#i like short hair is just all these chinese novel where everyone has long hair make me sad(?

[sweetpiccolo-blog]

hii, here about the mashups

what i like to do as hobbies are reading novels (especially romance), watching movies, dancing and workout.

i have asian features, my height is 161 cm. have a brown hair that reach my lower back and also a very dark brown eyes.

i speak fluent indonesian and english, because i am from indonesia. also speaks German since i am currently studying in Germany. can also understand some mandarin (bcs i'm half chinese) and korean.

I am actually an ambivert but my mbti says that i am leaning more towards the extrovert side (ENFJ) 😂. always shy around some new people that i met, but can be really talkative and "crazy" if i am comfortable with them. my zodiac sign is Leo.

i like to cook and go for a walk around a lake or just enjoying the nature. really like to travel to new countries and cities. also love Dogs and been a Ferrari and Redbull fan since i started watching F1.

i really dislike chemistry with a passion and insects.

thank you in advance 🫶🏻

Hi fellow ENFJ!!! How are your studies in Germany? I find it very impressive that you study so far away from your home. Hope you like these matches!💙: D

A/N: Hey guys, I want to apologize for the wait. I deeply appreciate your asks and I want to write them, but I kinda have to balance school, sleep and work. I could write faster but I do not want to half-ass the asks. I enjoy answering them and I wanna be sure I do my best on all of them. It might take longer for me to answer you, but do not worry, I see your requests and I will write for you. Thank you for the patience<3

This is only my opinion, so be sure to let me know what you think about it later : )

LET US GET STARTED!

Header by @dvluc

Your match is...

☆ Daniel Ricciardo☆

Even though you are shy at first with strangers, I feel like you and Daniel would instantly click together. With his charm, you would feel yourself loosening up and letting out your playfulness in a short while. He would match your “crazy” energy and get into trouble together with you. There is nothing on your job atm? You bet he is taking you along to do with him whatever he had planned without telling you what it is.

You want something? You get it. He is willing to do literally anything for you. Because you give him enough support by just being with him. His cheeks hurt from how much he smiles when you are together, but its not like he minds.

Spending time in nature… expect to get dirty. Hikes, road biking and swimming are on the programme. Even a walk can turn into a whole day adventure, because you had such a heated conversation that you didn’t notice you got off the track. A common activity would be taking the dogs from nearby shelter for a walk, even into the nature, since you can´t have a dog- Daniel travels a lot and he doesn’t want to leave not only you but your furry child as well.

I think everyone has seen Daniel dancing, so he is no stranger to grooving. When your favourite song plays, he jumps up and starts spinning you around. Don’t expect some professional moves from him though. It is just for fun to get the blood pumpin´!

You would travel a lot together. Its more fun like that. Getting to know new places together, enjoying the atmosphere and various cultures. I feel like going to countries which languages you can speak is on your to-do list. Showing Daniel where you study/studied in Germany, visiting Indonesia together and so on. You hating insects would make you not want to stay for long in Australia but Daniel swears to protect you from any creature that crawls into a 5 meter radius to you so no worries there. He’s your hero!

Of course there are days when you two don’t feel like doing much so just simply staying at home and binge watching a show or movies and cooking yourself something would do the magic. Even the most energetic people need to recharge sometimes.

BONUS: He constantly asks you what books you are reading, what they are about, how far did you get, how did it end and so on. He knows you like them and he even sometimes tries to act out certain scenes from the books and even if it doesn't work out, at least he got to make you laugh : )

[glassesandhighheels188]

kuhn's ponytail is impossible

so i'm think that siu grew their hair just for check and then we get the s2 ponytail

[sixteenthshen]

Episode 1 Notes/Meta

Contains minor spoilers up to Youtube's schedule and references to the novel

Since I don’t have any new episodes to watch until Friday, I decided to watch the drama all over again, very closely, to see if there’s anything new to discover.

Zhou Zishu's character: 

Drama immediately sets the backdrop/tells us why his character is kinder, more compassionate than in the novel. We don't know that drama!ZZS is kinder yet at this time, but we can see that he's schemey and sneaky

He wears a mask of indifference as the Window of Heaven's leader (sorry ZZH, I was wrong. I thought your acting was stiff during one scene, but now I know better). It's one of the many subtle faces of ZZS.

Wen Kexing's character:

He must be a highly-skilled martial artist based on how easily he kills two ghosts and that he can spot another skilled martial artist from a distance (beggar Zhou)

He's quite schemey. First, when he orders all his subordinates out to hunt for a man he just killed. Next, when he lets Gu Xiang go to check on the beggar, he's also subtly using her to test that unknown person's martial arts skills.

