#he probably didn't even recognize her she was less involved than i was it was probably more Random teen girl glaring at me in public but

[chainsawpng]

CRAZY.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

can you do mike schmidt x reader with abby trick-or-treating?

NOTE: This takes place after the movie

........

"Come on, slowpokes! Keep up!"

"Abby, don't go too far!"

"Relax, Mikey. She's just going two houses over. There's other kids already there. See?" You calmly pointed out the decorated home that Abby was rushing towards, disappearing into the crowd of kids who complimented her costume.

She was dressed as her "friend": a yellow version of Freddy Fazbear complete with a mask she painted, a yellow undershirt, and a black vest that was a tad bit too big for her.

Curiously enough, she removed one ear from the mask and covered one eye with black paint. But it didn't bother either of you too much, thinking she wanted to do something unique and creative with her costume.

Considering everything that happened at Freddy's Pizzeria, you were surprised that she wanted to dress up as one of the characters at all.

Yet neither you nor Mike recall ever seeing a "Golden Freddy". Not even backstage.

But you did, however, meet a golden Bonnie...and the person wearing his suit was none other than the bastard who murdered those poor children, including Garrett.

You just hoped their souls were finally at peace now, and that William rotted away in that suit, never to be found again. It was a rather fitting punishment--the perfect karma someone as sadistic as him.

Sometime later, you started dating Mike after you both officially quit that job, found something new to save his home from eviction, and helped him regain custody over his sister (Doug was more than eager to write you both off as her legal guardians).

He still had his nightmares, of course, that now involved visions of a decayed Springbonnie suit chasing him through that same forest. But you were always there to wake him up, cuddling together and helping him fall back to sleep without needing to down a bunch of pills.

He's genuinely been trying to depend on them less and less. Abby notices it, too, and has incorporated you in her drawings now, standing beside her happy-looking brother.

It's her own way of saying "thank you", and you accept it wholeheartedly.

When Halloween rolled around, you and Mike got too work decorating the house, surprising his sister after you picked her up from school. She did mention how he used to do the "bare minimum" before you came along.

And by that, she meant that Mike only ever put a jack o'lantern outside, a bowl filled with cheap candy, and a sign that said "take one".

Well this year...you made sure to buy better candy bars for the kids this year and add the finishing touches to the outside of the house. After that, you both took her trick-or-treating.

While she was occupied at the current house, you and Mike stood back to admire all the decorations and other costumes people were wearing.

"I honestly thought that whole near-death experience with the robots would've scarred her for life, but...she's been doing better." He remarked. "A lot better. It's like nothing ever happened."

"Well..she did help those kids find justice. They never knew their killer was standing right in front of them..they just needed that little push to finally recognize him."

"I'm surprised she hasn't told the whole story to her teacher yet."

"...because she knows we'd probably get some phone calls about that." You chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand.

Then you noticed Abby leaving the house, running down the steps and about to cross the street to reunite with you-

"Hey, hey, hey." Mike let you go to put both hands out, and she stopped in her tracks, mere inches from the road. "What did we talk about before we left the house, Abs?"

"...look both ways before I cross the street?"

"Exactly."

Huffing, she quickly glanced to her left and right, deeming it safe to cross. And only then did she resume her sprint, removing her mask once she was in front of you. "[Y/n], look at all these chocolate bars I got so far!"

You looked into the pillowcase, nodding in agreement. "Wow, you did get a lot! I sure can't wait to gobble them all up when we get home." A coy smirk appeared on your lips, watching her eyes widen in shock.

"Nooooooo, they're mine!" Protectively holding the sweets to her chest, she pouted and looked to Mike for help, yet he simply shrugged.

"I dunno, Abby.." It was hard for him to hide his own smile. "[Y/n] and I gotta make sure they're safe to eat, so we're gonna take one bite of every single bar-"

"Now that's just cruel!" She stomped her foot.

"We're only joking, sweetie." With a chuckle, you ruffled her hair, watching as she put her mask back on. "I think the next street over has a little haunted house maze. Do you wanna go check it out?"

She perked up and nodded in response, heading down the sidewalk with a spring in her step. You linked arms with Mike and followed her, looking around at the rest of the decorations.

But your eyes soon lingered on your boyfriend's soft brown ones, and he gazed back at you for a few moments. "What?"

"Nothing." You shook your head, smiling lightly. "I'm just...glad to be with you."

"So am I." He kissed you on the cheek. "Thank you, truly..Abby deserves a good Halloween."

"I think we all deserve a good one."

Unbeknownst to the three of you, there was a peculiar figure standing across the way. He was hanging out near the trees, almost perfectly blending in with the surrounding darkness so that nobody else could notice him:

A large mechanical bear with dirty yellow fur, one ear, and one glowing blue eye, smiling fondly at Abby and her costume.

It's good to see that she had not forgotten.

[mandy4ever69420]

kinda to your point on ur post ab mandy it annoys me when ppl say that deleted (i think) scene where mickey’s like ‘don’t ever hit women’ is like #MaleFeministGoals when it’s just a pretty patriarchal view that women are weak and inferior and can’t fight back. when ppl edit that scene of all the boys going ‘pedophile hunting’ in like a badass way i just sigh bc like guarantee most of those men have assaulted or harassed women before, we know terry has. and that was the point of that scene to me, that it’s not about saving victims or whatever but about being a white knight and feeling good for defending the ‘vulnerable’ and what is their property. that’s why the scene where they find out it’s a woman is important. they don’t think women are capable of power so they don’t care.

anyway the writers decided they hated women after s2 so im sure they meant that as male feminist goals but i prefer s2 mickey’s ‘you don’t know my sister until you’ve fought my sister’ vibes. bc yeah. he sees her as an equal.

yeahhh!!! i don't recall the scene specifically so yes it was probably a deleted scene. it's a funny balance on the 'dont hit women' thing bc i myself for example know i would react SIGNIFICANTLY worse just on a gut instinct way to seeing a male character like mickey hit a woman the same way he hits men (specifically - when motivated by speech rather than retaliatory strikes, lol). & like part of this is due to the associations on a societal level with how much violence is directed at women by men in order to enforce patriarchy. male violence against women as a cultural phenomenon rather than an individual one is just more widespread and harmful, which is represented by individual occurrences. hmm. but part of it is just. how misogyny works. & the gut instinct level that it just feels worse to see.

there's not NOT a point to "don't hit women" like, WRT mickey's job in s4 to enforce against violent clients (mr patel) he's recognizing the pattern of someone who thinks a sex worker is less human, and wants to play out his fantasies about doing misogynistic harm to women through someone he can "get away with" hurting. also, because it's his job that svetlana specifically told him to do. lol

this also has to do with like... you'll see in shameless there are plenty of male abusers (kenyatta, terry, jody, kash & ian's abusers, also tommy is still canonically a pedophile, btw), but women who act abusively or are sexually coercive are much more likely to be sympathetic characters: mandy, debbie, karen, sveltana (with kev and v, the mickey thing is different. though i want to point out in s4 she did try to isolate him from ian as a support system by violence).

part of this is shameless falling into the idea that a woman doing it is "less bad" even as they critique that idea in other parts of the show. (also, they don't always seem to notice when something is assault) but the contexts in which these things happen ARE in fact really sad and messed up for these girls as well, & IMO there's a point here about how usually even SA, which people have very strong feelings about, can be done for sadass reasons. & that these are things you CAN recover and improve after - esp when willing (debbie having learned and telling carl he was assaulted - intent to prevent or sympathize with this), or when the other people involved are okay emotionally or forgiving

i imagine most people would like me be extremely unnerved if this was a point made using male characters even half as much. even though, like, technically it'd still be true. but man! i would not fucking like it if debbie and carl's plots were swapped. i refer specifically to how debbie treated derek delgado, which she did know was manipulative, not to how she acted with matt, who was grooming her and she didn't understand her behavior. ALSO: there's the aspect here that telling this story with a male character would've read SIGNIFICANTLY more as making excuses - as much as women perpetrating abuse is not taken as seriously, women are also held to much higher moral standards & hated more virulently for misdeeds. it'd look like a propaganda piece about how misogynistic violence is not that bad, actually!

i was pretty surprised and pleased that shameless was so on the ball with the 'pedo hunter' thing & establishing that terry milkovich is absolutely a pedophile. it's not that everyone with violent fantasies about attacking rapists is secretly compensating for one themself, but that a lot of these people have blindspots in recognizing their own behavior & are more excited about doing violence in a morally Righteous and protecting-our-women self-affirmation type of way. Also sometimes they are overdoing it to cover shit up.

come to think of it, i wonder if the reason so many people seem to have faith in mickey's brothers being "decent" is to do with the "i hate rapists, too" (s2) line? -- we know mickey is in fact protective & motivated by care wrt mandy & ian because we know him & we see the contexts he acts in & how he acts, but we have no such indications about anybody else having specific standards, rather than knowing there's a category of "bad person" (and person means man, in this mindset) that it's satisfying and righteous to violently retaliate against. also, doesn't sandy refer to mickey's brothers getting drunk and crawling into her bed? she was kind of referring to theft. but. like. well anyway

i know i really enjoyed watching mickey harass kash (satisfying) & i think when it comes to getting back at ian for "messing with mandy" there is something to be said there for protecting a girl you love against misogyny/misogynistic violence where possible. but you can't brush aside that retaliatory violence against sexual assault, especially mob violence (especially from a family full of white supremacists, good lord) has a really ugly self-serving history & doesn't necessarily indicate respect. & that is what was being invoked. a viewer should be put off by this or have a mixed response (again, the "dont hurt my sister thing" can also just. be nice) & not just because the info these guys were working with was inaccurate. also TBH i think you miss out on how impressive it IS that mickey is as good at boundaries and gentleness as he is if you refuse to understand the context of how bad violent mobs tracking down alleged rapists are and can be.

it's always really bothersome when people react to mickey's pimping as like a Big Misogyny like, not just because that's really not accurate, & it's reliant on the idea that these women don't have autonomy of their own. it also misses out on where you CAN see mickey interact with misogyny as a character trait. if you're too distressed by mickey calling svetlana a whore because she called him a pussy you're going to miss out on his occasional belief that women can't fight back, or have power. he falls for the manipulation of that pedophile in s3 (and has very sad sex right after walking away. also there's implications there) & he thinks it's embarrassing to be scared of his wife (even though he knows she's tough and intense). occasional because he can definitely tell that people like mandy, debbie, svetlana, and sandy have hands.

but also, like, when he's acting like a dick there it's treating these women as on equal footing. i saw a while ago someone try to read "we are thirsty" / "good thing theres a sink in the bathroom then huh" as, like, a damning mark on mickey's moral record. but man, i think svetlana was trying to figure out if mickey was white knighting, and if she could use that to her (& her coworkers') advantage. and he was like No because that's a very simple entry level manipulation that he's not going to fall for. also because the kind of white knighting she was checking for involves attraction (see: "nice guy" shit) and he is gay.

worthy of mention: mickey alleging that frank raped a girl, and mandy alleging that ian attempted to rape her are the same strategy in use to recruit. they each had their own agendas going on here & they both knew what'd get backup of people who are just excited to do violence. i wonder what this means about mickey maybe already knowing that mandy had been lying. i can see him realizing that if she was ACTUALLY hurt by someone she probably wouldn't have said anything but assuming she had her reasons anyway that she wouldn't disclose. 🤔🤔

there's also a point being made here about the fact that violent retaliation against abusers doesn't even necessarily do anything besides feel satisfying on an emotional level. when mickey is harassing kash, before we find out he's gay, ian grows more, not less, protective of kash, and feels more strongly attached. -> related to fiona's incredibly negative reaction when steve ditches frank in canada, contrast to mickey Not allowing ian to hurt kenyatta (though he also didn't want ian to do something he'd regret and get arrested)

[13agota]

Here's a tiny little ficlet because I have nothing better to do with my Sunday except ignore research PowerPoints and precharting. It didn't fit in any other longer form stories, but I still like the idea, so it's landing on Tumblr. SFW (for once)!

-

Kaz leans his back against the dirty brick wall. They've stopped next to a light fixture and it's brighter than he's comfortable with. He turns his head so the brim of his hat will shade his face.

Inej's hood shields her features from the eyes of the few passerbys as she notes the crags in the alley walls. She confirms she'll be able to climb them for a job later this week.

When Inej turns back to him, the light clearly illuminates her face as it emerges from the cave of her hood. Her eyes are gleaming. Two glossy shards of amber that twinkle in the light of the streetlamp's flame.

Kaz knows that look. She wants to try.

A tilt of his head is all the permission she needs, and her lips meet his.

It's both a small thing and it's not. They've worked up to this point for months. These days they can manage a kiss in the street as if it's never left then shaking on opposite ends of a room. It feels like nothing short of a miracle, though Kaz acknowledges he has no business being involved with anything of the sort.

Inej leans into it, and Kaz squeezes the crow head of his cane to keep from touching her waist.

It's not smart to do this in public. Two people canoodling against a wall at this hour hardly earns the batting of an eyelash, but if they're recognized, it's too much risk. The night is about as deep as it gets and people are starting to get sloppy, but he doesn't need anyone spotting the two of them in what is technically Razorgull territory. Even as his lips part for her, he tracks a reveler as he stumbles over the cobblestones.

