#Not what they meant when they said be gay do crime

[seeminglydark]

Ok so, I'm not a big fan of the usual cake around where I now live, so I usually try to make my own birthday cake right?

Spoiler alert: I'm a terrible Baker. Last years attempt almost broke the counter with a loud THUNK when I took it out of the pan. It had a cherry filling and started to bleed after a few minutes. Hilarious. MIL brought me candy eyes for reasons I still don't understand. It was wonderful and almost inedible.

Kinda cute if I do say so myself.

This year I thought I'd fix everything that went wrong. I got a better recipe. I worked hard. And it came out so much worse. So. Much. More. Hilarious.

It was delish but. Well. See for yourself I guess. TW fake gore: cake that looks like it's the first kill in a 80s slasher film.

[hualianisms]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coding/hints as something other than platonic:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sunchipss]

non cannon (some cannon) ship incorrect quotes

Icarus: We should be partners. Ven: You mean like, partners in crime? Icarus: Yeah… that’s precisely what I meant.

Ven: I feel like doing something stupid.  Icarus: I’m stupid, do me.

*ariving to a meeting*

Icarus: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things. Ven: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

Icarus: Bro, I had a dream we fucked. Ven: Bro, relax it was just a dream. Icarus: Huh, gay, I wouldn’t fuck you. Ven: You wouldn’t? Icarus: I mean, unless you want to-

Ari : Stop doing that. Momboo: Stop doing what? Ari : Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

Ari : I think I just figured something out. I got to go. Momboo: Aren't you forgetting something? Ari : Uuh…hesitantly kisses Momboo's forehead before running out. Momboo: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

Ari : When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this… Momboo: pulls out card from deck Now, was this your card? Ari : Holy moly-

Ari : I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness— Momboo: Hi. Ari : melts down in a flustered heap of softness

Momboo: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? Ari : Peonies, why? Momboo: Ari : Were you going to get me flowers? Momboo: Ari : Momboo: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

Ari : Stay foxy. Momboo: Die lonely.

Momboo: Ari , I… Momboo: I love you! Ari : Not my problem.

Ulysses: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash. Ven : Oh. We're going out? Ulysses: Wh…

Ven : Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out? Ulysses: …Have you never taken a shower before?

Ven : Know why I called you in here? Ulysses: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic. Ven : Stops pouring two glasses of wine. Accidentally?

Ulysses: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles. Ven : Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one? Ulysses: Seize the dick.

Aax: Caspian, I have a great idea. Caspian: Let’s hear it. Aax: We trick Fenris and Rae to go out on a date together. Caspian: YES! Caspian: And hey, if that doesn’t work out, maybe you and me could go out, get some drinks— Aax, hitting them with a book: THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU.

Aax: You got a date yet Centross? Centross: No… Aax: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Rae: Did it hurt when you fell- Centross: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt- Rae: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs. Centross: … Rae: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

Centross: Fenris , you'll be working with Aax and Rae. Caspian: Alright! My fantasy threesome! Everyone else: blank stares

Caspian: …Of people on a team.

[binomech]

in which @medusaesque and I ponder the Kim skill tree (under the cut because it's long, as usual) ft. en dehors (a psyche skill from her latest comic)

medusaesque: i was really proud of en dehors.. human interaction is a complicated dance but if you listen to the music learn the chirography and practice your moves MAYBE you can reach out and dance

binomech: yes yes yes

binomech: ponders. god i didn't realize you meant the ballet meaning

binomech: i don't know if you care about what my brain thought en dehors was mentioning but i concocted a whole string of bullshit as the philosopher in me is wont to do

medusaesque: do tell 👀

binomech: so en dehors is a legal term in french as well as many other things but. it's the term that is used to separate criminal charges for military officials -- the punishment is different whether the crime was comitted in the line of duty or as a civilian (en dehors de l'armée). it's also a concept in contemporary queer theory in francophone circles that lines with the theory of marginality which tl;dr is an utopian proposal talking about whether or not it is possible to live a full life in the margins of society and when does a margin stop being a margin. marginal both as in a footnote in a book margin and as an oppressed group of people. en dehors is a way to describe emotional detachment. en dehors is synonym with en coulisses, is what happens in the backstage, the dirty unrewarding work that no one ever will see unless they look for it. an exogamous marriage -- an union that happens outside of the socially expected bounds of the group, is also called mariage en dehors. the marriage that isn't approved by the church is also a mariage en dehors. en dehors, paumé, a vagabond who can't find a place that will take him in.

binomech: anyway.

binomech: it literally did not occur to me to think about the classical dance thing i was like Lost In The Sauce

medusaesque: WOW i knew the queer theory thing its part of why i chose it for kim (and of why i even know a classical ballet term lmao) but i did Not know the legal term! thats fascinating

medusaesque: goddamn

medusaesque: you made my thing much cooler

medusaesque: i just thought of kim living in the margins and the way he might approach venturing out of them and reaching out- calculated and measured but passionate like dance

binomech: it's very GOOD

binomech: i'm like wow... this reading... is so flavorful!!!

binomech: my approach was so devoid of warmth and i like that... idk how do i put this

binomech: en dehors position in ballet is precarious and precise much like kim's demeanor towards his existing is precarious and precise but like you said it is rewarded with the potential of a group dance

binomech: his composure and poise being the only chance to be part of the in-group

binomech: and also of course the marginality of a queer racialized experience at large but specifically the exhilarating bravery of dipping your toes into the main text

medusaesque: yeah!! thats how he literally dances but also how he navigates any other social situation

medusaesque: i imagine every time he puts his hand on harrys back or shoulder its an en dehors check

medusaesque: not too light, not too tight, definitely not too gay

binomech: man every time i think about this i'm like fully cognizant of my biases because i am white and i know race is crucial to kim's embodiment and exitence but all i can do is washed out analyses based on secondhand recountings of friends and theorists. so i focus way too much on queerness and disability

binomech: like the disability in text is so fucking blatant to me but it's like 3 lines so it could be easily dismissed and i'm scared of getting fanon-brained about it

binomech: so when conceptualizing skills i'm like. am i being true to canon kim. what would canon kim do bracelet

medusaesque: nah it's defiantly there

medusaesque: the disability i mean

binomech: like... yes he has a 7/10 shooting score (unbelievable that this is High to people) and he can drive and he can do fucking crosswords but I just... i think a lot about my own experiences and about how people normally conceputalize the spectrum of blindness and i pick a comically large hammer and squash the world

medusaesque: well first of all its really meaningful to find that kind of connection in fiction even if you arent 100% accurate to the source material and secondly kim canonically has really bad eyesight and it affects his relationship to vulnerability and lack of agency

medusaesque: so id say ur good

medusaesque: like dealing with being thought of an a spy, with fetishization, with the whole model minority thing..

binomech: yeah!!!

binomech: anyway yeah disclaimer of the bias that permeates these takes

binomech: a lot of people with visual impairments (moderate, severe or total sight loss) share this experience of the internal and external existence of the body being severed

binomech: something that i have experienced a lot, for example, is people telling me my face is overly expressive. something that a friend of mine who is fully blind since birth gets told a lot, is how stony faced she is.

binomech: they both have the same source: i struggle enough to see facial expressions on other people, to match them with a topic or tone of voice, as she does as well obviously. for me that has resulted in making my face move in what i can sort of glimpse from the motions and shapes of other's faces, to my friend it has resulted in her having been told how to move her face into smiles and frowns and gestures that are a mask to her and that do not come naturally

binomech: it's an act for the benefit of others and it's calculated

binomech: it's a very jarring feeling, to become aware of just how big the space between how you exist in the world and how others see you exist in the world is

binomech: and i think this is true for kim for disability reasons and for asian guy in a predominantly white environment reasons

binomech: and the moment you understand this gap is very traumatic

binomech: i think about kim's expressions being described as unreadable, subtle, sometimes not entirely matching his tone and i think about his face being the mask of composure to harry

binomech: there's also the precision that permeates all of his being: the orderly environments, the tailored clothes, even the color choices of his belongings

binomech: clutter is a hazard for bvi people on a practical level. having control over your appearance is a way to increase your chances at respect. all the important things must stand out because you Cannot lose them.