Why they're soulmates:

WKX understood immediately what "beggar" Zhou was doing (suntanning)

They're both well-matched schemey bastards

Behind the cut, geographical details and some details about the supporting characters. This is a very text-heavy post FYI

In chronological order:

20 years ago, Rong Xuan was killed by the Five Lakes Alliance and the gathered heroes.

Prince Jin is based far away in the North (Hedong 河东), where he holds power. It implies most of the story later takes place closer to the south of China.

Prince Jin ordered the Window of Heaven (TC in short, for Tian Chuang) to assassinate the Military Governor of Zhenwu (Officer Li). The Zhenwu Army is located somewhere around Inner Mongolia today.

Prince Jin falsely claims the Military Governor is a traitor to the country and has him assassinated. Prince Jin harbours treasonous thoughts, and in turn, makes ZZS and TC traitors.

Officer Li recognized Zhou Zishu by sight (calls him Officer Zhou), which means that they must have met previously somehow. He is shocked to know that ZZS is the leader of TC, so TC must be a secret assassin/spy organization (like an ancient CIA)

Zhou Zishu gets a drop of blood on his sword and flicks it off – he does not like blood.

Princess Jing An knows ZZS and first calls him Zhou shixiong (her first instinct is to use a familiar address). She later changes it to Officer Zhou when she realizes what he did.

Princess Jing An quotes, "The flowers blossom in all four seasons, knowing everything in the world", which makes ZZS turn to look at her - he sees the hairpin that his shidi Qin Jiuxiao made for the one he loves. ZZS gets super sad.

This line of poetry refers to the Four Seasons Manor (ZZS's martial arts sect)

ZZS, during his time as a court official, intentionally has a blank mask, so his emo is seen only in his slightly teary eyes.  Removing this mask is also part of the freedom he seeks. Possibly symbolic that he feels freer living behind a physical mask than he does with his face.

Prince Jin ordered ZZS to personally nail the seven nails into Bi Chang Feng (Uncle Bi). It seems somewhat cruel of the Prince. ZZS walks with 2 of his commanders – Duan Pengju and Han Ying.

Uncle Bi calls ZZS Manor Lord (庄主)*. He says he cannot help but suspect the motives of Prince Jin. ZZS shows a slight reaction to this. He knows the motivations of Prince Jin by now. Not only is he a traitor himself, but he dragged all his 81 men down with him.

This is the root cause of ZZS's different personality traits in the drama and novel. I think his character in both the book and drama adaption is similar, but his additional compassion stems from being placed in different circumstances.

Novel!ZZS did terrible things for the right reasons. As a result, he won't feel as guilty and has less reason to be so compassionate.

Drama!ZZS followed the wrong master, and the awful things he did were for treasonous reasons. There's no justification for the lives he took. Because he did worse things, he's better able to "see the light" and understand things in life better. Therefore, kinder.

The motto of the Window of Heaven (as requested by Prince Jin):

The members are to carry out their missions without leaving a trace (shadow without traces)

Once a person enters TC, they're never to leave (entry without exit.)

To know everything and to be everywhere.

When the camera cuts to ZZS's two senior officers, Han Ying shuts his eyes sadly while Duan Pengju has a slight smile on his face 🤨🤨.

Nails of Seven Torments (七窍三秋钉) – seven nails, each to be driven into the seven primary acupoints (for martial arts) in a person's body. After that, a person won't get to see more than three autumns. They would lose their martial arts ability entirely, and their five senses deteriorate over time, preventing the secrets of TC from being leaked. (see #2 of their motto)

ZZS does not like anyone who's not from his sect to call him Manor Lord, as it's a reminder of his failings. He doesn't think he has the right to be called that any longer since he ruined his sect.

Prince Jin calls ZZS by his name directly (Zishu); it implies a certain level of familiarity. However, ZZS hasn't been presented himself in front of Prince Jin in some time, suggesting he has already distanced himself from Prince Jin (and a certain level of disrespect)

From Duan Pengju, we learn that ZZS hadn't taken up his sword much in the past year due to a lingering injury; this time at the Military Governor's residence was the first time he wielded his sword in a while.

DPJ also uses this word again (又) in Chinese to describe ZZS aggravating his injuries again (that isn't in the YT subs), which implies that he has suffered other internal injuries before, not solely from QJX's death. DPJ is subtly suggesting to Prince Jin that ZZS is no longer very fit and not suitable for his role (shows us his ambition).

ZZS's current injury (that Uncle Bi refers to and why he coughed up blood in the snow) came about after Qin Jiuxiao's (shidi) death. He coughed up blood then and fainted.**

ZZS's residence is called Chongming Garden (重明苑), where he has a mural of 82 white flowers and the line of poetry about the Four Seasons Manor. He paints each flower red when one of his original sect members pass away. There's only one white flower left --- himself.  See this link for a more detailed translation.