Inej pulls back. "Distracted?" she says, though there's still mirth in her eyes.

"This streetlamp is bright. I'd hate for any familiar faces to find us in this neighborhood," he says as he peers around the corner behind him. The light cuts a shadow, obscuring the alleyway to their side in a wedge of blackness. He can't make out any movement there, and it's completely silent. Probably fine.

"You'd prefer somewhere less visible?" She asks.

"I'd prefer somewhere where only your Saints can see us."

"I could request a shady corner for us," she says, fitting her hips against his. "Should be easy enough in a place like Ketterdam for my Saints to arrange."

His gloved hand flutters instinctively to the curve of her back. He still isn't sure why she lets him to touch her like this. In dreams he leaves a black, tar-like substance on her skin, marring her shine. He wonders when she'll finally come to her senses and put an end to the way he stains her. On the days when the guilt gets strong enough, he hopes it's before his black heart swallows her whole.

"I suspect they wouldn't approve of Dirtyhands smothering their most treasured beacon of righteousness in the dark," he says.

A smirk tugs her pretty mouth. She side-eyes him, like he's missing something he should really know better by now.

"I'm the Wraith, remember?" she says. "The dark is my home. It belongs to me." And then she presses her lips to his again. Tugging on his waistcoat, she pulls him into the alley, over the shadowy threshold and into the dark.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #543

I went to bed on time last night, but I still woke up feeling pretty groggy. It's been like that for a while now. I know I've said before that it can take weeks or even months to recover from a sleep deprivation injury or even a small disruption in one's circadian rhythm; it has to do with the way cerebrospinal fluid clears out debris from the brain while we're out, and the fact that this cycle runs on a hormonal timer. I know that the airplane trip was basically a month of sleep deprivation and circadian rhythm injuries that I'm probably gonna need a while to recover from. The 5 days on the way back, basically constantly on the move, were also very unhelpful, I'm sure.

...It's somehow both humbling and heartening to witness my own ass getting kicked by the very same mechanics I've already written to you about. On the one hand... I'm definitely not fucking invincible, holy shit. On the other hand... it's interesting to see and experience these mechanics play out in real time, even if the results kinda suck.

…

...I braided my hair real quick, got dressed in my work clothes, shoveled some leftover macaroni and cheese into my face unceremoniously, drank a glass of water, scrubbed out the inside of my face so I could put my braces back in, and headed out the door. The 10-minute drive down the road was uneventful. But on the way in, one of the gentlemen who tends the carts in the parking lot told me he loves my beautiful rainbow owl-cat hat, and that he recognizes it now, and looks forward to seeing it.

...That was kinda nice.

I was lucky enough to have both Tr and Ka working with me today!!! I haven't seen Ka in a very long time, between the trip and her just... generally being out. It was wonderful to catch up with her, but... she's having a bit of a hard time. She has a friend, and... that friend's father, who is a black man, was found... hanging from a tree.

…

...The people involved are trying to call it a suicide. But... I'm not convinced. Given the historical context... it seems possible that it was a lynching, especially given that times are what they are right now. In the past, shortly after slavery in the United States was outlawed, a lot of white people who were very angry about it liked to get together in mobs to intimidate black people in their communities by hanging black people in trees. They'd get hanged like that for all manner of very small so-called “transgressions”, such as looking at a white woman in a way they didn't like. It's only been about 160 years since those days, and... these sorts of hate crimes never really stopped. Not really. Maybe became less common. But they never really went away, which is... more than a little bit fucked up.

...I'm not a black person. I'll never fully understand the terror of living in a world that wants me dead just for my skin color. I understand living in a world that wants me dead for my genitalia, for my sexuality, for my neurotype, and for my life experiences, and I can maybe draw empathy from that place, but... it's still not quite the same as what Ka and her family have to go through. I can kinda hide my neurotype and almost all the other stuff I mentioned (except for being female; my voice gives me away). She... can't. Not that she should have to. Not that I should have to. But the world at large is more dangerous for Ka than it is for me or Tr. So... when Ka expressed fear for her life and her children's lives because of this potentially targeted thing, and Tr tried to say that she knows exactly what it's like because she apparently fears for her children's safety every time they go outside... I gently reminded Tr that, although traffickers and random people with malicious intentions exist, it's still a lot less common than race-motivated attacks on people, and that although yes, it is wise to worry about her children while they're out and about, no one is gonna come after them just for their skin color.

Tr got kinda quiet after that. Ka... thanked me for sticking up for her. Though I wish I didn't have to. Tr is a lovely and kind human being, but... sometimes she can be blind to her privilege, and that occasionally puts holes in her ability to empathize. I have faith in her ability to learn and do better, though.

I mostly put cookies on trays and packaged baked items today. Check it out:

There was one extra s'mores cookie leftover, still warm and delicious. I remembered how delicious it was when I first tried it – back when I was using my braces as a retainer for a bit. But... I am not using them as a retainer anymore. I cannot eat the warm, gooey cookie. Or even any fresh croissants. Not wanting the warmth to go to waste, I asked Tr if I could package it up and give it to An, of the meat department. And she said yes! Picked out a suitable container and everything.

Well... I got there. And An wasn't there; he wasn't supposed to come in until noon, I guess. But Ad was there. So I left Ad with the cookie, asking him to give it to An. And... Ad said something like, “I will, and I'll let your boyfriend know that you came by.”

…

...I froze for a second, panicked. An is very lovely, but... he is definitely NOT my boyfriend. Likely never will be. And so. Like. I tried to say as much. That it's impossible, though not because there's anything wrong with An, but... because I'm not...

...Sigh. Look. I'm a chubby, awkward dweeb. I'm under no illusion that I'm even remotely desirable, and I'm not arrogant enough to think that An would want anything to do with me in that capacity. If anything, he probably thinks I'm weird and kinda dumb. So. Yeah.

...I tried to say all that. But... I was frazzled and it definitely didn't come out right, and... I probably just incriminated myself further. Goddammit.

...So I ran back to my own department, probably looking like a freaking lobster because my pasty Irish/Nordic ass blushes like crazy when I'm flustered. I buried my face in Ka's shoulder for a moment and whined a lot from the sheer level of embarrassment I felt.

I feel ridiculous and stupid for these nonsense sense of squishiness I feel for An to begin with. It is WHOLLY UNWARRANTED and WILDLY INAPPROPRIATE. The fact of the matter is, even after all this time, I barely even know An. He is not some adorable thing to be coveted; he is a human being to be known and understood, if he'd even allow that. Whether or not I am someone who could meet his needs, and whether he is capable of meeting mine, and whether he even wants that... these things have to be considered and evaluated VERY carefully. Because if you don't, then you end up hurting people. And I don't wanna do that. I don't wanna do that to anyone.

…The squishiness will NOT rule me. It will NOT be the driving factor for my interactions with An. I will simply continue to treat him with the same warmth that I treat anyone else who I happen to feel safe around. To do anything else is unfair to him. I will NOT do to him as has been done to me in the past. I won't do it. I won't...

He's a human being, not some fanciful daydream.

…

According to Tr, An did get the cookie I had intended for him. Apparently, Ad teased An, too, effectively saying, “your girlfriend brought you a cookie”. Apparently, another gentleman, Vr, stuck up for An, saying, “don't be jealous because someone wants to give him cookies and not you!”

…

I wonder if Ad is feeling left out. But... Ad doesn't usually visit the bakery like An does. So that doesn't make sense to me. Nonetheless... maybe I'll get Ad some cookies. Maybe then he won't feel left out.

I went home to find J bustling about the kitchen, making a cake, some bread, and some crackers, which was pretty rad. And... still feeling groggy and somewhat frazzled, I took a nap with J, and that seemed to help, some. Shortly thereafter, I wove a couple more wishes to life for you:

And... I guess that brings me to the here and now. Woo.

...And how are you doing? Have you put any more thought into yesterday's words? I wonder...

I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring. But... maybe instead of finding out, I'll be intentional about deciding how it will go. I hope that you, too, will be intentional about how your tomorrows go.

I love you so much. Can you feel it, even from an entire reality away...? I sure hope so. And... I sure hope you act on it. You deserve your own love. You deserve a love that is soft and kind, while still holding you accountable for your occasional bouts of nonsense. We all do. We all deserve a love that helps us become out most favorite self.

Be safe out there. Treat yourself like you matter, because you do.

I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[bnhaobservation]

My Hero Academia Ultra Archive (May 2, 2016) - Prototypes for Todoroki Shōto and Todoroki Enji

I'm pretty sure everyone saw those images around, but the translations are a bit harder to find (at least as far as I'm involved, I'm sure other people might have found it with ease).

So, since in my country this book was translated, I thought to share the translations of the prototypes of their character descriptions.

Keep in mind they were originally thought pretty different from the original and that this isn't a translation from Japanese to English, but from Japanese to Italian to English.

For who can't see the image here's the text.

Flame Hero

Endeavor

TODOROKI ENJI

He has a fire ability and can manipulate flames.

He has a completely (not really) heat-resistant suit.

Furthermore, thanks to an armor whose surface is coated with a special oil, he becomes a super cool guy who wears an armor made of flames.

He has an honest personality and abides by law and order above all else. Due to this, even if he is chasing a Villain he also stops at a traffic light and happens to lose sight of him.

Although as a Hero he leaves something to be desired, he is loved by the people.

He is incredibly strong and is in the top 5 in terms of popularity.

He has the ability, but he has always put in the effort.

Why is he so strong?

Because he has always been serious and tireless…

My two cents: Okay, I guess it wasn't decided yet he would be Number 2. Sure is, Enji is pretty different here. In another circumstance Horikoshi said he planned to have him be an U.A. teacher, so, although Shouto is, according to Horikoshi, the first or second class member he came up after Midoriya, Bakugo and Uraraka, it's possible Enji was planned before him as a teacher and then changed to fit the role Horikoshi wanted for him in Shouto's story. With the way they present him as so honest he would stop at a traffic light when chasing a Villain, I wonder if, originally, he was meant to be some sort of gag character. The fact he's loved by the people was clearly changed, since there's plenty of discussion when he inherit the mantle of Number 1 and he's, according to Horikoshi, the Number 1 among the Heroes that looks like Villains. Endeavor in canon has fans, but has also haters.

Well, at least the fact that he's a guy who put in a lot of effort was left.

On another note... this says Flame Hero (フレイムヒーロー) but in Vol 1 chap 3 Horikoshi called him 'Nenshō-kei Hero “Endeavor”' (燃焼系ヒーロー「エンデヴァー」 "Combustion hero ‘Endeavor’”) so I guess that although "Combustion Hero" was probably meant to be Enji's original name, Horikoshi here corrected the name so that fans could easily recognize him.

By the way, here we can see the evolution of Enji's costume

In chap 1 it was more or less the same as in the prototype.

In chap 3 the arm guards were changed slightly and so the colouring but the rest of the design was the same.

In chap 28 the chest are was changed slightly, as now the flames reached the center and didn't start halfway.

In chap 34 the neck has changed, we can see the belt is different and the pants are tight and the belt is different. The boots too are slightly different. Basically it's the custom Enji is meant to wear until he'll upgrade it as he'll turn the Number 1 Hero.

And now let's move to Shōto...

Recommended student

TODOROKI SHŌTO

Definitely dark, definitely strong.

He was born from a disgusting practice called 'crossbreeding' used to further strengthen a Quirk.

His mother, who had a boyfriend, was chosen by his father for this but then she lost her mind.

She hates half of her son and hurts him.

Shouto hates her and seeks affection from his father, who however is only interested in those who are strong.

Overcoming his father, becoming more powerful than him: for this reason he aspires to become a hero stronger than his father… that is, Todoroki Enji, the top Hero Endeavor.

My two cents: Okay, Shōto originally had... part of Tōya's backstory? With him searching Enji's love and being obsessed with becoming the strongest to get Enji's love?

Well, that's quite a change. Here it seems more like Rei was turned insane not so much by Enji's abuse but by having to give up on her loved one since Shōto shows no sympathy for her...

Definitely in the original Horikoshi had planned a rather different story. I wonder why he changed it and if he was unsatisfied with the change and that's why he kept on tampering with Shōto's past. Oh well, we probably will never know.

[greycappedjester]

I know it’s a lot of characters to sort but if you don’t mind sharing, where would you say the people in the DA fall in the spectrum of trust and fondness for Headmaster Ukai? On one side we have Oikawa who definitely does not trust or seemingly like him, and then we have Noya (I think?) who suggested the name Ukai’s army so he probably has some degree of trust/fondness for him. Where do most of the characters fall within that scale?

Oooh good question! I'd say it's currently*...