binomech: a bright orange jacket, a blue car and notebook, halogen square reflections to remind you who is safe and who isn't, who is a pothole and who is a tree shade

binomech: also if it is indeed severe hyperopia that he has, it does get worse with age

binomech: i suspect it's something more on top of that; i am nearsighted and have astigmatism but my actual disability comes from glaucoma, not from those, which are what i wear glasses for

binomech: anyway, it's really disheartening in general to have a degenerative condition but it's even worse when you base your personal value on how much of an asset you can be to the police

binomech: when i was a teenager i would study the visual clarity text charts so that i would score higher and they wouldn't tell my parents that my eyesight was getting worse because then i might not be allowed to do things i liked

binomech: i imagine a straight up adult kim lying to keep his license and the immense frustration of realizing that your best is a 7/10 when handling a gun

binomech: and knowing it's all downhill and the issue was never the words on a paper slip, that it DOES have consequences on your life and sense of self

medusaesque: god that really got me in your fic. kim and the way he tries to hold on to things that are slipping away

medusaesque: to be capable and power through. return from the sea. fight another day

binomech: shoutouts to the crushing weight of wanting to be a pilot for a commune that no longer exists, with an airforce that no longer exists, that wouldn't even take you in because you're a seolite crip

medusaesque: glory to the ghosts of us (or who we wanted to be)

binomech: howling

binomech: but yeah i do think Clinging is a big character trait of his

binomech: clinging while refusing to admit that's the only thing keeping him from falling off

binomech: again i think kim is both fully aware of how he's one misstep from his life falling apart and to some extent knows that it's a structural issue, but if it's a structural issue then it means he can't fight it alone, and you can't fight with others when the only thing you can trust is yourself

binomech: so he's got this stupid ass cognitive dissonance that has him listening to speedfreaks fm in a police issued vehicle when he should not even be allowed to drive

binomech: he plays with risk because a part of him knows that it's not a game

medusaesque: but he would never let anyone take away from him or even touch

binomech: EXACTLY

medusaesque: the thrill of danger.. from a man that the first thing you learn about him is that he would hurl himself in death's way for you

medusaesque: who outlived everyone

medusaesque: it's a dark game

binomech: not to bring quotes from other places but: "you will die for a cause, but you won't fight for one?"

binomech: kim doesn't realize he's not a sprinter, this is a fucking marathon

binomech: he seeks the thrill and the danger because going out in a blaze of glory is easy, having to apologize for all the wrong you've done and the principles you've betrayed is Hard

binomech: it's humiliating

binomech: and he won't be taken for a fool

binomech: he has a mask that is both keeping others from seeing him and him seeing himself

binomech: if his body isn't him, then he isn't lowvis, he isn't seolite, his body is a tool for justice through the RCM

binomech: and it's fucking hard, he sometimes feels the full extent of his humanity and limited individual power

binomech: so he sublimates his hopes and needs for the city that he loves. he's not a moralist but he still hopes to be a forget-me-not and a piece of the sky

binomech: an indistinguishable part of a whole

medusaesque: to be a part of anything

medusaesque: an unquestionable, necessary part

binomech: if a piece falls from the sky the sky just crumbles

binomech: he's necessary even if no-one notices

binomech: he has to be. otherwise, what is the point?

medusaesque: its all would be for nothing

medusaesque: people are more valuable than machines, it's always darkest before the dawn, sunrise parabellum, after the pale the world again, a blue forget me not a piece of the sky...mantra after mantra of this will eventually be worst it. there's belonging and worth at the end of this road

binomech: anyway all this meta was CONTEXT for skill talk -- i think that kim's mask is not a dramatic one but a folding screen, a blind (haha) to protect himself and to isolate himself. i think the ability to Spot the Beacon (both visually and emotionally) would also be very important. the flawlessly crafted cog in the machine. en dehors, as established. something full of desire that could be fulfilled if you reached out 5 centimeters to the left. dogged perseverance in the face of loss. thrillseeking.

binomech: honest to god give kim o&m aids i beg of you. he would hate a guide dog but. a fucking pocket magnifier. a light cane even if it's just for checking or social visibility (he would Despise it). a fucking psychic beam that tells harry to tell him minutiae about the world. anything

binomech: i feel like that is also a skill that i cannot conceptualize succintly - the awareness and fear of the unknown-to-you

binomech: be it the pale be it all these troves of information everyone else gets just by existing that could just pass you by i feel like that is also a skill that i cannot conceptualize succintly - the awareness and fear of the unknown-to-you

medusaesque: working together with volta do mar maybe?

binomech: absolutely

binomech: i think that volta as canonically physique tracks with my impression of kimskills

binomech: which is that they are uhhh

binomech: god anytime i try to say anything about kim it just turns into a 5 levels deep rabbithole context

medusaesque: the jacket descriptions fucking kiiled me

medusaesque: 'distant eneny of himself' howling....

binomech: in the constructed language toki pona, which is a language that is meant to be able to express everything in the world in an extremely limited amount of terms, there is a core word: selo

binomech: i promise i'm going somewhere with this bear with me

binomech: (quoting lipamanka's semantic space dictionary)

selo describes the outer layer of an object. It doesn't matter what the object is. For example, skin can be selo, and bark can be selo. This can get extended into the metaphorical. What are outer layers for? Usually, they protect that which is inside. perhaps an attempt to ignore bigotry could be described as a selo. But in doing so, you're framing it as an outer layer of your mind. selo for "protect" has a different vibe when compared with awen's protect meaning. With awen, a protection is an act of maintaining, perhaps from afar with no risk to yourself, but with selo, protection always puts something at risk, be it the skin of an apple, the walls of a castle, or the case of a guitar. selo don't always have to contain anything important, even though they usually do. Balloons are usually empty (save for air) and they can still be selo. In fact, a vaccum chamber's walls could be selo, even though they literally have nothing inside of the (save for "dark energy" or whatever don't @ me I'm not a physicist). As a verb, selo can mean "to surround fully," or "to become the outer layer of (something)." Some people use this for hugging, which is very fun.

binomech: selo, then, becomes: a shell. a protective layer. a barrier. a surface level understanding. a cover.

binomech: volta do mar as a physique skill AND as an associated trait to the jacket

binomech: your traitorous race. your traitorous job. your traitorous parents. your traitorous senses. distant enemy of yourself: seolite, communist, cripple, faggot.

binomech: and you wear it as armor

binomech: those will take the hit

medusaesque: GOD. thats so...

medusaesque: yeah

binomech: everyone associates it with the pale because of the canon references to volta and the voltas being poems and other artforms that can... filter the pale, as it were, to protect the mind

binomech: to put a net between the unknown horrors and the known horrors, to make the incomprehensible palatable to the mind

binomech: to make the harm from the Other match the harm from the Self

medusaesque: the kind of compartmentalizing kim excels at

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 2

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Steve came back to consciousness slowly, everything felt fuzzy and dreamlike. The sun was shining in the window and he was lying in a comfortable bed. Caution was ringing in the back of his head but he couldn’t remember why. He hadn’t dreamed. No nightmares. That was wrong, wasn’t it?

“Why am I here?” a familiar voice asked from the hall.

“He kept asking about you,” someone else whispered.

He looked down at his hands, flexed them. An I.V. was stuck in the back of his left hand and he brought it up to his face. His hands were clean. Even the dirt under his fingernails was gone. He took a deep breath and licked his lips. God, he was thirsty. What the fuck happened? Didn’t he die? This didn’t feel like death. He liked the other one better – the one where the kids –

The kids!

He sat up quickly and someone rushed to his side.

Joyce.

A gentle hand pushed his chest into the bed.

“Lay down, Steve,” she said quietly.

“Thirsty,” he said.

Joyce smiled and brought a cup of water with a straw up to his lips. He sipped and swallowed slowly.

“What do you remember?” she asked.

“I died,” he said it like a question. It didn’t seem right but it was the only thing that made sense.

“No, sweetie. You didn’t.”

Steve closed his eyes and drifted for a moment. The window was open and a breeze fluttered the curtains. He had left Hawkins but found a portal. The kids were on the other side. What had Dustin called it?

“Parallel universes,” he whispered to himself and Joyce hummed affirmatively.

“I’m glad El found you, Steve.”

Just then Dustin and Eddie walked into the room. Steve couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t dead which meant that Eddie wasn’t dead either. Fuck. He felt his eyes well up with tears. He looked good. Healthy, if a little confused.

“Eds,” he gasped out.

“Eds?”

“Is that not what I call you here?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“Uh no, strictly last name basis since the whole Vecna thing made us sorta friends?” Eddie replied and Steve’s heart sank.

No. That was wrong. He and Eddie had been inseparable since they were forced to work together at Scoops Ahoy. They had cracked the Russian code and infiltrated the base with Dustin and Erica. When they had been on truth serum, they had come out to each other. Eddie had been so afraid of what Steve’s reaction would be when he told him he was gay. The look on his face when Steve told him he was bisexual was priceless. They had danced around each other for months after that, trauma bonded best friends afraid to ruin what they had by trying for something more. At least on Steve’s end. But Eddie had been braver. Had blurted out his feelings one night after they had finished watching a movie.

Steve fiddled with the guitar pick necklace tucked under his shirt. Eddie noticed where his fingers had gone and stilled at the sight. He pulled his own necklace out of his shirt and stared at it before looking back at Steve with a question in his eyes. Steve didn’t know what to say, how to navigate a parallel universe where the man he loved had just met him before he died.

Steve had begged Vecna to kill him. At the end. With his friends lying dead around him. The last thing Vecna said to him before he took his army and left would haunt Steve forever.