ZZS scolds a vision of his shidi not to cry. ZZS's assertion that men shouldn't cry comes up several times later. His eyes only get teary after this scene, and not a single tear falls again (still canon for now).

ZZS has an official court position. He's an Imperial Guard with some seniority, and it's likely why the Military Governor calls him Officer Li. (A governor would not call a low ranked Imperial Guard “Officer” 大人 daren)

ZZS has several battle wounds from a blade, but the ones on his back (shoulder blades) look messy. Not sure what they are yet, but I think it could become relevant later.

Prince Jin appears unstable when he talks about everyone leaving him. Yunxing and Beiyuan are both characters from Lord Seventh. Beiyuan is the titular character of that novel. When Prince Jin said, "Beiyuan is gone too", ZZS displays a minute reaction because he knows Beiyuan isn't actually dead.

Prince Jin says ZZS is ruthless, but he's even more so to himself (recurring description).

Here, we see that ZZS knows of DPJ's ambition to take over his job when he says they both get their wishes today. DPJ becomes the new TC leader.

Prince Jin lets ZZS go. As he watches ZZS leave, he recites two lines from a poem, which title roughly translates to "on one's deathbed/imminent death".***

“涓涓江汉流，天窗通冥室。谗邪害公正，浮云翳白日。” Small streams can become large rivers; even a window as small as a skylight can brighten a dark room. Rumours and evil can harm the public good; clouds can block the bright light of the sun.

There's some foreshadowing here. Prince Jin sees ZZS leaving as a threat. It could be that one person leaving TC "standing" may lead to an exodus or that ZZS knows too much to be left alive outside for long. Prince Jin sees himself as the righteous and the sun here. He follows the recital by saying he's only letting ZZS go for now.

ZZS's beggar styling is supposed to juxtapose his strict and neat dress as the leader of TC, including his hair and overall CBAssed-ness of how his clothes hang.

Hanged ghost died super quick. We see an arm covered in a red sleeve strangle him to death. Red sleeve dude seems to be the head of the Ghost Valley (yaaaaa we know who you are)

WKX lies to the masses about the Hanged Ghost and tells them to set forth out of the Ghost Valley. We can see that all of them are scared of him. He has a scheme -- but we don’t know what it is yet.

WKX and ZZS meet (yay!!!) in Yue (modern-day Zhejiang, in the south), far away from Prince Jin. We should note that this is very far away from the North, where Prince Jin and TC hold power.

ZZS would rather be a beggar than the Emperor. The freedom to live and do whatever he chooses is more important to him than riches or power.

WKX understood what ZZS was doing right away (while GX thinks he's a beggar). This is why they're soulmates!

Gu Xiang's cuteness comes off as a little forced here, but upon re-watching, I believe it's because she hasn't been out in the "human world" before. Her mannerisms are all learned from her life in the Ghost Valley. She's also about ten years younger than WKX, so she's supposed to be more energetic.

WKX allows GX to go down partly because he is curious about the beggar, who seems to be very skilled at martial arts. GX is quite a straightforward and innocent person. She's unaware that she's helping to test the beggar's skills for her master.

WKX notices the ZZS's martial arts and stands up right away. This scene is also more important than it seems to be at first. Later in episode 2, it's revealed that he recognized the beggar's particular martial arts as unique to the Four Seasons Manor sect. I think it's the first hint that beggar Zhou may be "Zhou Zishu". (We find out that WKX knows ZZS's real name in episode 6.)

ZZS intentionally hits himself to make himself seem like a poor injured beggar and GX a bully. It shows that ZZS is sneaky – and again, ruthless, even to himself.

* ZZS is not a real lord. He's the sect leader (Manor Lord comes about because his sect's name ends in Manor, and the address "my lord" comes from Manor Lord). ** This is a fictional type of injury, where people in Chinese historical dramas cough up blood when they suffer severe emotional shocks that cause some unexplained internal injury. *** 《临终诗》

[xiyao-feels]

I'm so confused. can jgy reincarnate or be resurrected? I know fanfic can take liberties but I've read conflicting things. plus the untamed didn't show his body or explain anything and I believe the novel says something else entirely? 😔🥺😕

So "can JGY reincarnate or be resurrected" is not a question I can really properly answer. My understanding is that the answer is yes if he's not stuck in the coffin (and a friend of mine has read a bunch of Chinese fic, albeit through Google translate, where stuff like that does in fact happen), but I'm not confident I'd know it if the answer were no! So I'm afraid I can't really help you there, I'm sorry. This is normally where I'd link you stuff from people who know more than I do but while I know I've seen stuff on the subject apparently I didn't save it, and I couldn't find anything relevant searching, either. That'll teach me not to save my links...

But I can show you what happened to JGY in MDZS, and then contrast with CQL! Let's go.

