#No one would read it all but this serie has so much domestic potential. Those characters are so round....

[impossiblesuitcase]

I wish someone would rewrite the lunar chronicles but better (no offence to Marissa Meyer) and make it cooler with minor alterations. Such as the cresswell age gap, the lack of futuristic or dystopian description besides the author’s own developed ideas like lunars and portscreens, more cyborgs mentioned so it doesn’t seem like Cinder is the only one really, and just overall slightly better writing minus the attributes that make it very clear this was made in the awkward 2010s. This series has so much potential, the whole idea is fantastic really, but the executions haven’t exactly shown that potential. It’s subjective and I’m not saying it’s a horrible trilogy, because it definitely is not, however, the initial interpretation or impression of the “futuristic cyborg cinderella/fairytales” is such an interesting and eye-catching topic on its own that it becomes a let down in certain ways. It could tell the story of all those Pinterest cyberpunk year 3000 cities. Additionally, various writers and authors have their own unique style of writing and it’d be quite compelling to read this series in a different style, preferably a dystopian author like the ready player one type

I agree to an extent. I too would want to alter some elements such as the wolfen soldiers and the alpha mate aspect. It would be cool to further enhance some of the futuristic elements of the setting. However what we have to consider is this--is there time for that? I personally don't see how more worldbuilding beyond the already extensive groundwork laid could work without slowing the story and pacing. Winter is 800 pages already--imagine if you added to it with further exposition! I feel it would suffer, not shine.

This is not a story about what a technologically-advanced society could look like, it's a story about a lost princess who reclaims her throne and overthrows a broken political system--set in a futuristic society. Marissa is foremost interested in characters and plot, still, when you sit back and analyse the worldbuilding, you can clearly see that she put a lot of thought into it. Cyborgs, escort droids, language evolution, robotic animals, political conflicts, space cruise ships; there's a lot of cool stuff in there! I think of all the things to improve about tlc, this would be low priority.

Moreover, this isn't intended to be a dystopian series, it's a sci-fi fantasy series. No, it doesn't have the social commentary like The Hunger Games, but it isn't trying to. The books in The Lunar Chronicles are based on fairytales, and are therefore meant to reflect the romantic, sometimes improbably fantastical elements of such. And yet still, this series explores themes of racism, ableism, sexual assault, suicide, domestic abuse and classism. These are not the main focus of the story, but they certainly aren't ignored. If the series was any darker, its core values of love, adventure and friendship could fall to the wayside.

You mentioned that the series is a trilogy so perhaps you haven't read all the books (the main series is actually a tetralogy, but the whole series is 7 books in total). If you are looking for a darker, more dystopian feel, try Fairest. For more cyborgs, try The Little Android in Stars Above.

So overall, would I enjoy reading tlc by a different author? Sure. I would love to see how an Asian author would depict New Beijing and the Eastern Commonwealth. However would I enjoy any other version more than the original? I don't think so. It would lose the humour, friendships and character developments that are uniquely Marissa. If The Lunar Chronicles isn't written by Marissa Meyer, then it just simply is not The Lunar Chronicles.

That's just my thoughts and I can understand your opinion.

[withacapitalp]

i’m gonna be real here, and i mean this in the kindest way - i loved your wayne & steve series so much when i first read it, and i just stumbled on it again and saw it was still updating and thought ‘now why didn’t i subscribe???’ and then went back to reread and catch up, and then i got to the end of the fifth fic and remembered why - it seemed like you were turning it into one of those fics where billy is a rapist, who abused & assaulted steve, & you didn’t tag that you would be using him as a villain, and in your end notes you said that arc would feature heavily in your next fic, but then i go to that fic and i don’t see any relevant tags or warnings and i didn’t want to read and get even more attached and then be caught off guard, again, by such a harsh depiction of one of the characters without any warning.

idk. i get that a lot of people don’t like billy, and that’s fair and it’s up to everybody which characters they do and don’t jive with. it’s not even like i haven’t read and enjoyed fics where billy is set firmly as a villain or presented in a really 2 dimensional way, because i have. but it’s different when you go into a fic, wanting to read about a certain dynamic and certain characters, and are blind-sided with hate towards another character that you like - especially when the author has decided to depict that character sexually assaulting somebody and implies that the character is a repeat sexual predator. that’s really heavy to be sort of thrown into on a fic where you’re not expecting to see that character at all, you know?

like i said, i really enjoy most of your fics and i think you’re a great writer. i guess i’m just disappointed that i’ve now TWICE had the experience of happily reading your fic and then being blindsided by such a dark depiction of a character who wasn’t even tagged. it’s really disconcerting and upsetting. ao3 has a great tagging system and i wish you’d chosen to use it a bit more effectively, i guess.

looking at your sixth fic in that series, it’s not tagged for domestic violence, sexual assault, anything like that, and it also has no tags for billy, a past steve/billy relationship, or even just a general ‘this fic is not billy friendly’ tag. looking at it i’d never think you’d have any of that sort of content in it, especially because you DID tag for /other/ potentially triggering content, but then in the end notes of the fifth fic you said that the sixth fic would deal very much so with that introduced plot line. it just sucks because i’d probably read it if i didn’t feel so much like i was clicking on a youtube jump scare video.

Long ask and long reply so I'm going to put my thoughts under a read more but TL:DR This is the kind of constructive criticism that is incredibly valid, and I appreciate your courage and energy that you put into writing all this. Also I'm going to get slightly personal here so if you don't want to read that just continue on

This is like, strangely, the fourth or fifth ask I've gotten about A New Perspective today, which has forced me to look at it again and admit to myself why I stepped away from it.

I use my fics to work through a lot of my own personal things. This fic series and the relationship that Billy and Steve have in it is based entirely on a real life relationship I had with an ex. They have an incredibly complicated sexual relationship that is inherently unhealthy for both of them. Not just Steve. Not just Billy. Steve does not think of himself as a victim, he sees himself as the problem. In reality it's both of them. I think Billy Hargrove is a really interesting character, I don't talk about him a lot here because he's really divisive in the fandom, and I don't need to get involved in Billy drama tbh.

For this fic he isn't the villain to Steve, even if he might seem like a monster, and I hope that gets across when I eventually come back to this series. I took a break from it for a lot of reasons, but part of it is needing to reevaluate what I'm getting out of writing it, and if it's healthy for me. I don't know if this is an exceptionally harsh depiction of Billy, it's not necessarily positive, but it does have a lot of different layers. Finding a nuanced way to portray that relationship (and a way to work through my own thoughts and feelings about mine) isn't easy, but I don't really think I write it in a two-dimensional way. I'm not sure if you were saying I did, but if you were, I'll just have to respectfully disagree and leave it at that.

As for tags, well this one I just have to own up and say I'm sorry. I didn't really know how to tag it, because I still didn't know what to consider for them. I don't really know how to consider my own relationship, which is what this is based on. So tagging it with things like sexual abuse or with things like SA...I don't know I just haven't worked through if it would even be considered that?

Regardless of my personal journey with my writing though, there's outside readers who have their own journeys. It's something that you explained in a really clear way, so I appreciate that you took the time to make me see where I was leaving a gap. I don't want people to think it was intentional? I don't think of my fics as a 'YouTube jumpscares' but more as a complicated web of a lot of things I work through in my own mind.

I put the note on my fifth fic to let people know that there would be a lot of complicated stuff going on, and so they could choose to opt out or not, but I understand that wasn't enough. If anyone got triggered or upset by what I wrote, then I do sincerely apologize for that. We talk a lot about curating your own online experience, but to do that you also have to be properly prepared for the experiences you go into. Where I didn't help contribute to that is on me.

As for people who might be worried about the series mentioning this a lot after this? It won't. I work through things in my own way, and I knew I wanted to make this part of Steve's journey, but it's not his entire journey. After this there's just a lot of fluffy parts like the first few one shots again. This was just something I needed for myself.

It's funny, I owe that series a lot, but I honestly just kind of hate it right now.

I don't really know if 'being blinded by hate' is really fair to say about the relationship I'm trying to portray, because I don't hate Billy and neither does Steve. There's love there, and a wish for something better that they'll never get to have, and I hope that you can stick with it to see how it all plays out. I like to think I'm writing for more than just bashing on a character. As for just dropping it in, well I've known what I want to do this entire time, but I can understand where people would come from thinking it was just dropped in.

I'm sorry if you're disappointed, but don't forget, writers are just humans too. We do things and we make mistakes, and this was just one of mine. I think I have everything properly tagged on the series now? If you feel differently though, you're welcome to DM me. I don't bite. I struggle with ao3 tagging in general, so I'm always grateful when anyone suggests tags I should be adding. Someone told me today I should add a genderfluid Steve tag to my latest fic, and I didn't even realize I forgot to.

Anyways. Long and probably too personal, but I figured I wanted to explain best I could. If you don't care about any of that, well, the tags got added.

[timingmatters]

Re-reading tales from the shadowhunter academy and oh my god mark and Kieran!!! But most importantly!! Kieran!!!! My little baby boy i love him so much!!!!!

Like if i could rate all characters i think it would be (and this is a v unpopular ranking i think btw):

1- all the malec family. Including the kids. They all take the first spot.

2- KIERAN MY BABY

3- Jace and Isabelle

4- lily (i just love her shes so fun!! And yet so complex, full of longing and tragedy and yet so much live and fire and a will of iron. So brave. So gay. My beautiful girl).

5- cristina my wild baby

6- mark! (He would be so much more up if i didnt get a little annoyed every time i think on how he manipulated kieran with his love while simultaneously persuing cristina as if kieran didn’t matter. Ik he made up for it, and i adore him, but i will always be a little annoyed at him).

7- emma and julian!!!!!!!!!!!

8- clary and simon!!! (I swear i do love them, they just tend to annoy me more than the rest lmaoo)

9- the other blackthorn kids!!! Altho i feel like once the last series is out Dru and Ty (and ash + kit) will all go up in the rankings tbh.

Everyone else regardless of how i love them doesn’t really call to me. Like these are all characters i would read books based on. Everyone else i wouldn’t read a story solemnly on them so no spot number 10. Maybe Helen and Aline take spot number 10 because i could read a story about them???? But I’m genuinely not too sure i would. I tend to like really angsty characters trying their best and i just feel like Helen and Aline tend to be written as very stable people shhdhn so i’m not too sure i would jump to read a story about them immediately as is out, but i would 100% read it with time.

I might as well also rank my fave ships tho:

1- malec (obviously)

2- KIERARKTINA MY LOVES EVERY DAY I PRAY FOR THEIR HAPPY ENDING

3- Sizzy tbh altho half their written time has been spent with me vocally threatening simon (me talking to the books) whenever he hurts izzy bc thats my baby angel girl

4- jace and clary!!

5- emma and julian!!!!!!! They could honestly go up jace and clary, is just that jace and clary have nostalgia on their side

6- Helen and Aline!!!!!!!

7- Jem and Tessa. I do waver sometimes because (VERY UNPOPULAR OPINION!!!) i didnt like the love triangle with will!!! Those books fill me with anxiety more than enjoyment lmao. I do prefer jem and tessa. I like the peaceful love they have so much more. I like the idea that the one you love gives you serenity and peace over the PASSION!!! ANGST!!! Tropes. BUT I understand the love triangle is complicated, that she loves them both equally but differently (or thats what Cassandra tries to write at the very least, didnt feel like that because she disregarded Jem’s pov but whATEVER). Nonetheless i do really love the jem and tessa dynamic. A love that waited thousands of years but never weakened or hesitated.

Again, i have the suspicion ty and kit will go up a lot in rankings once the books about them are out. I also have my eye on Dru and Jaime, but with the age difference i put a stop. I know the books coming up will have a time skip and Dru will be like 18 or close to it, but i hear people say her love interest might be ash and the idea of that actually calls my attention so much???? So they could potentially go up too. Although mostly I’m excited to see how the time skip changed the kierarktina dynamics (Hopefully they still see each other like montly at the cabin and are very domestic by now. Hopefully someone has given kieran a cat by the time skip). And how the time skip and made the lightwood-bane family grow🥹 (the kids hopefully will have more scenes on their own and with malec).

[mylifeisadeceit]

All the zaunists, that are main characters, know how to sew.

Sewing is an extremely useful skill and since all of them come from a background where it would be almost necessary..... It's also a good way to relieve stress so they desperately need it.

This headcanon has a lot of potential imo.

Viktor is fairly good at sewing, he knows how to repair almost everything. In my head it wasn't rare for him to have incidents while creating so lab coats or normal clothes are no match for him, you won't even see he put his hand on those.

When he went to piltover his skills improved, you know when you have to maintain your only uniform, which your parents worked hard to get you. This is actually canon, Viktor's parent saved money for months so they could buy him a uniform and he pretended to be a student until Heimerdinger noticed him, which probably included explosions, knowing the character.

He cannot create clothes tho, he's skilled but not really interested in fashion.

Jayce never eve earned how to sew, his family had other plans for him. Hhhhhh So when he comes more in touch with Viktor's way of working and incidents start to appear more and more frequently...

- btw this would happen, Viktor had highly valatile magic rocks in his home for months and when the kids went there not a scratch was found; this man is cautious. Unlike Viktor, the guy that when a window explodedhe started to worry -

He just sends hs clothes to some tailor, but he also starts to notice all the patches on Viktor's lab clothes and he's like "did you fight with a racoon????" but his buddy is just too tired to sew properly.

He may or may not start to ask Viktor to teach him after he failed to convince him to send his clothes to a tailor.

And ok maybe he DID scratched hdi shirt on purpose so that he could've have an excuse for asking

And he may or may not have done that to convince Viktor on taking a break from lab work but you didn't hear that from me.

Vi can sew perfectly. Her mother taught her since a very young age and it's an activity that makes her feel more close to her mum.

And he knows everything about clothes and had her ways around leather.

She made Powder's various outfits and partially her owns, but with those Vander helps a great deal, he's a little less fancy but tries his best.

Since we're talking about Vander, he didn't learn as a child like almost everyone on the list but was thought by other people in his life and finds it very difficult, and since he has become the protector of the undercity, it's difficult to find the time but often bonds with Vi expecially when she tries something difficult and he's there to give her tips or even whole tutorials that he can recite by memory.

Caitlyn on the othe hand cannot and will never learn how to sew.

They tried to teach her.... It didn't work.

But she's ecstatic at Vi's hand movements, she would almost cry when Vi makes her a dress, and then another, and jackets and and and... They would take their calm moments to close to each others, Cait reading or polishing her various old guns, while Vi learns embroidery or repairs her old jacket...

You know who can also sew very well? Benzo. He may not admit it but he has gotten good with the years and is skilled in a wide variety of materials.

Ekko is also very skilled but only wit specific kind of materials or untypical ones. He manages to implement them in his day to day inventions.

He doesn't really sew his own clothes but personalises them.

Benzo taught him... But he learns fast and quickly surpassed him. Nn He would be the one teaching the kids in his city how to sew... And they would all make him a beautiful outfit... I won't say that he'd cry but he would.

You can bet your butt that Silco knows indeed how to sew.

He may not do that often or, like, entirely now that he's a mafia boss, but he's damn skilled.

Like Vi he knows how to repair, create and design clothes and knows how to work mostly with that. And he may not make him himself anymore but if those clothes aren't specifically made for him to fit his particular style I don't know what to tell you.

It would also be funny if he developed his patience teaching Vander how to sew.

They were friends right? Almost like brothers, I can't believe they would pass 100% scheming or smth.

Benzo and Silco teaching Vander how to sew would be extremely funny because sewing... Is just like this, it takes quite a lot of patience and sometime you don't even know what's wrong?????

So now even if it pains him just to remember, Vander knows whole tutorials that were prepared specifically for him and repeated to him over and over again because he's an hothead.

Benzo didn't have the patience, he was great with tips tho.

Powder/Jinx knows how to sew.

Vi taught her the basis but it was mostly something Vi would do with Vander while Powder was busing inventing and creating, togheter in the same room.

After her second family died, she found sewing again with silco, this was a way of bonding that she knew even if only in the back of her mind and would've probably started the firs time she ever ripped her shirt.

Silco would recite suspiciously similar tutorials to her...

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Piece by Piece: Halfway Happy

I’m just posting the fic here instead of the former link because god, mobile Tumblr hates me. 

Fandom: Stranger Things Rating: T (for now, huehuehue) Pairing: Steddie Category: Established relationship, trauma, healing, domestic fluff  Series summary: Healing doesn't happen at once, it is like a puzzle, a mozaic, piece by piece. Steve excels at shoving those broken pieces under the nearest carpet and pretending they don't exist. Eddie excels at finding them and returning them to Steve, glued back together. A series of standalone moments from Steve and Eddie's relationship and how Steve learns to be cared for. Chapter 1 summary: Steve collects responsibilities like stupid porcelain figurines and his most recent one is fixing Eddie’s eating habits. Eddie hates being told what to do, but maybe, just maybe there could be a potential compromise. 

You can also read it HERE.

You will see a lot of parentheses in this fic. The reason? The POV is Eddie's and I see him as a guy whose ideas have a mind of their own and he has to chase and redirect them at least once or twice a sentence. I hope you understand and forgive me. I swear it's intentional.

This will have multiple chapters (M rating for the future ones), most of them standalone, but tying into the topic of Steve's tendency to carry all the weight of the world on his shoulders and Eddie's disregard for his own safety and well-being.

Anyway.

Chapter 1: Halfway Happy

This isn't right. Why does he feel responsible for this again?

Eddie really should have noticed some signs sooner, but that was the thing with Steve Harrington. He had many talents, some more surprising than others, but sneakiness and being inconspicuous with his feelings weren't exactly among those (perhaps because Steve didn't know what "inconspicuous" means. Big words and all that). He was almost painfully honest and transparent, which - and past Eddie would have gagged for only thinking this - made him a perfect company for someone as paranoid and twitchy as Eddie. How could you feel unsafe around a man who couldn't lie to save his life? How could you suspect that he was hiding something? Then again, and Eddie would kick himself mentally for months for missing that, Steve hiding something out of concern for others was very much like him. Always self-sacrificing, even when it was no longer necessary.