“Your living suffering is sweeter to me than any death I could grant you.”

Even in this new universe, Vecna’s words rang true.

---

Other Steve Harrington was listed as a missing person and had been since the final battle with Vecna. His parents told the police that he had probably skipped town and they weren’t interested in trying to find him. That tracked with something his own parents would have done. With no body or crime scene there was no reason to suspect foul play and a missing person he had remained. Lucky for him, Steve supposed. It would be a lot easier to come back from being missing than being dead. Still, too much to ask for that in this universe he would have loving parents who gave a shit about him. Though… easier, too. He wouldn’t be able to fool loving parents into believing he was their son.

Hopper had given him Other Steve’s wallet and he went through it hoping to find some answers into his life here. Looking at his driver’s license was… strange. The card itself was the same; same address, same license number even… but the picture struck Steve with its otherness. Their faces were the same at first glance, but the smile and eyes – they weren’t his – and it sent shivers down his spine.

Here was a person who had lived a parallel life to his own. But Steve didn’t know how parallel. Did they have the same best friend growing up? Who was his first girlfriend? Boyfriend? Who was he? Steve didn’t know… and he was somehow supposed to just slot himself into his life? Take it over? He knew one fundamental difference between them so far – he was a coward and Other Steve wasn’t. How much that would change everything else, Steve didn’t know.

He kept going through the wallet. There were credit cards and bank cards that were probably useless, a membership card to Family Video, and some cash. Nothing to really go off. As Steve fiddled with the wallet, he found a pocket that held a strip of photos from a photobooth. It started with him and Robin smiling at the camera. The second picture had Dustin crashing into the booth and the third picture had all the kids struggling to get their faces into the frame. They were laughing and smiling chaotically. The back of his throat tightened and he shoved the photo back into the wallet before tossing it onto the table beside him.

He had been in the hospital for a few days, resting and regaining his strength. He had collapsed due to severe exhaustion, dehydration and malnutrition. Joyce and Hopper had managed to keep the kids away but it was only a matter of time before he would have to face them again. He was surprised they hadn’t managed to sneak in already. Joyce kept trying to talk to him, asking questions about himself and his universe but Steve had been silent. He wasn’t used to talking to people and didn’t feel like answering her questions. He knew she meant well but most of the answers weren’t something she would want to hear. They died. We lost. I’ve been alone. He also wasn’t used to her treating him so gently. He hadn’t interacted with his Joyce much and then her and Hopper had died somewhere in Russia.

Loud footsteps echoed in the hall.

“We want to see him, it’s been days!” He heard Dustin yell through the closed door.

“He’s been resting, Dustin. You have no idea what he’s been through,” Joyce replied.

Neither do you, Steve thought.

“Will you ask him if we can visit? Please?” Will asked, always the voice of reason.

The door cracked open and Joyce slid in. She saw that he was awake and had heard what Will wanted. “They’re worried and would like to see you,” she said quietly so they wouldn’t hear.

Steve fiddled with his I.V., unsure.

“You don’t have to, Steve,” she said, sensing his hesitation. She walked over and tried to take his hand but he flinched away.

He swallowed and rasped, “let them in.” He needed to talk to them, but they weren’t going to like what he had to say.

They entered more quietly and respectfully than Steve was expecting. There weren’t enough chairs for them all. Dustin claimed the one right next to his bed and Mike pulled the other one from across the room. El and Max climbed onto the end of his bed, careful not to sit on his legs. Will and Lucas stood behind Dustin and Mike’s chairs.

They all looked at him expectantly. He held his hands together in his lap to keep them from shaking. Looking into their familiar faces was heartbreaking. They weren’t his kids; they weren’t the ones he had failed to protect but he still felt like he owed them an apology anyway.

“We are sorry,” Eleven said, surprising him.

“We shouldn’t have sprung everything on you like that,” Dustin continued. “We were just so excited to see you.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I want you to send me back,” he said.

They were silent for a moment before they started shouting at him.

“Why should you get me?” he asked loudly over them.

They stopped yelling and stared at him.

“What do you mean?” Will questioned; his brow furrowed.

“If I’m really the only Steve left, why should your universe get to keep me? What about all the others who lost their Steve? They just have to live without him? Seems like fate or destiny or whatever is saying that no one should have me.”

“Their Elevens are probably looking, but we found you first,” Dustin said with finality. As if that would be the end of the conversation.

“What about your Steve? I’m supposed to replace him? Take his life like he never existed?”

“We’ll never forget our Steve. We’d like to tell you about him when you’re ready. We don’t want you to replace him, we know that you’re different people. But you’re still Steve in every way that matters. And we still need you,” Max answered looking him square in the eye, daring him to contradict her.

“How do you know?” Steve asked.

“Know what? That we need you?” Dustin looked at him like that was the stupidest question he could have asked.

Steve shook his head. “How do you know I’m ‘Steve’in the ways that matter? You don’t know me. I could be a bad person. I could have been working with Vecna for all you know. Clearly, I’m not like literally all the other Steve’s in existence. Maybe the whole point is that no Steve should have survived and I’m just an anomaly that needs to be put out of his fucking misery. Preferably in his own universe so he can go to whatever afterlife with his fucking family.”

They were quiet after that. He heard Will sniff back tears and his heart clenched tightly in his chest.

“When we finally found you of course we questioned whether or not it was right to bring you here. Our Steve died. We loved him. He was our friend – our family. We owe him everything! So, if you think for one second we were going to leave you there when we found out you were alone then you’re an idiot!” Dustin stood up and yelled.

“Bringing you here. Saving you. It feels like saving a piece of him, too. We are not letting you go. You are Steve Harrington…which means you belong with us,” Eleven said softly.

Dustin sat back down and reached out to place his hand gently on top of Steve’s. He looked down at their hands and then up at Dustin, who smiled hesitantly at him. He couldn’t smile back or take his hand, but he didn’t pull away either. That was all he had to give right now.  

He looked away again, jaw tense and eyes tight. The kids stayed and he eventually drifted off, still feeling Dustin’s warm hand on his.

---

Not a single part of the plan had gone their way and Steve didn’t know what to do. Eleven was down. She had lost consciousness and blood was trickling steadily out of her nose. She had been fighting Vecna and had started thrashing before she went still. Mike was screaming and shaking her. Robin, Nancy, and Jonathon were still throwing Molotov’s at The Mind Flayer but they were quickly running out. He couldn’t see Eddie and Dustin through the swam of bats separating them. There were too many places he needed to be, too many people he needed to protect. Steve froze. He didn’t know what to do.

Steve woke with a start, heart pounding and breath ragged. It was dark in the hospital room but there was enough light from the open window to see Eddie sitting in the chair beside him. He looked as good as he had the day before. Torn black jeans, a faded Metallica shirt and his hair was a messy tangle around his face. It was beautiful and painful to see him in the light of the moon, familiar and foreign in equal measure.

Blood dribbled out of the sides of his mouth; he was trying to speak even though he could barely breathe. His brown eyes were wide with pain, and Steve held him to his chest – 

Steve blinked away the memory and shook his head to clear it.

“Why are you here?” he asked Eddie.  

Eddie didn’t answer, just fiddled with his necklace. He noticed Steve’s eyes on it.  

“It means a lot to me,” he said.

“I know,” Steve said and Eddie made a ‘go for it’ gesture. Hands open wide and eyebrow quirked.

“Wayne gave it to you.” Steve paused and cleared his throat. “Gave it to my Eddie. It was after his parents dropped him off and left. Eds wouldn’t talk to him, no matter what he tried. So, he started playing his guitar… and it drew you–” Steve stopped and growled in frustration. “Drew him out. Wayne started teaching him and when he could play all the scales, he gave him his guitar. He handed him the pick and said, ‘You’re mine now and I’m never leaving you. That’s a promise.’”

Eddie was looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Well?” Steve demanded. “Is it the same?”

“No,” Eddie replied and Steve knew he wasn’t going to tell him why his necklace was important to him, because he hadn’t earned it. Steve felt another piece of his heart break. This Eddie didn’t know him. Didn’t trust him. He had no relationship with this Eddie, even though he shared a face with the person Steve had loved most in the world.

“Dustin said you want to go back.” Eddie leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“I do.” It wasn’t a question but Steve answered anyway.

“Losing Steve really messed Dustin up, more so than the others. They all took it hard, but Dustin? He didn’t speak for weeks, barely ate. Steve was his brother and he died in his arms; did you know that?”

Steve shook his head slowly.   

“When El told him about the parallel universes she had found it was the first time Dustin acted like himself since Steve died. But she couldn’t find one of you who bastards who didn’t fucking die saving someone else. And every time, it was like Dustin lost him all over again.”

Steve felt for Dustin, he really did. But their Steve had died saving the world. His death had meaning and purpose. The kids should be proud of that and move on. Steve didn’t have anything to ease his conscious or heartache. He had lost everything, and there was no meaning to it and only Steve left alive to remember.