So, end of ch. 108, JGY pushes LXC away from the coffin and NMJ (not, note, out of the temple, which isn't crumbling!) and then NMJ immediately drags him into the coffin and kills him:

Yet, just as the hand was an instant from grasping Lan XiChen’s neck, Jin GuangYao used the only hand he had left to strike Lan XiChen’s chest, pushing Lan XiChen away.

He, himself, on the other hand, was dragged into the coffin by Nie MingJue, then held up like holding a puppet. The scene was beyond frightening. Jin GuangYao used his one hand to peel away at Nie MingJue’s steel-like palm. He struggled ceaselessly from the pain, hair tangled, as heavy malice shot from his eyes. He cursed with all the energy he had left, “Fuck you, Nie MingJue! You think I’m really scared of you?! I…”

With much difficulty, he coughed up some blood. Everyone present heard a crack that was abnormally clear and brutal.

A whimper of a last breath left Jin GuangYao’s throat.

There's a last short couple of sentences about JL's reaction, and then at the beginning of 109 you immediately have:

Lan XiChen staggered a few steps back from the push. He hadn’t realized what happened yet. Meanwhile, Lan WangJi struck the back of the fair-featured Guanyin statue at the center of the temple. The statue vibrated as it flew towards the coffin. Nie MingJue was still inspecting the corpse in his hand, the head had already dipped. As the heavy statue hit him, he fell right back where he’d been.

Wei WuXian leaped over and stepped onto the Guanyin’s chest. The coffin lid had broken already. They could only use the Guanyin statue as a lid to seal away Nie MingJue and his rampage. Down below, Nie MingJue struck the statue again and again in attempt to break free, while Wei WuXian also shook again and again, reeling so much he was almost thrown off.

And then LWJ lifts the coffin up, seals it with seven quqin strings and lets it fall again to the ground.

Then for the rest of chapter 109 and the beginning of 110, LXC and then WWX ask NHS some questions, after which:

After a while of silence, Wei WuXian spoke, “Let’s stop standing around for nothing. Get a few people to go find assistance. Save a few to stand by here and watch the thing. The coffin and the guqin strings won’t be able to seal ChiFeng-Zun for long.”

As though to verify his judgement, loud noises echoed within the coffin again, along with a nameless fury. Nie HuaiSang shivered. Wei WuXian glanced at him, “You see? You have to switch to a firmer coffin right now, dig a deep ditch, and bury it once more. You won’t be able to open it in at least a hundred years. If you do, it’s guaranteed it’ll continue to haunt, resulting in endless consequences…”

Right after this, the crowd comes pouring in. Some of them do indeed work on strengthening the seal; we're also told that it requires careful handling (which is why it's a few of the sect leaders who volunteer to handle it), and WWX anticipates the near future of the coffin:

Soon, this coffin would be sealed within a larger, firmer coffin. It’d be secured with seventy-two mahogany nails and buried deep underground, sealed under some mountain with stone tablets of warning.

Then we see some sect leaders carrying it outside the temple, and later LQR watches it be hauled onto a cart.

The next we hear of it is in overheard rumour in ch 113, three months later:

Someone switched the subject, “Enough, enough. Why talk about these things? Eat up, eat up No matter how powerful that Jin GuangYao used to be, right now he could be stuck in a coffin brawling with Nie MingJue.”

“I don’t think so. They loathe each other to the core, after all. I bet his bones have already been torn apart by Nie MingJue.”

“Indeed! I went to the sealing ceremony. The resentful energy in that coffin was so strong that no life grew within five hundred feet of it. I’m doubting it, really—could the coffin really seal them for a hundred years?”

Overheard rumour is not the most reliable of things, especially in MDZS—for example, I would not be surprised if it wasn't really five hundred feet. But it gives any sense, and certainly—as WWX indicated above—the coffin is /meant/ to seal them for a hundred years. (Though I have my doubts on this actually working; see here.)

Now let's look at CQL:

After JGY breaks the seal on the coffin, the blood drops onto the Tiger Seal, and resentful energy emerges and the temple starts to crumple; pretty much everyone but wangxian and xiyao flee the temple. LXC lifts his hand to push JGY away, but can't bring himself to do it; JGY asks him to stay and die with him, and he agrees. JGY then pushed him away to save his life, and wangxian catch him and LWJ brings him out of the temple to make sure he actually leaves insead of e.g. running right back in to die with JGY. WWX stays and watches a little; we see JGY turn and confront the resentful energy: "Nie Mingjue. Do you think I will be afraid of you?" The temple continues to collapse, WWX flees, and JGY runs towards the coffin.

(I'm having a hard time with the blocking on this one, I watched it a few times and it looks like they are a) immediately over the coffin when JGY bleeds on it and then immediately after they're...not? Despite not moving??? But the above is what I think is supposed to be going on.)

