#Ignore me as I squee

[mrsandypants]

[amtrak12]

[slytherinboysvip]

Revenge? | M.R

Plot: Your bf cheats on you, what happens next 🙀

(TW: NSFW) >New series for this! <

It was preposterous. Absolutely unbelievable. You stood there watching as your boyfriend- soon to be was ex making out with the girl he told you not to worry about, which of course you obviously should’ve.

Your blood boiled as you walked up to him, grabbing him by the collar and ripping him away as roughly as possible. You weren’t just mad, you were furious. How could he do this to you? “You fucking pussy. You quite literally could’ve just ended things with me you prick. I’m so done with you.” Not giving him any more chances or pity apologies you walked away, once out of the room you ran to your dorm.

Later that night

A much needed crying session later you heard a harsh knock on your door. Without getting up or knowing who it was you whispered a charm and unlocked your door, to your surprise it was Mattheo Riddle. “Y/n, you do know there’s a such thing as a silencing spell, don’t you” His eyes had a piercing gaze for a moment before he finished examining you, his face fell slightly yet he fixed his demeanor, slowly stepping inside and closing your door.

“Either you’re blasted, or you were crying, so which one is it.” He said blatantly sitting down on a chair near your bed. “Fuck off Mattheo, you don’t even talk to me” You flipped over in bed, annoyed at the unwanted intrusion of your privacy. “If you didn’t want me in here you wouldnt have opened the door” He sent a small smirk your way despite you not being able to see it. “In my defense I didn’t even know it was you”

You both sat there in silence before you reluctantly turned back over to face him, “Why haven’t you left yet” You sighed deeply rolling your eyes looking at him. “If you’re really just gonna be a bitch I can leave” He rolled his eyes in return, beginning to stand up. Without thinking you held your arm up grabbing his instinctively “Don’t go, I’m sorry.” You quietly apologized causing him to slowly sit back down.

You removed your hand from his and to break the awkward silence you spoke, “My boyfriend, well I guess now my ex boyfriend cheated on me. I literally caught him making out with her openly in public” I scoffed still dumbfounded as to how oblivious I was. “What an ass. I’ve seen him, you’re too hot for that anyway”. His words made your cheeks blush slightly so you attempted to hide it by stretching.

“I just can’t believe he played me like that” I looked back at him, “You know, we could get some revenge and have some fun” He winked at you and smirked. “And what exactly would this revenge entail?” I cocked my eyebrow at him curious yet intrigued. “Well we could act like we’ve been dating this entire time, pretend we’re finally ‘going public’, and by that I mean we full send it by making out in front of Parkinson and tell her skanky ass we’ve been together so she can spill it to the entirety of this school.”

To say I was shocked was an understatement. I mean the plan obviously needed some major readjustments and we’d need to come up with a story but it honestly could work. “Are you gonna say something or am I just gonna sit here and look like an idiot who came up with an awful plan” He shook my head in his hands catching my attention.

“Yes.” I looked him in the eyes. “We could make out tomorrow then, but you know, I could use a bit of practice” he said nonchalantly , you were still making eye contact so there was no way for you to ignore this, your face was getting hotter by the second, no telling how red you were visibly. “Come on sweetheart, I have a feeling you need the practice too, don’t you?” He smirked.

No thinking needed you just nodded your head yes, and just as thoughtless as it was for you to nod your head, he immediately launched towards you and connected your lips. A soft moan left your lips as soon as you felt his tongue enter your mouth, attempting to fight for dominance in the kiss and failing miserably. His hand came up and softly squeezed your throat causing another soft moan to escape, you covered your mouth instinctively but he ripped it away replacing it back with his lips.

Keeping a grip on your neck he parted your legs with his left arm and rested his knee between your thighs, purposefully rubbing against your heat. More small moans were coming out and you could feel him getting hard against your stomach. He leaned closer to your ear, kissing and nibbling a bit before whispering, “Be careful amor, if you keep moaning like that I might just have to fuck you already”

His knee never stopped rubbing against you, and you were more turned on in this moment than any time with your ex. You didn’t want this to end, even if he wouldn’t continue with your plan afterwards. “Then do it Matt, Fuck me.” You looked at him and gave the best fuck me eyes You could. With zero hesitation he yanked your pants down discarding them across the room followed by your underwear. You started quickly taking your shirt off as he himself got undressed.

All of this happened in what seemed like under a minute, before your lips were back attached to eachother and he was rubbing his tip up and down your soaking entrance. “Fucking hell Y/n, I knew you were hot but I didn’t think you’d have this pretty of a fucking pussy” He began to speak but it turned into more of a moan as he sunk himself deeper and deeper into your dripping cunt. “Fuck, and you’re dripping” He moaned once fully inside.

You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, needing to adjust to the big size. He looked so hot above you too, especially being able to see his abs from your angle “Oh my god! Please keep going” You looked at him, already needing and begging for more. “Shit you’re so perfect. I’m going to ruin this fucking pussy” He whispered the silencing spell quickly before he began to harshly pound into you. Louder moans than before began filling the room as his aching dick fucked in and out of you.

He pulled out and got off of the bed, yanking you to the edge and flipping you onto your stomach. “Put your ass up for me princess” He smacked your ass harshly making you moan, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at that. You were scared he might’ve wanted to do anal, yet you obliged nervously arching your back. Without warning he slammed into you, definitely hitting your cervix. A pain and pleasure induced moan left your lips and that only fueled his fire.

He kept going at a relentless speed, your eyes began rolling back and you couldn’t hold back any noises even if you tried. You felt yourself starting to unfold, your stomach tying in knots as your release inched closer. “I’m so fucking close Mattheo fuck fuck” You could barely get your words out, they were more like whimpers and screams. “Cum all over my dick, I’m not done with you yet” He slapped your ass which sent you over the edge.

You were seeing stars, your body was beginning to shake as he pounded into you, his arm reached under and began rubbing over your previously teased clit, it was already swollen and sensitive and you couldn’t control anything. Tears started to roll down your face as you came all over his dick, tightening around him making him moan more and more.

Your body collapsed down but he picked you up by your hips and kept going, his thrusts got slower but they were still deep and consistent. The overstimulation was driving you insane, it was something you didn’t know you needed. He pulled out and flipped you back onto your back. “If im going to cum, and if it’s going to be because of you, then I need to see your gorgeous face and these amazing fucking tits” He smirked at you and slowly thrusted back inside of you before grabbing your boobs and putting your left nipple in his mouth sucking and pinching the other.

Your walls clenched around his dick once again, and you felt another orgasm coming, this time it was more bearable yet you were still so overstimulated and turned on you were a moaning mess. He started speeding up and picked his head up to look at you, his hand stayed on your boobs massaging them and pinching your nipples but he was close. Even though it’s your first time together you could tell.

His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, he threw his head back moaning and throwing around curse words, with a few more hard thrusts you felt his thick cum coat your walls and as he pulled out slowly the warm substance dripped out slowly. “Fucking hell” You sighed completely laying back exhausted. “So, we still on for the plan?” He winked.

I rly hope this is good but tbh the more I read it the more I don’t like it 😭😭

Also! I feel like lowk this would be a good mini story/ series? Like the actual revenge and such, maybe them getting into a relationship… who knowssss. But it’s only a thought I’d need your feedback!!:)!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns. 

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Idk if you still write for Danganronpa, but i have a idea

What about Yandere remnants of despair with a darling that they thought that died, like after they got brainwashed darling went missing, but after some time they discover that they actually are alive and now works for the future foundation!

Bonus: They are now dating another member of the future foundation and darling is/acts like Tsumugi Shirogane(without the despair and mastermind thing, so darling is just a silly little person who cosplays and is the ultimate former cosplayer! You can ignore this part!)

Thanks for reading! Really, thank you so much! <333

Found Again | Yandere Danganronpa

Since your class had turned to the remnants of despair the best thing you could do was pretend. Playing the part of a fellow brain-washed remnant before you could slip away to instead aid the future foundation. Now move on with your life it’s a shame that you seemed to be a poignant point in their fall to despair and now that they know you’re alive things are going to change:

Sonia Nevermind

“What's this…how could you….how dare you take my sunshine?!”

Released from the brainwashing of the Ultimate Despair and returned to normal

During the rescue of those in future foundation finding you walking around and directing others

It’s horrifying because you are hers

So why do you have a ring on your finger

A small stupid ring that isn’t half the size of what she would have given you

She might take advantage of the chaos to convince you to come with her

Surely you wouldn’t mind helping her acclimate to a proper and hopeful life

Whoever gave you this useless ring shouldn’t need you

“Come on (Y/n)I Don’t you remember?! You are my sunshine! I need you to be good!”

Should she find out while still in the throes of despair, it’s a little bit of the same

“So my loyal subjects your king has been abducted and brainwashed by those unhopeful rats! Come my subjects! On my order burn down the future foundation and retrieve my King!”

“Yeah!!!”

As a princess turned Queen having the whole kingdom behind her in her rule of despair is incredibly helpful

Immediately informing the moles that lure you from your partner and subdue you

Bringing you to her kingdom in Novoselic

“There my King is in their rightful place….NOW~SHALL WE PRACTICE THE PUNISHMENT OF YOUR ABDUCTERS!?”

“What?!”