Eddie was talking to him like he didn’t know grief, like he didn’t know what it felt like to lose a brother, and it really pissed him off. The anger Steve felt was delicious in its righteousness. Eddie thought he knew loss? Thought Dustin knew loss? What they felt was nothing but a spring breeze compared to the tornado that was Steve’s torment. He had lost everyone.

“I don’t know you and I don’t trust you,” Eddie said, echoing Steve’s earlier thoughts, “but you better not hurt those kids any more than you already have. I can appreciate that this is hard for you, but you do not take it out on them. Understood?”

Oh, he could appreciate that this was hard for him? Steve was done. He had Eddie’s face but he wasn’t Eds.

“How about fuck you, Munson,” Steve spit out.

Eddie leaned back in his chair, shocked by the vitriol of Steve’s reply.

He recovered quickly and sneered. “Well look at King fucking Steve, back again and not caring about anyone but himself.”

“Who the fuck is King Steve?”

Eddie blinked at him, clearly at a loss. Steve glared back.

“What about Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington?” Eddie asked and Steve couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips.

“That’s a stupid nickname.”

Eddie looked even more confused now.

“What were you like in high school?”

It was Steve’s turn to blink at Eddie, anger fizzling somewhat at the out of nowhere questions.

“Why would I answer you? Don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” he said and jerked his head towards the door.

Eddie’s eyes were deep brown pools as he looked intently at Steve, analyzing him, searching for something. Steve didn’t back down and held his gaze. He didn’t know what Eddie saw, but his eyes softened, just a little, before he turned and left the room. As soon as he was gone, the rest of Steve’s anger abandoned him and he dropped his head back against the pillows.

What the fuck was he doing?

Steve's eyes burned and he finally let out the tears that had been threatening to fall since he woke up in the hospital. He held his hands up to his mouth as his sobs broke free and brought his knees up to his chest, letting himself curl into his grief.

Part 3

[darkwitchingflower]

ITS BEEN A WHILE but here's things me and my friends have said as pjo character pt 4/5???

Annabeth: That's not very feminism of you (@wraith--2)

Hestia: maybe build like a life size bread bloke (@carpcranium)

Leo: Feels like my toes are bleeding but it's just cause they're defrosting (@wraith--2)

Percy to annabeth: Nooo pookie don't leave ill get her a spider abortion (friend not on tumblr)

Annabeth: I thought I'd die before seeing common sense in this gc (friend not on tumblr)

Jason: It's not boring to want money and to not be even more mentally ill (@indecisivenb)

Leo: Sure bud (me)

Piper: Jesus was not straight (@wraith--2)

Some random camper in the dining pavillion: Hes staring into my soup (@wraith--2)

Leo: Everyone needs a piece of Leo (friend not on gc)

Leo: Me dehydrated: must not drink sex juice (@wraith--2)

Jason: Me and Percy cockfight like 3 times (@chefchennan)

Piper: Harry x hermione

Ron x jesus or smth

Luna x whoever tf she ended with? (Friend not on tumblr)

Mr D to someone being given a quest: You don't have a choice

They don't have a choice

It's equality all around (me)

Piper: Im not a people pleaser, im a woman pleaser (friend not on tumblr)

Jason (idk why but i instantly thought Jason): saggy balls? (@chefchennan)

Thalia: From your local asexual xx (@wraith--2)

Thalia: Homicide on Pinterest is an interest (@wraith--2)

Chiron: oh that's nice to see! A camper with a smile! (My criminology teacher)

Annabeth: ye I made percy smile by telling him I didn't like him in greek! (Friend not on tumblr)

Apollo: Will! Thoughts on be crime do gay?! (@carpcranium)

Thalia about Frank: Me and him are still friends we shoot kids together yesterday (@chefchennan)

Will doing some form of doctor test idk: I'm gonna skedaddle into your scrotum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: I f**king love garlic bread yummers. Its gotten so bad that I eat is everyday. I sweat garlic butter and shit out logs of bread. It's an endless cycle and I remake the garlic break with what I unleash (friend not on tumblr)

Percy to Annabeth (leo helped after frank found them in the stables): Thine eyes are blessed with the sight of her. Her.

Who I wake to every morning and think of

Who I dream of at night

Aphrodite has forsaken me yet she is my light

The waves will roar and crash

And I know, she is always up for a smash (@wraith--2)

Leo to literally any girl with a pulse: When I see her thoughts are gone

And all I can do is simply long

She could never be mine

Yet still I pine (@wraith--2)

Rachel thinking abiut percy: Days will pass and the sun shall set

All the while I'd place a bet

That I'm still there

Twirling my hair

Dreaming of something that was never fair (@wraith--2)

Thalia: is is the most fun I've had in ages, I'm trying to teach the bot aromanticisum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: As a matter of fact I am definitely aromantic but thanks for the suggestion (@wraith--2)

Leo, he meant to say floppy disks: Have you ever seen one of those floppy dicks-...🤏 (friend not in tumblr)

Mr D: Anyways orgies (@wraith--2)

Will to Nico: She's like nah, no love hearts have an onion were like Shrek now (me)

Percy: When I go to sleep I'm going to dream about gay sea creatures aren't I? (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: It's okay I'm a big girl I cry into my pillow (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: ohhh right in the trust issues (@thatonelazyghost)

[just--some--prompts]

Sentence/Conversation Starters:

Random things my friends and I have said over the years on Discord

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

✦ — Person A: “Something on my face?” Person B: “Yeah it's called being too handsome, now stop it.”

✧ — "Two cups of chicken broth, two cups of heavy cream, and then add the lego's–"

✦ — Person A: -makes struggling noises- Person B: "Are you ok?" Person A: "Nope" Person B: "Ok then"

✧ — "Don't shoot me! I'm pleasantly thick!"

✦ — "You’re starting another cult. You bitch."

✧ — Person A: "I’m allergic to honey because I’m allergic to beeeeeeees." Person B: "That's… not how it works?"

✦ — "You were here, you were our side hoe!"

✧ — "The hetero's are upsetero."

✦ — "Why does he not have clothes!?"

✧ — Person A: "We're not clean in the eyes of God." Persona B: "You're not clean in the eyes of your bathtub. How can you be clean in the eyes of God?"

✦ — "Consent is hot when you're fucking my life"

✧ — Person A: "You tire me" Person B: "Then go to bed"

✦ — "You were so far in the closet you were finding Christmas presents from 4 years ago!"

✧ — "I want... to put a pop-tart in his mouth. Do you like smores'?"

✦ — "Life of crime? Naw. Life of shaking ass? Sure."

✧ — Person B: "You're the opposite of a friendly boy." Person A: "What's the opposite of a friendly boy?" Person B: "A bitch."

✦ — -takes a fighting stance- “I'm ready to bite yo ass"

✧ — "People not talking to me? Ideal."

✦ — "You are all a burden upon my shoulders"

✧ — Person C: “Ima eat yo fucking al dente ass ligaments u Italian deviant” Person B: “You're welcome to. End my meat lineage.”

✦ — "Lol, simping for some sleep"

✧ — "Cucked for a soft pillow"

✦ — "Get cucked consciousness"

✧ — Person A: -struggles to breathe- Person B: "Breathe" Person A: "Who needs air?" Person B: "You need air to survive." Person A: "Debatable…" Person B: ".......shut up"

✦ — "I like my men like I like my food...  Genetically modified."

✧ — “Bitch, you got crabs?”

✦ — Person A: “Suc-Fuck you!” Person B: “You were gonna say suck.” Person C: “You were gonna say suck,” -Person C leans in closer- “that’s kinda gay bro.”

✧ — Person A: "So what are y’all talkin about?" Person B: "Uh... we were talking about gender reveals but with spaghetti"

✦ — "It's a millennial thing innit? Eatin' ass?"

✧ — "I'd stuff my face with you."

✦ — “Screams in slut, what!?”

✧ — Persona A: “I’m not mad.” Person B: “Don’t lie.” Person A: “Shut your whore mouth!”

✦ — -hands slam down on table- "They’ve had sex together!!!!"

✧ — "Rip in shit, binch. Sloshed and forgotten."

✦ — “This is how I die. Tell people it was something cool and not spicy egg salad.”

✧ — Person B: "You don't eat your phalanges [Person A]. Rookie mistake."

✦ — "When the Campbell's chunky take chunk out of you."

✧ — "Excuse me, Ma'am, can you put down a wet floor sign? You're a bit of a hazard."

✦ — "My gamer arthritis is making it hard for me to hold my wife's hand"

✧ — "Is this roller camping? .............I'm gonna fuck your mom."

✦ — Person A: "I struggle with his emotions–" Person C: "So does he."

✧ — "I thought by ‘squirt’ you meant that the clowns had venom sacks."