They're then sitting around in the courtyard outside. They seem to have been sitting around for a while even before WWX's wound heals (not a feature in MDZS, because in MDZS MXY's revenge didn't include JGY); it seems likely that JGY died before that, I think, but that's at least an end point. After this the cultivators rush into the courtyard. Now we finally get people going into the temple again, but there doesn't seem to be any sign or mention of sealing. I thought I remembered mention if a ceremony of some sort, but I can't find it in the rest of the episode and a friend doesn't remember it at all so I think it's pretty likely I was just misremembering/crossing it with MDZS.

But basically: in MDZS, they seal them together /immediately/ after JGY dies, and they proceed very quickly to a stronger, more permanent seal. In CQL, there's no sign of any of this at all! It seems quite plausible that they're not buried together, never mind sealed together. And regardless, it couldn't have happened nearly as immediately; JGY's spirit could have time to flee the coop.

It's also worth remembering that in MDZS when they seal the coffin at the end, it's to immediately deal with /fierce corpse NMJ/, who otherwise would be an extremely powerful, extraordinarily dangerous fierce corpse, made even worse—as WWX notes in ch 107—by having killed JGY.* In CQL it looks like the problem is more the Tiger Seal, I think? And it's not like they need to immediately seal it into the coffin which JGY is also in? It's not even clear that JGY's body actually ends up in the coffin, from what I can see. As far as I can tell there's not really any reason to believe they're buried together. If I had to guess (though I didn't rewatch all relevant scenes, or even all the temple scenes, and I could easily be missing something) I'd say NMJ might be going back to Honourable Burial Nie Land, and JGY's corpse....

Hmmm. That's kind of interesting, come to think of it. If it hasn't mysteriously vanished I'm not sure what would happen to it; I'm inclined to say it wouldn't be treated well except LXC is right there and he might like. Stab someone, honestly. If it /has/ mysteriously vanished—I just might change my mind about CQL LXC killing himself.** In Which a Twin Jade obsessively searches the world for their loved one because there's the possibility they might not be dead, huh.

*"After he killed Jin GuangYao, his killing intent would definitely become stronger, and he’d be more difficult to subdue!"

**I don't think this is the impression CQL as a whole is trying to give us, to be clear, it's just what I think happened.

[letteredlettered]

hi! ive been following your writing for a few years now and i drop by periodically to check if you have anything new posted, and im really surprised that you seem to be enjoying the untamed? im curious what you think about the show - its story and characters, the acting, the production, etc. idk if you know, but the untamed is the most successful example of a current trend in chinese entertainment, where popular online novels centered around a gay romance is adapted into a 'safe' drama.

continued:

due to the many explicit and implicit restrictions imposed on creative media in china, many crucial plot points have to be changed (often badly) or removed, including the nature of the relationship between the main characters. the untamed is considered the most loyal adaptation so far, but like all other works in the genre, it received criticism for weak acting and queerbaiting. that's why im really curious about what you think of the show as it is, as itself, free from its context.

if you're interested, you could also check out guardian! it features much better performance and chemistry by the leads imo, but the story was heavily botched bc the original incorporates and reinvents a lot of classic chinese folklore beautifully and stuff like that is considered disrespectful and not-pc. i think it's really sad how so many great pieces of writing with complex world-building and plotlines are simplified into... idek what to call them, but just, less than what they are.

im sorry this turned into a rant. as a mainland chinese person with oh so many frustrations about our current society, it's hard to comprehensively describe my feelings about the untamed's popularity. it's the first mainland chinese show/movie to gain this much organic interest abroad so i should be glad? but, but. anyway, yes, im sorry.

There’s no need to apologize for ranting, but I admit to some confusion as to whether you want your question addressed or the rant. Because I’m me and tend to be thorough, I’ll address everything, in reverse order.

First of all, I’m sorry that this show is sad to you. I’m sorry that the popularity of it is difficult. I’m also deeply sympathetic to your frustrations about your society, as I too am deeply frustrated by my own.

Secondly, yes, I’m aware of the context of The Untamed. I’m aware that the book it’s based on is a BL novel, and that, in order to align with Chinese politics, overt queerness was erased from the adaptation. I’m aware of the censure laws of gay media in China. I’m also aware that some aspects of necromancy and morality were adjusted to make the show more palatable for general audiences, but I’m fuzzier on those details. Lastly, I’m aware that the popularity of the show calls attention to certain things, such as fanfic, and that attention results in more censorship,

The fact of this erasure and this censure provokes a lot of questions: by consuming this product, which contains erasure and censure, do we engage in the erasure and censure? By posting gifs and writing fanfic and talking about this product, do we increase its popularity, thereby encouraging additional erasure and censure? By increasing the popularity of this product, do we diminish the popularity of the original gay morally gray canon, thereby decreasing representation? Do we discourage other authors in China from writing explicitly gay morally gray material? In short, are we allowed to enjoy this media?