*in the 5th story for people who come across this post later. Since this list will certainly change

Least Trust:

1.) Oikawa-he doesn't trust practically anyone rn outside of his small group of friends and he especially doesn't trust people in authority and 2x especially anyone who was involved in the last war. Oikawa lives in rage and is definitely curently #1 to Stab an Authority Figure in their Sleep

2.) Daishou-this is definitely a lot less than Oikawa but I'd still say he'd be next in list sicne he is 1.) a Slytherin who aren't the most trusting bunch to begin with, 2.) raised around Uncle/Minister who never trusted Ukai and would likely let some of that slip, 3.) Knows how much of a fake his Uncle/Minister is and likely thinks Ukai as the other major war general hero is much the same

3.) Iwaizumi-oddly not because of that thing with the 2nd Task but that didn't help. Nah, Iwa-chan still definitely holds a grudge about that thing with Oikawa and the veritaserum from the begginning of 4th...even tho technically Oikawa took that by semi-choice

4.) Kuroo-similar to Daishou, he's way too familiar with politicians with fake public faces. Nothing really aganist Ukai in particular, just not big on public people who everyone seems to praise (which Ukai definitely was as a war general hero before this year with all the bad press aganist Hogwarts)

Ambivalent Range ie The I'm Just Not That Trustfull Bunch:

5.) Mika-matches up with Daishou in that she's not too trusting of anyone who technically has powr over her (by being her Headmaster)

6.) Yaku- Teenage Curmudgen(TM)

7.) Tsukishima- Teenage Misanthrope (TM)....ranks more trusting than Yaku since Tsuki's experience with Minister last year made his ostensible rival (the Headmaster) look better by comparison

8.) Makki & Matsu- Come On We're Still Slytherins Duo....really it's just that they have a bone deep rebellious streak and a long history of pranking

He's Alright, I Guess? Range:

9.) Kenma- Has genuinely never thought of the Headmaster much

10.) Ennoshita- Headmaster's way better than the Minister...2nd least trusting of the Crows so he sitll holds some resentment because of how the werewolf stuff was handled in 3rd story but likes that the Headmaster was able to keep it a secret from the press and student body

11.) Amani- Is a pretty friendly person in general

12.) Shimizu- Certified Teacher Friend (in a good, non-suck up way). I mean, come on, she's been a library assistant for forever. She was 100% the kid on the playground who would rather sit by the tachers and read quietly (this was me in elementary btw). She desn't really know the Headmaster but has genrally positive feelings towards the Hogwarts faculty

13. ) Yamaguchi- 3rd least trusting of Crows, too much time around Tsuki. Still has complicated feelings about 3rd story stuff. Pretty similar to Ennoshita, but Yamaguchi was raised more in the wizarding world so still has more of the Ukai-Great-War-General vibes

14.) Kageyama-Wait, what does this have to do about Quidditch?

Yes, I like Him Range:

15.) Yachi- "While there are some things I feel complicated about [insets paragraph] I also accept that human beigns are naturally flawed and that becasue he also did many good things like [inserts multiple paragraphs], I generally feel that our Headmaster is a good person though subject to human flaws as we all are" (Questioner has long since tuned out). Basically, Yachi's a good egg who recognizes flaws but aslo that everyone's a bit complicated

16.) Daichi-Genuinely appreciative of everything he's done for Asahi to let him attend and cover up aspects of what happened in 3rd.

The You Could Stab Me And I'd Say "Hey, You Dropped Your Knife" Crew....ie the just really trusting in genral bunch

17.) Bokuto- :)

18.) Hinata- :) (Oikawa voice in the background): He drugged you and left you in a forest! Hinata: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Headmaster is a Badass! Group/ Most Trusting and Genuinely Admire Him:

19.) Lev-Dude, Headmaster Ukai fought aganist the Giant! He's Awesome (But Scary)

20.) Tanaka- complicated family history which makes him greatly look up to a hero of the war who put a lot of Ghosts behind bars

21.) Asahi- Is very appreciative of Ukai for letting him attend Hogwarts and helping him with all the necessary paperwork

22.) Suga-Is so adamantly aganist his family's legacy that it fuels a bit of a blind side of viewing Headmaster's faults. He really does have some very secific blinders that come on when it comes to his family legacy. Overly trust figure of the oposite side is likely one of them.

23.) Noya- 2x admiration since Ukai also helped his uncle get in when he was a student and then helped Asahi and just in general has been just very cool about helping students of various creature legacies (like veelas, werewolves, dhampir, etc) into Hogwarts. Also Ukai's a war hero

Bonus:

Akaashi-who needs trust when I've got foresight?

In other words, Akaashi's too weird on what "trust" as a concept even is to put him on this list. How do you view trust when you genrally know for a sorta-fact how people will behave?

[stormyoceans]

Girllll this feels like a dream 😭😭😭 I'd love to watch jimmysea in the medical plot 🤌🏻 if you're looking for feedback tho, I think it would be nice if you could also add the romance storyline? If not for every couple, only for jimmysea. Only if it's not too much stress babe, I hope your main focus is having fun in this project 💜

ALL FEEDBACKS ARE MORE THAN WELCOME ESPECIALLY SINCE I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IM DOING ;;;;;;;;;

i actually have so much material about this particular plot that i had no idea how to go about putting it down in a coherent way, so in the end i tried to write the kind of summary you would find on MDL, but i realize that without the romance part it's probably not very appealing ;;;;;;;;

im still not sure of how to make sense of everything i have in my head so im just gonna share my very messy notes about jimmysea's characters and their relationship (only them for now because if i did it for everyone we would be here for a really long time ;;;;;;;). here we go!!!!

sea: a bright young man who always has a smile on his face and seems to have no worries in the world. his happy-go-lucky personality and the fact that everything comes easy to him can make him come off as a bit arrogant, but he's actually surprisingly observant and caring. when he was 17 years old, his father died in the ER after a car accident, and because the other party involved was a boy from a wealthy family, sea has been convinced ever since that his father's death was due to the doctors choosing to prioritize the boy even if his condition was less severe. this loss inspired sea to study medicine to make sure that what happened to his father didn't happen to anyone else, but it also made him resentful, which is why he struggles to respect the hospital rules. this often puts him in conflict with earth, who thinks sea's natural talent isn't enough to justify his lack of discipline.

jimmy: the only medical student to have completed his specialization under the mentorship of jane's father and to have actually earned his respect, jimmy is now one of the most renowned surgeon in the country despite his young age. his charming and gentle personality makes him be liked and respected by everyone, but his workaholism has earned him the nickname of 'the ghost of [insert name] hospital', as he seems to hardly ever leave the place. after being left at the altar by the woman he loved, jimmy has given up on relationships entirely, throwing himself into work and constantly trying to dodge his sister's attempts to set him up with someone. his walls however start to slowly crumble under the power of sea's smile and small caring gestures.

basically on one of jimmy's usual late night at the hospital, he wonders into pediatric to discuss a case with mix and finds sea reading a bed time story to a small group of children. just like jimmy, sea too seems to be reticent to go home, so night after night they end up keeping each other company and spending more and more time together. at first it's just the two of them working in the same room, jimmy doing paperwork and sea studying for his upcoming medical exams, but eventually sea manages to coax him out of the hospital, first by taking him out to eat and then by taking him to sea's favorite places around town. sea is also full of small caring gestures that make jimmy's heart tremble: he leaves jimmy's favorite coffee on his desk for him to find after a particular rough night, he forces jimmy to take a break and get some rest, he cuts fruits for jimmy and is mindful of everything that has to do with jimmy's hands. as they get closer tho, jimmy also realizes that there's a lot more behind sea's smile than it first appears: sea's mother never quite recovered from the loss of her husband, and after three years from his death she started developing sever dementia, to the point she can no longer recognize sea and sometimes even mistakes him for her husband when sea smiles

in my head their relationship is a very slow burn as they help each other heal but also as they try to reconcile their feelings with the fact that they're still a mentor and an intern. earth is also jimmy's best friend and at first he very much does not approve of how close jimmy and sea became, but eventually he comes around

THIS IS MORE OR LESS IT IM SHUTTING UP NOW BYE

[pangolinheart]

Do you think that Rhiki and G'raha could mend their relationship one day?

You know, I don't think it's entirely impossible. It would probably take some concerted effort on of their parts.

Unfortunately, this is somewhat unlikely. Part of the problem is that G'raha doesn't seem like he really understands why Z'rhiki is uncomfortable around him (if he even notice that she is.)

G'raha has always loved tales of heroes, has always wanted to be a hero, so I don't think he necessarily recognizes how his elevation of the Warrior of Light to the apotheosis of epic heroes could feel dehumanizing to someone. He lavishes them with praise, attention, and accolades - how could that be a bad thing? He may not even realize that his image of the Warrior of Light, cultivated over 200 years of reading or listening to second-, third-, and fourth-hand sources, might not be completely consistent with who Z'rhiki is as a person.

He also appears all too happy to move past the things he, personally, put the WoL through on the first. Rhiki tries not to hold the fact that he kidnapped her and her friends and put them all in extreme danger both intentionally and unintentionally against him - he didn't have much of a choice if he wanted to save the First. These may have been unpleasant, but they were necessary. What wasn't necessary to save the First, however, was him lying to her and manipulating her, and she'll happily hold those things against him. It definitely feels to Rhiki like he was positioning her as a prop for the heroic tale he wanted to be a character in. He didn't try to sacrifice himself because he cared about her. He did it because that was the role in the story he wanted to play, because it was the ending to a story he had scripted for himself.

Unfortunately, Rhiki is probably not aiding in a reconciliation either. She understands that he went through more than his fair share of hardship in order to prevent the destruction of two worlds. He was in an impossible position and had to do the best with what he had. And she also knows that he idolizes her (or at least the pristine statue of her he's constructed in his mind), She doesn't want to be mean to him. She doesn't want to hurt him, despite everything. A part of her wants to scream at him until her voice is hoarse, or maybe to punch him as hard as she can at least once, but she knows that's not fair, and she doesn't want to pass her pain onto someone else. She also feels like trying to force him to recognize her as a person would rob him of his hero, his personal symbol of hope... which might break his heart. However, all this means she just avoids the issue. She doesn't try to talk to him about it, doesn't try to set him straight. She just tries to avoid having to be around him, or maybe makes some snide comments to lightly discourage him from wanting to hang around her.

Mending their relationship would probably require a lot of awkwardness for everyone involved. It would require Z'rhiki to actually talk to G'raha about her feelings and frustrations, which might involve hurting his feelings. And it would require some self-reflection on G'raha's part, and a willingness to see from her perspective. He would need to recognize his past shortcomings - and not just the self-deprecating ones he already sees in himself. He would need to give her space for a while. Deep down, she wants to forgive him, but she's just not there yet. It would also probably take some bonding experiences (and no, studying Ancient Allag does not count as bonding in Rhiki's eyes). He would have to get to know Z'rhiki as a person and let go of his conceptions about the Warrior of Light, and Z'rhiki would have to let him. It would be less "repairing their relationship" and more "rebuilding it from the ground up." It would be tenuous at first, but if they kept at it they might be able to forge a new friendship.

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish - Nine Tails

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>18<

The police rarely showed up at his place for casual chat. Inspector Sonoda was the one exception with which the arrangements even paid off for him. In addition, they were both involved in the case of the escaped prisoners, he delivered to his police station, as he then believed, a barely alive Spec. In fact, he did because he was closest there - Morio was active in Shinjuku, as was Kaoru. He did not intend to do more than this one incident for the police, but the inspector did contact him from time to time. So they sat sipping whiskey, talking about a few loose topics and a few less. After all, they were bound by territories, it was proper to live in proper terms, unless the situation called for something else. However, he knew perfectly well that Sonoda did not want to mess with him. With Hanayama, the police at all levels preferred to be careful. Hanabi didn't even flinch as the inspector waited for her to leave. He thought they would be alone, he was wrong. This time he was not going to drive her out. He knew he was prancing up his ears and would probably cut in at some point, but that didn't bother him. She let her hair loose, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to reveal a row of earrings. She was seated again with her laptop on her lap, wearing a light, floral sleeveless blouse, white slacks, and openwork, heavily cut ankle boots with a high, narrow heel. On the finger there was an inseparable ring with three diamonds arranged in the shape of a lotus. The visitor was clearly embarrassed to talk in front of her, but the yakuza didn't care. The key is not to waste his precious time.

- At least we've got the escapees out of our minds! - He laughed finally, a bit nervously.

- I would hold back on such judgments, Inspector. You sound like you've forgotten how much damage they've done. - Hanabi said, turning her head. - I recommend extreme caution.

- They're harmless now. - he snorted, waving his hand.

- I may be ignorant ... but due to my experience, people like them become harmless when they are dead. - she replied firmly. - I hope your superiors, Inspector, have at least offered to look at what is happening to them and that it will be done properly. We don't need a repeat of the entertainment in Shinjuku. I suppose not the police either.

- Yes, I'm going to do this myself. - he grunted reluctantly.

She was wonderful at expressing his thoughts in words. Although he perfectly remembered the condition in which he had thrown a 97-year-old serial killer on the hospital bed, his wife was right - not just any hurdles, but a bunch of guys with the opinion of the most dangerous murderers in the world. The probability that they were pretending to be insane or gathering strength while allegedly dying was very high. Which meant the police would have a problem again any minute. He was quietly hoping for a repeat, though the Spec had spoiled him enough.