✦ — "We learned our lesson, don't convert–"

✧ — "You fed me eggs, now the government can track my location!!!"

✦ — Person C: "Anyway, back to the topic at hand–" Person B: "God, I wish his throat was under my hand–what?"

[echo-the-great]

Arrow and Ace [part one]

So this story is inspired by these posts here so idea credits to the internet strangers that helped my last braincell come up with ideas lol. If anyone has questions or suggestions tell me in the comments! First fic I’m doing on here lol I hope it's okay.

Also - Axel is asexual and uses he/him, Avery is aromatic and uses she/her, just wanted to make sure characters were clear.

TW: swearing, cliffhanger because this post got long. (i hate them too I'm sorry)

the warnings will change w each post depending on what’s in the chapter, there will likely be more warnings in later chapters

Happy (very late) pride because you’re valid all year round

🧡💛🤍🩵💙

(Also my art![don't repost])

{Axel}

You know how people say, “be gay, do crime”? Well, what me and my best friend, Avery, do is be gay, fight crime. Well, I’m ace and shes aro, but that's really not the point. The point is that we fight crime like badasses.

We’re also in high school. And our school is…well, its certainly a place, that’s for sure.

At first it was heaven compared to middle school, although that place is universally a nightmare and a half, so the bar is pretty low. But after a while, everything just fell back into the same old school routine we’ve been stuck with since kindergarten;

Get up at an ungodly early hour in the morning, sit in a chair for several hours straight getting math shoved in your face, go home, shove more math down your throat and get minimal sleep while the school yells at you to sleep more.

Until, one day, the routine was broken.

I was at Avery’s house. We were playing cards and as I gathered them up after we finished a round, I pulled out an ace of hearts from the deck. “Look, it’s me.” I grinned as I held up the card for her to see. She rolled her eyes before grabbing her brother’s toy bow and arrow. “And me” she said simply as she stuck the suction cup arrow to my forehead. I just laughed and took the arrow off my face, flipping her off with my right hand.

She flipped me off right back with her left, laughing as well. We fist bumped, rings clinking together quietly and I went back to shuffling the cards.

It had been raining all afternoon pretty hard, but it sounded like it had stopped or at least slowed down. I glanced out the window, and the rain had in fact stopped. But that wasn't the only thing I noticed. There was a moving truck parked outside the house across the street.

"Hey, Avery?" I said, still looking out the window.

"Yeah? What's up?" she asked, coming over to me.

"Fresh meat." I joked with a slight smirk. She rolled her eyes at me and looked out the window, raising her eyebrows. "Huh. So it is." she turned to look at me. "Moving into the Robinson's old house. I wonder what the new people will be like." she shrugged and sat back down on her bed. "You think we should go say hi when they get all moved in?"

I only shrugged in response to her question because I knew full well she'd 'go say hi' with or without me.

"Wanna go out since the rain stopped?" I asked. She didn't really answer, just grabbed her phone off the desk and got up to go to the door. We both knew that was a yes, and we both knew what "go out" meant. I guess that's the kind of silent communication that comes with being best friends as long as we have. I followed her, grabbing my phone as well and placing my deck of cards back on her desk.

[to be continued...]

[ms-revived-frogs]

Ex-Boyfriend in Girls’ Bathroom

So gyns there’s an issue at my school about my ex-boyfriend using the girls’ bathroom, and I’m very frustrated right now so I’m just going to rant about it. 

For the past three days this week I’ve been seeing my ex-boyfriend using the girls’ bathrooms, same place, same time (in the morning, where I do my makeup). Seeing him there, for longer than a normal stay, was enough to make me feel sick. He’s a drug addict and a narcissist, so I can already imagine the things he does there. I wasn’t the only one made uncomfortable by this, since other girls have been seeing him around and felt confused and violated. I’ve known this guy for four years. I saw him come out as bi, and later, gay after we broke up. I didn’t believe he was gay though because he would call me hot even when we were just friends after our breakup. Today I was called down from my first period class unexpectedly. I was told that my friends and I weren’t allowed to talk about him, by the principal. I told her I was only talking about him because he was in the girls’ bathroom. She said that’s “not my business”. I said it is my business because I’m a girl in the girls’ bathroom, and he’s a boy. 

Then she said something that really intrigued me. She said “you don’t know how others identify”. This instantly caught my attention because I immediately knew where it was going to go. I asked her what she meant and she just repeated it. I asked her if my ex-boyfriend was now trans, and she said she couldn’t say due to privacy. So pretty much, yes. I asked her what she was going to do about him making girls uncomfortable and she said nothing. She said that I could use the single stall bathrooms (we have like, 3 in the whole school of 1200 kids!). I asked her if she would make all the girls uncomfortable by him use the single stall bathrooms. She said yes! We all have to accomodate for the one (1) guy. 

Then I brought it up to her that he’s not even making any changes to appear as a female. I asked her if any guy could just say he’s a girl and, without making any changes, be allowed into the girls’ bathroom. She said yes! She said she legally couldn’t restrict them. I was about to see red. We kept arguing for a bit until she said that she could send me home, after which I had to calm down since I’m a pretty academic student and I don’t want to be suspended and have that on my record. But the fact that she threatened to call home and send me home for the crime of being uncomfortable was insane. 

I’m making sure to tell as many people as I know at my school and most of my friends are talking about it as well. I’ve given up trying to be discreet about talking about him, and I’m not sure if she can even suspend me for simply talking about it. I’m not hurting him, clearly he feels comfortable with me around (in the bathroom I’m supposed to be in!). I haven’t talked to him in months and our friendship ended on a very bad note, so I can’t ask him if all this transition stuff is true. It’s also hard to look at him and see him that way. My grandma’s thinking of calling the school board, the next authority above the principal, and my aunt’s already called in. 

It’s just insane how the principal’s expecting all of us to change and accomodate for one person, when she can easily have him use the single stalls and have it be done with. But no, dozens of girls’ feelings of comfort aren’t worth as much as one boy’s.

[myemuisemo]

With April showers, Letters from Watson brings us the first installment of The Sign of the Four, a prospect that makes me quake. When I was a tot of eight years, reading the library's copy of The Boy's Sherlock Holmes with a creeping sense of guilt because I was not at that time (and have not been at any time before or since) a boy, I found The Sign of the Four... long. Very long. I was obviously too young for the concepts, even though I could make sense of the words. (That sums up a lot of my reading in that era.)

I'm also reeling from last week's "The Man with the Watches," an utter tragedy of "be gay, do crime."

What's striking me this time -- what with the introduction of Holmes' cocaine use and also the watch deduction that raises a wince and a shudder from anyone who remembers that BBC Sherlock happened -- is how Watson is being positioned (and I don't mean "positioned in the path of which bullet," though apparently he got hit by more than one while in India).

Cocaine

Watson is progressive! His objections to cocaine sound so mild to us in the twenty-first century, but in 1890, scientific opinion was just barely starting to turn away from seeing cocaine as a wonder drug. It was used for local anesthesia as well as for general pep. Queen Victoria drank Vin Mariani, a wine fortified with cocaine, and so did the Pope. Coca Cola contained cocaine until 1906. Sigmund Freud was a vocal proponent of cocaine for improving mood and performance, until he botched an operation in the early 1890s while high.

A couple hair-raising reads on this topic are Cocaine: The Victorian Wonder Drug and A Cure for (Anything) that Ails You: Cocaine in Victorian Medicine.

So Holmes' original audience would have seen him as an up-to-date scientist using a socially approved means of moderating his mood. His shooting up a 7% solution of cocaine is about equivalent to a 21st century person taking nutritional supplements that are meant to boost brain power.

After all the "say no to drugs" education in the American school system, that's so hard for me to get my brain around, but there we are. Holmes is doing something no more troubling than pouring a glass of whiskey and much more scientific.

Watson, therefore, can be read either as being right at the edge of shifting scientific opinion or as being a fussbudget.

Tinge it with romanticism

I'm firmly Team Watson when Holmes starts criticizing A Study in Scarlet:

He shook his head sadly. “I glanced over it,” said he. “Honestly, I cannot congratulate you upon it. Detection is, or ought to be, an exact science, and should be treated in the same cold and unemotional manner. You have attempted to tinge it with romanticism, which produces much the same effect as if you worked a love-story or an elopement into the fifth proposition of Euclid.”

The reader is being positioned here to view with contempt the exact features of the work that we probably enjoyed. Poor Watson!

Is it possible that some reviewers commented on the melodrama of the Lucy portions? Yes, and it'd be a valid point. Nonetheless, having experienced a good many math classes, I think the fifth proposition of Euclid might be improved by a rom--

wait.

Doyle, you magnificent bastard.

Flatland: A Romance in Many Dimensions was published in 1884. It wasn't a huge success, but it seems likely Doyle could have known it, and it did, in fact, mention a love story in a discussion of angles. Back when I read it in college (because if you "liked math," someone would inevitably give you a copy of Flatland), I missed the social satire but appreciated the geometry.