She’s still a remnant of despair 

Remnant of despair who delighted and yearned when she found evidence of your death

A remnant of despair who continues to swoon at the way your face morphs into fear

“There~ that is a face I will torture for to fill this Queen with despair.” 

Nagito Komaeda

“Ah~To think my one true hope would be alive!”

He’s so so so happy you are even alive

He remembers the despair he was thrilling himself with and your supposed death definitely added to that

So him being able to experience this blossom of hope when in the process of saying so

He’s ecstatic 

Actually he abandons helping the future foundation to devise a plan—based on his luck—to get you on the ship with the rest of his class

He knows with his luck he’ll be able to pull it off

Though he’s certain there will be a death somewhere

But as long as it's not you, he doesn’t care 

Your back~and you’ll be his again

As a remnant of despair through his eagerness to have you knows no bounds

He almost doesn’t believe it

He doesn’t believe it

“I’ll believe it when I feel the despair of finding their body.”

It’s too hard to fool him

Likely you never did 

Him being constantly on the hunt to see your despair as he breaks your legs and does whatever he can to keep you in the pits of despair

And right by his side

He so dearly made his dear Junko a part of him is it insane he’d want to do the same

“My Despair! I’ve found you!” 

Gundham Tanaka

“My Divas, please aid me in apprehending our fallen star!”

“Squee!”

It’s fate that he should find you again

That he should have you again+

It was devastating waking up to find after his execution that he wasn’t reunited with you

But now he has

“Will you please just help the founders? I’m not your ‘star’ anymore.”

“How could you not be? Now that I’ve seen you, you’re burning so beautifully!”

“I’ve…found someone else Gundham.”

“....I see.”

He’ll understand liar

He’ll get back on his ship and leave you behind an act

He’ll let you live out your life alongside someone new wrong

The minute you’re around any large wildlife or swarm it’s over

They’ll do their dear Ultimate Breeder a fan by bringing you to him 

Switching off with others when it comes to water or islands

Eventually plopping you on the beach where he happily welcomes you

Commending their loyalty, he claims they did this without his judgment

“Their loyalty betrays my Star’s wishes, I’m sorry.But please for our class’ safety, you’ll stay with me us.”

As for the Remnant of Despair, it’s a miracle you even made it out

The animals are so much more vigilant 

Prepared to cripple you and drag you back to his side the second you step away

He is very intense about including you in his reshaping of the world

After all who wouldn’t be eager to share in the ritualistic sacrificing of those for despair

“It is I Gundham Tanaka! And my Star and I will be the ones to usher in this glorious revelry that is disastrous despair!”

[lukolabrainrot]

Hi there. So I've been firm in my belief that Luke & Nicola are gonna announce their relationship by telling us that they are already MARRIED. I've been conversing with a friend on here and we both agree there's been clues/crumbs that just might support the theory. Some might think it's too soon, BUT I just think their relationship was never a normal dating/courtship. Them being TOGETHER is 4-5 years in the making. Anyway, sorry it's long, but here's our thoughts on possible clues that these two may have tied the knot:

Many of them come from secondary sources, but I found these nuggets too hard to ignore. So here it goes:

8/22 N shares Polin photo. My interpretation of this photo is that this is the pivotal scene where Colin reads her letters and starts to forgive her. Penelope professes her love for him later that day. I think this particular photo was to signal they had worked out their differences and were together. I most definitely could be wrong, but I took it as a positive sign.

(I think 8/22/since deleted) JVN shares TT song and dance to Oh Happy Day. Well that's suspicious...

8/28 N and JVN like Evan Ross Katz Insta post about Catherine O'Hara meeting her husband on set and being married for 32 years. Hmmm?

8/28 Bridgerton Netflix drops the cute Lukola-coded media video on Insta.

8/29-8/30 I saw maybe 3-4 random comments on a few Insta and TT posts mentioning Cabo. In fact, there was a comment on L's Spain post up until recently that said "do Cabo next." So weird and probably not true, but I couldn't stop thinking about Cabo.

8/30 JVN posts the song "They Went for the Gun" from the musical Chicago to TT. I kept thinking what an odd song choice when talking about your remote work team. If you're a musical fan, you know that this is the routine where Richard Gere performs the puppet dance number with Renee Zellweger. The song is about convincing the media to buy in to your narrative by turning them into your puppets. I thought this could be about the JD photo gate distraction or maybe L/N were getting married and they wanted us to think otherwise? Or, this could mean absolutely nothing, lol.

8/31 This is the morning we all saw the JD in the ocean/pool story. OMG everyone panic - he's in Malta with N! I wonder if JD was excited to be on vacation and accidentally posted the pic to Insta and that set off the whole day of possible distractions? Right after, JVN posts a we're home and here's a garden update story. (I almost always wonder if his garden updates are jokingly about L/N status.) Maybe it was previously recorded, and he used it to possibly provide cover for JD's slip-up?

I know my theory is off the rails, but I kind of like the possibility of it. Maybe L/N went to Cabo for a long weekend wedding around 8/30-9/1 with just a few close friends and family? You know JD and JVN would be there. I'm not one of those photo date, location and time truthers. It seems like that is never accurate. The previously mentioned JD photo looked like a pool to me, and it reminded me of this deep blue-colored one that is at the One & Only Palmilla in Cabo. This resort has been featured on many episodes of Real Housewives and N loves that show. I also thought the Insta story from N's work colleague in Malta would be really thoughtless and unprofessional if she was actually there at that exact time. I hope it was an intentional misdirect.

8-31 Days before Chupi has been teasing their new Future Awaits Diamond Arrow eternity band. They have posts pairing it with the Claddagh ring. They release it early on this date. It looks very similar to the one N is wearing in her Polin post from 6/11/21. Maybe it's her new wedding band and she's already married? Squee!

Anyway, this is crazy delusional but it was fun to think they might have been breadcrumbs. Maybe L/N got married quietly in Galway(because she'd definitely want her mother there and her Irish roots/traditons are important to her, and now L) Spain when no one was suspecting it. Regardless, I hope Netflix paid for the wedding if there was one. Thanks so much for letting me share. I hope we find out soon! The rings are still the biggest clues of all. 🥰💍👀

This is all speculation... but interesting theories...

I don't think they are already married, but what does everyone else think?

The rings definitely mean SOMETHING about L/N 👀

[olderthannetfic]

Nearly 75% of fic on AO3 has less than 5 reader comments. Can we please acknowledge that lack of engagement in a positive fashion is the norm in fandom and that writers are expected to work for nothing in return yet readers are allowed to be entitled?

The source of my number

https://www.tumblr.com/transholmes/738776926733336576/and-even-those-numbers-on-the-lower-end-are

--

Hahahahaha.

Oh, anon.

Okay, first of all, I just posted a bunch of graphs showing exactly this, so not only am I well aware of it, but you also clearly don't read my tumblr much and are just here because some friend of yours is upset that I responded negatively to them about their dumb bookmarking opinions.

Second and more importantly...

No, no one is expected to do anything.

That's crazypants influencer talk where you think your hobbies are jobs that you have no choice about doing.

I suppose I do expect fans to have something at least marginally worthwhile to say��or else I'll block them for being whiny little bitches who make my day dumber as well as less amusing.

But mostly, what I expect is that people will do hobbies because they are fun. If I ever decide that writing fic is too boring, I will stop.

I write because it's fun.

I write original work for money too, and if you want to read that, you're going to have to pay Amazon your cold, hard cash. But I still do it because I enjoy the actual act of writing... at least a lot of the time.

What I see in the bookmark boo-hooing is a bunch of people who haven't noticed the last eighty thousand rounds of this same dumb wank and who not only expect to get the last word but expect that somehow I'm going to signal boost it on my tumblr as that... a tumblr known for contentious debates and nobody ever getting the last word till everyone's exhausted and never wants to hear about paper plates or beans again.

I also see that some of the thinnest-skinned people have fic patreons.

Now, I chose not to bring this up before because it sounds a bit below the belt in that "And thus you're morally impure and thus I can ignore your argument" way... But it's a consistent pattern in these conversations over time, and I do think it's relevant. The biggest sensitive babies are always the ones most afraid of bad reviews but also low engagement, and I think it's because they're caught in some half-pro, half-not limbo where they want the best of both worlds but keep getting the worst of both.

If you behave like a professional who is owed compensation, you can expect a more professional style of response to your work.

And what does the pro world look like? Radio silence. The occasional harsh review. Nobody caring why you wanted to write X or why you couldn't finish Y on time.

If you're here to socialize, you should look for a beta or a couple of good friends who like your blorbos and your style of fic, and then you can squee together about what you've written. It may not come in the form of visible AO3 comments. It may be in private chat.

In some cases, it may just be friends you can talk to about your writing but who aren't actually going to read it. I have plenty of friends who read different things than what I write.

That's what socializing and hobbies look like, dude.

It's fine to point out that many writers do get discouraged by low comment counts and then stop, so if I, as a reader in a fandom, want more, it behooves me to befriend writers and make them feel good.

But at the same time, writers get discouraged or move on to the next fandom all the time for all kinds of reasons. If the critical mass and the zeitgeist aren't there, then they aren't.

Do your hobbies for reasons internal to you.