As it turned out, she was not much wrong. In less than a few weeks, television was buzzing with news of a fugitive running happily through the streets of Tokyo. He didn't need to listen further to know that law enforcement didn't deal very well with this type of opponent. He had absolutely no business helping them. The specialist personally barred their way as they strolled around the city in the evening. It was unfortunate that the cops were following him. Hanayama noticed this as the side alleys were swarming with special forces. Hanabi stopped short at the sight of a two-meter-tall bald man in a dark, loose tracksuit. He could almost feel it being bristled, and goose bumps peeked under the light sweater that draped over the dark skirt. She remembered him, recognized him even though she had only seen him once, on her first visit to the Arena. Worse, she had no plans to back out. He wasn't going to let a hair fall off her head. He took a step forward, tucking his glasses into the pocket of his suit.

- I was hoping to meet you boy! - the condemned man laughed, taking off his sweatshirt. - We have a small, unfinished business.

As usual, he delivered the first blow that hit Kaoru right in the face. Hanabi stepped back slightly, respected his methods, rather not intending to intervene unnecessarily. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Sonoda coming out of hiding. He did not have time to wonder what the police would do in this situation. The opponent tried one of his aces again: an extremely fast attack with apnea. The blows turned out to be much faster and stronger than before, he didn't know by what miracle, but despite lying still in intensive care, as Hanayama imagined, Spec returned to his former form and even strengthened. Not only him. Kaoru curled his hand into a fist and, finding a gap in the hail of blows, struck right in the jaw, sending him running far ahead. The latter, however, recovered surprisingly quickly, setting the loosened jaw joint with his wide hand and struck it with a high kick this time. The young yakuza landed right under his wife's feet, he was not going to give up. The spec, on the other hand, changed the goal. He walked as if nothing had happened to the frozen dark-haired woman.

- What a beauty ... and that fearless look! You'd probably be very pissed if I broke her neck? - he asked innocently, extending his arm towards her. - Your girlfriend?

The great tattooed paw was held back by a tiny hand, a steel grip holding back the attack so the other could dig her fingers into a sore point in the armpit. A man's muscled arm dropped loosely, and a moment later another followed, barely trying to slide towards her. The spec stood stunned, and in a split second she was on his shoulders, sitting like a small child on the nape of his father.

- Maybe I'm not as strong as my husband, but definitely faster. - she murmured in a low tone, pressing down on another vital point.

The fugitive lost control of his whole body, fell like a long one on smooth asphalt, and she landed with her own lightness, tapping the lacquered pumps with her high heels. He had spent so much time with her that he forgot what she was doing. In fact, he never asked for details of the contract killer trade. Not only Hanayama was surprised to see the tiny woman who knocked down a huge, insanely dangerous man in seconds. With a staggering step, disbelief clearly written on his face, none other than the police inspector approached them.

- Do you have a wanted poster for that fugitive, Sonoda-san? - she asked innocently.

- Y ... yes ... - he muttered, still in shock.

- So you'll call for the full amount for the DEAD option. - she replied firmly, adjusting the tie on Hanayayama's massive neck - In cash, preferably in beautiful brand new, colorful yen.

- The ... hehehe ... I escaped the death penalty, girl ... - groaned the still immobilized Spec.

- Relax, it will catch up with you. Judging by the tattoos you like rituals ... so I'll give you ritual death. - she muttered, crouching beside him, examining the drawings on his hands, then added, turning her head slightly. - Of course you are invited, Inspector. You will be able to confirm that the punishment has reached the fugitive.

- Kizaki, we have something big to transport. - Kaoru muttered into the phone.

He wondered what she was planning, he was a bit afraid of what would happen next, but ... at the same time he was terribly curious. He didn't mind killing those who deserved it, and the death penalty had long hung over Spec. Hanabi did not reveal the details to him, but she took care of a certain setting. As she promised, it was supposed to be a ritual death. He thought he would rely on traditional seppuku*, but it's hard to get someone like that to commit suicide, right? As soon as he expressed this suspicion, she quickly shook her head and added that the gaijin** was not worthy of a samurai death. Prepared as usual, he admired the accuracy with which she was able to handle such tasks. She learned a little about her victim and combined with her own knowledge ... to create a quite coherent whole. American, globetrotter, fighter. There was only one way out of this equation.

At her command, a makeshift sacrificial altar, unlike anything he had ever seen, was erected in the valley outside the city. He was not from Asia. He was too crude, crude, and the patterns of wolves or snakes did not match any of the beliefs he had heard of. In the middle is Spec, slung by his hands, restrained by shackles blocking the flow of chi. She was not going to let him escape, he was absolutely going to die there. Behind him stood two fireplaces, one with a knife heating in it and the other with an ax. The cream of the triad he headed has gathered. The Mafia wanted to see how ruthless their boss's woman was, or rather whether she was what she was meant to be. Hanayama was absolutely sure that Shiro Kitsune would not disappoint their expectations. Sonoda appeared along with Bisquit Oliva, which has been inseparable for some time. Out of the corner of his eye, somewhere in the trees, he also picked out the silhouettes of Baki and Kozue. He guessed that the girl did not believe that Hanabi was capable of murder, and the boy did not want to let her go alone to such a dangerous place. Finally she arrived, completely calm, in a white fur tightly covering her with a large hood. All he could see was a light, flowing, long black dress, or rather its lower part, covering the legs. Judging by her height, she arrived barefoot. She stood in front of the condemned man when he woke up and tried to break free from the shackles. She neutralized him while he was asleep. Sometimes this skill terrified him. It was enough to touch a few places that a person would not be able to use their full potential. So petite, so tiny, and she could easily knock a large man down to force him into submission. The prisoner looked at her very differently than before. Despite his rather cheerful disposition, he was furious. It's hard to be surprised.

- You'd have to bring in the Death God himself to kill me, little girl. - he gasped with difficulty.

- It's funny that you ask for it, because that was my plan. - she muttered, tossing the fur over her back.

A long, flowing, yet tight-fitting black dress, revealing the shoulders, with a slit at the left leg, reaching the hip bone. He took a closer look. If she pampered the smallest detail of each of her orders in this way, he was not surprised that she was sometimes exhausted, and also so much in demand - long after the wedding she received messages to which she stubbornly replied "NO". She made her victim fear. The left side of the body, including the face, was painted to look like an anatomically perfect skeleton, glistening with green, fluorescent paint, strongly reflecting against a black background. It made her look half alive. Even her eyes seemed to glow differently than ever. The character she chose was familiar to the fugitive.

- The Norse goddess Hel*** ... - he muttered, shocked and as if impressed. - Why ... she?

- I'm just going to send you to her. - she replied again in that low, creepy tone. - Vikings, great travelers, like you, I suppose, believed that all the unworthy, dishonorable and filthy go to this goddess ... so why not?

She entered the altar, still completely calm, even winter and professional. But through his skin he could feel her excitement, excitement. He had felt it before when she prepared the whole plan at home. She was enjoying it as if she had returned to her beloved, long-abandoned job. Before she stood behind Spec's back, she reached for his increasingly frightened face, though it might as well be a play of appearances, and hissed:

- You will howl in pain to fly into the clouds like an eagle with outstretched wings. You will not know the goodness of Odin's honey after death.

Kaoru held his breath as she finally walked over to one of the hearths and took a hot knife out of it, which she skillfully used to cut the skin on the man's back. The condemned man let out a long howl, unable to endure the searing pain. The first drops of blood fell to the ground, slowly gaining strength. When she had made the right incision and spread the dripping flaps to the sides, she put the blade into the fire to take the ax handle with both hands and forcefully slash it straight in the back. The stench of burning human flesh rose in the air, the crunch of chopped ribs and a wild scream, and she continued, completely ignoring the red stains on her face. The man was losing consciousness more and more with each passing moment. Finally she put down the gun to open his chest with her own hands covered with black gloves. Nobody twitched or made any sound, only heard Kozue's muffled groan from the distance, at the sight of the still throbbing lungs laying on his muscular arms. Spec's head dangled loosely, Hanayama could see only a few last tiny nervous tics. To finish the ritual, she reached with her dirty right hand, leaving a streak of blood on her cheek.

- Hel, the ancient goddess of death, worshiped by the great Vikings, accept this stray soul for she is unworthy of Valhalla. - she said sternly, descending the altar, disgusting at the same time lapping the rest of the juice on the face of the dead man with the rest of the juice from her hand.

He had never seen anything like it, but he could not afford to lower his jaw to the ground. The yakuza boss should be tough and unshakable. Instead of showing surprise, the most calmly in the world he approached his wife and draped a pale fur over her shoulders. She accepted it gratefully, taking off her gloves and taking his massive hand. As she walked a few paces away to speak to the stunned and also apparently disgusted inspector, a large African American stepped in front of her, bowing to her.

- I salute your artistry, Mistress Unchained **** - he muttered proudly.

She didn't react, just looked at Sonoda to remind him of the money for cleaning up the mess.

____________________________

* seppuku - honorary suicide, the ritual of taking one's own life in ancient Japan, which is a privilege of the samurai caste; it resulted from the Bushido code;

** gaijin - foreigner

***As the White Kitsune is sometimes taken as an omen of death, it was logical to associate it with one of the goddesses of the world of the dead; for Hanabi it was natural to choose the Scandinavian goddess Hel;

****Mistress Unchained - a title loosely given to her only by Oliva, meant to mean the equivalent of a freed prisoner (Hanabi has never been in prison);

[crossdressingdeath]

HOLY SHIT THAT ALARIS BACKSTORY! How does this affect things come Inquisition? I feel that both Cassandra's personal quest and ANYTHING involving Cullen are going to be fascinating.

The really fun thing with Cullen is that he doesn't remember or recognize Alaris at all. After all, why would he remember some random "girl" (...oh yeah, side note, Alaris is trans now. Don't think I've mentioned that on Tumblr before, I've been getting up to gender shenanigans) telling "lies" about a Templar? Mages lie all the time, why should he take any note of it? And no one notices the Tranquil at all. Alaris meanwhile absolutely remembers Cullen. This makes some conversations, notably the one where Cullen insists that Meredith hid "the things he'd question" from him, come across very differently from how Cullen probably intended them to. The general vibe is very much "You ruined my life and it was so standard for you you don't even remember it and you're telling me you didn't question that?"

With Cassandra that conversation after her personal quest where she's like "Oh... I suppose there's a cure for Tranquility... but they might stay super emotional after they're cured so maybe we shouldn't cure them... I'll have to investigate..." lives in my head rent-free with Alaris especially. Because like... it's a horrific thing anyway, the way Cassandra entirely casually suggests that ex-Tranquil maybe being more emotional than the average person who was never Tranquil (on the grounds that one guy was a little emotional in the first like. week of being cured and it made other people a bit uncomfortable! That's all the proof she's got!) might mean that they shouldn't be cured of having their emotions burned out of them by the Chantry is a whole thing that the game does not explore at all. But with Alaris it's like... in my head he's mostly good at staying calm and sweet and controlled but sometimes his temper bursts out of him unexpectedly and even he doesn't know if he always would've been like that or if it's a side effect of having been Tranquil and he still wouldn't go back to being Tranquil for anything. And he wants to scream at Cassandra for daring to suggest that his life isn't worth living because maybe he's a little temperamental at times, but he can't because admitting that he was Tranquil means admitting that he was cured, and the only known cure for Tranquility is possession and he can't trust the Inquisition not to kill him at the first opportunity for having been possessed even though he isn't anymore. Also the bit in the first conversation after her quest where she asks about Tranquility and one response is "You mutilate mages" and she says she always thought of it as a necessary evil hits very different when playing a former Tranquil.

(Also, one I find very interesting with this situation is actually Sera? Because she's got her whole thing where she openly thinks elves and mages aren't little people when in fact they are the very definition of little people, and in this worldstate Alaris is sitting there listening to her talk like he's never suffered and the whole time he's thinking "I was nothing, less than nothing, little better than a talking table in the eyes of the world, and you have the fucking gall to sit there with your noble upbringing and your freedom and your access to the funds to do things like travel all across Thedas and talk like I didn't deserve to be saved" and he can't say any of it.)

[foundtherightwords]

All Our Yesterdays - Chapter 3

Pairing: Ralph (Timewasters) x OFC

Summary: Thu, a museum archivist, only wants to escape her dull life in 21st-century Hanoi. The last thing she expects is to end up in 1929 Indochina via a time-traveling elevator and cross paths with Ralph, an Englishman on the run from the French Foreign Legion. Romance blossoms between them, but in a colonized country, unrest is always looming on the horizon, and Thu must decide if she wants to stay with Ralph in the past or return to the safety of the future.

Warnings: outdated/period-typical attitudes about women, mentions of war, mentions of pregnancy and abortion (involving a supporting character), some angst, some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter word count: 4.7k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Chapter 3

For a fleeting moment, while her brain was still heavy with sleep, Thu thought she was at her grandparents' house in the Hue countryside for the summer holiday. Everything was still. The sound of traffic that woke her up every morning was absent, and somewhere in the distance, impossibly, a rooster was crowing. Then she felt a strange pillow under her cheek, felt a crick in her back from sleeping curled up on the couch, remembered what had happened the night before, and bolted up.

It was no dream then. She was still in the room with the old-fashioned tiled floor and the rattan furniture. A clock on the cupboard told her it was just after six, her usual time of getting up. Good to know that even almost a hundred years into the past, her circadian rhythm was still the same.

The bright early morning light streaming through the window helped to clear her head. She had been such an idiot the previous night. It was the shock that got to her. But now that she'd gotten some rest, she knew what she had to do, and it was so absurdly simple that she wondered why she didn't think of it sooner.