Eddie himself was, self-admittedly, full of shit and he loved riling people up with the most outrageous things imaginable, but also loved fantasy and if you twisted his arm, very firmly, preferably with Steve whispering tiny encouragements into his ear and mouthing at his neck, he might have admitted (quietly, very quietly, and then deny it till his dying day) that he was an idealist. His father had tried his very best to extinguish that tiny flame of hope in him, repeated ad nauseam that "there is no good or bad in this world, everything you want you need to take yourself. Concern is for weaklings," he told little Eddie when the boy turned worried eyes at a toy left in the backseat of the car they were just stealing and, in his naive youth, asked whether the family will be okay when they have a kid to take care of. "No one is going to give you anything, so grow up."

Well, turns out his dad didn't know shit, because Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins and now his (how did this happen to him, the freak, Eddie Munson? How did he of all people end up with the hottest man in Hawkins, and, more importantly, someone who had no idea what Mordor was?!) boyfriend had just waltzed into his life, bit a demobat or two, threw himself into another dimension again and again, either with a bat or stupidly unarmed, while babysitting a group of annoyingly lovable brats. To top that, he nursed Eddie back to health when Vecna's attempt at resurrection didn't go exactly as he'd intended (a fuck-up in life, death and resurrection, no surprises there) and...

He never asked for anything.

Never.

Steve was just giving, giving anything and everything, food, shelter, advice, hugs, kisses...more. Eddie sometimes dreamt of taking Steve to see his dad in prison, just have Steve stand there, the hair and everything, while Eddie would display him as the most precious treasure in the world and yell at his dad "HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THIS, HUH?!"

So yeah, the idealism. Eddie loved fantasy and felt like Steve was a full party in one delicious package - a protective warrior, ready to face any danger with a bat in his hand to keep his loved ones safe (did Eddie count? He hoped so. He'd have to ask Steve just in case. And if Steve started a new habit out of it, saying "I still love you, by the way, if you were wondering" in the most random moments, Eddie didn't mind at all). A hilarious bard, always cheering up the rest of the group (mostly unintentionally, although Eddie suspected he sometimes accentuated his stupidity to lighten the mood). A caring healer, always there after a battle, his gentle hands making sure that Eddie's injuries were clean, well-treated.  A mage...well, the Harrington charm had to count as a spell. It just does, there's no other explanation for the things Steve's voice did to Eddie. Steve was, to put it simply, just everything.

And he was so good at that everything that it took Eddie embarrassingly long to notice that, maybe, Steve really didn't know how to relax. A full party in a single person, so self-reliant that he didn't really get why anyone else would take over any of his responsibilities.

The first time Eddie noticed something was off was when they were watching a movie together. It was a wonderfully domestic scene - Eddie slumped against Steve, beer in hand, head thrown back with barks of laughter as Steve valiantly (and ineffectively) pretended to be an expert on recent video releases and their significance in the grand scheme of things (or the film world). Well, not really pretended, Eddie was pretty sure Steve understood how fruitless that would be, but somehow they got into a bickering match on how useless Steve was at his job at Family Video when he had absolutely zero idea about movies, genres and all that jazz (he also had no taste, Eddie claimed, and he'd die to another demobat swarm before he'd admit that watching romantic comedies was way more palatable when Steve leaned into his shoulder, gentle smile on his lips, unaware his hand was squeezing Eddie's tighter during love confessions and happy endings). Steve - of course - denied this and proclaimed he was an expert on bullshitting his way through any and all unknown topics, that his charm and quick tongue (Eddie snorted and wiggled his eyebrows at that and Steve smacked him with a pillow) would save his ass again and again. He offered to prove it and asked Eddie to choose a movie to recommend to an imaginary customer.

And that was how they got to this moment, with Steve describing the progressive character tropes and psychological merit of The Nightmare on the Elm Street. Not even ten seconds in and Eddie was howling in laughter at his insistence on how the movie poses a challenge to look beyond the physical defects and into the soul of the villain. Eddie mused that Steve had maybe seen a picture of Freddy Krueger and used that single image for a full-blown (and fully misguided) moral argument. And while his confident claims were absolutely and outrageously ridiculous, he couldn't help but listen, watch Steve's animated expressions, his free hand gesticulating to convey the importance of how we need to let go of our biases.

"Okay, okay, I yield, Harrington," Eddie wheezed and wiped tears from his eyes, grinning at Steve. "You are an excellent employee. The best if you want to get someone to watch a movie."

Steve grinned back and pulled Eddie closer to him. "Told you. The Harrington charm."

"I just wouldn't want to be there when your customers come back after actually watching what you rented them. I mean. The lecture was great, 10/10. But you know it's a slasher, right?"

Steve shook his head. "Well, duh. But even slashers can have those...you know. Overtones. Maybe the poor scarred claw guy just needs some understanding or something." He winked at Eddie. Winked. With those ridiculously thick lashes and all. The asshole.

"Now that's settled, we definitely need to watch it and see what you think of Mr. Krueger afterwards," Eddie laughed and nuzzled closer to Steve, his ringed fingers playing with the other man's t-shirt.

It had become quiet, just warmth and shared touches, and Eddie found himself relaxing, his mind at peace. That is, until his stomach gave a quiet growl, nothing major, nothing to be nervous about. All stomachs do that sometimes.

So why was Steve staring at him with that look, the one he gave to the kids when he found out they were up to some dangerous bullshit again and hadn't bothered to tell him?

"Are you hungry?"

Eddie waved his hand. "Nah, I'm fine, man. Don't worry about it."

But of course, Steve did worry about it. That was the whole thing about Steve. Caring and absolutely relentless. The deep breath he took warned Eddie that this would be yet another bickering match that he would, eventually, lose. Didn't mean he would go down easily though.

Steve frowned and put some distance between them, just enough to observe Eddie's face closely. Does he expect a sign saying THIS YOUNG MAN IS STARVING or something?  "You sure? Because you haven't eaten anything normal today-"

Ah, there it was. The battle had begun. Eddie cocked his head to the side and put on his best offended face. "Excuse me! That box of cereals didn't eat itself!"

"It had been almost empty."

"And now it's completely empty!" Eddie grinned. "Hence, I ate."

But Steve was not amused. Or even remotely convinced. "Something nutritious?"

"Uhhh..." Okay, that was a tough one. "The box said so...?" Eddie tried, using his doe eyes to the fullest advantage (and failing spectacularly because while his eyes normally had Steve stuttering and forgetting the topic of their conversation or sometimes even his own - but never Eddie's - name, the caring and protective side of him just wouldn't switch off).

Steve shook his head. "The box is a filthy liar."

Eddie grasped at his chest dramatically, throwing himself back against the sofa. "That traitor. The fiend! I really thought I could trust him! Or it. I think it. That sounds more devious, don't you think, Stevie?"

And of course, Harrington just wouldn't get off his back. Eddie didn't do well with people telling him what to do, he'd normally flip them off and leave, but Steve's earnest voice, the please-let-me-care-for-you-or-I-will-be-miserable look in those eyes, the long fingers gently stroking Eddie's arm through the t-shirt...he could never just push the man away.  He wondered if Steve realized how special he was to Eddie, to go through this dance every so often and never throw up his hands, say "fuck that!" and leave the door at the slightest bump in the carpet.

Steve just twisted in his seat more, watching Eddie with a gentle smirk. "You need something proper, Eddie. Something that's not just sugar and artificial coloring. Plus, it's sort of a fast energy thing, it goes up and then down really quickly-"

"Makes it a good fit for me," Eddie quipped.

"- and your stomach's been singing me serenades-"

Munson threw up his hands in defense. "Baby, all of me wants to serenade you and have you let down your beautiful hair from the tower Harrington. Can't blame my stomach for that."

It was quiet for a second and then: "...Eddie."

He swallowed heavily, his throat suddenly tight. "...yes, Steve?"

Eddie didn't want to look up, didn't want to see that he was, yet again, causing worry to the most precious person in his life, but then there were warm hands on his own, intertwining their fingers. His eyes met Steve's as he prepared for the inevitable loss.

"Can I please," Steve said, his voice serious and his hand squeezing Eddie's more tightly than should be necessary, "can I please get you something. Just a sandwich or...or I can heat up something, it doesn't matter. So please...will you let me?"

Ah, there it was. Even more effective than the Harrington charm. Eddie sighed and reached out, stroking Steve's face gently. "If it makes you feel better, then yes."

And just like that, Steve smiled, radiant and content, and Eddie found himself thinking he'd eat dozens of sandwiches to keep that expression on his boyfriend's face forever. Not much of a sacrifice, really. All his cooking was delicious, even the simplest things tasted so much better than most things Eddie ever ate (although that might be saying more about Eddie's disregard for something as mundane as food).

The realization came a bit later, when Eddie started happily munching on a sandwich. Steve was still smiling, but his expression slightly dropped.

"Whut?" Eddie hummed at him, trying to keep his chewing noises down. "It's really good, if you're worried about that."

Steve shook his head. "No, not that. Although I'm happy you like it. It's just...I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner. That I should have prepared something."

That had Eddie staring back at him, mid-chew, forgetting to swallow. "Um." Oh yeah, the bread. Gulping down the rest, he gave an incredulous chuckle. "Steve, I'm older than you, you know that, right? I'm pretty sure that I won't starve to death if you decide to take a nap, watch a movie or something. I managed to survive until now after all."

"Barely," and ow, that one hurt. Because while Eddie went for a teasing tone, Steve's betrayed what he really thought. The constant worry, the smell of blood and toxic spores that would stay with them forever.

And yes, Eddie disliked, hated, abhorred when people had the audacity to try and change him, when they wanted him to act against his nature. The logical thing would have been to say something along the lines of I don't answer to you, Harrington, and I'm not a fucking child you need to watch 24/7. That would be the pre-Vecna Eddie. And in a way, he still felt that way, he still had that rebellious streak (or two, three, a dozen). But there was also this, the love, warmth, laughter and discussion on hidden kindness of Freddy Krueger, and even if he lashed out sometimes and spoke too fast and maybe had to explain himself while his hands travelled in the weirdest patterns to illustrate his point, he would go to the hell and back (again) to keep all that. To keep Steve.

The post-Vecna Eddie just sighed, ate the rest of his sandwich in one bite and scooted towards Steve who was now avoiding his gaze, staring intently at his feet as if there was an incredible show happening just to the left of his sock. "Hey."

Nope, the sock was still more interesting than what Eddie had to say. "I know it's stupid," Steve muttered. "I'm not doubting you or anything, I know you can take care of yourself, but..." He left the rest unsaid. Eddie would be lying if he said he understood, because how did they even get here over a stupid stomach growl? But the magical lab girl El taught him an important word - compromise, apparently halfway happy - and maybe this was the right time to practice what it meant.

"I'll tell you what, big boy," smiled Eddie and the change in tone finally made Steve abandon his floor watching. "I promise that I'll be more conscious of the proper and nutritious food thing if that makes you feel better. But! Please, for the love of all your nuggets and then some," and Steve snorted at this and that might have been just the small push Eddie needed, "never think my less than ideal habits are your fault. I mean, I think they're absolutely fine, but you have," he waves his hands in the air, "standards. So, I propose an exchange."

"That sounds ominous," Steve mumbled, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Eddie nudged his side. "Ominous! What a big word, I'm a proud man! Anyways. Your back is pretty fucked up, or so I hear every morning." Ignoring Steve's protests, he carried on. "If you let me help you with that, I swear on my guitar I will eat. Something. Nutritious," he spat out with feigned disgust.

He knew that Steve didn't really let anyone take care of him, that he was always restless, looking for something he could be doing for others. And Harrington was almost as stubborn as Eddie. He really, really struggled not to chew on his hair waiting for Steve's response.

"So...you're telling me that I get a massage and you start eating well?" Steve chuckled and the tension was gone, just like that. "You've got a deal. Seriously, Munson, where is the catch?" And if Eddie ended up in his lap even faster than usual, well. As if he needed excuses.

"Oh, baby," Eddie smiled against his mouth, "did I mention I'd get to pick the music to accompany that massage?"

"Well, shit."

....

Oh yeah, that small tidbit about a failed resurrection? A fanfic in planning. Yours truly can nowadays hardly write in her native language, not to mention English, so any corrections are welcome.

AS ARE COMMENTS. PLEASE. THEY ARE LIKE COFFEE TO MY TIRED SOUL. TALK TO ME. WAKE ME UP INSIDE. (Desperate Evanescence sounds)

Ahem.

[basic-otaku]

My thoughts on Xue Yang's character (based on the drama and novel)

Xue Yang is a character I didn’t fully understand until I finished The Untamed. I looked back on him with a bit of pity but little understanding. It wasn’t until I listened to his character song that I truly began to dissect his character. Reading those lyrics completely flipped my perspective on him, and I went back to watch the Yi City arc again. I was shocked by how much I had missed. Xue Yang has since become one of my favorite characters of the series. I’ve spent so much time thinking about him and his motives that I finally decided to write down my thoughts. This analysis comes mostly from what I perceived, so it may differ from other people’s opinions. You are free to disagree with me.

Let’s start with what we know: Xue Yang was a street kid with a hard childhood. We know he was abandoned at a young age, but we don’t know how young. However, he must have been old enough to survive, so he couldn’t have been younger than four when he started fending for himself. We don’t know who his parents are because he doesn’t remember them, nor does he remember anyone else who had potentially taken care of him. His parents could be dead for all we know, or they could have dumped him somewhere when they no longer wanted to take care of him. It’s all up to speculation. He also has a very high pain tolerance, probably due to constant beatings as a child.

When you’re all alone in the world, you have to learn to put yourself first. There’s no one to care for you, so only you can care for yourself. I believe that Xue Yang wasn’t always a bad person because no one is inherently evil. However, because he was alone, there was no one to nurture him and teach him right from wrong. When all you experience is violence and hatred, that becomes your response to similar situations; you don’t expect kindness or want to give it in return.

One of Xue Yang’s flaws as a child was his naivety — he was much too quick to trust. That’s how he got himself into such a bad situation. He was eager to have something he was never able to have (candy), so he immediately trusted that shopkeeper when he said he could have some as a reward for running an errand. What he got in return wasn’t candy, but a brutal beating and a severed pinky. If Xue Yang had still had any faith left in humanity, this is the point where it would have left him. The remaining childhood innocence in him was gone. This brings me to an interesting piece of dialogue. In Yi City, when Xue Yang confronts Song Lan and tells him what he’s been up to, Song Lan curses at him, calling him an animal. Xue Yang laughs at him and says, “I quit using those words when I was seven.” And what happened to Xue Yang’s finger? “One finger was ground into battered flesh on the spot. The child was seven.” Even Xue Yang himself knows that moment was when everything changed, and he still carries the resentment with him now.

Back to the cart incident. This event scarred him for life and was the primary reason he became a sociopath. Now he’s bent on revenge. He was powerless as a child; just another street rat who shouldn’t be treated like a human being nor spared any pity. So, when he realizes he can do the same to those that hurt him, he takes it much further. When he was old enough and strong enough, he exacts his revenge. He wanted to make the Chang Clan feel his pain — not only for the finger he had lost but for his whole miserable life up to that point. If no one deigned to understand him, then he’d make them understand in the only way he knew how. With violence.

Xue Yang was only fifteen or sixteen when he slaughtered the Chang Clan, killing more than fifty people. This is where he meets Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. From the first moment, Xue Yang hates Xiao Xingchen. He’s so righteous, so full of light. He thinks he makes the world better just by doing a little good. What a hypocrite. Where was he when he was needed? Where was he when Xue Yang was a seven-year-old boy left crying in the streets after having his finger ground to a pulp? No, nobody can be that good.

When Xue Yang is captured by Wei Wuxian and the others, Xiao Xingchen takes him back to Qinghe to be apprehended, and Xue Yang vows to get his revenge on Xiao Xingchen for it. It isn’t long after he escapes from Qinghe that Xue Yang slaughters Baixue Temple, blinding Song Lan in the process. According to Xue Yang’s logic, hurting Xiao Xingchen’s friend is just as bad as hurting Xiao Xingchen himself. This is what causes the rift between Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. Without this incident, Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen may never have met again.

A few years have likely passed while Xue Yang was working for Jin Guangyao. He is probably closer to eighteen or nineteen when Jin Guangyao injures him and throws him out, which is how Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing find him. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t hesitate in bringing Xue Yang back to Yi City with him and A-Qing and caring for his wounds. Xue Yang wakes up pained and disoriented, but he immediately tries to back away when he realizes who is tending to him. He doesn’t know Xiao Xingchen is unaware of his identity, and probably thinks that Xiao Xingchen is getting ready to take him to face justice or something. But Xiao Xingchen insists that he doesn’t need to know who Xue Yang is and that he’s only doing what’s right. Xue Yang is clearly shocked by this admission. He truly cannot comprehend kindness, and this is the first time he’s ever experienced it.

This is also the first time we get to see his genuine smile. It’s shocked and incredulous, like he can’t believe this is happening, but it’s there. Throughout the series, Xue Yang’s snarky words and sly smirk are a token of his character, but now we know they are just a mask he uses to hide the small, broken child inside of him. If no one can see the hurt he hides, then no one can hurt him further. But with just one kind gesture, Xiao Xingchen was able to bring out the young boy who just wanted love and comfort.