Watson is canonically an effective popular writer, and I refuse to denigrate him for that.

The Watch

First, Holmes substantially invents forensic science with his monographs on tobacco and on callouses.

Then we learn that Watson is a second son, which fits with his his training for a profession and choosing the army to help make his way.

Watson was not on great terms with his brother before his brother's death. Holmes doesn't explicitly deduce this, but it's there to be deduced. Holmes knew Watson's father was long dead, which could have come up in any number of casual ways. Holmes had no idea that Watson had a brother, so Watson:

Didn't mention the brother in any context, ever.

Didn't set up any framed daguerreotypes from his childhood nor any modern photos made with the collodion process. Having a posed family photo would have been so completely normal, as would being sent new photos by family members.

Never interrupted his routine to visit his brother while living with Holmes.

Did not attend his brother's funeral (unless it took place while Holmes was away) and did not wear a black armband for mourning in Holmes' presence. Neglecting mourning for a relative would have been a sign of serious estrangement.

Holmes is possessed of some level of tact in not expanding on this topic.

Watson is also nobody's fool: he knows there are ways to fool a mark with apparently miraculous knowledge.

The question in my mind is this: did Watson deliberately distract Holmes from asking what was the subject of the telegram?

[catinasink]

this is so bad im sorry in advance

i tie my mid length undercut hair into a messy bun, and slip on my red converse. my green orbs slid towards my laptop and i opened tumblr with my little hands. i was a tumblr girl, after all. i opened the one direction tag and scrolled through it, so many stupid fanfics of girls getting sold to them. my horrible mom shouted at me from downstairs and i turned down my sad indie girl playlist to lisen to her screech: y/n! come downstaris, you piece of shit! i'm selling you.

i gulped. selling me? i knew her drinking problem was bad, but the idea that she'd sell me.... oh well. maybe i'd be happier somewhere else. maybe. i walk sownstairs as quick as i can, my dainty frame moving swiftly, carrying my favourite fanfics in paperback version.

i walked into the porch to see a car. a car conaining the three members of boygenius? a band my friend was obsessed with, though she's shut herself away recently due to her intense unrequited crush on a girl she'd has 3 conversations with. i rolled my eyes. i recognised phoebe bridgers, but the others? not so much. i only liseded to REALLY underground indie music.

the shorter one turned to me and smiled. hey. i'm jb. nice to meet you. i smiled at her. and your name is? oh, y/n. sorry. i could feel myself getting flustered. i looked past her into the car. oh, that's luce. she's my.... partner. in crime? i joked. oh, you listen to her music? no? jb looked confused. she decided not to say anything. i looked back at lucy in the car. can i sit in the passanger seat? sure.

i looked at lucy's platform heel press into the accelerator, i wished it was me in that moment. i blinked. was i.... gay now? i shook my head a little. i wasn't... gay. i liked men! i knew that. maybe i was bicurious?

we drove away to the BG mansion where they kept the other girls. jb put her tattooed hand on my thigh as we drove. what does.. why does it say hard work on your hands? what are your hands working so hard doing? and why is there a tooth on your wrist. are you one of those lesbians that are ino vampires?

she laughed at me. i was taken aback at her blunt reply. maybe i am. none of your busuness, unless you want it to be. ok. i said. be like that. jeez.

i looked back at phoebe, whose bleached blonde hair blew in the wind, making her look like a loser member of a boyband from the 2000s. i was.... kinda into it. i wanted to slap myself in the face. this could not be happening. what a crazy day; sold to a band only to have a gay awakening? they never do this in the oned fanfics, i grumbled.

she glared at me." i can;t believe i'm going to look after her while you two just flirt with everyone. i'm meant to be the one that does that. " i looked at her in surprise. she would be looking after me? i tried to stop glancing down at her shirt, which she was wearing without a bra. why were girls suddenly so much prettier? i tried to shake myself out of it, but when i tried to remember an attractive man, i found myself empty handed. wait. i had a boyfriend. what was his name? i know it started with a j....

i give up trying to remember. i'm leaving anyway. so, will anyone else be there? at the mansion, i mean. i don;t wanna get lonely!!

help???

[grumpybunny-edith]

Gwen's Bunny HRT - Month 1 (Part 2)

I learned this trick a little while ago for smiling at the camera: just think about something that makes you laugh. I didn’t have to work very hard to find something - everything Rae had just said had left me smiling maybe too much. I turn on my camera, turn my head to show off my ever-so-slightly longer ear, and make it a point to let my teeth sit on my lip, even as my first impulse was to hide them. 

Opening the chat, I saw the last thing sent — it was a selfie from Delilah, her cheeks and chin covered in long, grayish-black fur. 

thebuildingisonfire: Decided not to shave for the last couple days. Feels good. 🔥

It looks good too. Combined with the changes to her face shape giving her more of a snout, she’s starting to look more like Rae and Ashley than Edith and I. If that’s even a rational comparison to begin with. I do my best to stop comparing myself to my friends (again) and start typing.

wen-kutesuli: Hey everyone! Rae reminded me today was my one month, so... Here’s a quick update! It looks like it got to my teeth first, which... Is what it is, but my ears started getting longer recently too! No fur or anything yet, but. Big things 🥳

Rae is quick to jump on things, responding again almost instantly. 

raeraebun: YAAAAA THAT’S MY GIRLLLLLLLL you look so good!! The first half an inch of so many more :DDD 

grumpybunny-edith: !!! That’s huge! Starting with teeth must be tough :( how’s the pain been 

wen-kutesuli: It’s been... manageable? grumpybunny-edith: oof. Good luck lol  pink-lightning: Edith, don’t. That’s wonderful news, Gwen 🩷

I can’t help but wonder what Edith meant by that. It hadn’t been easy for the last couple weeks — as it turns out, growing your teeth is at best super uncomfortable — but it had been bearable as long as I didn’t forget my painkillers. Is she just trying to scare me? Is it gonna get way worse? Or does she just have an embarrassingly low tolerance for pain? 

pink-lightning: You look happy.  pink-lightning: Have you ever sent a picture smiling before? 

I scroll up to look at the picture again at Ashley’s statement. I’m a little surprised at how much I’m smiling; I hadn’t even noticed when I took it. I’m also surprised that she’d notice something as small as how often someone smiles in pictures. I make a mental note of that, feeling embarrassment creep up about it — is it not normal to feel a little bit weird about a smile? I do my best to hide my feelings.

wen-kutesuli: I guess not lol I didn’t notice! raeraebun: You NEED to do it more. you look SO CUTEE grumpybunny-edith: fr. depriving us of that shit should count as a crime tbh  thebuildingisonfire: okay but like. Be gay do crime  raeraebun: not this crimee raeraebun: we love following the law in this specific moment grumpybunny-edith: Yeah this crime is like. Stealing from a small business  thebuildingisonfire: just on principle, omfg =_=

The chat stops for a few minutes. I’m too giddy to care much about it, pacing my room on my toes and going fast enough to feel the wind in my ears. Of course they’re happy for me, why wouldn’t they be? Their pride... kinda becomes my own. I keep jumping around, catching glimpses of myself in my mirror, and it makes me so happy. The light from outside shines through my ears like a tulle curtain, making them shine. I don’t even have to imagine I have a tail to feel this giddy about it all. I put on my favorite KKB album and hop around my carpeted floors, enjoying the simple joy of having a body becoming more like what it’s supposed to be. 

I don’t notice the next message until several minutes later, the buzzing of my phone muted by the carpet. I prance back to it only intending to play a song over again. 

thebuildingisonfire: dealing w any like, behavioral stuff? Or are we still waiting on that lol  raeraebun: I didnt realize you were taking over scheduling the sleepover, del xD thebuildingisonfire: oh no definitely not that’s still your job lmaooo thebuildingisonfire: just curious I swear

I keep hopping around my room as I try to come up with an answer. I don’t feel anything like what the information outlined, and definitely nothing that would warrant one of those sleepovers they’re always talking about. My feet are a little bit sore from all the moving, but I still have more energy to get out, so I type and jog at the same time. 

wen-kutesuli: I don’t think I’ve gotten any yet?  grumpybunny-edith: Oh my god Delilah you can’t just ask someone how horny they are pink-lightning: Yeah. Obviously that’s Edith’s job.

I drop my phone. I don’t pick it up. I’ve stopped in my tracks. Of course I know what’s coming, but it’s hard to believe it’ll happen to me. Sure it’s exciting, but I haven’t exactly had all that many... you know. It’s just hard to think about as something real, let alone something happening so soon. And, just, logistically it all seems pretty inconvenient; “Missing work for sex so often you get fired for it” seems more Delilah’s speed than it does mine, and I’m not sure I want to find out whether or not that’s correct. I shift my feet in the carpet nervously, feeling the tiny fibers through my soles. I press up onto the balls of my feet, trying to adjust to the way my feet are going to move within the next year. When I move to join my phone on the floor I push my heels down first, sitting down like a rabbit is supposed to. 

raeraebun: its not that unreasonable yall, “behavioral stuff” doesnt have to mean horny  raeraebun: its just cool to know the drugs work and that youre happy w them gwen :))  pink-lightning: And if you’re not, you can always let us know. We don’t want anyone having to go through that kind of thing alone.  grumpybunny-edith: That’s kinda the whole reason this chat exists, lol  grumpybunny-edith: Also, that’s what she said. 