The bedroom door was still closed, and she didn't want to wake Ralph. She found a piece of paper from her backpack, scribbled "I'm going back to the future. (She couldn't stop herself from dropping a little reference, even though he wouldn't understand it.) Thank you for all your help, Thu" on it, and left it under the coffee cup on the table. Then, lifting up her backpack, she set out for Tràng Tiền Street—Rue Paul Bert, she remembered to correct herself.

It was early, and though the streets were busier than they were at night, it was nothing compared to the seething hive of modern Hanoi. Office workers probably wouldn't start their day for another hour, and most people she met were day laborers and street vendors, just like it was in her time. Funny how some things never changed. A woman walked past, dressing in the rural style of a brown tunic and black skirt, her hair hidden under a black scarf, carrying a steaming basket on her head. "Hot sticky rice!" she called. "Come get your hot sticky rice!" The warm scent of the steamed rice topped with crispy onion wafted toward Thu, making her mouth water and her stomach growl. She remembered she hadn't had anything to eat except for a mouthful of dry bread since the previous night. But her money was no good here. So she swallowed and walked on.

The way from Ralph's lodgings to the IDEO Printing House was less than one kilometer, but without the familiar landmarks, Thu had some difficulty in finding her way. Eventually, though, she recognized the façades of several buildings and found herself in front of the Printing House once more. Already workers were filing in through the front door, and the hunks of machinery she glimpsed the previous night - printing presses, she now knew - were shuddering into life. Thu mingled in with the stream of workers, hoping she could pass unnoticed.

No such luck. A man in Western clothes, looking like a foreman, stepped in front of her. "Can I help you, uh, miss?" he said in Vietnamese, sizing her up.

"Uh, yes, I'm here to see the director," Thu said in what she hoped was a confident voice. "My boss wishes to have some visiting cards printed."

"The director's not in," the man said. "You can talk to me about any order you wish to place."

"But my boss insisted on speaking to the director himself."

"Who's your boss?"

"Uh, Monsieur Davinier, a photographer on Tràng Thi—I mean, Rue Borgnis Desbordes," Thu said, using the first name that came into her mind. "Really, I won't be a minute." She pushed past the foreman and rushed into the elevator. It had now changed from the slick design of the 21st century into an old-fashioned style, the kind with two sets of doors that you had to close by hand before the elevator could move.

The foreman was shouting for the workers to stop her, but she ignored them and pulled the two doors shut.

That was when she realized she had no idea what number to press on the keypad.

Would "2023" work? But there was no "0" button.

Wait, there was a "∞" button she hadn't noticed before. Could she use that?

"Here goes nothing," she said under her breath and pressed 2 - ∞ - 2 - 3.

Nothing. Perhaps just 2 - 3 then?

No.

2 - 3 - ∞? Still no.

She pressed 2 - ∞ - 2 - 3 again, really pressed them this time, as if doing so would make it work.

Still nothing. The elevator didn't move. It didn't even beep.

"No, no, no," she muttered, running her hand over the keypad, searching for—what? She didn't know. Some evidence, some sign to show her which buttons to press. But there was nothing.

As she stared at the keypad in dismay, the doors were yanked open. The foreman pulled her out. "This is a workplace," he said, dragging her across the factory floor, "not a fairground for you to play around in! Get lost!"

"But—wait—" But this is my way home, she tried to say. The only way!

"Get lost or I'll call the gendarmes!" the foreman said, shoving her through the door.

Thu stared at the ink-coated door of the Printing House. It wasn't until now that she realized she hadn't truly believed this was happening. She had been able to stay so calm throughout the previous night because she had thought this was all just a nightmare, and she could end it simply by stepping back into the elevator. All her hope had rested on it. She should have realized that it wouldn't be that easy. She might be stuck here for the rest of her life.

A sudden feeling of complete, utter loss washed over her. She had never had a panic attack, but she was pretty sure she could feel one coming on now. Her heart started racing, her body alternated between freezing and burning up, and she trembled all over, unable to move.

The ruckus from her trespass into the Printing House had already caught the attention of some curious onlookers, and now her crying was attracting a crowd. Suspicious murmurs rose around her, speculating about her outlandish appearance, her strange behavior. Over her own hyperventilating breaths, Thu caught a few words, "crazy" and "madhouse" and "police". She wanted to defend herself or to run away, but her legs wouldn't move, and she could only stand there, gasping like an idiot, while the rubberneckers surrounded her like a gloomy cloud.

A figure in white parted the cloud and came running to her side.

"What's happened?" the figure asked in English. It was Ralph.

That familiar smell was back, and it came to her in a flash—Palmolive soap, the same kind she used at home.

At the memory, strangely enough, Thu's panic subsided. "It's... it's not working," she said, trying to get her breath back. "The elevator, the lift, the time machine, whatever. I thought I could get it to work, but I can't." By now, the crowd around them had swollen to a mob. Ralph looked around warily.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he said, giving her arm a clumsy little pat and steering her away.

***

They went back to Ralph's rooms on Rue Borgnis Desbordes. Over breakfast - more coffee, bread (fresh this time, but still no butter), and eggs, boiled by Ralph over a spirit lamp - Thu told him what had happened with the elevator.

"I think Homeless Pete is the only one that can operate it," he said, once she'd finished.

"Do you know how to find him? Can you call home or—I don't know, send a cable or something, to see if the jazz quartet was still there and if they have any information for me?" Of course, if the other time travelers were still stuck in London to receive Ralph's message, it would mean they hadn't found a way home and she would be stuck as well.

A furtive look came into Ralph's eyes. "I—I can't. I—uh—I don't have their address. Sorry."

Thu remembered how she'd wondered about him the previous night, and now she studied him more closely. "What are you doing in Indochina anyway?" she asked.

"I—uh, I wanted to see the world."

"Last night you called Hanoi a mosquito-infested hellhole!"

"It has its charms, all right?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. She had always been careful not to judge a book by its cover, but even so, she had to admit that it was difficult to be suspicious of Ralph. He looked about as threatening as a puppy, with an open, trusting face, round eyes that the morning light showed to be a warm brown rather than dark brown as she'd thought, and light brown hair pomaded close to his head in the fashion of the time, though a rebellious curl over his forehead refused to be tamed. If the curl rose up any higher, he would be a dead ringer for an older Alfalfa from The Little Rascals.

There was definitely something he wasn't telling her, but Thu decided to let it go. It was none of her business. Getting home was what she should focus on, and to do that, she must find Homeless Pete. Well, a Western homeless man in French colonial Hanoi shouldn't be hard to find, should he? That was to say, if he wanted to be found in the first place...

"Look, Homeless Pete is like a bad penny," Ralph said. "He always turns up."

Thu stared blankly at him. That particular idiom had never made sense to her.

"In the meantime," he continued, "why don't you try to—I don't know, have fun a little?"

"You don't understand," she said. "I can't just drop everything to have a romp through history, all right? I have a life back in 2023! I have responsibilities!" Had she gone missing in her time? Were her parents freaking out right now?

"Well, you're already here," Ralph said with a shrug. "What else can you do?"

His calmness made her stop for a minute. Perhaps there was some truth in what he said. Panicking would help no one right now. She was in 1920s Hanoi. She was having a romp through history, whether she wanted to or not. True, she was woefully unprepared, but she knew her history well enough to understand that there were worse, much worse times in Vietnam's sad and tumultuous past to arrive in. She could have ended up in the Famine of 1945. She could have ended up in the Christmas bombing of 1972. She could have ended up in the Tây Sơn Uprising of the 18th century. Here she was, in a relatively peaceful time, colonization notwithstanding, with relatively modern amenities and relatively modern sensibilities. The country had its first wave of feminism, its first taste of romanticism in art and literature, and modernization, all around this time. So why not make the most of it and have fun, as Homeless Pete had instructed?

"OK, so it looks like I'm stuck here for the time being," she said slowly. "I suppose I could try to explore a bit and enjoy myself."

Ralph smiled, relieved. "That's good," he said. "That's what Lauren and her friends did too."

"The jazz quartet?"

"Yes." Ralph turned slightly pink. "Lauren, Jason, Horace, and Nick. They had a blast. Well, except for Nick. Last I heard, he got taken in by a eugenic cult."

Thu raised an eyebrow at that. Hopefully, 1920s Hanoi would be less insane.

***

Once breakfast was finished, Thu made an inventory of the contents of her backpack and compiled a list of all the things she would need for her stay. So far, the only useful things in her backpack were her medicine - how lucky that she had just gone to the pharmacist during her lunch break the previous day (it already seemed so long ago! Well, it was a long time ago. 94 years ago, to be exact) to refill her birth control as well as to pick up a few basics like painkillers and vitamins. Her phone and portable charger were useless. Her money, useless. And so her list looked like this:

- Money?????

- Clothes (áo dài?? Can't buy until have money)

- Essentials: toothbrush, hairbrush, towels, etc. (again, no money)

- A place to stay (can't crash on Ralph's couch forever, again, no money)

"What did your jazz friends do for money, when they were in 1926 London?" Thu asked Ralph, who had been watching her with the same awed look he had the previous night.

"We—that is, my sister, Victoria, and I—we—uh, we kind of take them in," he replied.

"And so they just freeloaded off of you? You can afford that?" Thu stared at him. "You must be filthy rich!"

"I don't know about that..."

"So what are you doing here, working as a photographer's assistant? You're some trust fund kid wanting a taste of adventure or what?"

Again, the furtive look came into his eyes. He glanced away, fiddling with his suspenders, then finally turned back to her with an air of devil-may-care defiance. "All right, if you must know, I was cut off when I ran away from home to join the French Legion," he said in a rush. "I was in Morocco for a couple of years, and it was absolutely miserable, so when I was transferred to Indochina six months ago, I just—left. And now I'm stuck here."

It took Thu a moment to process all that. It explained why he was running away from those legionnaires, at least. "So you deserted?"

"Yes," he said, casting his eyes downward. "When I joined, I didn't expect it to be like that—"

"What, you thought you'd be out on the battlefield, killing infidels like a crusader?" Thu snorted.

"No!" He looked at her, indignation blazing briefly across his face. "I don't know—I thought it would be more of an adventure. But it was just a lot of backbreaking work, building roads and things. And the way they treated the locals was appalling. Not that it's much better here," he added apologetically. "But at least I'm not directly involved anymore."

Thu looked at him again and saw him for the boy he still was. How old was he? Around her age, twenty-four, twenty-five at the most, but somehow, in his shirtsleeves and suspenders, he looked younger. She had to admire his unflappable optimism. He had never known anything but a cushy upper-class life in London, and one impulsive decision later, he was thrown into an alien world. He was just as lost here as she was.

"Why would you stay here?" she asked. "I can't imagine that the Legion would treat deserters with kindness."

"The garrison is up north," he said. "They won't find me here. The two that we met last night—that was just an unlucky coincidence."

"Does Mr. Davinier know?"

"I gave him a fake last name, but I don't think he cared one way or another. He just wanted an assistant that speaks French. He claimed the natives are not reliable." Ralph's nose wrinkled with an apparent dislike for his boss.

"Why don't you just ask your sister to send you some money for a fare home?"

He winced and turned away again. "I'm not going to beg. Knowing Victoria, I'd never hear the end of it." For a moment, he looked so dejected that her heart went out to him.

But feeling sorry for Ralph didn't solve her monetary problem. If anything, it made it more pressing that she got some money for herself, instead of mooching off of him. Out of habit, she reached up for her pendant, and suddenly remembered both the pendant and necklace were pure gold. It was an 18th birthday present from her mom, who had said, half-jokingly, that it would go toward her dowry. Thu had never had much of a sentimental connection to it; she only wore it to show her mom her gratitude. And now she was more grateful for it than ever.

She sat up and turned to Ralph. "I'm going to Silver Street."

***

"How did you know where to go?" Ralph said, following Thu down the length of Silver Street while she scrutinized the signs advertising the prices of gold and silver. Of course, the houses had changed a lot, but other than the fact the signs were hand-written instead of digital, and there were no bored-looking security guards yawning on stools outside the shops, the street still looked soothingly familiar with its rows of jewelry shops and money changers. Gold and silver pieces gleamed behind glass cases or in the shopkeepers' hands as they lifted them up for the customers to examine. 

"The thing about Hanoi is that it sticks to its traditions," she replied. "It's slow to change."

It took them a while to find an out-of-the-way pawn shop in an alley. The owner, a little old man with a salt-and-pepper goatee reaching to his chest and his teeth dyed black, stared at Thu and Ralph doubtfully over his glasses. "Did you just come from abroad?" he asked Thu in Vietnamese.

"Uh, yeah." She wracked her brain for a far-flung place. "Morocco. This is how they dress there." She winked at Ralph, and he responded with a smirk. Hopefully, she wouldn't start a new trend or something.

The owner shook his head over the exotic habits of the Moroccans, but he didn't ask any further questions. He weighed her necklace and offered her 20 đồng for it.

"Twenty!" she shouted, trying to look outraged. "Gold is one fifty an ounce, and that, with the pendant, is at least half an ounce!"