If the main point is external validation, get into BDSM and find someone excited to indulge your praise kink. It will work a lot better than chasing fame via art.

[familyvideostevie]

hit me with the sunshine!james and grumpy!reader fluff, loser :)

-cece

how delicious! so good i'll ignore the name calling <3 all for you, @theemporium :) i've never done this trope before so hopefully this works!!! | fluff, fem!reader, grumpy!reader x sunshine!james, 1k

"If you keep frowning like that your face is going to stick," James says lightly. He startles you a bit, but you don't let it show. He knows you well enough to tell, anyway. He slides his hand over your lower back as you continue to stare, arms crossed, at the book in your hand.

"Ha, ha," you say, toneless. "James, it's no use." Your lower lip has a small indent in it like you've been chewing on it. He wonders if you'll let him kiss you in the store.

"What's no use, darling? Catch me up, I'm slow." Sometimes, if you're in the mood, you'll bump your hip with his when he teases like that. But you don't move, don't even lean into the hand on your back.

"I think today is going to be a bust." It's shopping day -- different from errand day, you both wander around local shops and buy things you don't technically need. Birthday presents, new clothes, books. It tires you out immensely and James knows that tonight you'll fall asleep in his lap with a movie in the background.

"Why's that?" he asks. You won't ask him to go home early, even if you're not enjoying yourself, since you know he's got things to buy. You won't even sulk -- that's not your style. He'll just be able to feel it radiate off of you, and while he adores your slightly sour disposition, he never wants you to actually be upset. Dissatisfied with the state of the world? Sure, who isn't. Annoyed at slow walkers? Again, join the club. He loves you when you're frosty, he loves you when you're grumpy, he loves you when you're soft in his arms when you wake up every morning. It doesn't matter. He loves it all.

"I--," you start. You set the book back down on the table perhaps a bit too forcefully, as you wince at the noise it makes. "I'm just annoyed they don't have the edition I wanted. When I called last week they said they did." You take a deep breath. "And I'm frustrated that I've dragged you here when it's on the other side of town as the stationary shop we need to go to for Remus and all the other places we need to visit." You sigh again, frown deepening. Time for him to make his move.

He's mastered this by now. James knows that you'll let him underneath your exterior no matter what, half because he's so damn charming and half because you want him to see you, to make you smile. And, if he's honest, he's got no idea why you let him. But from the moment you met it was clear that he was the perfect companion to your mood.

"I'll buy you another book. Two other books. No, three!" You turn towards him and his hand slides to the flesh of your hip, squeeing once, gently. "Well, any more than three and you definetly have to carry some."

You aren't convinced. "James, that's not the point --"

"Well, who needs books, anyway?" He hooks two long fingers through your belt loop and tugs gently. You allow it, falling into his chest and catching the lapels of his jacket, frown still in place. But he can see he's getting there -- your eyebrows are quirked in interest and your shoulders are already looser. He taps the tip of your chin with a knuckle before cupping your cheek. "I could just ravish you in the stacks of this shop, instead. No purchase required."

"James," you scold. Your grip on his jacket tightens and he can tell you're fighting a smile. "I will not be kicked out for public indecency. Who even says ravish, anyway? Who are you, a historical romance hero?"

He nods very seriously. "That's my day job, obviously. How did you not know? You really should pay more attention to me." That earns him an eye roll and tug at the corner of your mouth .

"Poor you," you drone. "Most neglected boyfriend on the planet."

He drags his thumb across your skin, watching it pull. Your nostrils flare. "No," he says. "No, I don't think so. You couldn't neglect me if you tried." He moves his face closer, so close that your noses brush. Your eyelashes flutter and your eyes close.

"Only because you're so bloody loud," you say, softly. "It's very hard to ignore you." He scoffs.

"Careful," he says. "Or I might think you're flirting with me." He drags it out even more, brushing his lips over yours without properly kissing you.

"Now that would be a real blow to my reputa--" you say, but he ends his own game and presses his lips to yours. You gasp and he swallows it, right there in the fiction section of the bookshop. James doesn't let it go on too long, lest you actually get kicked out, which would be a shame since he knows you do like this place normally. So after a few mostly decent-for-public kisses, he pulls away. Your hands loosen their grip on his jacket and he releases your face.

"Shall we go, then?" he asks, finding his voice a little rough. He loves the effect you have on him. You nod, frustration seemingly gone for now.

"I hate when you do that," you grumble, linking your fingers together. He squeezes your hand. "Cheer me up so easily."

"No, you don't," he says, beaming at you. You reach up and flick a loose curl back into place.

"No, I don't," you say, suppressing a smile. "I still don't have my book, though." Well, at least you no longer look put out about it.

"Then we'll go to every shop in the city, silly girl," James says, tugging you toward the exit. "We've got all day."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[threewaywithdelusion]

I Forgot What I Called This on AO3 (Stranger Things Fanfiction)

Because AO3 is down and I'm posting my fanfic over here for people to read. If you search "Mia writes fanfic" on my page, you can see all the fic I've posted here

Steve had been getting things ready for the kids all week and they were arriving tomorrow morning and he definitely wasn’t losing his mind. Robin had called him a mother hen three times already and had taken to just smiling fondly and rolling her eyes as Steve moved the couch for the twelfth time, trying to make sure Max’s wheelchair would fit through the tight space. 

“It’ll be fine, Dingus,” she said for the millionth time. “The kids love you and they’re going to keep on loving you even if you don’t move our coffee table three inches to the left.”

Steve scowled. “You say that, but if Max hits the table Lucas is going to bite my head off. And Dustin will say something about how if I’d paid more attention in math or physics or wherever the hell you learn this stuff, I would have known to move the table three inches to the left. And then-“

“And then nothing!” Robin said. She set her glass of wine down on the floor — Steve winced, knowing she was going to trip over it later — and came over to take his hands. “They’ll still love you exactly the same. They’re your kids.”

“I haven’t seen them since Christmas!” Steve said. 

Robin gave him a fond look. “It’s been three months, Steve. They haven’t forgotten you in that time. Now sit down with me before you give yourself gray hairs and ruin that pretty head of yours.”

Steve took a deep breath and followed Robin to the newly-relocated sofa, picking up her glass of wine and handing it to her moments before she could kick it. 

Steve picked up his own glass of wine, which he’d barely touched. 

“To our last moments of peace and quiet,” Robin said. 

Steve knocked his glass against hers.

***

The kids looked so grown-up. 

Lucas was insanely tall and he looked like a proper, put-together adult, pushing Max’s wheelchair with one hand and carrying two duffel bags on his shoulder. He’d clearly been working out and his clothes were a little trendier than what he used to wear. He was the only one of the three to have already turned eighteen, and Steve couldn’t believe how quickly he was growing up. 

Max also looked completely different from the kid Steve had first met. There were the things strangers noticed about her first — the milky-white eyes she refused to hide behind sunglasses, even when the lights gave her headaches, and the wheelchair — but she’d also cut most off that long red hair off. She had a short cut which she’d spiked up with hair gel and Farrah Fawcett hairspray — Steve had taught her how to do it, over a year ago — and it made her look badass and alternative and like she was comfortable with herself. 

Dustin still wore his nerdy baseball cap, but his curls had grown out past his shoulders — an homage to Eddie — and still wore a nerdy shirt with a button up over it. Of all the kids, he looked the most the same, the most like the thirteen-year-old who had dragged Steve into his life with a hunt for a missing demodog. 

Steve loved them all so much. 

He ran towards them, ignoring Robin’s “they’re walking this way anyway!” and immediately pulled Dustin into a hug. Dustin dropped his suitcase to return it, holding Steve tightly and already chattering away. 

They rocked from side to side for a moment. 

“I thought California was supposed to make you tan, but you look the same,” Dustin said. 

Steve gave a watery laugh and pulled out of the hug. “I missed you too, you dick.”

“Is Steve crying?” Max asked. 

“No!” Steve protested. 

Max raised her eyebrows judgmentally. “Are you lying to the blind girl?”

Lucas grinned, leaning on the back of her wheelchair. “Not cool, Steve.”

Steve stepped around Dustin and Lucas came over to give Steve a hug. God he was so fucking tall. 

Behind him, Steve could hear Robin greeting Dustin. 

Steve bent down to give Max a hug too. She squeezed him, then traced over his head before letting him pull back. 

“Did you cut your hair?” she asked. 

“A bit,” Steve told her. “There’s a longer floppy bit in the front, but it’s shorter all around.”

Max tilted her head. “Does it look good?”

“Of course!” Steve scoffed, right as Lucas said “eh.”

Steve snapped his fingers at Lucas. “You’re dead to me, Sinclair.”

“So your hair got worse and you’re pasty, Steve?” Max teased. “What have you been doing out here?”

“I’ll have you know that I look amazing,” Steve told her. “Lucas and Dustin are just liars.”

“You are pasty!” Dustin protested. 

“It’s okay, I don’t have to see it,” Max said. She put a hand over her heart. “I’ll always remember you fondly, the way you looked on Lovers Lake.”

Steve grinned. He’d heard this story many times over the years and he always loved it, even though the details tended to change depending on whether Max, Lucas, or Dustin was telling it.

Lucas scowled. “Forget him! You should remember how hot I looked!”