This kindness is such a foreign concept to Xue Yang that he doesn’t think it’s genuine for a long time. But as the years pass, Xue Yang comes to realize that Xiao Xingchen isn’t a threat. This is something he scoffs at. Xiao Xingchen is ridiculously naïve; so stupid. If he knew who he was living with, who he was eating with, he wouldn’t act like this. He would treat Xue Yang the same way everyone else had. So, Xue Yang decides to trick Xiao Xingchen into murdering innocent people for revenge. Xue Yang can’t wait for Xiao Xingchen to find out what Xue Yang has made him do because it’ll break him. What this revenge is for is up to interpretation. Maybe he’s still angry about being captured and sent to Qinghe. Maybe he’s angry at the world for treating him so badly. Maybe Xue Yang wants to show Xiao Xingchen that his worldview is stupid and that there are no good or pure people in the world. I choose to believe that it’s the last one.

At least, this is his motivation at first — he slowly loses the will to harm Xiao Xingchen. This brings me to another interesting point. In episode three, Xue Yang says he doesn’t fear death, he fears boredom. But isn’t this domestic life he’s living with Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing considered boring by his standards? I think the boredom he speaks of is really the fear of being alone and having nothing at all. Now he’s happy, however reluctantly he’s willing to admit it. He wouldn’t have put up with A-Qing’s petulant behavior if he didn’t enjoy the time they spent together. Although they didn’t get along at first, Xue Yang protects A-Qing and takes care of her like an annoying older brother. He teases her, sure, but he also cuts her apple slices in the shape of rabbits and gives her advice on how to scare away the people who bully her (even though killing them isn’t great advice). Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing were the family he never had. Now he would do anything to preserve the life he is living.

After about a year, Xue Yang’s plan stopped being about revenge. I’m not completely sure how he justified this change of heart, but I like to think he told himself he was still biding his time and that he’d get back to it eventually (even if he had stopped thinking about hurting Xiao Xingchen). Based on what A-Qing told Song Lan when he arrived at Yi City, Xue Yang hadn’t taken Xiao Xingchen out on one of those night hunts in a long time. And most of the people that Xue Yang made Xiao Xingchen kill were the merchants that made fun of his blindness and cheated him with bad vegetables and high prices. It was a messed-up way to get revenge for Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang hates being looked down on, so shouldn’t Xiao Xingchen feel the same way?

Nevertheless, the time they spent in Yi City was probably the only time Xue Yang had been happy in his entire life. Xiao Xingchen was so in tune with what Xue Yang needed that Xue Yang came to care for him deeply. Whether those feelings were romantic or platonic in nature is up to the viewer, but I believe Xue Yang had fallen in love with Xiao Xingchen in the only sick and twisted way he could. Xiao Xingchen understood him more than anyone ever had, going so far as to listen to his idle ramblings and bring him a piece of candy every day after hearing that he had loved sweets as a child but could never have any. He managed to tame the savage beast in Xue Yang’s heart with only his presence and basic human decency. Xue Yang’s bloodlust was satiated as long as he had Xiao Xingchen to take care of him. At this point, I don’t think he would ever actually kill Xiao Xingchen. He had stopped wanting to hurt him a long time ago. A-Qing? Sure. She’s expendable, but Xiao Xingchen is irreplaceable. Even if Xue Yang reluctantly came to care about her, it wasn’t the same kind of bond. She had never shown him the same kindness that Xiao Xingchen had. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she betrayed him, but she was important to Xiao Xingchen, which meant he couldn’t do her any harm if he didn’t want to disrupt their happy life.

If Song Lan hadn’t found them, how long would Xue Yang have stayed? I don’t even think he knew. He just knew that he didn’t want to leave anymore. Xiao Xingchen gave him too much for him to want that. The viewer can easily see the happiness in his eyes when he looks at Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang acts like a kid around him — playing games, joking around, making him laugh with childish remarks. Even in the quiet moments, he’s happy. This was especially noticeable in the campfire scene. It wasn’t shown in the original drama, but in the special edition, Xue Yang smiled at Xiao Xingchen from across the fire, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at his daozhang was so tender that it honestly caught me off guard. It seemed to catch Xue Yang off guard too because he caught himself, and the smile slowly fell. It’s like he realized what he’s doing and remembered that this should be about revenge.

Where in the past, Xue Yang hated Xiao Xingchen for his righteousness, he now loves him for his naivety. Without it, Xue Yang knows that Xiao Xingchen would be disgusted with himself. There would be no more laughs, no more games, and no more smiles. Then Xue Yang would lose the one person who didn’t treat him like dirt. So, when Song Lan finds them, Xue Yang immediately perceives it as a threat to their domestic life. He knows how important Song Lan is to Xiao Xingchen, and there’s no doubt in his mind that Xiao Xingchen won’t hesitate to leave with Song Lan when he discovers Xue Yang’s identity.

Furthermore, Xue Yang resents Song Lan for taking Xiao Xingchen’s eyes (even though it was voluntary on Xiao Xingchen’s part and was essentially Xue Yang’s fault). His logic tells him that having Xiao Xingchen kill Song Lan would be the perfect way for Xiao Xingchen to get his revenge. What Xue Yang doesn’t understand is that not everyone thinks about things in the context of revenge. I don’t believe Xiao Xingchen ever truly regretted giving up his sight. But Xue Yang can’t comprehend how someone could be that selfless.

This is where it all falls apart. A-Qing sees what happened to Song Lan, and she runs to Xiao Xingchen and tells him everything. When Xiao Xingchen comes back to confront him, Xue Yang spills it all. There’s nothing left for him to lose. His mask falls again, and he basically bares his soul to Xiao Xingchen. This is probably the first time he’s told the story about his finger, and I think he genuinely thought Xiao Xingchen was going to understand him; that if he knew what Xue Yang went through, he’d sympathize with him and justify his action (thereby justifying his feelings). Instead of that, however, Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, and it flips a switch inside of Xue Yang. How can Xiao Xingchen call him disgusting when he’s killed people too?

I think one of the reasons Xue Yang led Xiao Xingchen to kill those people was to bring Xiao Xingchen down to his level. Xue Yang doesn’t think that anyone can be as good as Xiao Xingchen claimed to be, so he had to taint his perfect record. Maybe if he killed people, Xiao Xingchen would understand him. Xue Yang thought that when Xiao Xingchen found out, he’d stay with him. Now he’s not the same righteous person he used to be, so how could he be good enough to travel the world with Song Lan? No, he should stay with Xue Yang instead and live a happy life together.

So, when Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, Xue Yang was probably confused and upset, which made him instinctively put his mask back up. Being vulnerable only hurt him again, so he’s back to harsh words and smirks, telling Xiao Xingchen that this is why he’s always hated him and that all of this was fun. Fun in every sense of the word: the killing and the happiness.

Xiao Xingchen finding out that he killed Song Lan was the last straw. Xue Yang is still laughing as Xiao Xingchen slits his own throat. It takes a moment for the realization to set in, but as it does, the smile falls from Xue Yang’s lips, and his hands begin to shake. This is the third time his mask has fallen. His eyes begin to well with tears, but he tries to keep up his act, saying that dead ones are easier to control, but the only one he’s acting for is himself.

The next scene is the one that really solidified Xue Yang’s feelings for me. He cleans the blood from Xiao Xingchen’s skin with the same care that Xiao Xingchen had shown him when he first found Xue Yang in that ditch. Xue Yang clearly thinks that Xiao Xingchen is going to come back and that the ritual will work, that he staves off his tears and sets out food for both of them. He considers eating his candy but then decides he should wait until Xiao Xingchen comes back. If he’s back, then Xue Yang is sure to get another piece.

When he realizes that the ritual isn’t working and Xiao Xingchen isn’t coming back, he breaks down. The tantrum he throws is so full of rage and anguish that it really shows the depth of his feelings for Xiao Xingchen. Again, he goes back to acting, trying to guilt Xiao Xingchen’s dead body into coming back to life by telling him all the terrible things he’ll do to Song Lan and A-Qing if he doesn’t reawaken. Obviously, Xiao Xingchen can’t hear him, and Xue Yang knows this, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He finally dissolves into tears, screaming and crying over Xiao Xingchen’s corpse. This may have been the first time he’s cried since he lost his finger. Crying is for innocent, naïve children, and it doesn’t help anybody. But now Xue Yang has had a taste of pure sweetness and doesn’t want to go back to the bitter life he has known, so he finally lets himself weep for all the things he could have had.

Xue Yang spent the next seven years trying to bring Xiao Xingchen back to life with no success. We don’t know much about his activities after Yi City, but we have gotten information through rumors that Shuanghua was being used to kill innocents. It seems like Xue Yang wanted to keep a part of Xiao Xingchen with him. He even continued his sick revenge plot after Xiao Xingchen’s death by gouging out the eyes of and killing the remains of the Chang Clan, including their leader, Chang Ping, by lingchi. Xue Yang doesn’t blame himself in the slightest; he just thinks that Xiao Xingchen’s death was an unfortunate consequence of the situation. He will put the blame on anyone and everyone other than himself. Thus, instead of performing lingchi on himself like Wei Wuxian suggested, he takes out his anger on the remains of the Chang Clan.

Everything Xue Yang does in the present is tied to Xiao Xingchen, yet he still can’t bring him back. So, when he heard that the Yiling Patriarch had suddenly come back to life, Xue Yang knew it was his last chance. The sword ghost/ghost arm is what led Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to Yi City. It was pointing to its murderer. I’m sure Xue Yang could have avoided a confrontation if he wanted, but this was intentional. As for the juniors, I have a feeling that Xue Yang was behind the cat corpses that led them to meet up with Wei Wuxian. This is still unclear though because Xue Yang doesn’t have a real reason to get them involved. The only person he needs is Wei Wuxian.

Xue Yang has tried everything at this point. So, when Wei Wuxian finds him in Yi City, pretending to be Xiao Xingchen, he is completely desperate. I do wonder if that is something he has done more than once. Did he often go around dressed as Xiao Xingchen? Was he playing with the life they had in Yi City? Pretending he was still there? Or was it a one-time thing to trick Wei Wuxian into dropping his guard? I also wonder how often he used his own sword because only after Lan Zhan took Shuanghua from him did he pull out Jiangzai. That could be because he was acting as Xiao Xingchen, but we can’t be sure. However, that isn’t the point. Right now, Wei Wuxian was Xue Yang’s only option because the Yiling Patriarch surely knew things he didn’t. Xue Yang had lived with Xiao Xingchen’s corpse for those seven years, keeping him in pristine condition. I’m pretty sure the only way Xue Yang could have done this was by giving him spiritual energy every day, which would be incredibly draining. I don’t think Xue Yang had an exceptionally strong golden core to begin with either. He is primarily a demonic cultivator, which means he doesn’t use his golden core often. It must have taken most of his strength to keep Xiao Xingchen’s body in such good condition. But anything for daozhang, right? Xue Yang needed Xiao Xingchen’s body to be perfect when he returned. He also put aside his pride and used Song Lan for protection all those years. He kept the one person he continued to hate with a burning passion around him for so long.

When Wei Wuxian tells Xue Yang he can’t bring Xiao Xingchen back to life because his soul is too broken, Xue Yang refuses to believe it. It’s been seven years already; he can’t give up now. Deep down, I believe Xue Yang knows Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t want anything to do with him even if he did come back, but he can’t figure out why. Because nothing was his fault, of course.

Something Wei Wuxian said really struck me as I went back to rewatch episode 39. Before the fight, Wei Wuxian turns to Xue Yang and says, “you disgust him to the core, yet you still want to pull him back to play this stupid game.” Xue Yang responds with “I want nothing of the kind.” And he’s being honest. He doesn’t want a stupid game — he wants something real. He wants a life where Xiao Xingchen knows his identity and stays with him in spite of it. He just wants one person to accept him as he is, but that will never, nor could ever, happen —not with all the crimes he has committed.

When Lan Wangji cut off his arm, leaving Xue Yang bleeding on the ground, I think he knew it was over. There was nothing left for him now. He was never getting Xiao Xingchen back. He never had him in the first place, not in any way that counted. So he laughs, blood spilling from his lips, to cover up the tears he wishes he could cry.

He’s ready when Song Lan stabs him, dying with a smile on his face as he gazes at the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen had ever given him. It’s blackened and inedible, yet Xue Yang held on to it for so long; it was a reminder of his daozhang and of why he was fighting so hard. Like his character song said, he was “too determined to let go.”

It’s kind of sad that even in death, he was never respected by anyone other than Xiao Xingchen, and all of that was built on a lie. He didn’t even get a proper burial, although I suppose he kind of deserved it. Xue Yang is the character I pity the most in this series. He isn’t a good person, nowhere near it, and he deserved the end he got, but I wish things could have been different. What hurts is that it just as easily could have been Wei Wuxian. If Xue Yang had been taken in as a child; if he’d had his own Jiang Fengmian, his own Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, he could have been happier. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he would have met Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan and started a sect with them. Realistically, he and Xiao Xingchen would never be lovers because Xiao Xingchen was so strongly connected to Song Lan, but I think they could have been friends.

However, one question I still have is did Xue Yang fall in love with Xiao Xingchen because of how he treated him or because of the person Xiao Xingchen really was? If they had met under different circumstances (and if Xue Yang had had a support system when he was young), would Xue Yang have still fallen in love with him? I guess that’s up to the viewer to decide.

Ultimately, Xue Yang is still a sociopath who can’t understand empathy or feel remorse, so I don’t think he regretted any of his crimes. However, I do believe that Xue Yang regretted the consequences of his actions in Yi City. He didn’t want Xiao Xingchen to die, but his actions were what caused his death. It’s more of a dissatisfaction with where things ended up than feeling guilty for his death. Although I don’t think Xue Yang felt remorseful, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t grieving, nor does it mean his feelings for Xiao Xingchen weren’t as genuine as they could have been.

I don’t know where Xue Yang or Xiao Xingchen will end up now, but I hope they’ll both be happy in their next lives. The same goes for A-Qing and Song Lan (when he finally meets his true end). There are so many things that contributed to Xue Yang’s unstable mind, but I think the moral of the story is that it pays to be kind. If just one person had taken pity on him as a child — had shown him that there was good in the world — I wonder what kind of person he would have become.

I already know how cruel fate is

Not looking, not asking, not grieving, not hating

Waiting to relive my life just for a single person

Ups and downs in life

I would leave no regrets

I tried searching in the darkness of night

When I am trapped in the past

I still hope that a flicker of light will appear in my heart

The legend of this lonely city

Who came here before?

And gifted to me my karma

I am waiting for this karma to liberate spirits, liberate souls, and liberate me

Even though I am already too determined to let go

If I get rid of these inner demons

Would you forgive me?

Gaining freedom from destiny, starting all over again

[matchstickdolly]

Thoughts on Endings and Ethical Creativity

I’ve been thinking a lot about how most of the best stories I’ve watched or read have had a bittersweet ending. I think this is because it is the most likely scenario any of us will repeatedly encounter in life as we end relationships, change careers, move away, bury loved ones, etc. It’s a place where contentment, happiness, and grief can coexist. By extension, it becomes the ending that feels truest.

Whether you personally prefer an ending that might “feel truest” or not isn’t really what I’m on about here. I’m thinking in terms of writing and what resonates widely, while also being creatively responsible.

A happy ending, while nice on occasion and appropriate for some lighthearted genres, often rings false and patronizing if it’s not earned. It doesn’t help that there’s always the chance something will go wrong in our happy characters’ futures that makes it hard not to squint. (Sure, the lovers kiss at the end, but do they survive, I don’t know, parenthood or 2020, or, dear Lord, parenthood in 2020, if they’ve experienced no real hardship?) Sad endings can ring false for a similar reason. Barring death of the primary POV character, there’s always a chance things will turn around, so why end on a depressing note? (Our beloved protagonist is destitute and alone by the story’s ending, but he’s only forty. What are the odds he stays downtrodden indefinitely? Isn’t the story of how he might not rather interesting?)

Overly happy or sad endings that haven’t earned their place through foreshadowing and tone often come out seeming too fanciful/childish, intentionally depressing, or downright incomplete. In my mind, this usually means an ending that shows striving is what will resonate most. Striving for or toward what, exactly, depends on the story. Unless you’re dealing with a character who truly has no reason to work toward or hope for more (e.g., they don’t die, but they have every reason to believe endless misery and/or death is coming soon), ending on a completely sour note seems strange.

And if by the end of a story, a writer finds the only way to impart meaning upon the narrative is to kill off a beloved character unexpectedly, I question the integrity of the story. Death is inevitable and only sometimes predictable, but that’s not a story we need told to us; life teaches us that lesson. The stories we love to tell ourselves tend not to reflect reality, either; they make sense of reality’s chaos, including its unfair death. Often, stories are here to show us death can be faced or even cheated, or that our inability to face its inevitability will be our downfall. Loss is not the interesting part of the story; it is not what imparts meaning. It is how loss is (or is not) faced that makes the story.

Maybe that’s why bittersweet endings work so well. When are we not losing something, even as we are gaining anything else?

On Last-Minute Character Deaths

Related to the above is the question of whether writers owe audiences closure, and I think they do. I’m not one to “cancel” or censor really much of anything, even socially, but as our understanding of mental health and well-being grows, I’ve begun to question the ethics of last-minute tragedies in larger works. It strikes me as privileged and perhaps able-bodied/minded to assume you can knife your audience and their wound will heal without your care to aid them.

As numerous shows have killed off beloved lead characters in or near their series finales in the past few years, I’ve been troubled to think about how many struggling viewers have had to face them, especially this year. We’re surviving tyrants, a pandemic, record unemployment, spikes in domestic abuse, spikes in suicide. It is a dark time.

Does that mean coddling or treacly happiness is what the doctor ordered? No, treacly happiness, unearned, is nearly as frustrating as unearned tragedy, though less likely to cause psychological damage. But I do think it means writers have a duty to tread carefully. Stories matter, and the audience who hears, watches, or reads them matters. By all means, kill a main character, but lay the groundwork for that death and let your audience process the grief with the characters who remain. If this is a main character who’s been around for multiple books or dozens of episodes, realize the grief won’t be processed in a few pages or a single episode.