I giggle for the amount of time it takes to understand what Edith meant, at which point I’m overrun with blush. I can barely fathom the idea of one of them actually wanting to... Well. “Help me” with that kind of thing. I’m well aware they do it with each other, I’ve just never been that type before? It’s like being in line for a rollercoaster you have no knowledge of beyond being able to hear the things people say once they’ve gotten off. 

pink-lightning: Seriously. I know we all only just met you in the grand scheme of things, but we are here to help in whatever capacity you want. I’m trying to build the space I would’ve needed when I was in your shoes. If there’s anything you need to talk about, please let us know. Even if it feels kinda weird.

raeraebun: absolutely!! We’re here for ya bestie <333

Ashley is so sincere it almost makes me anxious. I walk across the room, heels sinking into the carpet, and pull the packet the doctor gave me out of my desk drawer. I sit on the floor with it. 

“Descent into sexual depravity” “Unavoidable, frequent joint pain that will last for years”

“ near-constant sex drive which interferes with life at nearly every turn” 

“Irreversible”

“Loss of self”

I throw the packet to the side, my lower back numb like something was trying to burrow out of it, thrashing viciously from side to side. 

I open the chat again, staring at Ashley’s message with my phone in my hairless hands. My nails are short and fragile, not clicking against the screen as I type. 

wen-kutesuli: I’m gonna be okay, right?  grumpybunny-edith: You’re gonna be just fine 💙 pink-lightning: Absolutely. And whenever it’s not, let us know.  thebuildingisonfire: we got you  raeraebun: totally!!!

I look between my screen and the discarded packet. I feel wide awake in the sunset but crawl into bed anyway, finding comfort in the blankets over my head. I really, really consider asking for some company, but I’m not sure how much I want to be seen right now.

---

Prev - Next

[quietwingsinthesky]

hey bug,

what do you think of

Gayest Supernatural Character, Quarter-Finals

drama and who do you believe is the truest queerest character in supernatural?

i think all spn polls drama is nonsense. it's fun until people start being actual assholes about stuff, and a poll like 'gayest spn characters' does make the worst elements of the fandom get overly aggressive trying to prove their claim to the queerest blorbo. a lot of people here have attached an unhealthy amount of their own identity to their favorite characters (and specifically, to a very narrow perception of said favorite characters) that leads to them lashing out when they feel that character disrespected, as it feels like a slight against them, personally. deeply strange and uncomfortable behavior when we should all just be talking about how crowley kisses men on screen for fun.

anyway, 'truest queerest character of supernatural' is a bit of a mixed bag because there's two options here. which character is the queerest textually, as in, was allowed to be openly queer and express queer love the longest and most often. and which character's subtextual narrative was most reflective of queerness, which is what a lot of people are arguing about the most. because you can't really argue about the first one. like. the only queer character who got to be queer, openly and constantly and for multiple seasons, make out with multiple women on screen, and not be treated like her sexuality is a joke is charlie bradbury. and we can talk about how well or poorly she's written as a character, but in supernatural, she is like a fucking lesbian beacon. and she's still bare fucking minimum in a cast whose other notable queers consist of 1) joke characters we are meant to mock for the fact that they are queer, 2) one-off characters who either die or in the case of later seasons where killing off gay people instantly because slightly less okay, do not get to express a lot of their queerness on screen before being shunted off to never scare the largely cishet audience again, or 3) villains. just like. villains. i know we love this about them, i know we're all gay little freaks here on the lucifer stan blog who enjoy that he's Like That about sam. but the fact that a lot of the villains on supernatural are queer-coded if not just openly queer is. :/ not great, folks.

and now we get to what my answer is for number 2) most subtextually queer. because like. it isn't charlie. charlie's queerness is not a part of her journey in any way. which is, kind of refreshing? but also very evidently the result of the writers not actually knowing how to integrate a lesbian into their story other than like. let her kiss women. charlie is written about as deep as a puddle 90% of the time, and that's the real crime we should talk about with her at the end of the day. getting distracted. anyway. for subtextual queerness. i mean, for me, it's sam. quite obviously, it's sam. sam the othered, sam the defiled, sam the broken and never pure. sam in his struggles trying to connect to a religion and a god who rejects him. sam who is and always will be the devil himself even when he proves that he can overcome him. sam who cannot win, no matter how quiet he makes himself and how much he acquiesces to the demands of the patriarchal family structure he's been slotted into.

hm. sam who knows he's dying, and sam who refuses to take a chance at life if it means burying everything about himself he's tried to construct and rising again as someone new.

i don't think you can honestly argue that sam's story doesn't resonate queerly. and i know this because most of the arguments i've seen against it have been "well, but sam (or sometimes "jared") feels too straight to be queer in any way". to which the only response can be THEY'RE ALL STRAIGHT. ALL OF THEM. THERE ARE NO QUEER MAIN CHARACTERS ON SUPERNATURAL. and yes, i am intentionally including castiel in there, for the people who argue his status as a main character. no. i don't think a love confession -> death pipeline is particularly compelling as a queer narrative, least of all because his potential queerness has always been treated like a joke or a reason to emasculate him, and to actually explore what it means that castiel loves dean winchester would take a much better show than supernatural could ever be. and it still wouldn't be a show that makes people happy, if it was honest, because it'd be a show about the slow and steady decline of one broken man constantly proven right about his paranoia and his abuse and his control issues, and one broken angel who has set him up as a god because he never really learned what free will was, just learned that following dean winchester means he has it.

[midnight-in-eden]

This is what I meant in this post about being an angry atheist. I was taught to think anger was bad. I was taught to place moral value judgments on emotions. And anger like angry atheists have was especially bad, because it was linked with pride.

And you know what? It’s true!! My anger is my pride saying I should never have been treated like this. My anger is my self worth saying I am worth more than this, and not because of my Father, because of me. My anger is my protectiveness for myself and people like me saying The abuse and trauma have gone on too long.

For my ancestors who left their homes and walked on bloody blistered feet for a lie. For the girls in my family tree who were treated like cattle, collected in a herd for their husband. For the people of color denied access to exaltation and eternal families through the priesthood and temple ban, for the queer people who are still denied those things. For boys at BYU who underwent electroshock and induced vomiting “therapy” for the crime of being gay. For every child abused by a bishop or other leader. For every woman who wanted a career and gave it up because she was told her only priority was having and raising children. For every young man who felt pressured to go on a mission or face rejection and soft shunning from his community. For children who were denied baptism because their parents were gay. For everyone who was ever traumatized by a violent and invasive temple ceremony they weren’t warned about ahead of time. For all the people in poverty who faithfully gave their mite even when it was the only money they had. For every non-believing kid who’s sat through self righteous lectures from emotionally abusive parents. For every person who was ever coerced to sit in a closed office with an adult man and confess masturbation or anything else sexual, especially the children who were made to give these “confessions.” For every girl who grew up feeling like her body and sexuality were a dirty and shameful thing because of all the modesty culture and law of chastity lessons. For all the kids who grew up scared by the story of Abraham and Isaac, for all the kids who felt like their faith wasn’t good enough because they knew they couldn’t do what Nephi did to Laban.

I’m angry about historians who were excommunicated for telling the truth. I’m angry about people excusing racist and sexist scriptures. I’m angry about men telling me they’ve read about polygamy and came to terms with it, so I should too. I’m angry about queer people being called enemies of the family and signs of Satan’s increasing power. I’m angry about being manipulated. I’m angry about the abusive relationship I was taught to have with God, how I was told I would never make it without him, that I shouldn’t trust my own understanding but only what God (and his prophets) said, that I should be grateful he gave me this opportunity to have trials, to suffer, because it would turn me into someone better, someone he could accept living with him. I’m even angry for the girls who sadly took out their second pair of earrings based on the whim of an old man.

Yes, I’m angry! Aren’t you? Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it such a relief, such a gasp of fresh air straight into your lungs, to allow yourself to be angry about things you know are wrong?

[cbk1000]

@aemelia is standing over me cracking a bullwhip and forcing me to write about two morons having sex on a luxury train, so here's another little preview of that. The other two previews posted earlier can be found here and here.

But Merlin ruined it for him, by anticipating what had been a brilliant plan, and therefore one which ought to have been safely out of the reach of his brain. All morning Arthur avoided him by moving swiftly along to another car when he saw the dark head entering his, and answering Morgana’s Where the hell are you texts with, Sorry, you must have just missed me till she gave up even sending them. 