Max reached behind her and Lucas put his hand where she could find it just so that she could pat it condescendingly. “I remember, baby. You looked great for fifteen.”

Lucas made a sound of indignation, but he was smiling fondly as he picked Max’s hand up and kissed it. 

Dustin groaned. “I’ve been third-wheeling them the whole way here. Please tell me I don’t have to share a room with them.”

“We’re not that bad,” Lucas protested.

At the same time, Max said, “You’re just jealous because you don’t see Suzie until Wednesday.”

“You don’t have to share a room,” Steve said. ���Robin and I are taking her room, Lucas and Max are taking my room, and Dustin, you get the couch.”

“Why do I get stuck with the couch?” Dustin asked. 

“Because you’re only here for four days,” Steve said. 

“Yeah, Steve’s jealous that you don’t like him as much as Suzie,” Robin teased. “You’re breaking his heart, Dusty-Bun.”

“That is not true!” Steve protested. 

“So does this mean you two are finally…” Dustin directed at Steve and Robin, eyebrows waggling. 

Steve groaned. “No, Dustin. Never going to happen. Come on, let’s get going.”

He grabbed both of the duffels Lucas had been carrying so Lucas could use both hands to push Max. 

“Why would we be paying rent for a two-bedroom in San Francisco if we were together,” Robin asked Dustin. “Have you seen rent prices around here? Cause I could probably sell a kidney for less than an apartment.”

Dustin got a thoughtful look on his face. Steve wasn’t optimistic that Dustin would give up if he hadn’t in the past four years, but he watched as Robin walked with him, trying (hopelessly) to talk him out of it. 

“What about Robin?” Max asked. 

Steve didn’t answer at first, assuming she was talking to Lucas, until she poked him in the thigh. 

“What?”

“Does Robin look hot?”

Steve groaned. “Not you too, Mayfield.”

“Come on, Steve, you have to tell me.”

“Her hair is a bit longer and the tips are blue,” Steve said. 

Max huffed. “Thank you for that being completely unhelpful. Do you even like girls? That was the lamest description I’ve ever heard.”

Steve sputtered. 

“Yeah, she looks hot,” Lucas said. 

Steve shot him a look, trying to warn him that when your girlfriend asked if another woman was hot, it was always a trick question. You should never, ever answer with a yes.

If Max and Lucas broke up again right before staying with him for a week, Steve was going to lose his mind. 

“Thank you, Lucas!” Max said, sounding triumphant. “That’s how it’s done.”

Steve blinked, first at Max, then at Lucas. 

He would never have gotten away with saying that to Nancy or Debbie or any of the girls he’d dated. Hell, the only woman he would say that to was Robin, and that was because she had equal interest in pretty women. 

Lucas gave Steve a little smile that Steve couldn’t interpret. 

Steve gave up. 

“Whatever is going on between you two, just know that I promised Mrs. Sinclair multiple times that you wouldn’t be in the same room. So if anyone asks, Dustin bunked with Lucas and Max stayed with Robin while I took the couch.”

“How noble of you,” Dustin shouted back, the little eavesdropper. “To take the uncomfortable couch instead of forcing it on your unsuspecting guests!”

Steve flipped him off. 

“We’re not stupid,” Max said. “We know how to lie our asses off.”

“And I don’t want to hear any noises!” Steve added. “I don’t care what you do in there, but for the love of god, don’t make me hear it!”

Lucas made a horrified face. “Man, please stop talking.”

Steve was also blushing, but he forged on. “Last thing, I promise. I’m hating this just as much as you are.”

“I doubt that,” Max muttered.

Steve’s face was burning. “There are condoms in the bedside table,” he told the floor. 

There was no response. Steve risked a peek at the kids and saw that they both looked vaguely traumatized and bright red. 

Robin and Dustin, who had stopped by the car, watched as the three of them approached. 

Robin took one look at Steve’s face and cackled. “Did he give you the safe sex talk?”

Dustin groaned. 

Robin looked gleeful. She patted Dustin’s arm as she leaned in, pretending to whisper while talking loud as fuck. “Don’t be jealous, Dusty-Bun,” she teased. “Steve also bought you condoms to take to Utah.”

She and Max burst out laughing while Dustin turned to Steve with a look of horrified betrayal. 

Steve pinched his nose. “Everybody get in the car or I’m leaving without you.”

***

Of course it didn’t matter how much Steve had fretted about preparing everything just right, because disaster struck just as they were getting ready to leave for their dinner reservations that night. 

Max accidentally hit the end table. Steve watched in what felt like slow-motion as Robin’s half-full wine glass from the night before teetered off the side and into his lap, soaking his jeans. 

He cursed at the huge red wine stain in his lap. 

“Whoops,” Max said. 

“Robin!” Steve hissed. 

“Sorry!” Robin said. “I forgot I left the wine glass there. But like, in my defense, if the end table had been in its usual place or the couch had been in its usual place or you hadn’t rearranged literally all of our furniture, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“So it’s my fault?” Steve asked, pouting at her. 

She was unmoved by his puppy-dog eyes. “Go change, Dingus. I’ll clean the couch.”

Steve stood, ignoring the wine running down his legs, and went to Robin’s room. It was a disaster because Robin emptied half her closet onto the floor every time she tried to decide what to wear. Two years of living with her had been enough for Steve to unlearn two decades of keeping his parents’ house neat and clean, and when he’d grabbed clothes from his room to give it to Lucas and Max, he’d ended up dumping most of it in a pile on the floor. 

Steve toed off the dirty jeans and looked through the pile as best as he could. He’d grabbed way too many shirts and it looked like the only pair of jeans he’d taken were his going out jeans. They were tighter than his usual pair and made his ass look amazing. 

He yanked them on quickly and met the others in the living room in time for them to head out for the reservation. They made it to the restaurant with just enough time to spare, Steve dropping them all at the door to claim the table and then driving a few more minutes to find parking. 

When he finally entered the restaurant, the kids enthusiastically waved him down and he couldn’t help his smile as he slid into the booth beside Robin.

It was great to catch up with the kids in person instead of over the phone or Dustin’s Cerebro. Like this, Steve could watch Dustin’s eyes get all fond when he talked about going to school with Suzie in the fall if they both got accepted into MIT. He could hear Max’s laugh without static interrupting it. He could watch Lucas act out the plays in his most recent basketball game and see the way he still looked to Steve throughout the story, wanting approval. 

Steve was so fucking proud of all of them. 

Robin squeezed his hand under the table. “You look happy,” she whispered. 

Steve squeezed back. 

After Steve paid the bill — something that was much harder these days, but which he wasn’t going to tell the kids — they all meandered back to the car. Lucas and Max went ahead, murmuring quietly to each other. It was a nice night, clear and relatively warm for March.

“If you think so, then I’m stealing your coat,” Robin told Steve when he said that aloud. She didn’t wait for him to hand it over, but started stripping it off him. “I’m freezing.”

She wrapped his coat around herself and he laughed and put an arm around her, pulling her into his side and rubbing up and down her arm. 

“Better?”

She hummed. “Toasty.”

There was no comment from Dustin, which was suspicious enough to make Steve check he was still there. 

He was, walking on Steve’s left, but his attention was focused on Steve’s ass. 

Steve frowned. “Dustin?”

Dustin looked up at him. “I don’t get it. Is there some fashion trend that Eddie was years ahead of? Or are you doing it to remember him? Neither of you were even super close with him!”

Steve took a minute to try to understand that, but it made no sense. He glanced at Robin, wondering if she was being slow, but she looked just as confused. 

“What?”

“Your handkerchief,” Dustin said. “Are you wearing it for Eddie?”

Steve’s stomach flipped as he understood what was going on. He’d grabbed his going-out jeans in a hurry and he’d forgotten to take the handkerchief out of the back pocket from the last time he’d gone to a club. 

Steve glanced over his shoulder to check what color he was wearing. It was dark blue, tucked into his right pocket. 

Steve bit back a series of curses. He glanced at Robin again, who was watching him with wide eyes. 

“Um,” Steve said. “I’m wearing it… like Eddie? In the same way, I think.”

“So to honor him?” Dustin asked. He traced his long curls. “Maybe I should do that.”

“No!” Steve said hurriedly. “Absolutely not!”

Dustin looked hurt. “I was way closer to him than you were, Steve. And I was the one there when-“

He cut off, glancing away. 

Steve felt awful. 

He and Dustin had had a bit of a rough time after Eddie’s death. Dustin had blamed both himself and Steve for letting Eddie die, and he’d felt guilty being friends with Steve when they’d lost Eddie. Like he was replacing one friend with another. 

He knew how sensitive Dustin was about Eddie.

Steve was so open in San Francisco. He had followed Robin here because she wanted to be able to live without the same fear she’d had in Hawkins. He would have followed her anywhere. If she’d chosen the most homophobic town in the country he would have gone, despite the fact that traveling Europe with her after defeating Vecna had led Steve to realize he was interested in men. He was here because of her, not because of him.

But he loved living in a place where he could openly be himself. Where he could pass other men flagging on the streets and not just in discreet bars, hidden in the back corner of alleys. He loved when he and Robin went out and both brought people home, some girl coming out of Robin’s room in the morning to find Steve and his one-night-stand already making breakfast in the kitchen. 

Being bisexual was a bigger part of him than he ever could have imagined back when he lived in Hawkins. 