I don’t know the answer to these questions. However, I do know that boycott is a very effective tool when it can inflict economic pain on the producer, or when it can exert pressure on an entity to change. That said, I feel like a lot of the calls to boycott certain media these days are a lot like telling people to stop driving their cars to stop climate change: it’s suggesting that individuals can solve the problem, which presupposes individuals are the problem, and therefore fails to address the scope of the problem, or present the possibility of a real solution. Not watching The Untamed isn’t going to change laws about portrayals of homosexuality onscreen in China, partly because the laws in China are a much bigger problem.

The other part of it is that The Untamed is coded queer, so if you run a successful boycott against it, you end up with . . . less queer TV. I know a whole lot less about China than I do about the Hays Code, but if you had told gay people during the Golden Age of Hollywood that they couldn’t enjoy movies that were coded queer because they weren’t explicitly queer, they’d have said you were crazy. In fact, many people will tell you that media that was coded queer was a big reason we got more explicit queer stuff later. And as I’m sure you’re aware, the US is still fighting that battle . . . partly because it wants to sell movies to China.

So then there’s a question about whether me, an American in the US, liking something coded queer from China but not explicitly queer--does that encourage Chinese censorship? Should I only support texts that are explicitly queer? But the answer is the same--it’s not addressing the scope of the problem, and by supporting texts that are coded queer, you could be paving the way in the future for something brighter.

But you weren’t talking about boycott! You were talking about your discomfort with the popularity with this show, which I accept. I understand feeling uncomfortable. I can only hope it makes you a bit more comfortable to know that plenty of fans are deeply aware of the context and do wrestle with the question of what liking this show means in the context of a society that would never allow aspects of the original to be portrayed onscreen.

Thirdly, I’m not against trying Guardian at some point, but by comparing the acting and chemistry of the leads to The Untamed, I feel like you prove our tastes are very different in these regards. I love the acting of the leads in The Untamed; I found their chemistry off the charts. It’s okay you don’t feel the same.

Lastly, you asked my opinion of The Untamed: its story and characters, the acting, the production, sans context of the canon upon which its based and censorship laws in China.

a. I love the overall story, but the plot has deep plot holes. Quite a few segments do not actually make sense to me, because the plot is so haywire. However, I’ve never cared that much about plot, except when it gets in the way of characters and themes, and for the most part, this plot serves its characters and themes, except when the parts they leave out are so confusing that I cannot follow the story. As for the story, it feels like it’s built for me, because ultimately it’s about moral decisions and how to make them; it’s about guilt and paying for mistakes; it’s about learning, changing your mind, and remaking yourself. Really, I’m not sure there are many stories I love more--except they killed my favorite character, and I almost quit. So, that certainly put a damper on things.

b. I love the characters most of all, although the villains are really two-dimensional. However, large parts of the plot are not Hero vs Villain, they’re Hero vs Society, and then some Hero vs Himself in a way that suggests the Hero is no longer a hero. I could talk about the characters forever, but suffice it to say I think they’re really strong. Also, the relationships are really exquisite, particularly when it comes to family dynamics. Unfortunately, they killed my favorite character off. Also unfortunately, there are six women in this show, only two of them are main characters, and every single one of them dies. It disgusts me.

c. I think the two leads are exceptional, in particular Xiao Zhan . . . when he’s not being too broad, which he is quite a bit. However, I do wonder how much of this is direction and production style, because in many instances, he’s quite subtle, and the choices he makes are astounding. Then there are times where it’s like they needed more footage, or wanted to drive home a point, and he turns on the extra, and it’s awful. It could just be him, but I actually feel it’s the case with most of the actors, which does make me think it’s a directing issue. Meng Ziyi never really has that problem though, because she is the most perfect of all. But then take He Peng, who I actually thought could be incredible, but every scene was just SO BROAD that I began to feel sorry for the poor dude having to act that part. But there is nothing to be said for Wang Zhuo Cheng, who really is just terrible, which is sad, because it’s a great part.

d. Production-wise, it’s really hit and miss. So much of the locations are truly beautiful. A lot of the costumes are too, unless the shot is too close. I actually don’t mind the wigs; I love the long hair. The CGI is terrible. And then while a lot of the shots are beautiful, some of them are awkward, and the pacing is really difficult, imo. It really seems like they wanted to drag it out, and there are so, so many scenes where I’m sort of embarrassed that we’re in the same scene or that we’re still looking at someone’s face, or that everyone is just standing there waiting for the shot to finally end.