Then when everyone disembarked at the village, he hurried back to their room, and found Merlin sat on the scene of the crime. He froze. Merlin was fiddling the phone in his hand all round, but looking up steadily at him, with unrelenting eye contact. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Arthur stuck his hands in his pockets. “I just came back for a shower.”

“Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m here. Thought you might not get off the train with everyone else, considering the fact that I haven’t seen you all morning even though we share a room and we’re on a train with very limited hiding places.”

Arthur shifted from foot to foot. “I wasn’t hiding, I was having a chat with that couple from California.”

“Oh yeah?” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “So you were stationary, in one spot, chatting to this couple, and I missed you every time I went through every car looking for you? That’s interesting.”

Arthur looked away.

Merlin sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I can ask Gwaine if he’ll switch rooms. I could stay with him, and you with Morgana.”

“And how are you going to explain why we’re switching rooms?”

“I’ll just say you snore and I forgot my earplugs. Morgana has those earbuds that play white noise or whatever. She’ll be fine.”

“Well, I won’t; I can’t stay with Morgana. We’ll kill one another.”

“Fine, then I’ll stay with Morgana.”

“You’re going to share a bed with Morgana?”

“We’re both adults. We can platonically share a bed.”

“Yes, you certainly have a stellar track record of that,” Arthur pointed out, waspishly. 

“Well, Morgana’s dating Gwaine, and she’s a lot smarter than you, so I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Merlin snapped.

“What do you mean ‘smarter than me’, like it’s my fault, when it was your idea!” Arthur cried.

“Well, you could have said, ‘No, Merlin, don’t suck my dick’ like a reasonable person. I’d been drinking and I hadn’t been laid in a while, so you had our brain cell, and you should have used it.”

Arthur frowned down at him. “So you did it because you were drunk?” 

Merlin rubbed his face with both hands. “I wasn’t drunk drunk, but do you think I would have done that sober? When you said you’d never come from a blowjob, the alcohol took over my mouth, and I just blurted that out, and then when you didn’t tell me to fuck off like a sane person, my dick took over from there.”

“So you’re saying that you, an entire, whole, adult man, are not in charge of your own actions?”

“When I haven’t had sex in over six months and someone offers to blow me, no, I am not in charge, my penis is.” He was striving for a light tone, but must have seen on Arthur’s face that it was not landing as he had meant it to; that he was doing more harm than good: all of which was being done to Arthur’s throat, which felt suddenly as hot, and tight, and tremulous as it had in the dining car. He rubbed his face again. “Look, you have to stop avoiding me. We’ve been mates over a decade, and we’ve never let being dumbarses fuck it up before. So either we switch rooms, or one of us kips on the sofa, but we don’t tiptoe round one another, or duck into another car all week every time we see the other one coming, because we were horny.” He clasped his hands between his knees. “It’s just getting off. Stimulation is stimulation and all that. I mean, it was a bit gay for you to blow me, but other than that, you’re fine.”

Arthur scowled at him.

“You kept your socks on, and that’s the first rule of ‘no homo.’”

“Oh, is it?” Arthur snapped. “Well, you had yours off, so what does that mean?”

“That I’m comfortably bisexual and I don’t have to have a crisis about getting a blowjob from a man.”

“I rather think the problem is specifically which man gave you the blowjob.”

[ronearoundblindly]

What if Ari comes to pick us up from work and a male coworker who is just being nice holds the door open and we laugh at some ridiculous joke and have 0 interest in said Co worker we have Ari but Ari being Ari ...what does he do

Well well well if it isn't ye ol' green-eyed monster fic time...

Warnings for SMUT but it's short and sweet with very vague language... 😉 MINORS DNI. *also not edited

Quick and Dirty, a Bedrock and Blueprints drabble

New guy? I think he looks like DIS:

So he's definitely cute, but hey, you're dating Ari--Ari who's known you for a decade and really should trust you by now.

After that incident of Philip's return though, Ari's been extra protective. He has this moment of seeing this guy. You're laughing, then looking very closely over his shoulder at something he's showing you on his phone, and Ari's sitting in his truck, dirty from his day's work.

This dude is pristinely dressed, well-groomed, articulate, and funny (ok, he's assuming the last two, but whatever). Ari is...super rough around the edges, so he wonders if that's something you like better. He doesn't say anything to you when you get in the truck, though, just asks if you had a good day.

"Great day actually," you beam.

Ari smiles but is a little jealous that greatness wasn't because of him

It's all pretty fine and forgotten until one day you have to stay late at work, can't take your regular bus, and instead of waiting the extra forty minutes for the later (less frequent) bus, you accept a ride home from Boyd.

That's his name. Ari grumbles it back to you when you explain. You didn't tell Ari to pick you up because who knew how long the meetings would take, so he's home and cooking dinner when you are dropped off in some very, very swanky car that Ari just barely sees drive away.

Boyd.

Ari can't help but be a grumpy old fart the rest of the evening. Randomly, mid-movie on the couch, Ari asks, "so is this Boyd married?"

You shift up to look at him, head resting in Ari's lap.

"Or gay? Maybe both?" He's trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

"I don't think so, why? Want his number," you tease.

"He's just very...clean."

"Oh yikes. Lock him up. That's a war crime in this house, I know."

"I only meant--" what the hell does Ari mean? "--he...is very clean."

"Yeah," you exaggerate, sitting up and leaning one arm all way across Ari's lap, landing beside his hip. "You said that."

His stormy blue eyes meet yours in the dim light of the TV. He's not going to ask if you think his beard is unkempt or his hair is too long or his clothes are too--oh.

Your other hand rubs up and down the seam of his sweatpants.

"So if he's clean, then you...are dirty?" Your voice stays low while Ari's head falls lax against the cushion and his breathing turns ragged. "Is that right, Levinson?"

"I...I just..." Ari sighs heavily, growing thick and hard under your strokes. He stares at the ceiling until he feels you straddle him.

You whine his name just the way he likes, and he grips at your thighs and pulls you close just the way you like.

Harsh and heated friction builds between your bodies. Silent minutes later, Ari moans your name in warning, licking his dry lips, but before he can close the distance between you, your fingers are in his hair and pull.

"How could you think that? Huh? You know I love you, don't you? Know I love you here with me."

Ari grunts, trying to nod against your hold.

"Yeah, baby. You know that?" You grind long, slow, full-length rolls across his bulge. "I love you, and I love you--" bent forward, your lips ghost his "--dirty."

Ari's torso tenses beneath you. He's keeping it together but just barely.

"Can you do that for me, Ari?"

Right into his lips, right before you capture him in a kiss, you finish him off. "Make--" grip "--me--" grind "--dirty."

Done. He's done.

Into your mouth, he moans, "fuuuuuu, hhnnnnnyy," and his arms circle your waist as you continue sweet, gentle rolls against him.

After you stop and the kisses become weak pecks here and there, your fingers still massaging his scalp, Ari finally opens his eyes.

His blown pupils and dopey smirk look good on him. He feels pretty great, too. Dirty, sure, but it's a great night. It's early yet.

A few months later, there's a stupid work party.

Ari wears the nicest clothes he has, but they're still old...like he feels.

Ari also feels like a bit of a dud next to you all dolled up and beautiful, a feeling which compounds when Boyd shows up in a perfectly tailored suit and no date.

Ari avoids the introduction for as long as possible, but eventually, your social circulation in the crowd lands him right there with Boyd's hand out expectantly.

"Mr. Levinson, so nice to meet you," Boyd starts with surprisingly genuine excitement.

"Likewise," Ari says tightly.

"You're basically a legend around here," the man continues.

What?

"Can't fix a damn thing myself, but, man, the way your girl talks about you--all that stuff you've done with y'all's house? I mean I wish I could do half of that shit." Boyd holds a hand up to his mouth. "Oh, man, sorry. You curse?"

Ari snorts, loudly and enthusiastically. "Yes, I fucking do."

He'd never thought about it that way, never considered all the stuff he could do that Boyd can't. Ari assumed that since you and Boyd share similar careers, you'd be similar to each other, but this dude is bouncy and chaotic, probably best experienced in small doses.

It's the best scenario he could ever hope for.

"Well," Ari drawls, grinning as he brings his whisky to his lips but doesn't sip, "anytime you need somethin' fixed..."

He likes Boyd. Boyd the Boy. The Boy who can't maintain his own house. The Boy who knows you're Ari's girl. The Boy who addressed him as 'Mr. Levinson.' Yes, he likes Boyd.

Suddenly, the party isn't so bad, and Ari wonders aloud if Boyd plays poker.

Later, while you lean on his shoulder on the ride home, you let out a long breath.

"Told ya so," you mumble, "my dirty, old man."

Oh okay. That's how you're playing it? Ari might just have a few more points to prove tonight...

bwahahahahahahaha

[Main Masterlist]