But he’d never been brave enough to tell the kids. They lived so far away and he saw them so infrequently and he hadn’t wanted to risk a negative reaction. If it went badly, they didn’t live in the same town. He couldn’t keep running into them, forcing them to slowly accept what he was. If the kids took it badly, they could just decide to never come back. 

Steve couldn’t bear it if the kids walked away from him. 

Robin nudged Steve gently, knocking him out of his thoughts.

Dustin looked really confused and upset. Fuck. 

Steve would get hurt a thousand times before he ever hurt one of his kids.

“I’ll explain when we get home, okay?” Steve asked. 

Dustin made a face. “Why not now?”

“It’s not something I want to just explain on the street,” Steve said. You never knew who might be listening, even in San Francisco. Besides, Dustin was guaranteed to ask a million questions even if he took it well, and Steve did not want to have that conversation on a random sidewalk. 

“Fine,” Dustin huffed. He sped up a little to walk with Max and Lucas. 

“You okay?” Robin asked. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, his voice tight with fear. 

“Dustin will be fine,” Robin said. “He loves you. He loved Eddie. I’ve never heard the kid say a single homophobic thing in his life.”

“Yeah,” Steve repeated. 

“Steve,” Robin said seriously. She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. You can still make something up.”

“No,” Steve said finally. “I can’t. You’re right, I don’t think he’ll take this badly. Which means the only reason not to tell him is because I’m scared. I’m being stupid.”

“You don’t owe it to him,” Robin said. 

Steve smiled tightly. “I’ve faced Demogorgons. Coming out has to be easier than that, right?”

Robin shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong lesbian, Steve. I’ve only ever come out to other gay people. I mean, even when I thought I was telling Steve “the Hair” Harrington — which was already easier, cause I was like, high on Russian truth serum — and that he was all popular and straight and definitely not gonna take it well, I didn’t know that I was secretly coming out to a bisexual guy who was going to become my platonic soulmate. So. No words of wisdom from me.”

Weirdly, Steve felt better after hearing that. 

“Thanks, Robin,” he said. 

“I love you,” she said seriously. “I’m here.”

“I love you too,” he said. 

***

When they got back to the apartment, Dustin stomped over to the couch and took a seat, arms crossed. 

Lucas looked at Steve warily. “You also did the bandana thing?”

Also? Was Lucas also still thinking about Eddie?

Steve sighed. “Okay, sit down. I’ll explain.”

Lucas took a seat beside Dustin and Max rolled her wheelchair so she was vaguely next to the couch, bumping the table again. 

Steve moved to stand in front of the couch, wringing his hands together. Robin leaned against the wall behind him, silently offering support. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I’m, um,”

Bisexual. 

The word wouldn’t come. 

“Flagging,” he said instead. “That’s what it’s called when a guy wears a handkerchief in his back pocket.”

Lucas frowned. “Is that a fashion thing?”

“Not exactly,” Steve said. “It’s, um, a code? To let people know what you’re looking for.”

He was met with three blank stares. 

“In the bedroom,” he croaked out. 

Dustin’s face twisted. “It’s a sex thing?”

“Dude!” Lucas said. 

“Why were you wearing it to dinner with us?” Dustin demanded. 

“I forgot it was there!”

“I guess the new hair and the pastiness are working for you, if you’re getting enough girls that you’re forgetting your freaky sex flag is in your jeans” Max said. She looked the least affected of the three, but she was also blushing a little. 

Yeah, Steve didn’t want to be talking about his sex life either.

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” Dustin said. “It can’t be a new thing because Eddie was wearing one three years ago. And it can’t be a big city thing, because Eddie and Will were wearing them around Hawkins. So who wears it?”

Steve choked on his spit. “Will?”

“Yeah?” Dustin said. “I told you. I said neither of you were close with Eddie, so it didn’t make sense that you were wearing a hanky like he did.”

Steve gaped at Dustin. He didn’t know what to say. Dustin had just outed Will to Steve and he had no idea he’d done it. And now if Steve told Dustin who used hanky code, he would be outing Will to right back to Dustin. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

“Does it mean something bad?” Lucas asked anxiously. 

“No!” Steve blurted. “No!”

“So what does it mean?” Dustin asked. 

Steve hesitated. 

“Come on, Steve!” Dustin whined. 

“Okay,” Steve said. “Look, I don’t know about Will, okay? Maybe he’s doing something else. Maybe it really is for fashion or something to him. I’m just talking about me.”

Max’s mouth dropped open a little and a look of comprehension crossed her face. 

Steve didn’t stop to wonder what she’d put together. If he didn’t keep going, he would lose his nerve. 

“It’s a gay code,” Steve said, voice shaking a little. “To let men know what I’m looking for.”

Absolute silence. 

Dustin was frozen, mouth open and eyebrows up. He was staring at Steve is complete disbelief. 

Lucas’s eyes were wide, and darting between Steve and Max. 

Max’s face was frozen, the way it usually was when she needed to figure out what expression she wanted to show. She was cagey, only showing what she wanted and rarely what she was actually feeling. 

Steve hoped she wasn’t hiding a negative reaction.

“YOU’RE GAY?” Dustin screamed. 

Steve winced and shushed him. He wasn’t sure what the neighbors knew and did not want to find out. 

“Bisexual,” he said. He felt Robin come up beside him to slide a hand into his and he dropped a little of his weight against her. “It means I like both. Men and women.”

Dustin looked like he was processing a new scientific discovery. “That’s a thing?”

Steve nodded. 

“How did you know you were bisexual?” Dustin fired right away, brain clearly whirring with questions. 

“I slept with a guy and liked it. So I slept with a couple more and liked that too, and then I got confused because I didn’t know you could like both and I was really sure I liked women. So I talked to a friend and they explained to me what bisexuality was.”

“Huh,” Dustin said. 

Steve couldn’t take the suspense. Dustin had skipped straight to the interrogation and entirely blown past any kind of reaction, and the other two kids were just watching them go back and forth like it was a tennis match. 

“Is that… okay? With everyone?” Steve asked. He heard Robin’s shoes scuff the ground behind him, like she was also anxiously waiting for an answer. 

“Of course it’s fine, man,” Lucas said. He still looked a little surprised, but definitely not confused or revolted. He was actually taking this suspiciously well. 

Over the years, Steve had given a lot of thought to how each of the kids would react. He’d figured Dustin would be nosy but accepting, Max would try to act cool even if she was a little freaked out, and Erica would say something insulting but would defend him harder than anyone. Mike would almost inevitably be a little asshole about it — Steve had eaten dinner at the Wheelers’ a lot when he’d been dating Nancy and he knew what sort of ideas Mike had been raised on. He’d been preparing for years to not take it personally when Mike reacted badly. Will was a bit of a wild card — Steve figured he was probably gay, but that his reaction would depend on where he was on his own journey of self-acceptance and whether he would be happy to have a gay friend or if he would lash out in an attempt to seem straight. 

Lucas, though? Steve had never gotten a good reading one way or the other. He’d never heard Lucas say anything about gay people, positive or negative. And Lucas knew what it was like to be hated on by bigots like Billy because of the color of his skin, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was okay with gay people. In retrospect, Steve was pretty sure Billy had been some type of queer (he’d spent a lot of time harassing Steve while they were either sweating on a court or naked in the showers) and that certainly hadn’t stopped him from being racist, so it could definitely go the other way. 

But Lucas was acting as if Steve had announced something unexpected but vaguely boring. Like he’d said he’d started rooting for the Golden State Warriors or traded in his car for a new one, instead of announcing he was sexually and romantically interested in men. 

Dustin, on the other hand, looked insulted. “You think I care if you’re gay? I’m a little mad you didn’t tell me, but I don’t care who you date.”

“Yes, you do,” Steve said. “You try to set me up on dates all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just cause you’re always single and you can never get dates on your own. It’s kind of sad. I care about you not being lonely, not if you like dicks or not.”

Steve frowned. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”

Dustin scoffed. “You’re an idiot. But I, uh, love you and stuff. Even if you didn’t tell me you were gay for literal years.”

Steve felt a little warm inside and he couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, buddy.”

He looked at Max for a reaction, but she looked deep in thought. Okay. Maybe she needed time to process. He’d circle back to her. 

“Was Eddie gay?” Dustin asked. 

“Um, I mean, I can’t know for sure. He didn’t come out to me or anything. But he was definitely flagging and I’m pretty sure he was flirting with me when we were in the Upside Down.”

Dustin squinted at Steve. “So you and Eddie…?”

“No,” Steve said. “I only realized I liked guys after… everything.”

Dustin nodded like that made sense. “Is that why you moved to San Francisco?”

Steve debated how to answer that. 

“No,” Robin said. “Steve moved here because of me. I moved here because it’s easier to be gay in San Francisco.”

Steve turned to gape at her. Robin was shaking slightly and cutting off the circulation in Steve’s hand, but her chin was tilted up proudly and her eyes were boring into Dustin. 

Dustin was gaping. Max’s face was turning red. 

“Sorry to steal your thunder,” Robin whispered. 

Steve squeeze her hand. “I’m proud of you.”

She beamed. “You too, Dingus.”

“Oh my God,” Dustin said slowly. “Is this why you two won’t date?”