"But who knows where you might have gotten it from?" the owner retorted, eyeing Ralph with fear. Perhaps he thought Ralph was some sort of undercover policeman, and this was a setup. Thu had to laugh at the idea. Who would believe that this fresh-faced boy was a cop?

"Don't try to be righteous, mister," she said, grabbing the necklace off of the scale. "If you don't want it, I'll find someone else that does."

That did the trick. The owner quickly put out a hand, whose pinky was topped by a long, curving nail, to stop her. After some more bargaining, he finally agreed on a price of 60 đồng, while still grumbling about how she was robbing him blind.

"That was wizard, how you talked him into it!" Ralph breathed out as they left the pawn shop.

"Thanks, I guess," Thu said, amused. She had no idea what "wizard" meant, but it sounded like a compliment. "I'm just used to haggling. You kind of have to be, living in Hanoi."

60 đồng. How long would it last her? Thu's mind was busy running through all the books and documents she'd read about colonial times, trying to remember if any of them mentioned the cost of living. But such details would have been deemed too dull for the novels, while the history books were more concerned about politics and revolutions. Why didn't they write about anything useful?

OK, let's say the money would last her a month. And when the money ran out and Homeless Pete didn't turn up, what then? She had to figure out a steadier source of income. Perhaps she could ask Ralph to put the money in a bank for her and live on the interest. Could she trust him not to run off with it? He was in need of money...

She glanced at him, slightly ashamed. After all, he hadn't been anything but nice to her, when he could've left her to fend for herself. But still, she shouldn't depend on another person. Could she find a job? What did women do for a living in this time anyway?

Buying clothes proved to be another challenge. There was no ready-to-wear clothes shop for women; everything was bespoke. So that's why they looked so chic back then, Thu thought, remembering the photos she'd seen of women from the 1930s in their elegant áo dài, tailor-made to fit them exactly. She wasn't even sure she could pull off something like that. In her time, áo dài were reserved for formal occasions, and she always felt so gawky in them. But the silks on display looked so soft, the colors so bright and pretty, that she couldn't resist dropping into one of the many tailoring shops along Silk Street and asking to see some samples.

"You would be wanting the modern áo dài, wouldn't you, mademoiselle?" the tailor, a fat man with even more pomade in his hair than Ralph, asked. "Or perhaps you're interested in Western dresses?"

He turned to Ralph and asked something in French. Ralph turned bright red. "Non, non, nous ne sommes—" he stammered. "C'est pour elle," he waved a hand toward Thu.

"Très bien, monsieur," the tailor said with a simpering smile and returned his attention to Thu.

Seeing Ralph's uncomfortable look, Thu had a pretty good guess of what the tailor had asked. She had half a mind to go to a different shop, where they would be less likely to jump to conclusions, but she realized that for this time, it was a natural assumption from seeing a young Vietnamese woman with a Western man. Besides, their silks were exceptional. She ended up ordering half a dozen áo dài and was positively giddy to find out they only set her back a few đồng each - in modern day, they would've cost millions.

"They'll be ready in a week, mademoiselle," the tailor said smoothly, after he finished taking her measurements.

That still left her a week with nothing to wear. Then her eyes caught the male mannequin in the shop window, and a sign advertising ready-made shirts and trousers.

Well, why not? She had drawn enough attention to herself, running around Hanoi in her modern outfit, which was basically men's clothes anyway. So why not blend in with some style?

"May I see some of your men's clothes?" she asked the tailor.

"For monsieur?" he asked.

"No, for me."

The tailor's eyebrows went up a fraction, but he said nothing, only signaling to his assistant to bring out some shirts and pants. Apparently, he was much more used to dealing with eccentric customers than the pawn shop owner.

Half an hour later, they left the shop together, Thu feeling very spiffy in her striped button-up and white linen trousers held up with suspenders, just like Ralph's. She still drew some curious stares, but she didn't feel like a sore thumb anymore.

"What is it?" she asked, catching Ralph's glance.

"Oh, nothing," he said. "I'm just wondering if women in the future prefer to wear men's clothes. Lauren does too." He seemed to mention Lauren a lot, more than the others. Thu wondered if there was something between them.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "They're just more comfy, you know? I have to say, it's much easier for women in men's clothes to get accepted, not so much the other way around. I wish it wasn't like that, but hey, gender stereotyping is hard to overcome." She added, "I like Lauren though. She sounds cool."

"She is," Ralph said. His face was pink again. Yep, definitely something between Ralph and Lauren - hey, Ralph Lauren, that's rich, Thu sniggered to herself.

It was almost noon, and Thu thought about buying Ralph some lunch, to repay his kindness.

"Oh no, there is no need—" he began.

"No, please, I insist. Where do you usually eat?" she asked.

"At a bistro near the studio," he said. "It's the only place I know. There's also a store where I buy cheese sometimes, but it's expensive, so it's only for special occasions."

Thu was appalled. "And that's all you've been eating for the last six months?" she asked. "In the best food city of South East Asia, and you only eat French food?" The thought of him eating stale bread and rancid butter made her want to cry.

"Isn't French food the best in the world?" Ralph said, confused.

"Not when there are better and cheaper options!" She shook her head. "I'm going to have to educate you on this."

Thanks to the ever-present street vendors of Hanoi, food was the one thing she wouldn't have to worry about while stuck in the past. She kept an eye out for any vendor that looked promising and soon set her sight on a man with a shaved head sitting between two tall baskets, one containing a pot boiling over a portable charcoal stove, the other containing the rest of his ingredients, as well as bowls and chopsticks. The warm, savory smell coming from the pot was unmistakable, and Thu immediately dragged Ralph toward the stall. "Come on, you are in for a treat," she said.

Ralph hung back a little, unsure, but eventually, he followed her.

Thu asked the vendor for two bowls. The vendor eyed Ralph with some trepidation, but he served them anyway, putting two handfuls of noodles into the bowls, sliced some paper-thin beef on top, poured the piping hot broth over everything, before topping it with some fresh herbs, some chili, and a squeeze of lime.

"Are we just going to eat here on the street, like this?" Ralph asked.

"Yeah, it's part of the experience. Tuck in."

Ralph couldn't quite master the chopsticks just yet, but their unwieldiness didn't deter him. The moment he took the first sip of the broth, his already round eyes went even rounder with delight.

"This is so good!" Ralph exclaimed. "What is it?"

"It's phở. Beef noodle soup. Our national dish," Thu answered with pride. Although she had eaten countless bowls of phở, Thu had to admit that there was a certain sweetness to the broth and a smoothness to the noodle that the modern phở couldn't compare. She had to resist the urge to pull out her phone and snap a photo for Instagram. What hashtag would she even use? #pho1929? #timetravelfoodie? Yeah, right.

"And how much for this bowl?"

"Ten cents."

"Ten cents?!" He almost dropped the chopsticks in disbelief. "You mean to tell me I've been wasting my money eating at that exorbitant bistro when I could have this for a tenth of the price?!"

"Of course the bistro is expensive," she said. "They have to import butter and cheese and what have you, and by the time they get here, they don't taste so great anymore. Eat local when you travel, my friend. It's always best."

"We pack our food when we travel."

Thu's lip quirked up. "What? So you go to France with fish and chips in your bags or something?"

"No, not like that. Like when Mr. Carter went to Egypt. You know him, Howard Carter?"

"Yeah, you're talking to a museum archivist here," Thu said. "He's the one who discovered Tutankhamun's tomb, right?"

"Exactly! The papers reported that he bought his supplies from Fortnum & Mason, and after that, it was all the rage to stock up there before any trip abroad."

Ralph listed off all the food the 1922 expedition had brought along to the Valley of the Kings. Thu was fascinated—the history books she read certainly didn't mention that. "I think they brought all that food, jellied lobster and curried fowl and wines, just so they could have the crates to pack the mummies in and ship them back to England later," she said.

Ralph laughed. She hadn't heard him laugh before, and for some reason, it pleased her, knowing she had made him laugh.

Chapter 4

A/N: A bit about the money in this chapter - the official name for the French Indochinese currency is "piastre", but everybody called it "đồng" (meaning "copper" or "coin"). In 1920s, 1 piastre = 100 cents = 10 francs. A bowl of phở did cost 10 cents back then. For comparison, it costs 35.000 VND now (about 1.5 USD).

[illiana-mystery]

My Current WIPs

I was tagged by @eclecticwildflowers and @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky to post my current WIPs! I have four, so this is gonna be a long post.

The four in question are He Won't Hurt You (Bobby Hicks), Sugar Baby (Ed Blackridge), The Vampire's Jewel (Max Shreck), and Jumping the Broom (Alan Ward).

Taglist: @emilynightshade89, @yentoons

---

He Won't Hurt You

"Nev...Nev...Neveah, wake up. Wake up honey," he softly said as he shook your sleepy body. You hesitated to open your eyes, until you finally recognized the voice you just heard.

Soon you batted your eyes and smiled when you saw your old manager standing by your side.

He smelled of a fresh morning cigarette with a hint of orange juice and was wearing a pink short sleeve shirt with slight raveled jorts.

His utility belt was fascend firm against his waist, as his hands held the sides, flexing his muscles a little more.

He was quite the sight to behold after you woke up, although you wished he was still cuddling you in bed.

"Good morning, Bobby," you groggily said as you rubbed your eyes. "It's morning already?"

"Yes, and I need you up and at 'em," he demanded in more of a drill sergeant tone. "We got places to be and faces to see."

"Okay, sir," you hummed, making him blush. "Sir, yes sir."

"Nev, please stop. We don't have time for more fucking and you're making me horny calling me sir like that," he warned, his face turning even more red.

You laughed as you got up and out of bed.

"Okay, Bobby. I'll stop. Can I at least get a kiss?"

"After you get dressed," he said. "Time's a wasting. Tam's been blowing up my phone. She acts like she can't function without me around. I told her that I was helping you out and that we need to get your stuff out of that apartment before I come in. Juan's there though. So she can just get help from him."

You felt your blood boiling a bit from what he was saying. You knew that Tamara took your old job, but you didn't realize that she probably had a crush on Bobby too. And it really didn't make you think otherwise by his admission.

It wasn't a hard job, so you knew that she only wanted Bobby around because she liked him. So that only meant that this was gonna be awkward being in the same space as her.

"What am I gonna wear, Bobby? All of my clothes are at my apartment."

"Not to worry, beautiful. I already picked out an old army shirt and some cargo shorts for you to wear."

"Oh, does that mean I can wear your dog tags too?" you curiously asked.

"No, no, darling. Those are only for me to wear. Although, maybe I might oblige...if it involved you with nothing else on."

"That can be arranged," you hummed.

He just snickered.

"Enough," he sternly said. "Now get dressed and meet me in the kitchen. I made a breakfast smoothie for you."

"A tropical smoothie with a hint of coconut?"

"Of course. I do remember you always trying to drink all of mine every morning. I couldn't leave my cup unattended lest I be left with less than half of it."

You giggled.

"Well, it didn't bother you too much," you said as you began to put his clothes on. "I mean you did still fuck me last night."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," he teased before he left you to finish getting dressed.

After you finished and wrapped your hair up in a messy bun, you followed his instructions to meet him in the kitchen.

He was preoccupied pouring more almond milk in your smoothie before he finally looked at you. And when he looked at you, he was floored.

His old army shirt and cargo shorts looked so good on you. His shirt clung to your chest just right and his shorts hugged your ass and hips and thighs just right.

You looked like a model to him, a very sexy curvy model that he was lucky enough to bed last night.

"So, what do you think?" you asked as he finally came back to his senses.

"What do I think?" he asked as he walked around the island where he was standing and moved over by you. "I think...well I think you look gorgeous. Damn. My clothes look better on you."

He sealed his compliment with a heartfelt kiss, pulling you even closer to him as it went on.

"Thank you, Bobby," you said before a giggle. "Maybe you should let me wear your clothes more."

"I'm starting to be open to the suggestion," he moaned before he retrieved your smoothie. "Here. You ready to go now?"

"Thanks," you said once you took the cup from him. "Yep, I'm ready to go."

---

Sugar Baby

"You know, when I was a kid, I used to watch Mae do her and her daughter's hair when they were living with us," Ed started, bobby pin clasped between his lips. His hands were painstakingly braiding the last pieces of Alicia's hair that went along with the hair design he thought would look nice on her for the day.

"Mae was a master with hair. She could do just about any type of hairstyle that was common in the black community back then. It was quite impressive and I guess I just picked it up," he explained further, making sure he clearly answered Alicia's question of his skill. He was still a little too vague for her case though, but she let it slide.

"I'm honestly surprised. Seems like you were confused about my satin cap last night."

"I was. Mae and Loretta just wore their hair in scarves," he replied. "And honestly, I never really thought about how different their hair was from mine, just thought it was beautiful like yours. I mean Miss Mae was a housekeeper, but she still liked to look her best."

"I really would have liked Miss Mae," Alicia cooed. "She's sounds kinda like my dear mother."

Ed just chuckled before he turned her chair around so she could look in the mirror.

"Voila!" he cheered before he noticed the bright smile that now decorated Alicia's face.

He had braided the left side of her hair and wrapped it around the back, making a nice little design worthy enough for a typical hair show in Atlanta.

"Eddie! Oh my gosh! I love it! Thank you!," she said as she jumped out of her chair and hugged him.