You can do anything creatively. You can explore any and all dark subject matter. But I think if you close with unexpected pain, you’re not here to write a tragedy, you’re here to be a sadist to people who did not consent to being masochists. Do this to enough people, and you will find your masochists in the crowd, but that doesn’t mean their acceptance of your sadism is more valid than the outcry of those who would never have consented had they been informed.

Endings matter. They’re not to be tacked on as an afterthought or to be used to make a petty point (unless that was the point). Endings are what stay with audiences on their own life journeys. This is a meaningful and potentially powerful connection between creator and audience member that deserves honor and respect.

[mypoisonedvine]

Satisfied | Andy Barber x reader (chapter 3)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) 

series summary: you’re the only lawyer in Boston who can get under Andy Barber’s skin, but you didn’t realise that he was trying to get under your clothes.  as is the nature of law, it’s only a matter of time before the truth is discovered.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: smut, rough sex, safewording, oral (f receiving), angst, non-linear storytelling/flashbacks

a/n: I wrote this series originally with my friend joyce, and after she deactivated some of the chapters were lost.  this series is long-since completed, but I’m reposting now so people can still read!

You stretched a little, eyes still closed to protect them from the blinding sunlight peeking in. Daylight had crept up on you, and it came quickly. You were sure that you had only fallen asleep a mere few minutes before you woke; muscles sore from overexertion. Letting out a groan, you shifted your body once again trying to get comfortable. 

Andy really did a number on your body and you needed a deep stretch to try and regain some control over your aching muscles. You turned and looked at him. Andy was peaceful. His brows were relaxed and his mouth was slightly agape. You hadn’t realized just how badly you missed seeing him like that. So much so that you caught yourself just in time. Your hand had almost reached his cheek before pulling back.

“Stop moving,” Andy mumbled from beside you. When you did not quit the shuffling, he groaned and wrapped his arms around your body, trapping you beneath his weight. 

It caused you to hesitate and freeze for a second. His body heat radiated onto your naked body. His skin against yours. Memories of the night before flooded your mind and it’s then that you realized that the feeling of his body was ingrained in your existence.

“Andy…” you whispered but he ignored you, snuggling back into the sheets instead. It felt almost domestic. And wrong. It felt really wrong. Maybe it was the fact that it reminded you of being young, and in love, again.

In love with Andy.

---

“We should do this again sometime,” Andy beamed as you got up off the bed and pulled your t-shirt back over your head from where it had been tossed onto the floor.  Ah yes, the telltale smile of a man who just got laid.

“Andy, I probably should’ve been more clear,” you admitted.  “I’m not looking for a relationship.  I’m too busy, and I’ve always felt that single women are taken more seriously in law school.”

You expected him to question it, but he nodded.  “Yeah, that is probably true.  Fucked up, but true.”

He hopped up and followed you before you could walk to the bathroom, turning you around with a hand on your shoulder.  “Does that mean that we can’t do this again?”

“Oh, we’re definitely going to do it again,” you grinned, biting your bottom lip.  “Just, not as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

He seemed happy enough with that answer, if not ecstatic. 

“But for now, I need to study, so get out of my room,” you chuckled, watching him redress with a satisfied smirk on your face.

---

Another party, another stupid performative social event, another red plastic cup with god knows what in it that you have no intention of actually drinking.  Or at least you had no intention when you walked in.

Andy was better at this.  People actually cheered when he came into the room— but admittedly he was also holding booze so, they might have been cheering for that.  But they were still happy to see him, and who wouldn’t be?  You were too, but you tried to hide it.  The company line was still that you two didn’t care much for each other, and it was… somewhat true, he still got on your nerves, but you undeniably had a soft spot for him.  Perhaps literally.

You decided you could pull him aside for a chat once, that wouldn’t be too suspicious.  But it couldn’t be right as he walked in, so you were basically just counting the minutes in your head until you could talk to him.  But then you were just trying to not get caught looking at him every 30 seconds.  How was he so… attractive?  Not just hot, but magnetic.  Guys jumped over to laugh with him.  Girls hung off his arm while he told hilarious stories.  And here you were, across the room staring because you didn’t want to be a part of his harem.

Speaking of harem, he seemed to have a new fan tonight, and she was hanging onto his every word.  You’d seen her around before— Jessie something, most likely short for Jessica but at the moment you decided it was short for Jezebel.  She was cute.  Gorgeous, actually.  One of those girls who looked like she just got up in the morning and brushed her hair and was already model-perfect.  You tried not to hate that about her, you tried not to hate her because she was just a beautiful girl talking with this amazing, charismatic guy and you had no reason to be mad at her because she was just— oh my fucking god did she just grab his bicep???  SKANK!

You left the party quickly after that, deciding you didn’t like the person you were becoming.  One of the many, many reasons you’d sworn not to get involved with guys in law school was because you knew how women could get defensive and territorial over men, and you were never going to prioritize getting dick over being a good feminist.  How had you already fallen so far?

You were grateful for the half-empty bottle of Fireball in your cupboard. It was to be your companion to drown out the sorrows. You hoped that it would be enough to make you forget what you saw. Especially the fact that Jezebel and Andy would have made a good couple. They looked good together. Not right. But good nonetheless.

---

“...the defendant clearly has the mental capacity for there to be mens rea. He should be prosecuted and I don’t understand how I am the only person that thinks so,” Andy tugged at his hair in frustration as you walked beside each other down the hall. “I think it’s ridiculous that--”

“Are you fucking that Jessie chick?” you suddenly interjected, trying (and failing) to curb the anger bubbling in your stomach. Andy’s eyebrows shot up and you felt a sense of dissatisfaction at the response. He proceeded to drag you into an empty classroom.

“You have no right to be jealous,” he reminded you firmly.  “We’re not dating.” 

“I know, I know. Who said that I’m jealous?” you frowned, but your voice was a lot higher than usual, “but that doesn’t mean I’m down to catch whatever cooties you get from her.”

“You think I’m gonna sleep with her?” he asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah,” you retorted with a heavy layer of patriotism, “and everyone else thinks so, too.”

He reached out and cupped your face, tilting it up to make sure you were looking at him.  “Just because we’re not together… doesn’t mean I want anybody else.” He looked so sincere and sounded so soft that it took you aback. You had never expected Andy to say that. Ever.

“I… what?”

“Baby,” he sighed, and your heart tensed a little, “you’re the reason I’m not your boyfriend.  I don’t want to date anybody else, I don’t want to be with anybody else… you’re it.  Just you.”

“Oh,” you nodded with wide eyes.

“Are you… seeing other people?  Not that you can’t, I just… I didn’t think you were.”

“No, no,” you dismissed, “I only… no.”

“Then let’s make it official.  You have no reason to be jealous.  Be my girlfriend.”

“But I—”

“We don’t have to tell people,” he quickly backpedaled.  “I know you don’t want to be seen as half of a couple, or an extension of me or something.  But I wanna be able to call you my girlfriend.  Even if I can’t actually tell anybody about it.”

You looked at him, making sure he wasn’t joking or messing around before slowly nodding. His face lit up, “but we have to keep it on the down-low,” you reminded him quickly, to which he nodded.

“That we do. Verity would advocate for our expulsion if she knew.” Your eyes went wide with fear. Andy was right. It had the potential to completely decimate your career.

“Andy, we can’t tell anyone about this,” you whispered sharply, “especially now that we’re on a case together.”

“Calm down, baby,” he soothed. It was the first time he called you that since you became secretly-official and it sounded different now, somehow; it made your stomach flutter a little. “Trust me, I know, and it will be fine. Verity won’t find out.”

“Okay,” you nodded, believing him, “however, you really shouldn’t be calling Dr. Verity Woods, J.D. Esq. by her first name alone.”

“You don’t need to use her full name and title,” Andy laughs, “she said it’s fine to call her by her first name. You were there.”

“That I was. But it doesn’t feel right, especially since she’s leading the case.”

Andy shook his head and smiled. You really were something else but he needed it. He needed you. Even all of the crazy and particular aspects of your personality. “Speaking of her, I need to go to her office in—” Andy looked at his watch— “shit, 10 minutes.”

“Well, go, run,” you gestured at the door and Andy bolted out, not even having the time to peck your lips. You waited a few moments before leaving the room, not wanting to attract any attention.

---

“Hey, cupcake,” he cooed and then kissed your ear. Without having to look at him, you knew that he had a smug grin on his face and enjoyed the teasing.

“You eat one cupcake one time and suddenly it becomes your whole identity,” you groaned with a roll of your eyes. Andy’s body pressed up against yours and you tried to push him off but the warmth of his body was far too comforting.

“But you looked so cute when you got frosting on your nose,” he recalled.  

“Go away,” you giggled and squealed as Andy tickled you, “s-stop it.”

“Come on, cupcake, you can do better than that,” Andy continued to tickle you until you fell on the floor in a giggling heap, “all you have to do is let me call you cupcake.”

“Andy—” you squealed. “Barber, you better stop this right now!” Your stomach hurt from the laughter as his fingers dug into your waist making you scream.

“Come on, cupcake.”

“N-no!”

“Since that’s the case, I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing.” 

“Fine!  Fine,” you relented, “you win.”

---

You looked around the sterile reception as you took a seat on the plush sofa and looked out of the window. The California sun shone into the room illuminating everything in its path. You weren’t running away, you told yourself repeatedly. Maybe you would believe it at some point. It was simply that you needed a change of scenery.

One thing that you were sure of was that you were more than qualified for the job. And that should be enough. But it came at a cost. Your personal life. It had always been on the back-burner for you but you had to accept you had chosen the lonely path. 

Nobody had ever told you just how much you, as a woman, had to sacrifice to be successful. And so you learnt the hard way. Your friends told you that you had made your bed so you had to lie in it. They were not wrong but they did nothing to ease the vacancy in your heart. 

Flicking through one of the magazines on the table, you let it distract you from the ticking clock. It seemed that you were the only person that was there for the job which should have eased your nerves. But you haven’t always been the first choice. 

---

“Am I remembering correctly that you were valedictorian of your class?” the man across from you had your resume in front of him and was still unable to get it right. Maybe the job was not right for you. But it was a better offer than still being in Boston.

“Salutatorian,” you corrected coldly, gaze piercing. You tapped your nails on the table as the interviewer tried to regain his posture. 

“Oh, well,” he shrugged, “that’s still pretty good.”

Pretty good.  You didn’t believe in stuff like that.  There was greatness, and nothing else.  “Well, that’s the past,” you quickly shut off the conversation about your greatest failure and threw the man a tight-lipped smile.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “what makes you think that you will be suitable for the role?”

The fear left your system. You were sure of yourself. You were more than qualified. 

---

“Time to get up for breakfast,” Andy roused you from your sleep. You had no idea when you went back to sleep but it was your turn to groan. “Don’t make me wake you up; you won’t like that.”

“I’m tired. Leave me alone, Barber,” too tired and sore to really care about eating or the punishment. That being said, you were a little hungry after missing dinner.

“I know you’re sore so don’t make me wake you up,” he warned but you still refused to pay him any mind. That was your mistake as Andy ripped the covers from your body; exposing it to the chilly morning air. 

“What are you doing?” 

Andy didn’t respond. Instead, his face went to your core. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he cooed, “I think it’s time for you to wake up.” He licked a stripe across your sex and watched it glimmer in the light. Fisting the blankets beneath you, your back arched involuntarily.

You let out a breathy moan when he parted your folds to allow his tongue better access to your dripping cunt. He licked and explored your body like it was the first time he was given the privilege. 

“Taste so good,” his voice reverberated through your body sensing little shocks of pleasure through you. Andy suckled on your clit making you cry out. His beard scratched the soft skin of your inner thigh and your sensitive folds. The contrast of his soft, wet tongue and his rough beard made your eyes roll back.

“Andy,” you mewled, “please.”

“What do you want?” Andy taunted you. Your body kept moving; your hands tugging at the sheets. You needed him to do more. He was teasing you. “Words, my little fuckdoll.”

You were unable to form any coherent sentences when Andy had such control over your body. He inserted one finger into your aching core, massaging your walls. “You have to use your words or I’ll stop now seeing as you’re awake.”

“No,” you rushed out. “P-please let me come.” You had no dignity left but you were too far gone to care. You needed Andy’s mouth and fingers too badly. 

“Well,” Andy clicked his tongue as his lips curled into a smile, “since you asked so nicely...”

---

Unable to find your clothes fast enough, you found a discarded Harvard sweatshirt of his and slipped it on, smiling to yourself at the bagginess. Looking down at the left sleeve, you realized that it was the same one you wore when you were dating. It made you feel a little nostalgic. The sweatshirt was practically yours.

You emerged from the bedroom to find him in the kitchen with an apron on-- why the fuck did he own an apron?-- and messing around at the stove.  He must have heard you enter because he turned to you with a smile.

“Huevos rancheros!” he announced with a smile, lifting the pan for you to see.

You looked to him, and the pan of eggs, and around his stylish condo worthy of an ADA’s inflated salary, and shivered with the overwhelming sense of ‘wrong’. That was even in spite of your rumbling stomach. “Andy, stop, this is all too much. Too domestic,” you whispered, unable to look at Andy when you said it.

“Don’t say that. Don’t say things like that,” Andy pleaded, “I just want to see you.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said. I want to see you.”

“You’ve seen me before.”

“But I can’t remember the last time that I saw the real you,” Andy’s words made your stomach turn. “I don’t know the last time I saw the you that I fell in love with all those years ago.”

“She doesn’t exist anymore, Andy,” you whispered, “you need to let her go.  God knows I did.”

“No, she’s not. I don’t believe that,” he argued; heart breaking by the second, “she’s still there, I’m certain of that. You wouldn’t end up here so often if she doesn’t exist. And you wouldn’t be so upset about not being valedictorian.”

“We shouldn’t keep doing this, Andy,” you decided with a sigh as you found your purse and attempted to gather your things.  Where the fuck were your clothes again?

“No. You don’t get to say that,” he raised his voice, shedding his apron as he left the kitchen, “you can’t just waltz back into my life and keep... taking. It’s not fair.”

“Taking?  I’m not taking anything, you’re throwing yourself on me!  I don’t know what you want from me, Andy,” you sighed, placing your purse on the sofa.

“The same thing that I’ve always wanted.”

“Maybe it’s not what I want,” you lied through your teeth. “Have you ever thought about that?”

“Then why do you keep coming back?” Andy’s voice cracked. You knew that you were hurting him. And yourself. But there was no other way. 

“Because I love being humiliated, and you are the most embarrassing thing I could possibly be involved with.  Because you already know all my fucked up kinky shit and I’d rather keep the number of people who know that down to a minimum.  Because when I walk home after seeing you I feel fucking sick to my stomach and filthy and stupid and I like it.  Because I love the way that fucking you makes me hate myself.”

“I’m used to you lying to me, but I think now’s a good time for you to stop lying to yourself,” he shouted, the vein in his neck appearing.  You were shocked to realize that you had actually hurt him. Badly.  “Actually, it’s more than overdue. You’ve been doing it for what? Ten years?”

 “Why can’t you just admit to yourself that you want this?” He pointed at the house, and then himself. “That you want me.” His voice was so strained that you felt a little guilty.

“I don’t want you.”

“That’s not the impression I got last night. Or this morning. You were just begging for me.”

Something about arguing with him was so erotic.  Was that a strange thing to think?  It certainly made court a lot more interesting.  And now you found your gaze trailing greedily over his body and as it met his eyes once more, you saw that he knew what you wanted.  That you were falling back into this cycle again.

“If you want me to want you again,” you hissed, “you’re gonna have to make me beg, aren’t you?”

He slammed into you, tossing you down onto the sofa as he slid his own sweatshirt up your body, latching his lips onto your nipple which was embarrassingly already hard.

“You say it like I’ve not been making you beg since you were twenty-two,” he growled, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“I can’t seem to remember that.”

“Well I guess it’s time for me to remind you, then,” he swiped a finger across your (already wet) folds and looked at his slick-coated fingers with pride. He had always loved the way you glistened on his skin.

He pushed your back down until you arched it for him.  “Get that ass up, baby.”  You moaned when he slapped your ass quickly, tugging on your hair to arch your back even further.  “Want me to put this cock in you?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“You can do better than that,��� he tutted disappointedly.

You stopped yourself from responding because you knew you would say more than you should.  He leaned down and pressed his lips right against your ear.

“We both know it, just say it,” he encouraged in a low voice.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.  He slipped his hand around your neck and tightened until your face tingled from the loss of blood.

“Don’t say anything until you’re ready to be honest,” he instructed, finally slipping his cock into you— and even though you couldn’t breathe or moan or speak, you managed to react plenty strongly to the feeling anyways.  You were outrageously sore from a long night of fucking and the pain burned just the right way.

He began to move his hips, each time, the base of his cock would brush against your overstimulated clit. Each thrust hitting that one place that made your body quiver. But then it got a bit too much. The stretch and burn of his cock and the hand around your throat.

“Objection!” you yelped your safeword, and instantly he stilled, slipping his arms around you and holding you close.  Tears started to pour against your will.  “I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “I can’t believe that after all this time you still remembered…”

“Never apologize,” he hushed, kissing your shoulder.  “I went too hard on you. And I could never forget a safeword like that,” he laughed softly.

“No, no, I just… I got a little overwhelmed.  It’s not your fault.”

“Do you want a glass of water?” he asked lightly.  “I’ll help you get dressed…”

“No, stay,” you requested.

“Okay,” he nodded, a little surprised.  “Tell me how to help you.”

“Just hold me,” you shivered, “like you used to.  Back when you liked me.”

He chuckled.  “I like you.  Even now; I always have… especially when you didn’t think that I did.”