Robin laughed. “Yeah. I’m way too much of a lesbian to date Steve.”

Steve scrunched up his nose. “Like I’d date you, Buckley.”

“You asked me out,” Robin sing-songed. “You would totally date me.”

“You asked her out?” Dustin demanded. 

“Ugh, yeah. Back when we still worked at Scoops Ahoy. She told me I would have a better shot if I was Tammy Thompson.”

“I knew Robin was your type!” Dustin was bouncing on the couch in excitement. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said. “You also didn’t notice that Robin was a lesbian for four years, so don’t be too proud of yourself.”

“Oh come on, Steve, how was I supposed to guess that everyone I know is gay?”

“Everyone?” Steve asked. 

Dustin listed them off on his fingers. “You, Robin, Will.”

“You can’t be sure about Will,” Steve said halfheartedly. 

Dustin gave him a look. “I assumed he was gay when we were like ten, Steve.”

Yeah. That made sense. Steve barely knew Will Byers before all the Upside Down shit had happened, but even he’d heard rumors in the days following Will’s disappearing about Will being gay. It made sense that Will’s oldest friends would have heard those rumors — and probably more — and that they would wonder if some of them were true. 

“One out of three isn’t terrible gaydar,” Robin said. 

“One out of four,” Max said. 

They all turned to look at her. She was staring vaguely in the direction of Steve and Robin, holding Lucas’s hand in a death-grip. 

“What?” Robin breathed, sounding excited. 

“I like girls too,” Max said. “And Lucas.”

God, she was so fucking brave. Max had no choice but to stand out. Everywhere she went, people stared at the blind girl in the wheelchair. They pitied her. They pitied Max, which was insane. Max was smart and brave and stubborn and sarcastic as hell. She wasn’t someone to be pitied, she was someone to be admired. 

Case in point: she didn’t have to paint another target on her back. She could have kept quiet and kept dating Lucas, who she was probably going to marry, and no one would ever assume she was anything other than straight. 

Steve was twenty-two and had known he was bisexual for two years and had only said something because he hadn’t seen another way to keep from hurting Dustin. 

Max was seventeen and already braver than Steve would ever be, holding Lucas’s hand defiantly and volunteering the information that she liked girls. 

“See!” Dustin said, gesturing at Max. “Everyone I know is gay!”

That was a very Dustin reaction, even if it wasn’t necessarily the right one. 

“Thanks for telling us, Max,” Steve said. 

“If you ever wanna talk about girls, you can call me,” Robin said. “I talk to Steve sometimes, but he has terrible taste and he has the audacity to say that I have terrible taste and I would love to talk to another girl about this.”

Max grinned. “I get to talk to Lucas. And I know he has perfect taste because he chose me.”

Dustin made a gagging sound. 

Lucas pressed a kiss to Max’s shoulder, looking embarrassed but pleased. 

Steve was so proud of him. Max had clearly told him before tonight, and he was still here holding her hand, so he must have done everything right. He obviously hadn’t acted offended or taken it as a challenge to his masculinity that his girlfriend liked girls. 

Steve thought of their little exchange in the airport and the way Max had asked if Robin looked hot. 

His heart warmed, watching them. 

He never would have believed that a relationship between two thirteen year olds would last this long. He was going to walk Max down the aisle someday, and he was willing to bet his measly life savings that Lucas would be the one waiting for her at the end. 

“Am I gay?” Dustin wondered out loud. 

Steve laughed. “Dude! I think you would know if you were gay.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Robin said. “But sometimes your twenty-year-old best friend tells you he thought everyone thought about pretty boys and you realize that some people are too much of a dingus to realize they’re gay.”

The kids all laughed. 

“So what does your bandana mean?” Max asked, waggling her eyebrows. 

Dustin made a face. “I don’t wanna know what Steve does in bed!”

Max shrugged. “I do.”

“Okay, someone’s a little too interested, Mayfield,” Steve said. 

“I’m bisexual too!” Max protested. “I need to know this stuff.”

“You’re blind,” Dustin muttered. “You can’t even see the bandana.”

Max hit him threw a pillow at his head with unnerving accuracy. 

“Girls don’t really use the same code,” Robin said. “You have to actually have the guts to go up to a girl and talk to her instead of knowing what she’s into based on what she’s wearing.”

“But how does it work?” Lucas asked. “Are you just saying you’re looking for a hookup?”

Steve blushed. 

“Educate the queer youth, Steve!” Robin said, the traitor. 

“Only one of them is even gay!” 

“You can’t tell Max and not me!” Dustin immediately protested. 

“And Max tells me everything, so I might as well hear it too.”

Steve groaned. He kind of wished a gate to the Upside Down would open under his feet so he could get out of having this conversation. 

“Okay. The colors mean you’re looking for different things. And it also matters if the bandana is in the right or left pocket, because that tells people if you wanna do the thing or have the thing done to you.”

There. That was a kid-friendly description, right?

“So if Eddie’s bandana was black, what does that mean?” Dustin asked. 

Steve gulped. Robin cackled. 

“Um, black is sadomasochism,” Steve said. He had to force every word out of his mouth. “So he liked, um, rough sex.”

He cringed as the kids all turned bright red. 

It wasn’t a new feeling, wishing Eddie hadn’t died. But this was the first time Steve wished he was alive specifically so Eddie could be having this conversation instead of Steve. Eddie would have been shameless, loudly proclaiming his preferences to everyone around, and then the kids would learn to stop asking invasive questions when they learned much more than they wanted to. 

“What’s yours?” Dustin asked. 

“None of your business,” Steve said quickly. 

“Come on, Steve,” Dustin said. “Now that I know you can’t date Robin, I need to find someone else to set you up with. And how am I supposed to know you’re compatible if I don’t know what your bandana means?”

Robin was shaking against Steve. He looked at her briefly in concern, only to see that she was losing the battle against a fit of giggles. 

“Save me,” he hissed to her. 

“Steve, this is the best entertainment I’ve had all year. I’ve never you seen you this red, even that time in Scoops-“

“It’s dark blue,” Steve said, to keep Robin from telling that particular story. “So just regular sex.”

Dustin frowned. “You’re wearing a bandana that literally just says you’re looking for sex?”

“What’s regular sex between two dudes?” Lucas asked, frowning. 

Steve groaned. “Did your parents never give you the sex talk?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t cover that.”

Steve scrubbed his hands down his face. He remembered when he’d first started sleeping with men, how much information he hadn’t known. He’d been traveling through Europe with Robin, hitting different gay clubs in each city, and he’d initially picked up a guy because he was bored and thought he might as well try it. (In retrospect, the man had been really pretty and Steve had been curious for a while, but boredom had been the excuse he had given himself to go through with it). 

He hadn’t known what two men could do with each other. He hadn’t known how to be safe. He was really goddamn lucky that he hadn’t taken home the wrong guy, or gotten an STD, or gotten AIDS. 

No one had ever given Steve the gay sex talk either, and if they’d offered it to him back when they’d given him the straight sex talk, Steve wouldn’t have wanted to listen. 

And here his kids were, asking him to explain. Sure, Dustin and Lucas were probably straight, but everyone had thought the same thing about Steve. 

It couldn’t hurt for them to have more information than they needed, but it could definitely hurt for them to have less. 

“Fuck it,” Steve said, “Fine. Always the goddamn babysitter.”

Robin made a squeaking sound. “Are you seriously giving them the sex talk?”

Steve nodded wearily. 

“I’ll go be other there,” Robin said, gesturing at her room. 

Steve caught her hand to keep her from leaving. “Absolutely not. You’re here to provide a girl’s perspective.”

“Steve, I did not sign up for this and I’m in no way qualified to give this talk.”

Steve stared at her. “And you think I am?”

“Goddamnit,” Robin huffed, conceding the point. “Fine, okay, sex talk, yay! This isn’t awkward at all.”

What followed was the most embarrassing hour of Steve’s life. He tried to start with the basics (consent, condoms) and only give the kids the absolutely essential facts, but they all asked really pointed and specific questions. Even Lucas, who Steve couldn’t imagine asking these questions in a group setting, was emboldened by Dustin and Max’s shameless questions to ask about a horrifically detailed “hypothetical” that had Max blushing and burying her face in her hands. 

Dustin made Steve explain the entirety of the hanky code (“Wait, why would you wanna be the one getting fucked? How does that feel good?”), asked a million questions about Steve’s type (“Hot brunettes isn’t a type, Steve!”), and then asked for advice about how to make sure a girl was actually ready to have sex and wasn’t just doing it to rebel against her super-religious family (… uh, Robin? Any thoughts?”). 

At the end of the night Steve was pretty sure that he was going to have a bright red face forever and that his hair was in disarray from how many times he’d run his hands through it, but he also felt like his kids were thoroughly prepared for any situation they might encounter. 

He sent the kids use the bathroom first and started laying sheets on the couch for Dustin. He layered a few blankets on because San Francisco could get cold at night, then was handed a pillow. 

“Thanks,” he said, looking up to see it was Dustin helping out. 

Dustin barreled into his chest, throwing his arms around Steve in a tight hug. 

Steve dropped the pillow and hugged him back. 

“I miss you,” Dustin said.

“I miss you too.”