"You're welcome," he happily said as he hugged her back.

"Oh my gosh, now I need to change."

"I don't mind you walking around in your swimming robe," he teased as he kissed her neck.

"Well, I mind, lover boy," she remarked before she went back into his bedroom to retrieve the old campus shirt and shorts that she packed.

Ed followed not too long after, but stayed leaned up against the bathroom doorsill. His hands were tucked into his distressed blue jeans, as his flexed muscles placed little wrinkles into his crisp white undershirt.

He eagerly watched her get out of her robe and into her clothes, which she noticed. Not that she mind though. He had seen her naked earlier.

"Enjoy the show, handsome?" she teased as she walked back over to him. He didn't give her an answer, but his baby blues did give her a good look over.

The baseball shirt she was wearing hugged her chest and waist just right and her shorts excentuated her sexy hips.

"Damn, she even looked good in casual clothes," he thought.

"My eyes are up here," she said with a giggle.

"They sure are," he retorted before he took her lips in a soft kiss. "You look amazing."

"I'm just wearing an old college shirt. But thank you."

"Honestly, you look good in anything...although I like you with nothing on too."

"Fresh," she remarked before she playfully punched his arm. He just laughed.

"Ready for the rest of the tour?"

"I was born ready."

Her response caused her older lover to laugh again before he took her hand and led her out the bedroom.

He showed her his guest rooms first — five in total and they were all designed with murals inspired by a Van Gogh painting. He told her how he hired a muralist from Manhattan to take on this task and how it took about five months to complete the project.

But he put up the artist in his own room and paid for his travels too and fro as well as his other expenses. To him, it was worth sleeping on the sofa for.

Alicia couldn't have agreed more, but she was curious what room he was gonna put her in. He smiled before he told her he though she would have liked to stay in the Starry Night suite. It was the largest room and had its own bathroom unlike the other four which had two shared bathrooms.

However, the guest rooms were rarely used anyway now. On that somber note, he brought her to his study on the other side of the upper floor.

The room was enormous and surrounded by Mahogany bookshelves that were overflowed with books of different genres. Honestly, it looked like a small library. But the centerpiece was a grand, large portrait of the Blackridge Family including Mae and Loretta that was above his large desk.

And Alicia noticed that the mother and daughter were wearing dresses that were as extravagant as Vivian's while Ed Sr. and Eddie were both wearing tailored suits. It was a lovely portrait and really showed how beloved Mae and Loretta were to the family.

"I made her laugh before we took that portrait," Ed admitted before he jokingly smiled at Alicia. "That's why her smile is so bright. Loretta didn't smile a lot, but she did around me. I made her."

"Sounds like you two were close."

"Of course. We grew up together."

Alicia giggled.

"I couldn't help but notice the dresses they're wearing too."

"Oh, yeah. My mom insisted that they be in every portrait, much to the photographer's chagrin. He didn't understand why we would consider the help family, but my dad would always back her up. So she would always make sure that Mae and Loretta had a nice outfit to wear too. Loretta and I were 15 in that picture."

"Malcolm looks like her," she observed.

"He does," he said with a laugh. "I've always told her that. She doesn't see it though."

She wanted to ask Ed more about his friendship with Loretta, but she decided against it and just went along with the rest of the tour.

The movie room was next on the itinerary and Alicia immediately observed that it looked like a viewing room on a Hollywood lot from the 1960s. But she liked the old charm of it.

The chairs were gold-finished with plush velvet" cushions and were put together in four columns and four rows. She wondered why he had so many seats, but didn't ask.

"You can sit if you would like," he softly said before she did. He followed after and smiled at her, making her do the same.

"I feel like I've gone back in time," she said. "But it's much cozier than how it would have been."

Her comment made Ed a little uneasy. Past memories of the mistreatment of his nanny and friend flooded his subconscious, but he tried his best to play it off.

"Yeah," he moaned. "This is actually an exact replica of the projection room in my childhood home. My mother loved movies, so my dad had it made for her when they were building the house. It was years before I was born. I actually get film from several movie companies every month."

Alicia was so in awe, she didn't respond. Ed grabbed her hand to get her attention again and she looked at him before he asked,

"What's your favorite movie genre? I can tweak my usual order for you and we can watch some movies together sometimes if you would like."

"I like just about any type of movie," she answered. "But I really like Action-Adventure, Comedy, and Horror. But I don't like gore."

"Noted," he said before he kissed her cheek.

---

The Vampire's Jewel

Your hand moved down your neck as your remembrance of him finally faltered. At this point, the scar he left you was but a mere mark. Nothing but a reminder of a night of revelry you shared only once.

But still, somehow, it was special to you. Deep down, you still loved him. It was obvious by how the Scarlet stain immediately made you think about him.

It still had been years though. Maybe it was time to move on. Sure, he claimed that your souls were bonded and that he would have to kill you if you betrayed him but how could he.

He left you alone the next morning after your encounter, without a proper goodbye. And vampire or not, that was just rude.

You still had hope that maybe you were still on his mind every now and then though. And you hoped he was safe wherever he ended up running away to.

Hell, maybe happily ever after was right around the corner. You hoped it was anyway. You spent way too many lonely nights over these poor years. You just longed for his chilly touch.

You moped for only a short while though as your yawns began to take over. Your tiredness won and eventually you blew out your bedside candle and got comfortable under the sheets.

Slowly, you closed your eyes and fell into a restful sleep.

But for only a short while.

Because you were soon startled awake by the noise of footsteps and heavy breathing. It was a frightening cacophony of noise, but still sounded so familiar.

However, you were frozen in place and didn't dare get out of bed to investigate.

The sounds stopped after a few minutes though, settling you back into peaceful sleep.

But as you dozed back off, the intruder made his way into your room. He crept in, barely making noise as he found his way to your bedside.

He really wanted to taste you again, but he became distracted by how pretty you were as you slept.

You were still as beautiful as he remembered, but he wondered if you would still find him attractive.

A lot had changed about him since the last time you saw each other.

Due to his new environment, his skin lost about ten years of aging and his hair started to grow back. Now, it was about shoulder length and flowing, but still as white as the tufts behind his ears he used to have.

His fingernails were still long and sharp, but trimmed to a more civilized length. And his clothes were updated to an era-appropriate suit vest and puffy shirt with slacks underneath.

He was a new man, a new man that didn't have to live in the shadows anymore. But although he had his new freedom, he began to miss you.

That's why he returned. He returned for you, just like he promised.

He just hoped that you would be able to adjust to the harsh coldness and darkness of his new home.

Slowly, he approached your face and stroked it with his chilly palm as his other hand moved to feel your heartbeat.

A smile appeared on his face once he felt the rush of your heartbeat and he quickly moved his head down to kiss your cheek.

You jolted awake once you felt his lips, before jumping back once you noticed the intruder's face.

Of course, you didn't recognize him so you reached for a sharp object to stab him before he jumped back and said,

"Greta, Greta. It's me. Schreck. Max Schreck."

"What?" you asked in a confused tone. You took a closer look at him afterwards, before you noticed his distinct yellowed eyes and fangs.

"Yes, it's really me. I've come back for you," he said as he kept his hands up.

"Well, it's about damn time," you huffed before you threw your blunt object to the side. "What took you so long? Why do you look different?"

"May I sit? It's been a long journey."

"Sure," you moaned as he sat down before he noticed the dried stain of Scarlet on your fingers. He licked his lips, alerting you that he saw the dried blood. You rolled your eyes, but let him lick it off.

"Thank you. I'm parched," he moaned after.

"I'll let you feed from me after you explain yourself," you replied.

"Good deal," he answered back as he sniffled you. "Mmm, you still smell of lilac."

"It is my favorite scent," you remarked. "Now spill."

Unfortunately, he had one more request before he did explain.

"Can I touch your breast?"

You rolled your eyes, but complied.

"Fine."

Swiftly, he squeezed your left breast which was his favorite. The low temperature of his pale hand made you wince, until he rest his head against your other breast.

Yes, his head was also cold but he was kinda cute like this. He was softly mewing as he kneaded your bosom, and rubbing against your other like a purring cat.

"Comfortable?" you teased.

"Yes," he purred. "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too. That's why I thought you would come back for me sooner."

"I wanted to, but it wasn't safe. I traveled throughout the known world to find us a safe place to live, but I fell short. Every time I would get comfortable, I was driven away by angry humans. I was almost killed a couple of times," he began to explained. "I guess I can't blame them since I did kill their loved ones. And that was my life, until I settled in this remote village on the other side of Siberia..."

You were perplexed when he said that. He traveled all the way from Russia just to see you again. And not only that, but he traveled around the world just to find the perfect home for both of you.

You couldn't believe it. All this time, you thought he ditched you but he was just looking out for your best interest. Honestly, it made you love him even more.

"The locals there treat me like a god. I'm set up in an abandoned castle and I have willing feeders at my beck and call. They give me blood and I give them room and board in my castle. All of them were poor and homeless, so it's a win-win."

"That's lovely," you moaned. "But I'm not used to intense cold. Isn't it really cold there?"

"It is, but there is a way that you will be able to withstand it."

"And what would that be?"

"I want you to be my immortal bride," he cooed as he looked up at you. "By becoming a vampire. I can turn you tonight, while we make love."

"Schreck, I don't...I don't know about this. I mean will this hurt? Will I even change properly?"

"Greta, I'll take good care of you," he assured as he licked and kissed your right nipple. "Besides, you'll make a gorgeous vampire. And you'll live without fear of dying forever. I'll make sure of it."

"Well, I do like the sound of that," you murmured.

He widely smiled at you before asking,

"So you accept my offer?"

"Yes, yes. Turn me, please."

---

Jumping the Broom

He had the biggest smile on his face as he drove back home. He just couldn't wait to get back on one knee and propose to her again.

However, his plan was put on hold when he found his wife fast asleep on their couch. He was slightly disappointed, but still gave her a kiss on the cheek and pulled a blanket over her.

A soft smile reappeared on his face as she got cozy against the plush of the wool blanket as he put the ring box back in his pocket.

He turned the radio off after, realizing that Janie forgot to turn if off before she fell asleep. Then his stomach started to growl, so he went to the kitchen and found the stew on the burner.

Quietly, he went about rewarming their dinner and fixing them both a bowl. He figured the scent would wake her up.

And he was right. It did. As soon as the smell hit her nose, she slowly woke up. Her eyes batted open and she slightly stretch before she noticed the blanket draped over her.

That meant that Alan was finally home. Because he would always put a blanket over her if she fell asleep on the couch before he got back.

Happily, she jumped up and went to greet him. He was reading the paper she left on the table while he ate, so he didn't see her at first.

So she walked around to his backside and put her hands over his eyes.

"Guess who?" she teased.

"Is that my darling wife, Janie Marie?" he cooed.

"Yes," she chirped before she put her arms around his neck. He chuckled and gave her a kiss after.

"Sorry I didn't..."

"It's fine," he said as he folded the paper and put it where he found it. "I'm capable of fixing my own dinner too."

Janie giggled before noticing the bowl he fixed for her.

"Thank you," she said before she kissed his cheek.

"You're very welcome," he replied as she went to sit down and eat.

"That new paperboy always brings the papers after I leave for work," he suddenly said. "Good thing I'm not always checking the stock market."

Janie just laughed.

"He's six. Let's cut him some slack."

"Flynn and I were paperboys at his age. We always woke up with the roosters and did our job well and on time."

"Well, things work a little differently in Virginia than they do in Wisconsin."

"Fair enough," he relented. "You know, you season this better than ma does."

"I do have some Creole in my blood," she replied. "Spice is just a part of my DNA."

"I'm glad. This is just the kick I needed."

"How was your day?"

"It's was a bit chaotic. Glad I have Eric though. He kept my head on straight all day."

Janie laughed.

"I'm glad you have him too. He's the friendliest Brit I've ever met."

"How was your day?"

"I finished my errands. But I bumped into Mary, Betty Jean, and Cindy Lou at Macy's. So I spent most of the day with them at the shopping mall."

"Oh, well that's nice. I'm sure Mary appreciated it."

"Yeah, it was. I just hate that Paul told his girls to call me Miss Guillory instead of Mrs. Ward because we're not legally married and I'm colored..."

"That bastard just gets more and more likeable by the day, doesn't he?" he grumbled trying not to get too angry. Although, his face did get red and he did tighten his fists.

"I'm not trying to work you up, Alan. I just needed to vent."

"Rupert also made me mad."

"Oh no. What did Mr. Jessup say?" she asked.

"He was talking about how you aren't actually my wife and how I'm only shy about my big case because I'm with you...a colored woman. Like how dare I not want to make that bust all about me when it isn't my struggle."

"Ugh, I really hate him sometimes."

"Eric had my back though. He told me that we can legally get married now due to the verdict of that case."

"Yes, I know. I'm so excited. I'm glad things are starting to change."

"Me too," he said with a big smile. "Now, what's for dessert?"

"Why don't you check the oven?" she teased.

"Okay," he said with a shrug. Once he checked the bottom compartment, he found the banana bread she baked.

He took it out but then noticed a strange hole in the middle. So he poked his finger in and felt a little plastic toy. He took it out and it was a little baby rattle painted pink.