I will say that film is a language that does differ from culture to culture. It could be that both the broadness of the acting and the awkwardness of the editing are my cultural lens based on American and a lot of western film. When I watched older Hollywood films, the acting is a lot more broad and maybe a little less “true” feeling, but I understand that it’s not the case everyone in the past was a bad actor. It was just a different style, so I’m not sure I’m equipped with the cultural knowledge of Chinese acting, cinematography, and editing to be able to really judge the value of these things.

I do know how I feel, which is that the editing is the biggest hurdle for me while watching the show. However, I feel that the beauty of it makes up for a lot, and the strength of the characters and themes really carries it.

I hope I addressed your points adequately, and I wish you well.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Yamal Mission

In the first book IV quest of Dragon Raja appears to take place immediately after Luminous is installed as the Student Union President. However, this is not the case in the novels.

In the game, right after you celebrate Luminous’s new job, you are called in for a mission from EVA that will send you on a mission with Johann on the “Luxury Cruise ship.”

However, in the novel, Johann’s mission takes place a full year after these two scenes!!! I’m not sure why they did this, your character in the game should have reflected a whole year’s worth of new dragonslaying experience. At this point, your character is not a freshman, but a student well into their second year.

It also doesn’t make sense that Johann is in charge of the mission when the School Board tends to prioritize Hybrid bloodline over experience. For example, in Book 2, Johann is reporting to Luminous in the Quest to find the King of Earth and Mountains even though Luminous is otherwise inferior in everyway. It makes no sense that on a lesser quest of investigation, he’s your supervisor.

I just wanted to clarify these things to anyone who is going to do these quests in case they become confusing later.

Anyway, below is the translation of the second half of the Story Quest for 118

72 degrees north latitude, Greenland Sea

Under the dark night, the big scarlet boat rushed through the broken ice, leaving a 20 meter wide blue-black waterway behind.

This place is well within the Arctic Circle, and it is in the dead of winter. Although the sea surface is not completely frozen, the floating ice is all over the sea surface. Only this monster-class ice breaker dared to continue to rush towards the North Pole at this time.

The YAMAL, the world’s largest icebreaker, belonged to Russia. Two heavy water nuclear reactors provided it with almost endless power. The thick armored bow can easily smash a 6 meter iceberg. Among the icebreakers in the world, except for a few military monsters who identities cannot be disclosed, only this ship has sailed to the North Pole.

The tragedy of the Titanic will never happen to the YAMAL. What is an iceberg when you can just ram into it? The crew of the YAMAL has always  thought about the problem this way, which is why they can’t be hired by other polar cruise companies after they are retired... This group of people might end up driving an ordinary ship into an iceberg just out of habit.

“Hello! Hello! This is the YAMAL. We are sailing on he 72 degree North latitude line. Is there a dear friend nearby who can chat? I hope you’re an American with a sense of humor, ha! I met one German guy before who lived in Munich and he told a really cold joke. I didn’t get it until a week after I went ashore. Everyone thought I was crazy when I suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of a bar.”

A middle-aged Russian captain drank vodka straight from the bottle and yelled into the radio system, as if he were the host of an evening radio show.

The radio remained absolutely silent, without so much as static.

This was par for the course. In this season, there may be ten ships in the world that dared to sailed openly in the Arctic Ocean. At this moment, other ships  are either docked at military ports or scattered in other corners of the Arctic Ocean and the most advanced long-wave radio can only call a few hundreds of kilometers out.

In other words, they sail in a dead end space where almost no one can reach. A crew who frequently runs this route can suffer depression if they’re not careful and the best medicine on board for this malady is alcohol.

The captain was just trying his luck after having a drink. If he happened to be able to call other polar ships, usually everyone would change voyage a little and go for a short period of time, staying close enough to each other to talk over the radio for an hour or two.

“Oh! I can’t find anyone to chat with tonight!” The captain sighed, “Then I’ll go to the casino to try my luck, Mr. Chief Officer, this ship will e handed over to you temporarily!”

He staggered out, completely unaware that the first mate entrusted with the task was drunk and had been lying on the steering wheel for half an hour.

The casino on board was magnificent. The warm air was wrapped in the rich smell of whiskey and high-end perfume. The Belarusian girl, standing 5′9″ and wearing high heels acted as the dealer. A waiter who can speak various languages enthusiastically advised the guests to experience the richness of Tibetan wine and hand-rolled cigars from Cuba. A source of enormous wealth has created a small Las Vegas in this lifeless dead-end space.

The YAMAL was originally planned to be used as a scientific research ship, and it assumed the strategic goal of the former Soviet Union to head towards the North Pole. However, after the disintegration of the Soviet Union, this strategic goal also fell into disuse. The hugely-built ship could not be left idle and was put to civilian use, transformed into a luxury gambling ship, cruising on the Arctic Ocean all year round.