“Will you still come visit me when I’m at MIT? Even though it’s farther than Hawkins and the rest of the Party won’t be there?”

“Dustin, you haven’t even gotten in yet.”

“But will you?” Dustin asked, planting his chin on Steve’s chest to look up into Steve’s eyes. And even though Steve knew he was 17, almost a full adult, he looked just like the kid Steve had first met, wide-eyed and looking to Steve for reassurance. 

“Of course,” Steve said. “I’ll be over there so much you’ll get sick of me.”

“Even though you have a job and Robin and you don’t have to drive us around everywhere anymore?”

Steve huffed. “Dude, I haven’t driven you all everywhere in years. And Robin can survive without me for a few days. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Steve said. 

Dustin pulled out of the hug, giving Steve a toothy smile. Then he scowled and punched Steve’s arm. “Next time, don’t wait years to tell me something important, asshole!”

Steve grinned. 

Dustin didn’t care. He wasn’t pushing Steve away for being queer. He was actually trying to make sure that Steve would stay in his life, that growing up didn’t mean Steve would leave. 

Steve pulled the brim of Dustin’s cap down, earning him a disgruntled yelp. 

“Alright,” Steve promised. “The next time I have a life-changing realization, you’ll be the first to know.”

Dustin smiled evilly. “Even before Robin?”

Steve froze. “I’m not picking favorites Henderson, so don’t even try it.”

Max and Lucas emerged from the bathroom and Steve gently pushed Dustin towards it, finally joining Robin in her room. 

Robin was lying on the bed in her pjs, still faintly blushing from the sex talk. “I am never having kids. That was the worst, oh my god. I suddenly understand why my parents just threw a bunch of books at me and told me to figure it out.”

“I got the sex talk from health class,” Steve admitted, digging through the pile on the floor for pjs. “It was not helpful at all.”

Robin snorted. “I’m sure you learned from hands-on experience, Romeo.”

“No, but that’s my point,” Steve said. “I slept with all these girls and all of them only said nice things. I was so sure I was doing a good job, and then I date Nancy for longer than a few weeks and she’s Nancy, so she does research.”

He hissed the word and Robin sniggered. “Oh, she would.”

“She did! And then she gave me notes. Literal, physical notes, on how to do better!”

Robin laughed so hard she went quiet, rolling from side to side on the bed and clutching at her ribs. 

“Robin, Robin, don’t laugh at me,” Steve pouted. “It was humiliating.”

Robin could not stop laughing. “Were the notes on flashcards?”

Steve aggressively yanked pajamas from the pile and refused to answer. The notes had been on flashcards. And they’d been color-coded into general tips and things Nancy specifically wanted to try. 

Steve changed into pajamas as Robin gradually got her giggles under control. 

“Hey, babe,” Robin said. 

Steve looked up. “Yeah?”

She looked serious, sitting up and meeting Steve’s gaze. “I’m proud of you. You were really brave tonight. And you gave me the courage to be brave too, and I never could have imagined a few years ago that I’d be living in San Francisco with my queer best friend and platonic soulmate having an extremely embarrassing sex talk with a bunch of teenagers, but it’s kind of perfect. I kind of love it.”

Steve smiled. He never would have imagined himself here either, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. His friendship with Robin was the most important thing in his life. And his kids, his wonderful, amazing, brilliant kids, who accepted him and admired him and needed him and loved him — they were here. They’d traveled 2,000 miles just to see him. 

“I kind of love it too,” Steve said. 

Robin beamed. “Definitely worth a little Russian torture.”

What a weird, fucked-up metric. And Robin was still absolutely right. 

[mrsandypants]

The urge to reblog everything all at once....

.... But also not wanting to flood the timeline.

[frikatilhi]

I think I have a problem and it's that Bojere has fucked up my brain so much, that it's hard for me to ship other things with the same intensity. I mean, normally I didn't give value to things and I could even get into the multiship, but with them it's almost impossible.

Don't get me wrong, I love to see people ship anything, but I feel like I can't be the same and it's very frustrating.

One of the reason it's because this fucking thing of soulmates or whatever and the comfort that they generate me by being together. Idk, but everytime they meet is like the universe were fine again. Wtf

I also feel that I must be thankful that they aren't together so long because I couldn't function normally if I had excessive content every day of them. It's good that they meet a couple of times a year, it's like watching your favorite series releasing a new season.

Don't worry, anon. Everything about this is okay. It's okay to ship only one thing; it's okay to hyperfocus on those two idiot soulmates, it's okay if they make you happy and you find comfort in them, it's okay to feel like things are okay when they are together.

Fandom is supposed to be fun, and everyone does it in their own way. For some, it's shipping Jere with everyone that comes in his approximate vicinity; for some, it's daydreaming about Bojere's eternal, unique connection that no one can come close to.

You can just ignore the stuff you don't personally enjoy and squee with the people who squee about the same stuff you do.

In this shitfest of a world it's the least we can do.

[messinwitheddie]

Tak's Ship "Incoming call"

Dib "Ignore."

Tak's Ship "Parental Control override."

Dib "Oh come on!"

Tak's Ship "HA HA!"

Dib "Eben?"

Eben "Greetings! Salutations! Good Wishes and all similar such shit on behalf of the Pines family and myself, young Dilbert."

Dib "Did Todd give you the code to the parental control override? Dad gave TODD the code to the parental controls?!"

Eben "I will neither confirm nor deny this."

Dib "FUCK YOU, TODD, YOU SKINNY NARC KISS ASS PRICK!"

Pepito " You're going to be a good dad one day."

Squee "(To Pepito) Shut the fuck up... (to Dib) If it makes you feel better, dad changes the code every 10 days."

Dib "IT DOESN'T! STILL FUCK YOU, TODD!"

Eben "That's enough out of you."

Dib "With all due respect, I'm not in the mood to talk. Please hang up."

Eben "With all due respect, I don't give a fraction of a FUCK what you want. I want a drama free environment when I come home from work, but I'm a father of two and a husband trying to hold down a marriage kept together by a thread, so kindly tell me what's eatin' ya?"

[Continuation of this

Cringe fan interpretation is cringe. Apparently the relationship I pictured Dipper and Mabel's parents have was NOT canon accurate at all. I'm dedicated to my ocs now though, so this side plot will continue and there is a point to it.

I apologize for my cringe, but I don't. I do genuinely apologize for how quick and sloppy my drawings are though. Not in a good place right now.

[sotwk]

I know you’ve said that you’ve got a backlog of these kinds of things and I don’t want to add to your workload, so feel free to ignore this one if you want, but…

In revisiting one of your Thranduilion works on AO3, I somehow just noticed for the first time in an end note that Arvellas has facial hair — a mustache or beard depending on the time. 🤯 And of course I find that fascinating, given the otherwise pretty consistent theme of beardless elves in Tolkien (except for Círdan), so I was wondering if there is more you’ve said somewhere about how that came to be for Arvellas and what it says about him that he’s so distinct this way? (If I’ve missed the explanation for this elsewhere, please know that I’m sorry and my brain is a sieve so I often need people to tell me things more than once for them to sink in 😂)

*SQUEE* I LOVE getting questions like this! Thank you @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras for taking the time to ask about that detail you noticed! I do know of your fondness for Círdan, so I should have guessed you'd pick up on that. :)

There's quite a simple answer to your question, really.

The Thranduilion Princes descend from both Círdan and Mahtan through their mother's side. Both these Elves famously had beards, with Mahtan growing his beard during his Second Cycle of life.

Here's a quick genealogy rundown for Elvenqueen Maereth, wife of Elvenking Thranduil and mother of his five sons:

Maereth's father is Eärondir (oc), the only child of Círdan and his wife, Eäriel (oc), a granddaughter of Olwe.

Maereth's mother is Laurinwen (oc), the daughter of Maglor and his wife, Velcálë (oc). Through his mother Nerdanel, Maglor is the grandson of Mahtan the Aulendur.

Therefore, the sons of Thranduil and Maereth are both the great-grandsons of Círdan and the great-great-great-grandsons of Mahtan.

I have a thousand headcanons about these ancestors, their stories, and the implications of such a bloodline on the characteristics and skills of the Thranduilions! My personal favorite is, how did Legolas know how to build a ship fit for sailing to the Blessed Realm? It's in his blood!

But let's focus on your question about facial hair!

SotWK Fancast: Rupert Friend as Prince Arvellas Thranduilion

Arvellas is the only one among the five Thrandullions with the ability to grow facial hair. He never grows a full, luxurious beard, though. It's mostly mustache and actually looks very baby compared to Círdan's (lol).

Arvellas grows his beard very early on in his life, which may imply he gets it more from Mahtan's genes.

While my headcanon would imply a rare genetic component in an Elf's ability to grow beards, I also subscribe to the fanon theory that beards are achieved by Elves in possession of exceptional skill and wisdom.

Arvellas, more than any of his brothers, indeed did inherit both the creative genius of Fëanor and the deep wisdom of Cirdan, and these qualities awakened the "beard of wisdom" gene in him.