“We’ll see if you say that in court tomorrow.”

“Almost certainly will not,” he admitted, eliciting a small smile from you.

He pulled you down to lay on his chest as he relaxed into the sofa.  His fingers delicately ran along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you let your breathing steady back to normal as your eyes fell shut. 

You looked up at him after a while and appreciated the peaceful look on his face.  It wasn’t something you saw on him often, since you were always pissing him off.  Maybe that was why you liked getting on his nerves so much; because when you saw him like this, happy, you remembered feelings you wanted to forget.  But there was also a part of you that just wanted him to feel something about you when he saw you.  The opposite of love is not hate but indifference… and even if you didn’t want him to love you, and knew that he could never love you again, you couldn’t live with indifference. 

You sat up and he looked at you but you said nothing, just leaning down and kissing him again.  He kissed you back, slipping his hand around the back of your neck to hold you close.  His breathing against your face began to speed up a bit as you straddled him with your legs, rubbing your hips along his again.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked softly as you reached down to guide his cock into you one more time. You closed your eyes briefly.

“I’m sure that I’m not okay,” you responded as you moved your hips down and felt him slip inside you, “but I need you right now.”

He nodded and you sat up to plunge yourself down onto his cock, moaning as his length reached deeper into you than normal from this angle.  His hands gripped your hips tightly, not out of any sense of dominance but simply his reaction to the feeling of you as you began to ride him.  You were slow at first, balancing yourself on his chest, but it wasn’t too long until you were bouncing with abandon, moaning his name over and over while he watched you closely.

Your hand fell to his chest and you felt his heartbeat, strong and steady.  You wished you could be so strong as that.  You wished you could be so stable.  

He sat up suddenly, looking at you with a hint of concern.  He must have seen the fear on your face.  He pulled you closer and you still, instead letting him grind deeper into you as he held your face in his hands.

“So beautiful,” he whispered reverently, kissing your collarbone lightly.

“Andy…” you sighed, another tear falling but for an entirely different reason.

“So perfect,” he continued, kisses trailing to your neck.  He wrapped you in his arms and you both moved together in a way that didn’t feel like what you were used to at all.  Your orgasm came and went with only a stuttered gasp but he felt it and praised you all along the way, made some promises he couldn’t keep, said some things you elected to ignore.  

You fell asleep together and stayed that way well into the afternoon, not having gotten the most effective night’s sleep beforehand.  When you woke up to golden light on your face and a snoring Andy Barber, you gave him a quick, tight hug before you got up, finally recovered your clothes, and grabbed the handle of his door.  Something stopped you, though you couldn’t be sure what, and you looked back to watch him on the couch again.  You found yourself setting your purse down and undressing again, trading the wrinkled suit for that stupid Harvard hoodie, and slipping back under his arm on the couch.  You weren’t very tired anymore so you watched him sleep for a bit, running your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp.  You remembered him liking that before, you hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.  It was a familiar feeling, safe feeling, one that you hadn’t felt in so long.  You couldn’t think about what would happen tomorrow, what had happened yesterday.  You just let yourself swim in the comfort of him for a little while longer.

(next chapter)

[acesydneysage]

My thoughts on how an Alchemist revolution could go

I turned some of the initial points into a one-shot, but I'm very unlikely to actually write anything that sees all of it through to the end, so I'm laying out what I imagine would happen. I could follow the initial fic's format and just write cutesy domestic fluff with hints of what is going on in the Alchemist revolution in the background, but who knows

In The Golden Lily, Sonya thought Sydney's blood might be key to a vaccine, since it was undrinkable to Strigoi. Later, in The Fiery Heart, in their visit to Inez, we find out that it's because her blood is coated in human magic. That makes it taste foul to undead vampires, and also broke her Alchemist tattoo, by countering the compulsion of Moroi magic with human magic.

She eventually uses a similar principle to make the tattoo breaking ink she gives to Marcus, and that she uses to help the other re-education inmates in Silver Shadows.

So, with that in mind:

My initial idea was that one of Marcus' operatives, who got tattooed with Sydney's ink, would suffer a Strigoi attack. Their blood would turn out to be undrinkable. Since Sydney's ink breaks the Alchemist tattoo, the receivers blood would get coated with human magic, like a witch's.

I would like it if that person was one of the people Sydney helped in re-education, because I'd like to think those people stayed loyal to her, and maybe see her as a leader. Just because it's really touching to me how she was still worried about others, and risking herself to help, while she was going through her worst nightmare.

In my fic I went with Sydney's roommate Emma, "the Sydney Sage of re-education", because I really love her. She really did turn out to be the Sydney of re-education, at least in part, because while she was repeating the party line and trying to seem cooperative, she was actually a badass rebel who fights back. There are other reasons, I'll get to that in the end.

Sydney's ink potentially working as a Strigoi vaccine is something important enough that she would risk her truce with the Alchemists to investigate. And since the ink also makes people immune to their mind control, the Alchemists wouldn't work with them like they did for the spirit vaccine. I truly believe that they value their control more than human souls.

I'm sure Declan’s blood will be important to the spirit vaccine. They couldn't mass produce it since it required a recent Strigoi restoration, trapping the spirit before it left the blood, while his blood is described as brimming with spirit. But Sydney and Adrian don't want their son to be experimented on, so that's just more incentive to seek an alternative.

I think Sydney’s ink wouldn't work on Moroi, going by the logic of the magic described in the books (human magic wins out in humans), but helping humans is already a big deal, and it could maybe work on dhampirs.

Meanwhile, the Alchemists have been getting polarized. When it's revealed that some of them were helping the Warriors of Light in the end of the series, while Warriors were keeping Moroi captive, that causes controversy. They eventually start to get divided into factions.

After the US re-education center burns down, those who oppose re-education try to defend that it not be rebuilt, and that other centers be shut down. There are symbolic concessions, but they eventually get basically re-education by another name. Similar things happen when it comes to demands for more transparency, and less authoritarianism in general.

And of course there's a reaction to progressive demands. A hardcore anti-Moroi faction is amenable to teaming up with the Warriors. They're tired of "fighting evil by cataloguing it."

If this faction wins out, they won't actually care that Sydney is blackmailing them into letting her live with proof that they worked with the Warriors, since they openly want that, and they consider her continued existence a humiliation. So Sydney and Adrian wouldn't be able to sit out this fight.

There are more and more defectors who simply leave and join Marcus (or go into hiding and try to stay away from that whole mess). But out of those who stay Alchemists, as things start to devolve into an actual civil war, the moderate faction has a lot of infighting about joining up with the rebels.

That's at least in part because Sydney is one of their most notorious members, and while they might not want to see all the Moroi exterminated, marrying one of them is still going way too far to a lot of them.

So, let's talk allies. Sydney definitely put Marcus in touch with more witches and taught them how to make the ink. And I think besides kidnapping Moroi and dhampirs, the Warriors could be capturing witches too, which would turn them against each other.

In re-education, when it's revealed that Sydney has magic they say that has happened before, and I imagine they handled it with the same amount of compassion. I think maybe Chantal is a witch too and that's why she was fown in the punishment level with Sydney.

Alicia definitely showed that some witches might be willing to work with them for their personal gain, but I think as a community they would protect their own. They wouldn't look kindly on Alchemists torturing witches. And even if they were born into the Alchemists, they chose to be witches, so their allegiance to them would take precedence in their minds. Sydney's coven and Ms. Terwilliger are definitely on board.

I think the rebels might be able to get the Keepers on their side, since they have a complicated relationship with the Alchemists, where they seemto deliberately keepthem dependent. Marcus' stated goal for a long time was helping Moroi on their own terms, that's what he did for a long while. He definitely didn't have any plans to topple the Alchemists in the Bloodlines era, he didn't thinkthat was possible. So they occasionally helped them get better technology and resources that the Alchemists don't want them to have, and they promise to help them further in the future. That gets them the Keepers sympathy.

The Moroi government obviously isn't gonna side with the anti-Moroi faction, but I think they'd try to stay out of the conflict and not be dragged into the fighting for as long as possible. But they've come to depend on the Alchemists too much to keep them hidden, and they're now in chaos.

With the Alchemists weakened by a civil war they aren't really doing a great job of keeping up the masquerade, Moroi secrecy gets very precarious.

Now. While Alchemists claim to be very worried about human souls, absolutely no one in the VA universe seems that worried about regular humans' lives. They don't even know about the existence of Strigoi so they could protect themselves. And yes, there are humans who'd work with Strigoi. Strigoi seem to have zero issue finding those humans as is, they simply tell them about vampires themselves when they wanna get servants.

Now there's a vaccine that could help protect humans, and really reduce Strigoi's capacity to feed, but you have to actually apply them to humans. And more and more supernatural events are being sloppily covered up since the Alchemists are otherwise preoccupied.

I'm sure there are some valid reasons for the masquerade, and humans might not behave amazingly towards supernatural creatures, but leaving them completely helpless to this threat isn't very ethical, and certainly not when you have a vaccine that could help them.

And honestly, as cliche as that argument is in discussions of monster hunting, humans could potentially take the Strigoi out, we have some pretty amazing weapons. Or we could be massively incompetent about a problem that we are fully capable of solving. You know...

So the supernatural world gets revealed, and that makes the Alchemists pretty obsolete. Of course, although they have been weakened by the decade(s) of infighting, that doesn't mean they lose all of their resources and connections all at once, but it would be a huge blow their relevance.

They get splintered into a lot of different groups that can still cause trouble, but they're no longer the omnipresent shadow organization they used to be.

And if this whole process took about 15 years, Declan and his buddies would be neatly protagonist aged in time to deal with the huge upheaval and the new mess of problems brought on by the integration of the Moroi and human world. And he'd more capable of thinking about his own relationship to the spirit vaccine and making his own decisions.

So most of this post was written to be understood whether or not you read Silver Stars, but this final bit is more about what could directly follow. When it comes to the fic I was more worried about the characters and their feelings, and excuses for domestic fluff and hurt/confort. So here's the fic on AO3 and on Tumblr.

In the end of The Ruby Circle, there's indication that Zoe Sage and Stanton, with the incentive of Sydney's blackmail, will be trying to reform the Alchemists. I don't really think they're reformable, attempts to extinguish re-education would basically result in rebranding. @sydneysageivashkov has some lesbian!Zoe head that I think are pretty compatible with my headcanons for an Alchemist revolution, and what Zoe would be doing during that initial period.

I think it could take a few more years, 3 or 4, for Sydney to actually have to leave her home and go into hiding. Declan foes actually get a little bit of a normal school experience. I imagine this whole process going very slowly, as the situation gradually deteriorates. And the witches would now claim Sydney as one of their own, making it a bigger problem for the Alchemists to attack her directly, lest they make enemies of the whole magical community.

By the time Sydney has to go into hiding I imagine Zoe is gonna have to leave the Alchemists as well. The other reason why I chose Emma for the first fic, is that she was in re-education in part for her sister's actions, so it shows that the Alchemists wouldn't be above hurting Zoe for Sydney's actions.

Sydney has very important reasons to join the revolution, and in fact she might eventually not have a choice, but she knows that once she officially breaks her truce with the Alchemists her whole family and even her fellow re-education inmates that she got amnesty for.

I imagine Sydney, Adrian, Eddie and Declan could spend a while hiding in a ranch very out of the way that Chantal and Duncan got themselves. Insert Adrian joke about that escape plan where cute blonde girls had to wear cow girl outfits.

Duncan has been shown to be pretty hesitant to risk going against authority, and Chantal is even more psychologically messed up than Sydney and the rest of them. Sydney feels pretty awful about placing them in danger, but they're both very grateful to her for helping them escape. Also Chantal is a really badass witch, although a bit unstable, I'll eventually find something to do with that, revolution wise.

But Sydney and Adrian would eventually leave and get more active roles in the revolution. I would very much like it to be an actual collective movement and not one special girl bringing down the Alchemists by herself, but I think Sydney would have a pretty prominent role after everything she went through.

This is way too long, but I had fun with it, and if you got this far, thank you for reading 😀

[freifraufischer]

An interesting sports/politics observation:  

I’ve been following the dumpster fire at USAG for quite some time now and became deeply interested in following the sport of gymnastics in more than a 4 year fan way around the time that the Larry Nassar scandal broke.  

The post mortem on the US women’s gymnastics team results in Tokyo was honestly starting around Olympic trials in June.  The US women have never traveled much internationally for decades so they compete less than other international gymnasts.  The argument has been that the travel takes away from valuable training time.  What was little became none because of COVID and the bankruptcy filing of USAG to deal with the lawsuits arising from the abuse scandal.  

It was known that the US women were also being domestically over scored by judges at home.  Domestic overscoring is not unique to the US but most countries that have it also complete internationally so their athletes have a real sense of how international judges will evaluate their routines.  There have been alarm bells for at least three years that the US women were not going to get credit for elements and face deductions in international competition that they weren’t facing at home.  Just this year one of them was literally used in a pictorial example of a international judging document for something that should be deducted--the fact that current athletes are used this way is a whole other horrible kettle of fish.  I should add that the discovery that routines that were being scored highly in the US would fail at the olympics isn’t even new.  Famously the reigning world champion missed out on the all around final at the 2012 games because she wasn’t given credit for connections and series that were overlooked at home.

Now the job of bringing domestic meet scoring into line is on the national team staff and the job of advising and strategizing is that of the “High Performance Director” for the women’s program.  This is the job that was held (under the title National Team Coordinator) by Martha Karolyi with an iron fist before 2016.  She was replaced (after fits and starts) by a man named Tom Forrester.  Forrester’s defining qualities for the job have been that he is nice.  Literally the bar was that low.  He has demonstrated a rather alarming lack of knowledge about what international judges deduct for (after Junior World Championships he expressed surprise that they deducted for dance elements--something that happened again in Tokyo to US gymnasts), did not understand the Olympic selection criteria for individuals, and appeared to have a very very faulty understanding of the rights of athletes with an ongoing abuse complaint (more on that later).

He was relatively removed from the culture of high level elite coaching for the last few decades and the athletes considered him nice.  The last time he had been deeply involved in senior US gymnastics politics was the mid 1990s when several of his gymnasts were passed over for the 1996 Olympic Team because injured athletes were petitioned on to the team over those that competed at trials.  Mind you this was a time when the Olympic team had 7 members and the people petitioned on were the 1992 Olympic Silver Medalist Shannon Miller and 1995 National Champion Dominique Moceanu.  It would have been literally insane not to have them on the Olympic team.  But it has become apparent that Tom Forrester felt a great injustice was done to his athletes and the the worst part of US gymnastics team management was that Martha Karolyi picked favorites.  

This year he denied the petition of a former world champion to Olympic trials (she likely wouldn’t have made the team but her exclusion is... questionable) and after the fact justified it by saying she had failed to meet a criteria for the petition that he never told her existed.  At trials the team was chosen (by a committee that he had essentially full control over) took the top all around finishers in order of how they did at trials (as he would have liked them to have done in 1996).  This was in willful defiance that the format of the olympics now demands not all arounders but strategic use of team building for the best score possible.  The US did not bring the highest potential scoring team to the olympics because of one man’s wounded pride from 25 years ago.

And before you might be tempted to tell yourself he did this because he wanted to support the athletes let me tell you about the fact that he allowed a coach that was under investigation for abuse to come to a camp where one of the athletes that had filed the complaint against her was also in attendance.  His wife, who has a history of unhinged social media rants, claimed he didn’t have the authority to send home an athletes chosen coach.  In reality Louie Hernandez had the legal right not to have to be there with her.  That coach would later be banned for longer than anyone else has ever been banned in USAG history.

So in June anyone following the details of this knew that Tom’s strategy was entirely “we have Simone and so we will win.”  Because that kind of pressure and stress couldn’t possibly have any terrible consequences on an athlete.  Spoiler:  It did.  

People within the sport were warning about this before Simone Biles lost herself in the air during that vault in Tokyo.  The fact that we were all lucky not to watch one of the greatest athletes of a generation break her neck can not be overstated.  It was so scary that one of the most famously bitter angry and terrible human beings of Gymnastics that has been saying awful things about Biles for years kept telling Russian media that she made the right decision to pull out.  That was pigs flying territory.

Forrester left the athletes to face the press alone after the final.

So with that backdrop I want to give this observation:  Dominque Moceanu, an olympic gold medalist who has an abuse story so horrific with villains so cartonishly evil that if it was written as fiction the author would be told it was over the top, wrote a book about the culture of abuse in in the sport and USAG in 2008.  She was called insane, living on another planet, and apparently sent hundreds of emails by those within the sport that she was ungrateful for what her abusers had done for her (emails that she has apparently kept and I’m telling you I’d love to read more then the few I’ve seen).  Moceanu was a figure out of greek legend, Cassandra doomed to tell the truth and be called mad (and attention seeking).  In light of the fall of the Karolyis and the Nassar scandal Moceanu has become a more respected figure as someone that has been speaking out about abuse for a long time.  She has also been someone that other victims went to over the decades to talk to before they could come forward.  A weight that no one should have to bear.  

I had been joking that the only way people would start to trust USAG was honestly trying to reform was if they put someone like Moceanu in charge (Aly Raisman’s name is floated but even she points out that she’s not qualified).  Moceanu is.  But the old guard of the sport have spent two decades telling people that Moceanu is crazy.  I didn’t think she’d take the job and I didn’t think USAG would ever hire her.

But here is the interesting thing .... her social media presence radically changed character in the last three months.  Starting around the time of US Nationals and continuing though trials and the olympics between posts supporting team USA athletes and raising a voice to support Simone Biles and the need for a cultural change in the sport were digs at Tom Forrester and about the need for transparency in that job.  

And this:  “Would someone be kind enough to notify me if the U.S. women’s high performance coordinator position opens up? Asking for a friend.”  (x)  At the same time (literally the same day as one of those tweets) she launched a youtube channel that is essentially a political fluff piece about her as a change agent in gymnastics coaching.