His eyes lit up before he looked over at his wife. She had turned her chair around and had a big smile on her face as she rubbed her belly.

"Janie..."

She giggled.

"Alan, I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a father."

The excitement Alan felt suddenly was overwhelming. For the past three years, he desperately wanted a child and now his dream was becoming a reality.

He threw himself on the floor in front of her and just started to cry tears of joy. Janie smiled and cradled his head against her stomach as he kept kissing it.

"When did you find out?"

"Last Thursday at my doctor's appointment," she answered. "I wanted to wait to tell you until we got the verdict for the case."

"Janie, this is wonderful news," he said as he kissed her tummy again. "I'm so happy. I love that you put that little rattle in the bread."

"Betty Jean picked it out at the doll store at the mall."

"Of course she did," he said with a giggle. "I'm finally gonna have my little June Rose. Oh, I can't wait to hold her and read her bedtime stories."

Janie giggled before she ruffled his hair.

"We don't know what we're having yet."

"I just know. Father's intuition. And I love her already."

"She loves you too," she hummed as her husband looked up at her with watery eyes.

"I'm so glad you told me. Which means it's a good time to also do this," he said as he pulled out the ring box and got on one knee. "Janie Marie Guillory, would you make me that happiest man in the world and legally marry me?"

"Oh, Alan," she cooed before she began to cry. "Of course, I will."

---

I hope to have these chapters fully updated sometime in July. 🤞🏾 Hopefully, I can get through another bout off writer's block by then.

But until then, enjoy! 😁

[bookwyrminspiration]

in one of the earlier books i believe vertina (and maybe someone else? idk) said that sophie looked a lot like jolie. which seems like too big of a thing for shannon to not explain. so what do you think’s happening with that?

also gethen being sophie’s father seems pretty likely but why didn’t forkle recognize him? unless he was lying to keep sophie from knowing he was her father but it doesn’t seem very hard for him to say he knows gethen without revealing anything about that

Great questions! I can only theorize, but I think the primary reason for people saying Sophie looked like Jolie (it was more than Vertina, including Edaline, and said multiple times) was as part of suspecting her of being Sophie's bio mom/the confrontation with Brant.

The constant comparison planted the seed that they might be related, kinda as a very early intro to the bio parents search. She doesn't start a real search till much later, but it continues the ruminating on it brought by Prentice so we can get there. And by looking like Jolie, she enters a unique situation when dealing with Brant, bringing his/his and Jolie's story to light and forcing him to confront it. It's like Jolie's brought back to life in spirit, which affects how Brant responds and kicks off his reveal/betrayal

But we don't see much if any mention of the similarities between Jolie and Sophie after those things happen, so I assume it's served its purpose and the similarities between them are coincidental, if convenient.

As for Gethen, of course there would be a lot of questions for Forkle about how he managed to get a Neverseen member in on Project Moonlark. But I presume you're referring to the scene on pgs 595-597 ish in Everblaze? Rereading it, and this is being very particular, Mr. Forkle doesn't seem to say anything that suggests he doesn't know Gethen. He doesn't say much at all, just that he remembers fighting off Gethen when he came for Sophie, and that they'll move him somewhere he'll feel more like talking--because he does have info Mr. Forkle doesn't know and would want, even if they've met in the past. And what he says could be an intentional move to not reveal what he does know, while also not faking ignorance. Because even if he does know Gethen, everything he said still stands. Perhaps he thinks the less Sophie knows about Gethen in general, the better, so he doesn't mention anything the kids don't find out themselves

So perhaps he did recognize him, and just didn't say anything because that's safer than lying and potentially being caught. Especially since the kotlcrew are really pushy at times. Simpler to just keep them out of the loop on that one--after all, the Black Swan has no problems keeping secrets and withholding information, which is especially true when it comes to her parentage. He can do what he needs to do with any additional information he has separate from the kids; they don't need to be involved in his behind the scenes work.

I think one of the main questions for the Gethen theory is: why? Why would Mr. Forkle pick him, and the answer would probably involve him having a regular identity Mr. Forkle thought he could trust before it was revealed he was Neverseen. Basically same as the Fintan theory, we just don't know that for Gethen so there are more questions.

There are gaps and questions in every theory, so none of this is certain, it's just a potential explanation.

[mikkeneko]

OK it does look like nobody else has done a ChengSu manifesto so here goes:

1. what existing problems does the ship solve?

1a) On Jiang Cheng's side: Qin Su meets pretty much all of his spoken requirements, and probably a lot of the needs he didn't actually articulate when he was writing up his "please god I don't want my parents' relationship" questionnaire. From everything we know of Qin Su in canon she is good-natured and competent at running both a household and a Sect. She was kind to Jin Ling even when he was a direct competition to her own child's inheritance; she certainly would be no less so when they're not in competition at all! Overall, having a dedicated partner on his team, especially one as even-tempered as Qin Su seems to be, would be a great benefit to Jiang Cheng's mental health.

1b) On Qin Su's side: Literally any marriage partner who is not her half-brother would be better for her. Okay, that's a low bar to clear, but genuinely speaking, Madame Jiang is an extremely good post for any cultivator lady looking for a good marriage. They're not AS rich as the Jin, but they're certainly rich enough (demonstrated in the post-timeskip) to meet any woman's needs. We also know that Qin Su admires and is attracted by a brave cultivator and is not put off by her partner having seen war and killed people. Sect Leader Jiang is a good catch and Madame Jiang is a good post. There is not even a mother-in-law to worry about; she would be the uncontested Lady of Lotus Pier.

1c) Also, they could have children, who would not need to be murdered later to cover up surprise incest. Again: very low bar to clear, and yet.

2. what new problems does the ship create?

This ship generates an entirely new raft of problems depending on when exactly they get together.

2a) If the matchup happens during or after Sunshot -- say, if it happened to be Jiang Cheng who rescued Qin Su rather than Meng Yao -- then that causes the least problems, as it avoids the surprise-incest trap altogether. However, that gives the problem of Wei Wuxian. Qin Su will now be tied to the Sect that is tied to the most infamous man in the world, with all the attendant headaches. She's a nice lady, but it would be asking a lot for any woman to put up with that political AND emotional shitshow as a BIL without protest. Though she might try, for Jiang Cheng's sake.

For his side… I think that Wei Wuxian, as insane as he can be about Jiang Cheng, would not put up any overt resistance to this marriage. I think that he would recognize that this is a valid move for Jiang Cheng to make and that Qin Su is a valid partner, and he might even be able to clear the bar of being able to recognize that this situation is not Qin Su's fault and not lash out at her overtly. However, it is going to fuck him up emotionally, on top of a whole boatload of other destabilizing factors, and it is entirely possible that his grief and resentment for The Person Who Took Jiang Cheng Away From Me would emerge in some oblique and unconscious form. When your necromantic poisonous zombie-controlling magic can be influenced to action by your repressed emotions, that's not good!

While I think Jin Zixuan would still be ahead of Qin Su in the list of Collateral Damage Targets just because he's known and disliked him for longer… there is still some potential for trouble, if Wei Wuxian and Qin Su are in too much contact.

2b) If the matchup happens after Wei Wuxian's death, but before marriage to Jin Guangyao/conception of Rusong -- this is possibly the best outcome for all involved, but it's an extremely narrow window. This scenario would require 2A to happen, diverting her from falling in love with Meng Yao, but for them to wait until after Nightless City 2 to actually marry; or, it would require Madame Qin's secret to break early enough for her and JGY to call off their courtship before Rusong's conception. (Or for Jiang Cheng to be willing to take a wife already pregnant with Jin Guangyao's child, which might be reputation-suicide depending on how far along she is or how widely this fact is known.) If they somehow managed to thread that needle, other problems would at least be postponed for a decade or so until Wei Wuxian comes back (possibly deferred permanently, but possibly not, see point 3.)

2c) If the matchup happens post-canon -- if Qin Su somehow survives canon events -- then there are no further landmines. The worst that can happen has already happened. Unfortunately that also means that the stigma of incest with and widowhood from the Jianghu's new #1 pariah will follow Qin Su into her new household, possible for the rest of her life, and likely taint Jiang Cheng by association. If he's willing to stick it out, though, they could possibly have a happy ending.

2d) And finally, no matter when it happens in this timeline, there is still the problem I discovered when I actually wrote ChengSu in Undeath of a Salesman: having a wife and potentially children in play is irrevocably going to shift Jiang Cheng's priorities, even away from his lost Shixiong-lenore. No matter what feelings he continues to have about Wei Wuxian, he is dutiful enough that he WILL put his wife first, simply because his father didn't. This might or might not be a good thing, depending on the third question, which is…

3. what in-law drama does the ship cause?

So the issue here is that Qin Su is still related to Jin Guangyao -- whether or not the two of them were ever married -- and that means that the chance of them being dragged into ugly Jin drama is high. It seems likely that Nie Mingjue's murder and Nie Huaisang's revenge will still happen in this timeline regardless of whether Qin Su marries Jin Guangyao or not. That means that there is still a chance that a) her heritage could still come out, causing scandal to her and thus to the Jiang, and b) Nie Huaisang could try to use Qin Su as a lever against Jin Guangyao, regardless of whether they were ever entangled. Can we imagine a recast of the Guanyin Temple sequence where Qin Su is somehow present -- perhaps collected as a valuable hostage to ensure Sect Leader Jiang's compliance -- and Nie Mingjue/Baxia goes after her for her Jin blood the same way he went after Jin Ling in canon? Can we imagine that Jin Ling is still present, and also a target, and Wen Ning can only save one of them?

call for propaganda

looking to advance from the golden core brainrot stage to the nascent soul brainrot stage - in other words, looking to get into more jiang cheng ships lol

everyone please respond with propaganda for your favorite jiang cheng ship

for maximal propaganda effectiveness please follow this format:

what existing problems does the ship solve?

what new problems does the ship create?

what in-law drama does the ship cause?

imo an ideal ship has content for all 3 questions

please and thank yew

[thestorieswesay]

For the blorbo asks: 4, 6, 13, and 24!!

#4: what’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo?

Nicholas Rush: I love that he is horrible. Just a little gremlin of a man. I have another blorbo (Soren from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance) who basically says in his second scene, "If they're not paying us, I don't see why we shouldn't just leave them all to die..." and that's all it took for him to steal my heart. In Rush's first episode, he strands 80+ people on a derelict spaceship 'several billion lightyears' from Earth with no way back because he wants his life to have some meaning after the tragic death of his wife. And then once they're on that derelict spaceship and there is a huge fucking problem that is going to kill everyone unless someone sacrifices themselves to fix it, he suggests making a list of everyone's skills so the least valuable person is the one to die. That made me love him beyond all measure (in his next major scene, he was then beaten up by a 19 year old polysci major who probably weighed 110 pounds soaking wet and that made me love him even more, lmao).

Nikola Tesla: Much like Stargate Universe, where, when I told my friend I had started watching it, she immediately interrupted to tell me that 'it gets better the further along you get' and I was like 'GORL I LOVED IT FROM THE FIRST TEN MINUTES', when I was introduced to Nikola Tesla, I was told 'he gets so much better in the later episodes' and I was like 'GORL I LOVED HIM IN HIS FIRST SCENE' (said first scene involves him walking into a crowded lecture hall and pass a note to the speaker that has Nikola Tesla's actual handwriting and capitalizes the word 'Three' when actual Nikola Tesla was obsessed with threes (like me!)). The note says "You will be killed in less than Three minutes. Meet me Now. -Tesla -P.S. You look hot." That's really all it took. He's a terrible, wretched little wet-cat, potentially-bisexual disaster of a man and I adore him.

#6: if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

For Methos, I would thank him for teaching me that our pasts do not define us and that we contain multitudes. For Rush, I would thank him for showing me that it's okay to be changed by death and to never really recover from mental illness and (potential, in his case) autism and that we don't have to be normal as long as we have purpose. I would tell him that we all have purpose, even if others don't meet our impossibly high standards. I would tell Nikola that I am getting the spraybottle if he doesn't learn to behave. I would put acid in it and he would deserve it.

#13: is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

I think if someone was a rapist I would stop hyperfixating on them. I love Spike and will excuse his almost-rape towards Buffy because he was a) a vampire with no soul, possessed by a demon that made him want to be horrible and b) they had been playing consent games for a while (and arguable there was a questionable encounter between the two of them a little bit earlier in the season where she was invisible and began stripping and giving him a blowjob when he a) didn't know she was there and b) who she was, and he only figured it out once he felt her mouth on him and recognized the familiarity - that scene always stuck out to me in a bad taste way and I have never seen anyone else comment on it - it's played for laughs in the scene but it left me feeling some kind of way). But I love writing some of my faves as rapists all the time (sorry Everett Young, John Druitt, David Telford, David Nolan, et. al. not sorry August Booth, I don't like you), so I don't even know if THAT'S off the table. Basically, they're all fictional so they could commit massive war crimes and they would be my pathetic meow meows, so :shrug:

#24: if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

I would make them all canon bisexual, all the way. I know it says one thing but I have two, lol - I would also like to make Rush canon autistic, and maybe Nikola too, even though he's far more personable and savvy than actual Nikola Tesla ever was (I do believe actual Nikola Tesla WAS autistic for what it's worth).