Want to learn more about Arvellas? Arvellas Headcanon Masterlist

Bonus related headcanon and OC that you didn't ask for because I can't help myself:

Olondir, the Thranduilions' cousin and Master Craftsman of Eryn Galen. The son of Maereth's late brother, Calinondo, Olondir is the last heir of the craft of Celebrimbor (remember that Maereth's family is related to Celebrimbor as well). Olondir lives quietly in Eryn Galen and is responsible for the upgrades in the Woodland Realm's armour and defenses after the War of the Last Alliance. He too is a genius in his craft, has the same line of descent as the Thranduilions, and thus can grow a beard in his Second Cycle. Unlike Arvellas, who is more conservative and less consistent about his facial hair, Olondir is always rocking a full beard in honor of his heritage.

SotWK Fancast: Jake Gyllenhaal as Olondir

USEFUL LINKS:

Introduction to SotWK

Main Headcanon Masterlist

[painted-bees]

I've been reading through your hi note posts gradually and just got finished with the long bit about how they met Cortes. There's a lot packed in there that made me squee and sob, but that little sentence or two of Raf recognizing that he'd have a hard time surviving without Margie hit real hard. I think it's because he also identified it as something he needs to work on instead of reflecting on it as a romantic trait.

I hope this next part of my ask isn't upsetting to you: it got me wondering if Raf is familiar with suicidal thoughts and feelings. I haven't seen it explicitly stated anywhere. You don't have to comment on that if it's too raw of a subject, though.

Mostly, I just wanted to tell you I really enjoy this story. The characters resonate a lot.

oh, damn--thank you!! It means a lot to me ; 0;♡

To answer your question, haha it's a topic I kinda...tiptoe around in general because it's a box of very delicate glassware that I don't really like directly handling, but

Raf wouldn't have described himself as suicidal, not at the time. There was never an active desire to carry out that kind of thing, but he -has- gone through periods in his life when he didn't want to be alive. The sort of "it'd be a huge relief if a bus sped along and smacked me out of existence today" kinda thinking. As well, he's done some kinda...lowkey fate-tempting, dice-rolly things...like take more of his anti anxiety or sleeping medication than is recommended, j-walking across genuinely dangerous roads, testing the structural integrity of certain makeshift/temporary structures as he passes them, etc. Just little things where it's like "haha, wouldn't it be funny if -this- is what ends me." General carelessness that wasn't performed out of ignorance but rather just to see 'what happens' whilst -also- knowing/feeling relatively assured that the odds are mostly in favor of 'nothing dramatic'.

He's mostly out of those woods, though. The worst of it, for sure, was during his time in university, and then again during the tail end+ of his relationship with Lacey. Even now, though, he only recognizes those behaviors as 'suicidal' because his therapist has taken care to make sure he -knows- that's what it is. But he himself is still unconvinced that it's really as serious as that. Ragardless, at present, he has absolutely no desire to tempt fate, and it's been a decent while since he has found himself imagining the peace and quiet that a high-speed train to the face would provide.

As his musings about Margie suggests, though, he knows he's still go a ways to go before he can stand on his own two legs and not over-rely on external factors/other people for his mental well being...But it's going. He's still kickin'. He's even having a good time of it, nowadays. It's getting better, and better, and he's really glad he's gotten this far. He's happy.

[dominustempori]

SPOILER ALERT FOR THE GHOSTBUSTERS: FROZEN EMPIRE TRAILER!! (long post, fyi)

Alright Ghostheads, I'm writing all this down now, so I won't forget all these thoughts and observations I'm having JUST a few hours after this awesome teaser for the "Afterlife sequel" has dropped.

I'm sure I'm missing some bits here, so comments are duly welcome, just don't go all negative energy on me =)

Definitely felt a similar vibe to when the first trailer for "Afterlife" came out like 2 years ago now. Normal summer day, good background music, then...sh*t happens. Even worse than that burst of PK energy from the mine shaft. And yeah, I saw bits of "Day After Tomorrow," I'd be lying if I didn't get JUST a little hint of that, but only because, you know, massive storm system overwhelming the south shore of Manhattan. But anyway.

2. I SWEAR that one building shot from the side is 55 Central Park West, aka Spook Central. Probably not significant plot wise this time, just a nod to the original movie. And considering I toured some of the filming sites on my trip to NYC this past summer, SURE looks like it!

3. Deadly icicles ripping up the streets? Like the earthquake tearing up the asphalt in the original movie only BETTER!

4. The discourse is already happening about details...I know some people like Ecto 1-A from GB2, and some fans are still angry about "they ignored it in Afterlife! It's so canon! WTF Jason Reitman?" Yeah...missing the point? [They're not DELIBERATELY ignoring GB2! I LIKED GB2! A lot! Not perfect but still I LIKE IT! Probably a lot more than other fans! The film only had so much time to focus on the past to keep the story moving, so only put in so much of the lore to help a new audience along. That's my theory I'm sticking to it.]

ANYWAY...yes the car IS the original Ecto 1, NOT the 1-A (which was WAY too busy for its own good, just sayin'). I saw the plate on a freeze frame, it's Ecto 1, the original.

5. Enter the exposition cut scenes. or whatever you want to call them. Swear to God that Patton Oswalt, Kumail Nanjiani, Dan, McKenna, and Logan are NOT at Ray's Occult Books...I mean come on look at those glass cases! It's GOTTA be the NY Public Library (throwback!) Patton's character is most likely a staff member, probably a librarian (related to Alice? God I hope so!) [GBs do their research yo! If that's one thing I love about the IDW comics, is how Ray and Egon and Kylie RESEARCH.]

That one bit with the frozen dude with the eyepatch? Looks like a flashback. Like, maybe Manhattan in the...late 1800s? Recurring hauntings is def a thing in the GB universe. Another secret society? Which, yeah, they did to death (sorry) with the Gozer thing, especially in the video game.

6. Liking all the concerned closeups. Paul Rudd still looking good, and I REALLY hope Carrie Coon as Callie has full on dropped the baggage about not having her Dad in her life. Well, mostly. Turned me off from her QUITE a bit in Afterlife, but that's just me. Finn's hair lookin' good short, love how McKenna still rocks the OshKosh look, and Logan with the retro vibe.

7. James Acaster HAS TO BE an adult Oscar. I WILL fight people on this =) Not Louis' kid, not Janine's... (well, maybe?) Peter and Dana are OFFICIALLY still a couple, what's to stop Peter from adopting the boy he saved in GB2? Or at least, maybe they have their own kid later on...? Damn I hope he's Oscar. I mean come on, this is still "Ghostbusters: the Next Generation" in my mind.

8. HAUNTED LION STATUE!!! (Yeah, that's right from Real Ghostbusters...kinda) It's the Library! And on another freeze frame...it's going after Ray (GASP!) That little elevator? Maybe they're going to...Special Collections? Remember the video game? Maybe? Squee?

9. DUDE, it's attacking GBHQ! Blew the freakin' doors off! It's gonna...NO NOT LUCKY! Dude she (they?) is getting the short end of the stick again...first she gets possessed by Zuul and now...please don't kill off Lucky, Gil! Also OGBs FTW!!! yeah Winston! bad ass mf as always! And man does Pete look proper scared. Go Bill Murray!

10. I'm presuming that the big bad/entity was originally trapped and stored in the ECU, hence the blinking red light in the post credits scene from Afterlife. And it's whatever's pushing out the cinder blocks this time around...and freezing Lucky in the basement of HQ? And it's the...thing pushing its demon horns in...(so far others are calling it a minotaur - totally NOT. this guy is so reaching, i mean an old obscure RGB comic reference from a wiki page? dude, just...no. a cross between a White Walker and Slenderman? yeah THOSE I get. I'm personally thinking some ancient demon from a summoning gone wrong...or maybe right in this case.) any case, DUDE with those icy blue staring eyes and 20 feet tall...f*ck yeah.

11. Also F*CK yeah Paul and Carrie in the jumpsuits! YES!!!

12. Alright, I can sort of buy a hidden room in Kumail's character's (presumably?) apartment, secret door at the back of a kitchen pantry with some pretty lead/silver tiling...but, what's with the horn? (SUMMONING HORN! Read the Bartimaeus Trilogy people!) and the shackles? the bells? well, yeah noise to drive away evil spirits...or not? again... SECRET SOCIETY! Or maybe Lucky and Trevor have their own place now? Nah, maybe not...wait and see I guess.

13. Dude...Paul Rudd is TALL, boy! Would like to see if they've actually gone and married...or, too soon? Nah, romantic/life partners is good.

14. I WANT THAT RED WINTER JACKET WITH THE PATCH! SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY!

15. Also, Paul's reaction...SO my own after watching this. He is still fanboy-ing out and I LOVE IT.

Holy hell that was a long post. First genuine reactions on the day. Online journaling. All good.

OK peeps, let me have it. What are y'all thinking?

Until March 29!

[smokeys-house]

I think social elevation of celebrities minor or otherwise is one of the most obnoxious things that happens online. I think it's really annoying when someone like neil gaiman can say any 3 words in response to someone and there'll be hundreds upon hundreds of people squeeing delightfully at a phrase that they'd otherwise ignore simply because he's accomplished. I find it hard to care about that sort of status and it's something that frustrates me because I feel like I'm missing something. I've complained about it before but celebrities and celebrity culture in all its forms is a difficult concept for me to grasp and I'm not sure if its an autism thing or what and the weird thing is I do understand being a fan of someone's work and a fan of them in general but when it goes as far as worship I start to zone out.