She’s auditioning for that job.

There are a bunch of other interesting elements of her online behavior and some other telling notes about things she’s said ... but it’s interesting to notice something like that unfold.

[sweetbitterimpossiblecreature]

Feysand: An Objective Perspective

Is Rhysand An Abuser?

First, if we mean to be objective, we must use an objective classification. What is domestic abuse? According to facs.nsw.gov.au, “It’s when there is violent, abusive or bullying behaviour or actions towards a partner or former partner to scare and control them. It can happen at home or outside the home. It causes fear and harm to the body, mind and spirit.”

The Domestic Abuse Hotline also has this to say: “Domestic violence (also referred to as intimate partner violence (IPV), dating abuse, or relationship abuse) is a pattern of behaviors used by one partner to maintain power and control over another partner in an intimate relationship.”

Hopefully, we can agree on those two definitions. Now, does Rhysand demonstrate “violent, abusive or bullying behaviour”? Do his actions fall into “a pattern of behaviors used by one partner to maintain power and control”?

The simple answer: it’s complicated. Because of the way Sarah J. Maas has written this series, Rhysand is The Ultimate Man Male. He can essentially do no wrong. Any bad behavior is swept under the guise of his “mask”- i.e., the scene in the Court of Nightmares. Or, if he hurts her, it is brushed off as for her own good- like the time Under The Mountain. This makes it difficult to figure out whether or not he is an abuser, or whether he’s just… like that. In order to understand this, I’m going to give a few examples of things that Tamlin, the known abuser of the series, has done to Feyre.

He infringed on her autonomy by preventing her from leaving the house, thereby limiting her rights.

He lost his temper and exploded a room with her inside of it, thereby putting her in danger.

Let’s look at examples of Rhysand, and what I believe to be some MAJOR red flags.

He purposefully does not tell her about vital information to do with her pregnancy. She almost dies because of this. This omission of information, to me, demonstrated a very clear lack of respect. Maybe, if she had known that there was a possibility she could die, she would have chosen to have an abortion- or, if he had told her beforehand, when she gave him her xmas present, she might not have chosen to have a baby at all. I don’t want to make this a pro-choice issue… but at some level, it is.

He sends her to the home of a cannibalistic, highly dangerous, ancient, powerful, vicious being to get a piece of jewelry, thereby putting her in a massive amount of danger. I cannot emphasize this enough. Putting someone in a situation where they could be eaten alive does not demonstrate your respect for them. I know Maas was trying to write him as a Sexy Consent King, like “hey babe i respect u SO much i’m going to send you to a monster’s lair because I TRUST YOUR aBILITIES BABE”, but… no. No.

Under The Mountain, he drugs her and puts her on his lap, thereby limiting her rights. Not even going to bother to elaborate. Y’all know this by heart.

In conclusion: It isn’t black and white. I believe he positions himself as the king of consent and giving her choices while maneuvering it so that she has less and less choices as they go along (i.e. him not telling her about the crucial pregnancy info), which definitely qualifies as abusive behavior. But someone else might see it differently. From my perspective, it is abuse. But because I swore this was going to be objective, I’m going to say my final answer is: think about it.

On The Issue Of Rhysand And “Consent”

Again, for the people in the back: Putting someone in a situation where they could be eaten alive does not demonstrate your respect for them. Here’s a post that talks about consent much better than I could. In her words, “idolizing consent over lives” is dangerous, harmful, and very real. Do NOT blindly regurgitate every *woke* maxim on consent that you read! Let’s not, as a society, get to a point where it’s like: “Do I have your consent to pour this drink over your head because you said something beyond offensive about my ethnicity?” or “Do I have your consent to take away your car keys so you won’t drive drunk and possible harm others/yourself?” Trust your gut.

How does this relate to Rhysand? Well, first of all, he undeniably puts her in danger. This is justified by the contrast between him and Tamlin. Maas essentially is telling us that Tamlin limits her by keeping her out of danger, and Rhysand empowers her by giving her access to danger. And it’s very easy to get caught in the undertow of this strange logic. Believe me, it is. When I first read the ACOTAR series, I was jiving along with all of your Fuck Tamlin Let Him Die playlists. But here’s a radical idea: imperilment is not a love language. I am not saying that Tamlin was a better option. I am saying that it is possible to respect someone and their right to their own decisions without putting them in danger.

On Making Her High Lady

While it’s fucked up that before Feyre, there were no High Ladies, Feyre incontrovertibly should not be High Lady. Why? Because in fae terms, she is an infant. She learned to read a few years ago. (I am not ridiculing her for her illiteracy, because I understand that the circumstances in which she grew up did not allow for a literate education. That is completely understandable! However, what is not understandable is putting this woman into a position of staggering political power. Learning to read a few years ago means that her comprehension rate is likely a lot lower than the average Velaris citizen. It is… not good for the ruler of a territory to be less capable than the average citizen. This would be like if the president didn’t have a high school diploma.). She has no knowledge of the political landscape. She does not understand etiquette (i.e. her physically attacking someone because of an insult, although to be 100% fair, Rhysand did the same.)

Hey, Feyre! Someone slut-shaming your mate for sleeping with Fae Hitler is not grounds for murder! In ordinary life, it would be grounds for slapping him in the face or something similar, but YOU ARE TRYING TO HAVE A CRISIS COMMITTEE BETWEEN TERRITORIES, WHICH HAS THE POTENTIAL TO SAVE THOUSANDS OF LIVES. An inability to sacrifice one’s ego, even at the potential loss of life, is a worrying characteristic in a ruler.

In Conclusion:

Feyre is not unproblematic when one looks at her decisions as a whole. While the narrative positions events so that they all turn out in her favor, as one would expect given that authors not only write character but plots, in a real-life situation - or just a more realistic plot - her actions would harm many, many people. Rhysand’s behavior towards Feyre is worrying as well, and objectively I think it’s fair to say qualify as signs, if not absolute empirical evidence of abuse.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Love Languages, as defined by this article and as seen in Ultimate Note’s Iron Triangle

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Words of Affirmation:

“In simple terms, the words of affirmation love language is about expressing affection through spoken words, praise, or appreciation. When this is someone's primary love language, they enjoy kind words and encouragement.”

Words are generally not so much Zhang “I told you with my eyes” Qiling’s thing, unless we count that great moment during the sword gifting scene—which we will discuss further under gifts—when he shuts down any fear Wu Xie has that they could potentially destroy each other with a simple and vehement “No.” His love is shown, not spoken, but I imagine that if Xiao Ge were more vocal, the “no” would be spelled out as “Even if I know almost nothing of my past and don’t even really know myself, I know this much: you are safe with me, and I am safe with you.”

Wu Xie is, as Hei Yangjing notes in another series, honey-tongued; kiddo is good with words and enjoys complimenting and verbally supporting people. This is a very earnest Wu Xie, he means what he says when he makes promises and checks in on his friends. He charms people easily in part because he is willing to express himself openly.

Pangzi is the biggest talker of the three, and interestingly the best at talking a lot to say nothing, getting his friends out of trouble. He manipulates words to suit a situation, complimenting someone easily even if it’s clear to the audience that he can’t stand them. His real words of affirmation are affectionate even when angry—I wrote earlier somewhere that “Tianzhen” is as much a curse as a pet name—and during any matchup of the awesome Pangzi and Xiao Ge, it’s Pangzi who does the talking for them.

Quality Time:

“Love and affection are expressed through this love language when someone gives someone else their undivided attention…People with this love language are looking for quality over quantity. So, when you get together, they feel loved if you are present and focused on them.”

One of my favorite things I found in watching/rewatching some of the series was how Pangzi brings out Xiao Ge’s playful side. I think he really starts to loosen up because these are safe people who are good to him plus already mess around with each other and he loves hearing their laughter.

Some of the best moments between Pangzi and Wu Xie are when they have fun together—my introduction to any Lost Tomb series was the first episode of Sound of the Providence (so boy oh boy was I fucking lost and confused) but those two are what hooked me. The banter, the lightsaber duel, the domesticity. They are quality time personified.

Xiao Ge and Wu Xie *clenches fist* don’t get as much time together as they should, but when Xiao Ge is there he is THERE. If you look up “undivided attention” in the dictionary there will be a picture of a solemn Xiao Ge who is only looking at the camera because Wu Xie is the one taking the picture.

Physical Touch:

“A person with this love language feels loved through physical affection. Aside from sex, those who have physical touch as their primary love language feel loved when their partner shows physical affection in some way like holding their hand, touching their arm, or giving them a massage at the end of the day.”

I have a headcanon that the first time the squad is reunited in Wushanju after the jade meteorite and hospitalization, the amnesiac Xiao Ge only recognizes Wu Xie because Wu Xie gently cups his face in his hands while questioning him.

Also, as others have pointed out, how many people other than Pangzi and Wu Xie are able to get close to/generally manhandle Xiao Ge? There is a great post I cannot currently find (please link if you know what I’m talking about!) about Xiao Ge letting Wu Xie move him during their argument by the van, but there’s also that sweet post-tomb let’s-get-the-fuck-out-of-here situation where the trio could not be sitting any closer, wounded Xiao Ge is basically in Wu Xie’s lap and later tucked in against Pangzi.

(Also there’s that hilarious scene of #pingxiepriorities where Xiao Ge is like “alright I’m here to rescue my soulma—uh, my tomb raiding bestie—and I guess since Xiao Hua is also lying here all pathetic and pink he can come too, but this ain’t about him so Wu Xie will be carefully draped over my back and Xiao Hua will be lucky not to get sand in the wrong places”)

Pangzi is all about the cuddles with Wu Xie; I also have a headcanon (and I haven’t read the books, I swear I’ll get there) that Pangzi’s physical affection towards Wu Xie, which seems to come incredibly easy, is really much harder earned than Wu Xie ever knew. I don’t know much about Pangzi’s past, but given their line of work there’s a lot of what my grandmother would refer to as “rough characters” in the biz. It’s all well and good to act friendly and affectionate for a mark, but to truly give/take authentic affection would mean letting down your guard.

Acts of Service:

“When someone's primary love language is acts of service, they feel loved and appreciated when people do nice things for them.”

For Wu Xie, Pangzi basically keeps him alive in ordinary day-to-day scenarios and Xiao Ge rescues him during their uh work trips.

Wu Xie takes Acts of Service to an extreme—like, “I’m going to serve you by spending the next ten years of my life making your life easier and safeguarding your future xoxo”

If we consider Acts of Service to mean exactly the definition, then as with undivided attention, Xiao Ge wrote the book on the subject (a very short book, few words but thoughtful). Entire fanvids have been constructed (yes I lost a day to this) around the number of times he has rescued Wu Xie (*cough* plus the Bronze Gate).

Xiao Ge also rescues Pangzi now and again; easy to forget there, mainly because between him and Wu Xie, Pangzi is definitely the better fighter and doesn’t seem to awaken as many corpses to be rescued from (side eyes Wu Xie) but he gets the Xiao Ge Protection Package and he even seems to agree that Wu Xie needs the deluxe deal. Xiao Ge’s devotion to his friends is so well-known, Ning literally weaponizes it to ensure her survival (*winces* for the time being) by sticking with Wu Xie, as the superhuman cavalry will only be coming for him.

Receiving Gifts:

“To a person whose love language is receiving gifts, gift-giving is symbolic of love and affection in their mind. They treasure not only the gift itself but also the time and effort the gift giver put into it.”

Pangzi is willing to basically go bankrupt to help fund Wu Xie in LT2 (you just know that if Wang Meng started a GoFundMe for “pls help Wu Xie he’s a mess and I haven’t been paid since october 2008” that fund would break the website).

Now, although Xiao Ge definitely has the vibe of a cat that would bring decapitated mice to the door of Wushanju for Wu Xie to be proud of and for Pangzi to step on by accident (see: playfulness), Wu Xie is the big gift giver in this group, I think. The sword scene, aka how to propose to warriorbae with a love token that he will 💯 always keep on his person. It’s a utility gift—it’s useful—but it’s also a statement. This is Xiao Ge’s defense system and trademark (I suspect he’s purchased some super nice hoodies too) that Wu Xie is providing here, and engraving it with something personal between them? Beautiful.

And I just spent another morning reveling in this world’s meta. Time well spent.

[rpbetter]

"writes dubcon therefore is a freak who should be bullied off the site" ho boy i'm fed up with people acting as if consenting adults writing [insert "problematic" fictional thing here] is the worst thing in the world. seen way too many people justifying harrassment of REAL PEOPLE by "they write thing that triggers me". ok, and? mute the tags or don't follow! "it triggers someone" is not a valid reason to ban a topic. piano music triggers me yet i don't go around demanding everyone stop playing the piano.

Anon, not only is everything you said absolutely valid, but also, thank you for demonstrating that triggers are incredibly varied and as such, we cannot predict everyone's triggers. Making the entire "point" of banning for possible triggers invalidated as hell.

We should be aware of things like the most commonly occurring phobias (things like arachnophobia and coulrophobia that are, additionally, easily triggered by imagery) and tag them. We should be aware of very obvious triggers, that are, again, easily set off by imagery, like blood, eye trauma, and depictions of domestic violence. And we should always read and be aware of our writing partners' stated triggers so that we can tag them appropriately or even decide that it isn't going to work because our muse, canon story, or interests are going to present an unfair situation in this partnership.

But triggers can be highly unusual, as well as activated differently (even at different times) for everyone. I'm not triggered by seeing hotel rooms in pictures or movies, I'm not triggered by writing scenes that take place in them, but I'm triggered to some degree by being in one. It's outrageous oversimplification to act like all triggers are the same, they all display the same way, they're all going to trigger someone on the same basis, everyone's going to react the same to their triggers. There is absolutely no way to prevent 100% of possible triggers for 100% of the population, 100% of the time.

Add to this that way too many people trivialize triggers by throwing around that term to justify the banning of something that makes them uncomfortable or that they take a personal, moral issue with. "I don't like this" and "I'm grossed out by this" and "this makes me feel uncomfortable" is not being triggered. It's just a good way to weaponize the better nature of other people so that they comply.

Most people legitimately do not want to trigger someone, especially if they have triggers and know what it's like. Just like no one wants to be accused of cruelty towards trauma survivors in general, or be designated a pedo, rape apologist, or fascist. They're all things to weaponize in order to isolate, shame, and control. And that's really fucking gross. These are serious, real things that have no business being trivialized to police content, win internet arguments, or garner popularity.

The potential for someone to be triggered isn't a reason to ban anything; we have tags, we have blacklist.

While I'll be the first to say that tumblr's blacklisting can be as shitty as everything else on the site, the primary issue with running into content you don't want to see comes down to two factors: no one tagging/tagging correctly and actively exposing yourself to that content. Going through people's properly done tags and blog warnings about their content in order to "call it out" is actively exposing yourself by choice. You actual walnuts.

Calling people on on their "problematic" content is bringing those topics to the attention of other people. That's the whole point of this gross behavior: look at the freak pedo abuse apologist I found, they write dubcon!! Don't look if you'll be triggered uwu

Buddy, pal, my guy...you just put that on blast for anyone to run across. Maybe their blacklist catches those words in your callout post, maybe it doesn't. Maybe they think you're a safe space because you promote yourself that way, so they click it anyway. Point is, you just willfully and irresponsibly exposed people because it's more important to you to demonize a rando on tumblr RPing something you take issue with. Good job!

Furthermore, dubcon itself is such a hilarious issue to take. Do they realize that isn't always sexual, or? Not? I'm thinking not. Funnily enough, one of the oldest posts I've been working on for this blog is about exactly this topic, the myriad situations that are dubious consent. That doesn't have to be sexual, and neither does it have to be intentionally predatory. You can come up with some amazing character development with a lot of muses in the RPC with dubcon because almost everyone's muse has some manner of trauma that might negate their perception of their own consent...and what do you do then? Is it removing more agency from that muse to shut them down, or is that always the better option? Can you separate your opinion as the mun from your muse's natural reactions? How does this impact the muses involved not just that moment but the next year?

Point is, dubcon isn't always some rapey situation. Even if it was, even if someone is writing it that way, it's literally not your business or your problem.

There's one mutual-in-law on my RP blog that really bothers me. They write things that I find fetishizing, incredibly rapey, all around shit that bothers me. I don't want to see it, some of the things they write makes my damn skin crawl. This person doesn't know it, we certainly don't speak and I don't think they like me very much, but I've repeatedly defended their right, specifically their right as a person with some long-term callouts on them, to write what they want to. I have them blocked and their urls blacklisted so I never have to see my mutual reblogging their threads. It's not a problem because I don't click "show anyway." Why would I, if it genuinely bothers me so much?

That's how you handle things that bother you; you use the tools available to not interact even by accident. Not by launching a morality crusade.

If any of us want to write what we enjoy, we have to allow others that same freedom. It's always a matter of time before this policing grows to include more and more topics, it's been used multiple times to get well-meaning people who don't fall into the general demographics to police queer, BIPOC, and other marginalized groups off of platforms. We've been fortunate in most of the RPC that it implodes on itself before it gets all the way there, but even so, you can see it.

It starts with things that produce a visceral reaction in the great majority of people, positions this with a repeatedly condemned idea presented as solid fact that fiction is reality, and you've got the start of something awful. Today it's something you don't like, maybe even something that triggers you, so you either support it or you quietly allow it to happen. Who needs to write that "freak shit" anyway, can't they just be gross privately? Six months from now, it's something "problematic" that you enjoy like violence that's canon-typical for your muse, or your OTP because they're gay and that's fetishizing, they're cis male and female but one or both is bi and that's bad representation, or they canonically have a rocky relationship so that's romanticizing toxic/abusive relationships.

If you can't care for any other reason, you really should care about how it is going to impact you sooner or later. In an environment like this, you can stay in your space, put warnings on your blog, and tag properly and you're still going to get a callout if the wrong person finds your blog. Just takes a single person with more time, energy, and skewed ideas of justice than they have reading comprehension or common sense.

Again, I cannot encourage people enough to give warnings, but it's difficult to ignore why those warnings are slipping; they're a way to be found, designated as a Problem, and called out. Look, it's another reason why callouts actually make things worse, not better! People put that shit in their rules so you can avoid content, they're being responsible and interested in promoting a safe RPC. Let them do it, damn.

You can't tag everything, and if you've never experienced what a giant series of repetitive tags is like on a screenreader you probably should before you tag seven paragraphs of possible issues. You can tag for visuals, you can tag for the obvious things, and you can tag for what's in the rules you agreed to when you followed/followed back. But you should also warn people that you write "dark topics" on the tin, and expand on that in your rules for specific things like graphic violence, toxic relationships, dubon, and addiction.

That's how responsible adults, not over-aged children, make better decisions about their mental health and general comfort. Not by appointing themselves the watchdogs of the damn RPC, here to protect you whether you want to be or not, find that incredibly insulting or not when you're in one of their categories of people who must be protected, by forcibly banning Problematic Everything. Problematic, of course, being entirely in the eye of the content police.

It's fiction. No one and nothing real was harmed. It's great that you are so invested in the fictional world and people that make you happy, but take a fucking big step back into reality. The real people you're harming with your bullshit had every right to peaceably exist. If what they're writing is triggering to you, stay. away. from. it.

Without any coincidence whatsoever, that's how you get from the base-point of Problematic Material to Problematic Mun. Yeah, it's just fiction, it's just RP, but I also took something out of context OOC or was upset by their tone on their own blog or couldn't exercise the minimal adult logic to remove myself from their presence OOC as well. So, now, you've got OOC behavior being added to the callout, if it wasn't already. Everyone is now ableist, transphobic, racist, and a misogynist because it lends that visceral reaction to the callout and ups the game from just being "y'all so gross you aged up a cartoon character to ship" to "this is REAL and it won't be tolerated! OP is actually a pedophile, they told a sexual joke in a discord server with a minor present and I have the receipts!"

What are the most storied callouts in the entire RPC? I'm absolutely certain the same names came to mind no matter what fandoms you're in, and one of them was "Matt." Another was probably "Ares/Snow". They're all successful and keep being brought up out of the closet anytime people are bored enough because their primary punch is the mun themselves being a predatory threat to the community. The mun is verified to be a bad person. Well, of course, that's got to be repeated, it worked. (Even if it did not, at all, work and only made it harder for people to avoid any of these muns.)

Are there people in the RPC who are legitimately a problem? Absolutely, yes. We're all supposed to be adults, however. Part of being an adult is having and acting upon one's agency. If someone is coercing you into things you are not comfortable with, shut it down. If you have difficulties being certain of those situations, run it by a trusted, honest friend or available, impartial source in the RPC for a second opinion. If you can't handle any manner of confrontation, there really are situations in which it's perfectly alright to block someone without any discussion. It's just the internet, you're in control of your space. Own it.

Minors are a whole other can of fucked up worms I'm not even getting into right now except to say that because a minor exists in a space they were told to stay out of does not mean we ban all topics inappropriate for their consumption.

tl;dr: banning shit doesn't work anyway, the whole idea is predicated upon some incredibly problematic takes IRL, and no, there's no justification for it outside of intense personal problems with one's own importance. That energy would be infinitely better spent volunteering one's time to help real people in crisis or after surviving one, or even oneself in developing some healthier approaches and thought patterns.

[prinxlyart]

God bless ya for providing your perfect takes on Willumity! If anyone hasn't beaten me to it, I would like to ask your headcanon on how their relationship would start, and how do you think thwir children would be! Oh, and on another ship, how you think Boschlow would unfold?

My heart is too full for this, I need to dump it all out into this post

Hmmm, their relationship could start any number of ways. I don’t have a favorite that I can pull from my imagination. My sad angsty polyamorous heart wants there to be a lot of sad tension between all of them (Willow is upset because she can clearly see that Luz and Amity like each other, why would either of them pay attention to her?? // Amity is upset because Luz was able to befriend Willow so easily and so quickly and they were immediately affectionate with one another on the first day they met. They deserve to be happy together without Amity ruining it or having her overbearing last name hanging over them. // Luz is upset because she’s helped Willow and Amity rekindle their broken friendship and watched it blossom into potentially something more?? She’s so scared she’s going to be left behind again. She’s had friends in the past that ditched her once they became closer to one another. Luz is downright terrified that it’s going to happen again. ) [projecting?????? Whose projecting I’m not projecting]

I feel like if anything, the dam would break what with all these unresolved romantic feelings bearing down on them all. I don’t know who would break first, but whoever she broke in front of would let her know she needs to speak to the other two about it ASAP. Because if worse comes to worst, they’ll gently reject you and insist you all remain friends. None of them would break off their friendships with one another due to unreciprocated feelings.

Once they do sit down and confess their feelings for one another they all just. Start crying in utter relief. They don’t have to lose anyone, and even better, they like me back.

RE: Kids? I have no idea. I’ve never been one for fan kids much, I usually leave that to others and appreciate it when someone makes one I actually like. I think the only thoughts I’d have on them having kids would be that these three would be the Most Supportive Parents in the world with an even more supportive network of grandparents. Like. Any kids they have will be adored so much they might accidentally smother the poor thing(s).

I feel like Luz and Willow would insist they have more than one kid (if they do decide to have kids). Neither of them have siblings and grew up rather lonely as a result. They don’t want that for any kids they might raise. Amity is only a little reluctant to agree because she grew up with Edric and Emira, but ultimately agrees with her wives that that would be best.

Oh, and family gatherings at holidays would be so fucking chaotic oh my god. They either need to enlist the help of someone in the construction coven to expand a portion of their house or consider renting out a public space if they all say they’re going to come because there’s just so many people. Absolute Chaos. Luz adores the family gatherings because she always wanted to be part of a big family and now she is.

They tend to stress Amity out only because of the amount of planning and cooking to be done, but ultimately ends up enjoying herself (it’s still weird to see her parents attend these gatherings and playing with her children and wait- did dad just sneak her some of the dessert?!?! UGH, she’ll be awake for hours thanks dad).

Willow also loves the family gatherings but gets easily overwhelmed by the amount of people in attendance. She’s the one that would go one by one with everyone that came and just spend some time with them, catching up until the conversation naturally flows to the next person. She has now idea how Luz can ping pong off the walls with the energy she does, but she’s always admired that about Luz. It also tickles her heart and makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside whenever Luz’s pinballing ends up aimed at her because Luz will always put both hands on Willow’s shoulders, give her a kiss on the cheek and check in with her. Once they’ve confirmed they’re both doing okay, Luz will kiss her cheek again and kinda nuzzle their heads together before she’s off to talk with someone else. Luz does the same thing with Amity and even still after all these years, it reduces Amity to a blushing mess. Anyone around that witnesses it either coos at how cute they are or gags at the display of affection (take your pick at who lol).

You can’t just ask me to switch gears right in the middle of domestic fluff and just rewind way back to potential Boschlow stuff oh man. Let’s see....I personally am a huge proponent of Boscha getting her act together, not related to her feelings for anyone, before she tries to pursue Willow. Whether or not Willow is part of the process of her changing for the better can be up to you. But Boscha has a lot of stuff she needs to sort out before I let her anywhere near my plant daughter Willow.

I actually follow a couple fics dedicated to exactly that. Jackal’s Ladder was REALLY good and has finished! Idk if the author is going to continue it as a series but I’ve got my fingers crossed 🤞. The New Normal is another favorite of mine. It really looks into what bothers Boscha and makes her the bully she is, tears it all down, and makes her build herself back up. And she’s not doing it to please anyone. She’s just doing it for herself. (But then there’s tiny hints of Boschlow on the horizon that I’m super eager for).

All in all, I think Boscha is an interesting character and could have a great relationship with Willow; she just needs to get her shit together first. Idk how it would happen tbqh, but maybe Willow sees how hard Boscha is trying at being a better person? Maybe she sees Boscha doing something genuinely kind to someone else like helping an elderly witch at the market? Idk, something soft like Amity reading to kids that proves that she’s actually doing this “being better” thing for herself and not for an audience that she’s trying to fool. I think at that point Willow genuinely believes Boscha is trying and is encouraging her in her efforts, even going as far as extending an olive branch so they can try being friends. Willow’s curious about the person Boscha is when she’s not a bully. And now that she knows for certain that she’s not lying or doing this for some kind of cookie points, she’s willing to put in the effort.

I think it’d be very fun to watch Willow realize Boscha has a crush on her and then use that to flirt with her mercilessly. Because she does kinda sorta reciprocate those feelings?? But she’s still not certain of them yet. And it’s so much fun to watch Boscha turn the same color as her hair. So until she sorts out those feelings, she’s just gonna flirt relentlessly with her until something changes.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.9

TW Purposeful misgendering of MC, and overall skeevy first POV.

MC is agender and here I started this chapter with the POV of someone out right misgendering them.

Capital He/Him pronouns are associated with Slender.

He was angry, but then again when wasn't He. You've wasted too much time on “laying low��. And now He's getting impatient, you're starting to hear whispers about potential replacements and incompetency. First you fuck up your mission then you gave Him the subpar sacrifice of that dumb hippie. He didn't want her, He wanted her. Her being your current and original target.

The girl who moved to town in the middle of March, YN. Didn't wait for the month to end or come the first week of the new one. Such a strange time to move...almost as if she was running away from something. He had taken an interest in her immediately. You didn't see what was so special about her, just another mousy girl in a small town, very obedient from what you saw.

Maybe that's what caught His attention. A new little puppet to add to His collection...but His urgency with this task didn't really fit. You knew for a fact He wasn't human but...could He have desires of the flesh? Was this a twisted perversion of your god's? The fuzzy feeling in your head gets painful at the thought.

'Ok, you aren't after some ass.' you think trying to appease Him.

It doesn't work, your apology is almost as worthless as you are to Him in this moment. You've really been testing Him lately, understandably this is your last chance so to speak. Bring Him YN or you won't be His problem much longer.

A chill runs down your spine at the ill intent you feel through your contract.

You're working on it, really you are. But she's so stupid and air headed it will take a while to break her for Him to be able to properly mold her. Not to mention she seems to have acquired a new guard dog. One that seems to have problems staying still, yet will spend hours watching her.

You'd seen him around town a few times in the past week or two, he has two other companions who aren't as bad about keeping low profiles. Yeah, you'd seen each of them at her house at one point or another. The short one seemed to have a nasty habit of slinking into her home in the dead of night as she slept. He didn't seem to go in during her drives, only when she'd be there. The tall one would come in the early morning or middle of the day, either to retrieve his partner or to snoop around inside for a bit before leaving. Aside from his partner he never seemed to leave with anything, never went in with anything either. They weren't leaving traces so they couldn't be your replacements.

Even if they had been they didn't seem too tough, you could over take them easy. Show Him you were still good for something.

But worst of all was her fucking mutt. He'd just circle the outside of the house, inspecting it. For what you have no clue, but he kept at it like he had a keen eye and could detect the slightest change of the home. One day he started looking off into the tree line and you'd almost swear he knew where you were. And while his nearly all black eyes made you think he was your replacement, intimidating you, your god suggested otherwise.

Reminding you that they weren't breaking her down for Him. That was your job.

Not only was the twink annoyingly thorough when at her home but he seems to have followed her to work today. You hope this isn't a new habit for him, you'll need to catch YN off guard at some point and you can't do that with that stupid twitching bastard around.

He bought two books and YN had seemed surprised when he came up to chat with her after finishing the first one. She's not your normal type but you can't deny she is cute talking so excitedly, you really wish that fucking mask was off her face so you could see her plump lips move. Come to think of it, twitchy was also wearing a mask. Is that why she talks so freely with him? Was all you had to do to get close to her was wear a mask? Or did she have a little crush on this guy?

No, she's speaking the same way she would with one of the Hornets. He however has a certain look in his eye while they talk. Maybe someone does have a crush...Or maybe he's just a disgusting stalker like you are. Were, like you were that is before your god saw the potential in you. And blessed you as one of his followers.

If he is a creepy little stalker tailing her you could let him do the breaking, and then you'd swoop in for the kill. Would that take too long? Better yet would your god even be happy with the idea. He can get very touchy about plans, down to the tiniest details too. You've witnessed first hand what He does to those who leave gaps for targets to get through.

Reprogramming doesn't seem pleasant. But that'll be the least of your worries if you don't get a move on with delivering Him His choice of offering. In the years you've been of service to your god...you don't recall Him ever choosing his offering. A target yes of course plenty, but His next puppet or a special meal. No this was big, testing your worth probably, very big.

'And you're failing.' that voice isn't yours.

'How, astute.' He's chatty today. That's always a bad thing. For you anyway.

You turn your attention to the bookshop across the street, coffee shops make such great covers especially when you add a laptop and act as though you're writing a novel, no one spares you a glance. It's five and that means quitting time, maybe YN wouldn't go home right away. You could run into her and plant some seeds of paranoia in her.

Mess with her head, have her freak out and cause a scene in town to discredit her further in the future. Your typical MO. After all she is just the simple new girl in town, and small town residents don't trust easy.

'This should be fun.' you think as you pack up your computer and notebook.

Heading to your car you wait in the parking lot for a moment, making it look as though you were busy with your phone while you waited to see that ugly yellow car drive in one direction or another. It doesn't take long before you catch sight of the brightly colored Kia taking the road towards the general store.

Wonderful, one humiliating panic attack in public coming up. This was something you could manage perfectly on your own. Though maybe once your god was more pleased with you, you'd ask for His assistance in giving her a few more hallucinations. After all the faster she's broken down the faster He gets what He wants.

Once at the small store you park one space away from her Kia. Normally for targets you prefer if they don't notice your car but it's not like there's room to go else where in this parking lot. Just as you're about to make your way inside, you hear more murmuring.

How the hell are you supposed to do His bidding when all He seems to want to do is keep interfering? It's getting so frustrating that you're starting to question your god's intelligence.

For your insolence you are hit hard with the worst migraine you've ever gotten since taking up a contract with Him.

'You are not the only one following them.' is the biting retort.

Moving your head despite the pain, you scan the store through squinted eyelids as you stand just out of your car. And you catch sight of him, that twitching guard dog from before. He hasn't noticed you but he seems to be sharing a cart with YN.

Did she get a boyfriend? Were you just unaware of that detail this entire time? She seems too relaxed with him for that to be anything else. They look too domestic together, you'll have fun ripping them apart. She'll probably cry like the bitch she is when you do, that's a very nice picture.

'Leave.' what now?

'Leave before he catches on to you.' The twitchy twink? You could take him in a fight, kid is practically all bones, why should you leave?

Instead of an answer your migraine intensifies. For the first time in years you are racked with so much pain that you would've collapsed on the ground if your car hadn't been near to steady yourself.

A chime of a bell sounds, “Hey pal you alright there?”, it's just Leo. Luckily you've never shopped at his store so likely hood of him knowing who you are or mentioning this to anyone isn't high.

“Ah...yeah,” you say through the wincing, “real bad migraine.”

“I got some Excedrin-”

“I'll just come back later.” you cut him off and get back into your car. Movement isn't easy for you under all this pain but you can feel His presence in your mind gaining control. You'll either wake up back in your bed or on the forest floor covered in blood and ticks. You really hope it isn't the last one as you black out just as you turn onto 3rd Avenue.

Leo comes back into the store almost as soon as he ran out.

“Everything ok?” you ask. You'd seen the man run out when you turned around to ask if he had gluten free vegetable stock.

“Yea, some tourist must'a got car sick or somethin'.” you nod at his gruff reply.

“Oh, do you have any gluten free vegetable stock?”

The old man eyes you warily.

“Kid don' tell me ya got on one a those fad diets.”

“No it's for the Picnic next week. I wanted to make an all diet friendly foragers pie.” you said shaking your head, which snaps right twice. Behind you you hear a muffled clucking coming from Toby.

Toby had hung out at the shop with you today. After he read through The Son of Neptune the two of you had discussed the series for a bit before you almost let some spoiler slip through. Toby couldn't help but laugh when you pushed him into a reading nook to finish reading the series before you ruined it for him. He got two thirds of The Mark of Athena done before you clocked out for the day.

While leaving he mentioned he needed to go shopping and asked where the grocery store in town was because he hadn't seen one in the area. You offered to take him to Leo's shop because it had everything you could need and was a small local business. Like most things in Kepler but there was a Trader Joe's that opened up in town, and they don't have much to offer when you cook from scratch. So here you were shopping together.

“I think we have organic no clue if it's vegan though.”

“Gluten free.” Leo rolls his eyes in dismissal and goes off to find the organic broth for you.

“Was there anything else you needed to grab?” you asked turning to look at Toby.

He had a list with him and had been ripping small tears to cross off what he'd gotten. He nods once then twice as his eyes find items he had yet to find, until they stop near the bottom of the list. Toby's dark brown eyes roll so hard you're pretty sure they rolled to the back of his skull. He lets out a dramatic 'agh' sound at whatever was on the list. Before crumbling it and tossing it into the cart.

“Atomic Fireballs and eggs. Can you grab the candy? Some people get pissy about their eggs.” he says cutting his eyes to the cooler containing eggs. This is probably a regular argument with the group.

With a small nod and an “mmhmm” you run off to the candy isle. You smell the cinnamon candy before you even see the container on the shelf. Before running off back to Toby and the cart, you pause debating if you should grab some M&Ms or chocolate chips to make cookies for tomorrow's movie night. You had stress eaten the snacks you bought last week only having the Surge left for Kirby, like hell you would drink it yourself.

After the week you've had baking sounded really nice. The mind numbing activity would probably be therapeutic since you haven't baked in so long. You grab two of the bigger bottles of mini M&Ms they always taste better to you, plus mini cookies tend to be a bigger hit than their regular sized counter parts. On your way to the front of the store you pass an end cap for chips. Seeing the white cheddar popcorn you like you grab a bag to replace the one you ate earlier in the week.

You should be set now, as long as Leo had the broth. If he didn't gluten free broth seems like something the Trader Joe's would have.

Toby's already at the counter with Leo, who had a box of broth off to the side. Noice. You place the Atomic candy on the counter with the rest of Toby's items. Leo looks between the two of you but brushes off whatever thought or comment he had.

“This it for you kid?”Leo has already begun ringing him out.

You see the movement of Toby's mouth open while he double checks the cart, he closes it when he sees the wad of paper. He must have forgotten something. Going over your own list you double check to make sure you have everything before it's your turn.

“N-n-n-no, can I-I-I get two boxes of condoms? St-s-st-standard and Large.” Toby's popping his knuckles a little more aggressively than normal, well what you've equated to normal for Toby.

'Oh.' the add ons sort of surprise you, but his exaggerated sigh from earlier makes more sense. Why did you even think that eggs caused that sort of reaction? It was probably because he was gonna have to ask for condoms in front of you. His new friend, nearly a stranger. Toby's agitated tics and stuttering are very valid right now.

You miss the look Leo gives you but Toby doesn't and when Leo looks back at him his tics get more frequent.

Looking to Toby when his 'mrrow' tic keeps repeating, you see the tips of his ears are a soft pink. A stark contrast to their normally grayish white complexion. Wanting to help but knowing he's most likely just embarrassed you decide to say nothing and ignore the situation. Thankfully Leo doesn't make any type of comment either as he finishes ringing out Toby and hands him his receipt.

“This it kid?” He says as he starts checking out your items.

“Um...ah, what's the pizza today?” this week isn't your normal pizza week but with the Picnic being next weekend you probably won't do pizza next week. And you have to have a slice ready for Chonk, least he decides to see what human taste like.

“Spinach and mushroom, a white pizza.”

“Yea I'll take one of those then please.”

“Garlic crust?” How very dare this man. What kind of question is that.

“Of course.”

He leaves to the back of the store yet again to retrieve your pizza. There's a silence that falls over the store as he leaves, leaving only you and Toby out front. Not an awkward type of silence but you definitely aren't going to risk a glance at Toby right now.

“I threw in an extra for that stray you've been feeding.” He says as he returns. Toby having calmed down a bit scoffs at the stray comment.

“That isn't a-a-a stray it's a fucking dem-mon.”

“Ok like that's fair, but he is kinda cute.”

“I don't care what it is, just keep it away from my store.” Leo finishes ringing you up. “Bad for business to have a wild animal rooting through the garbage.” Leo doesn't care about that stuff he also fears Chonk, and all his trash panda glory.

Once you settled your tab with Leo you and Toby go out to your car. You place his items in the backseat while you take the trunk, so no one goes home with the wrong item. Stars forbid you end up with the condom bag and have to awkwardly give that to Toby or even worse Brian or Tim. You've had four interactions with the man but already you can hear Brian's teasing banter.

Getting situated in the car you hand your phone to Toby to pick the music. You'd left your entire library open this time and not just the home page, you wanted to see if he'd pick something different or just go with the last thing played. He did scroll a bit before just clicking the last played playlist. Well at least he looked, maybe you'd make a playlist and see what he liked. He could just enjoy the songs.

While you're stuck at the light waiting to turn you remember consciously that Saturday Night Dead is tomorrow. You wonder if the trio would be joining you all. Wouldn't hurt to ask.

“Hey so are you guys coming over to the Cryptonomica tomorrow night?”

“Tim and Brian are.” Toby's eyes glance at the window as he picks at the skin around his nails.

“Oh. Why aren't you coming?” you hope you don't sound too pushy.

“Hi, I'm Toby I have Tourette's.” He says in a deadpan.

“Nice to meet you, I'm YN I have Autism.” you sass back cutting your eyes to him, “and I have tics too remember.”

“You can sit beside me. The gang never mentions my ticcing or stimming during a movie and I sit in the corner to be less of a distraction.”

From the corner of your eye you can see he peeled off a bit of skin and is now bleeding. When you slow down at the light you reach over him to the glove box and pull out a box of band-aids. Tossing the box in his lap you focus back on the road. There's a cracking sound when Toby's shoulder pop from a tic but other than that you two fall into a lull in the conversation.

From the corner of your eye you see Toby put the box in the cup holders between you. This little shit, just because he doesn't feel pain doesn't mean picking his skin is a healthy fidget.

“...I..I'll think about it.” he's still picking at his skin but maybe reassurance will help him calm down.

“Well, I hope I see you tomorrow then,” you can't help the grin on your face, you're just a touch giddy at the fact you've made a friend this fast. “No pressure though.” can't be too pushy you might scare him off.

You hear a huff as he turns more of his body to look out the window. He isn't upset his energy feels calm almost excited, it's nice to meet someone who isn't so confusing with their actions. Though you'd wish he wouldn't try to hide them. Maybe you both have the same idea of not wanting to overwhelm the other right away. You get the feeling this situation...your blooming friendship with Toby, it isn't something he's use to.

Getting to the RV you help Toby carry in the groceries, despite his protests that he can do it. It was just machismo of course, because once inside the RV you noticed how clean it was for three bachelors and their huge dog living in it. Sure there were dishes in the sink but dishes are a care chore that never ended. There was very little clutter that you saw but you also weren't paying close attention since you were just helping bring in groceries and not here for a visit. It would be rude to look, you think.

Once all of the boys' bags were brought in and either on the counter or table you saw a majority of them had blood smears all on the handles. Fucking Toby, you gave him band-aids for a reason.

“Tobais you're bleeding.”

“Thanks Captain obvious.” you want to smack him.

“Do you guys have a first aid kit?”

“Nope.” he sounds so smug when he pops the 'p' sound.

“Ok, then I'll go get the band-aids out of my car and you wash your hands.”

“Don'-uwu- Don't worry about it.”

You have to bite your lip so you don't laugh but the small stream of air coming from your nose let Toby know you were laughing. Despite his mask you can see his pout clearly when he turns to you.

“I...I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't...but it's too,” your giggling is breaking down your ability to speak, “cute.”

The grumpy face sort of melts off of the boy in front of you, but you can tell by the vibes he's still touchy. You try to calm yourself but quickly realize you aren't giggling anymore because of his tic.

“C'mon it isn't even that funny.” he says gruffly, before looking off to the side.

“No...it's,” you keep shaking your head as the movement doesn't stop. The loop won't stop and you're starting to tear up from the muscles in your abdomen seizing up then relaxing in repetition.

Toby seems to realize what's happened.

“No fucking way.” is all he says as he comes closer to your still giggling form. “A giggling tic?” You can only nod, you're starting to get light headed. Toby noticing you starting to crouch down, helps ease you to sit. He stays by your side as you both wait for the tic to cease.

He even tries rubbing a hand on your back to soothe you into calming down. You'll need to tell him physical comfort doesn't really help you. It's still sweet of him to try.

Unlike a laughing fit that will have a gradual die down of the action, your laughing tic has an abrupt stop. But you feel just as tired and even more sick than someone who just got out of a laughing fit. Breath coming out hitched though you try to gasp in more air to soothe your impending headache. Your face is red and covered in tear stains, once again you are thankful for your mask. This isn't a tic you get often but you probably hate this one the most, just from how drained it leaves you.

Toby continues to rub circles into your back as your breathing starts to even. Eventually he gets up to grab you some water. You notice it's quiet in the RV, not even Connor is around Brian must have him today.

“That was probably karma.” he says as he hands you the glass. Looking up to him confused he continues, “For teasing me about my tic.”

“But I w-wa-,” you take a large gulp of water for the raspiness of your voice, “I wasn't teasing. I just thought 'uwu' was a cute vocal tic.” you say indignantly.

Really you had only thought the verbal tic was cute. Also it'd been a while since you heard 'uwu' said aloud so it caught you off guard.

“Not as cute as a giggling tic.” who's teasing who now.

“Haha, don't get used to it doesn't happen often.”

After settling down from you tic it's time to head home. You really don't want to over stay your welcome. The fatigue is also starting to set in and you want to get home before it really hits.

Toby is nothing if not a gentleman you've noticed. And he continues to be on brand as he walks you back to your car.

“So thanks for that.” vaguely motioning as if to say 'y'know' with your hands rather than your words. Toby knows, you can tell from that boyish glint in his eyes.

“Hope to see you tomorrow night.” you say getting back into your car.

“It's sounding better now.” there's a pause, “Get home safe.” he slaps the interior of your window before backing away from your car altogether.

With a final wave you back out back onto the old dirt road and drive on home. When you get home you realize you never patched up Toby's hand, now you have a small bloodstain on your door.

[cupcakemolotov]

Far From the Shallow Now

Synopsis: Caroline needs to get her head on straight after the ball and is still awake when Klaus drops by.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence × Pre-Relationship × Technically Tyler and Caroline Are Still Together × No cheating × Still Mostly Tyler Friendly × A Moment After the Ball × a what if × Domestic Fluff × Sort Of ×

A tiny pieces would be part of the random snippet series. Just a bit of a what if Caroline had been up when Klaus dropped off the drawing. You can read it here on A03 if you prefer.

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The kitchen smelled like her childhood. Warm brown sugar and melting chocolate, the memory of afternoons spent baking with her dad were precious moments that still ached. Pre-vampire Caroline has really hated cooking, and she’d found her opinion hadn’t changed much over the past few months. But baking? With its necessary precision and attention to detail, even the most finicky of recipes soothed her. It had been her dad that had first put a wooden spoon in her hand, who had sighed at her scrunched nose and red face and smoothed her bangs.

“Come on, Care Bear. Let’s try a new recipe today. I’ll let you pick.”

But those memories had been filled with afternoon sunshine and the blare of a radio, and they had been a long time ago. Long before the silence between her parents had grown cold and Bill’s business trips had taken longer and longer. Her childhood was bittersweet and it clogged her throat to think of all the things she’d lost.

But that was for another night.

Tonight, all she had was the silence of her home and the shadows of the neighborhood around her. With her mom working the graveyard shift, she had the house to herself. It had been a relief to come home to shadows and silence after the noise and color of the ball. A chance to process and detox, push away the memory of Klaus’ hands on her skin, the boyish, curling smile on his face and the anger as she’d walked away from him. Breath shuddering in her throat, she stirred the cookie dough a little more thoroughly.

A little pre-baking cleaning had helped calm her juggling nerves and here she was, getting worked up again. The fridge was stuffed with sympathy casseroles, and she’d thrown out dozens of wilting flower arrangements. The cards were neatly stacked and organized in piles alphabetically and according to whom she still needed to reply to.

Her mom probably wouldn’t even notice.

Tomorrow’s project would involve freezing what was left of the food that her mom would eat, she’d already packed the leftovers into Tupperware so she could return the pans to her neighbors. But her dad had taught her to never return a dish empty, so at least her midnight baking would have a purpose. Absently licking at a smear of cookie dough, Caroline watched the clock on the oven click over past 3 AM, and mentally counted her blood bags. She’d need an extra tomorrow, to offset her lack of sleep, but her mind couldn’t stop spinning.

Is it so hard to believe I fancy you?

She’d showered as soon as she’d gotten home, needing to remove Klaus’ lingering scent from her skin. She scrubbed herself pink with her favorite soap, and stood in the shower far longer than needed. The dress was already folded and packed in the box it had arrived in, her bra and underwear at the bottom of her dirty clothes hamper. Now she was sitting in her kitchen in old cheer sweats, and surrounded by two dozen cookies while she worked on the next batch.

And nothing had managed to stop the wheels spinning in her head.

Running a hand down her face, Caroline tried again to decide how she felt about the fiasco that had been her night. The dancing, the hunger and lust in his gaze, those falsely boyish smiles and the rage that had burned when she’d flung his diamonds back at his face.

Klaus had meant every word he’d said and none of it. That was the game he played. Perfection and coercion, falsely sweet words that clung like poisoned honey. It’d been easier to push aside her curiosity, that niggling fascination for how his brain worked before he’d turned his gaze towards her.

Klaus was a monster. But he was a smart one, always steps and steps ahead of his enemies. She didn’t want him, she needed to not want him, and she was pretty sure he didn’t want her either, and it stiffened her shoulders to think he saw her as the distraction Damon insisted she play or his very own potential Trojan horse.

She would never betray her friends.

But Caroline didn’t want to die.

Eyes closing at the thought, she took a careful breath. The games Damon played were dangerous. Esther, Bonnie, all his siblings were spinning on a course that could only lead to collateral damage, and she was sick of it.

Tyler too sometimes only saw her as useful. Her dad had died helping him and still the last time they’d talked he’d wanted her to play more games. As if she wasn’t drowning in grief and what if’s, as if her world hadn’t been twisted as violently as his, as if she wasn’t trapped in a spiderweb she had no idea how to escape. Her fingers tightened on the wooden spoon, and she exhaled slowly.

She and Tyler hadn’t chosen what had been done to them but they could choose how they responded and she was starting to feel less and less comfortable about the bitterness he carried. The hard edge of rage. Whatever had happened when he left and found Hayley had sharpened parts of Tyler she hadn’t known were there and she wondered what he saw when he looked at her. If what he saw made him as uncomfortable as it made her.

Lips flattening at the thought, she reached for the bag of chocolate chips and froze at the sounds of her front door opening. Eyes snapping up, body going taut at the potential threat, her stomach knotted at the sight of Klaus stepping into her home.

For a long moment, they just studied each other.

In the hours since she’d left the ball, he’d ditched his jacket and bow tie, his white waistcoat nowhere to be found. His hair was no longer so perfectly arranged, he’d rolled his shirt sleeves to bare his forearms, and if that wasn’t enough to spike her blood pressure, he still wore his suspenders. Hidden behind the counter-top, her nails dug reflexively into her palm. He’d been stupidly good looking earlier at the ball with his sly smiles and dimpled promises, but this? Rumpled, lips bitten red, his gaze dragging along her body with a slow perusal that set her nerves of fire was something else entirely.

Klaus smiled slow, cheeks creasing, all of the anger from before tucked beneath charm and guile. “I’m surprised you’re still awake, love.”

“Your family is exhausting,” she agreed tartly, straightening her spine. “But of the two of us, I’m the only or who is expected to be here at all. Kind of rude, just bargaining in, don’t you think?”

He gave an elegant little shrug and strolled closer. Her jaw flexed, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box and setting it on an empty space on the counter. “I do have an invitation. And perhaps it is also just as rude, don’t you think, to return gifts?”

Shoving the wooden spoon back into the cookie dough before she was tempted to smack him with it, Caroline settled a hand on her hip and faked her bravado. “It’s way ruder to offer gifts with so many strings in the first place.”

An amused glance from beneath his lashes before he peered at her cooling racks of cookies. “Most women enjoy apology jewelry.”

“I must have missed the apology.”

One dimple peaked high on his smile and he snagged a cookie. “I didn’t realize you baked.”

She narrowed her eyes as he took a bite, his clear dodge. This entire conversation felt surreal, a little bit domestic, and a lot concerning. Wasn’t she just thinking about how dangerous he was? This, this charm, only highlighted that danger. He slipped so easily from mood to mood, as mercurial as the wind and she needed to remember that.

Promises or no.

“It’s not like we really exchange small talk. And that’s the only cookie you get. I have a dozen dishes to fill and I need this done before mom gets home.” She tipped her chin towards the dining room table where the clean dishes and tinfoil were waiting for her. She was willing to bet he'd already noted the dishes, but so what. “So why don't you get to your point and leave?”

Klaus made a thoughtful noise as he finished the cooking, dusting his hands of crumbs. “Need help?”

“From you? Absolutely not.” The words slipped out before she could catch him and find something politer to say. This was her grief, her method of coping. He didn't get an opinion and he didn't get to pretend they were friends. Not when he wold kill all of them if he thought it necessary. This? This mess and this grief and this small thing to help her mom was hers.

The smile died on his face but she didn’t flinch. She didn't know what he read on his face, but his head tipped in a silent acknowledgement. Instead of baiting her more, his hand returned to his pocket, and this time he produced a rolled up piece of parchment.

Caroline looked at it warily. “What is that?”

“Part of the apology,” he murmured as he set it delicately on top of the box holding the diamonds. “The bracelet is yours love, no strings. Do with it what you will. As for the rest.” He paused, blue eyes narrowed as he studied her, a hint of gold burning the edges of his iris. “The games my mother plays are not kind to her pawns. Be sure you don’t find yourself in over your head, Caroline.”

She lifted her chin to hide her tremble. “Threats?”

“Call it a warning.” Klaus said. “Likely the only one you’ll get.” Just as quickly, that sense of danger melted under another smile and he snagged a second cookie before turning and sauntering away at her protest.She slid her tongue between her teeth at the sight of just how well his pants were tailored and the way the suspenders highlighted the length of his back. The image was going to be burned behind her eyes for days.

As if he could sense her gaze dragging down his spine, he cast one more boyish smile at her as he opened her door. “The cookies were delicious, love. I do so look forward to learning what other secrets you're keeping.”

She watched him go, barely breathing, a mix of alarm and arousal mixing with adrenaline. So many layers. The hidden threat in his words, the reminder that he could walk into her home whenever he wished. The return of the bracelet, that little bit of claim he’d laid on her life.

An apology.

Swallowing, she wiped her shaking hands on her sweats and reached for the parchment. It unrolled to show the familiar lines of her face and the perfect image of a horse.

Thank you for your honesty.

Swallowing, she set the drawing down and didn’t know what to think.