The Arctic Ocean is the high seas, you can’t help but gamble. Plus, you can enjoy the polar scenery on the way. So even if the tickets are expensive, the ones for this “Christmas Journey” are sold out.

There are eleven floors on this ship. Six floors have been transformed into luxurious cabins. At the moment, these cabins are full of 1,200 tourists, plus a crew of almost 1,000 people and service personnel. This ship can be said to be a small city floating on the Arctic Ocean.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please look out from the porthole on the left. You will see a medium sized iceberg with a height of more than 25 meters. Anyone who knows ice bergs must know that only 1/10 of the volume of an iceberg will surface. The underwater part occupies 9/10. This means that the height of the entire iceberg is almost 250 meters, of which more than 200 re below the sea surface.”

The navigator’s voice echoed in the hall. “That ice berg is the giant remains of the ice sheet, and feel off the arctic Ice cap 32 years ago and is always floating in the nearby sea. In summer, it will move further north, and it winter, it will be close to the edge of the Arctic Circle. The crew affectionately calls it the “Mary Girl” but as you can see, after 32 years of melting, the once hugeg “mary Girl” has only 250 feet of ice left. This year maybe the last time that Mary Girl will accompany us on our ice sea journey. Goodbye, Mary Girl, we will miss you.”

The wall-like ice cliffs slid past the hull of the cliffs, showing a dazzling blue color The white water fowl stood on top of the Mary Girl, staring blankly at the red behemoth driving by. After that, it floats far away.

Few tourists actually went to see the last side of the Mary Girl. Sexy Belarusian girls, hot gambling games, and mellow wine, kept their eyes on the gaming table.

The captain woke up a bit from the wine, pace to the porthole, looked out and let out a faint puff of smoke.

“Is it like seeing off an old friend?” A very young voice spoke next to him, but it was low with an iceberg-like feel.

The captain raised his head and was surprised to find that there was a young man in a black suit standing beside him, with black hair and an extremely clear face, carrying an elegant suitcase in his hand and a long black bag on his shoulders. He should be Chinese, but his accent is standard American English. The captain had been standing by the porthole for five minutes but didn’t notice when the young man approached him.

“It is, isn’t it? Always sailing in such lonely waters, we give each iconic iceberg a girl’s name in our hearts. Mary is like a bright girl in white, waiting for us in this sea forever. Seeing her, we don’t need to look at the theodolite to know which area of the sea we’re sailing in.” The captain emotionally explained. “So what’s your name?”

“Chu. Chu Zihang.”

“is there anything I can do for you? Mr. Chu.”

“I want to see the captain.”

“Then you are looking for the right person!” The captain smiled and straightened his captain’s hat. “The name’s Sasha Rebarko, Captain of the Yamal. Ready to serve you!”

“No. I don’t want to se you. I want to see the real captain.” Chu Zihang said lightly.

The captain was stunned, a sharp light flashing in his pupils. But it was fleeting.

“How can there be two captains on a ship?” He shrugged. “Only when I am sick and unable to perform the duties of captain will the chief officer take over. As as you can see, I’m as strong as an ox!”

“Your real name is not Sasha Rebarko, but Alexander Rebarko. You were a major of the Alpha Special Forces of the Russian Federal  Security Service. After retiring in 2001, you were hired by the real captain. The ship’s technology is actually very rudimentary. This ship is usually managed by the chief mate, but you are a proficient marksman, skilled in unarmed combat, and practiced in using almost all military equipment. So You’re responsible for the security of the ship.”

“You have been married once, now divorced. Your parents live in St. Petersburg. You have a 16-year old sister.” Chu Zihang’s one was steady like this big ship, but the captain’s heartbeat was as steep and tortuous as the icebergs outside.

He subconsciously bent his knees slightly and leaned forward and his hands drew into his sleeves. This was an attempt to grasp the dagger hidden inside, but he felt empty.

This kind of “muscle memory” came from being trained to be very skillful with a knife. Major Alexaner Rebarko, when he was wearing the Alpha Force uniform, he would have had a dagger in his sleeve at all times.

But he hasn’t used the name Alexander in more than ten years. In order to sever his relationship with the past, he took great pains to change. He changed his address, phone number, broke off contacts with old friends and hired hackers to break into Alpha Forces serves to delete all his files. He performed a bit of facial surgery... Since then it was like Alpha Elite Major Alexander Rebarko had never existed in this world and was replaced by senior captain Sasha Rebarko.

Now the past buried by his own hands has been completely restored in the cold and plain narration of this young man, as if he were some sort of guardian angel that had seen his whole like with his own eyes.

Anyone, as long as he has existed in this world, will always leave countless marks, which can not be easily modified.” Chu Zihang finally said. “As long as the Cassell Academy is interested in anyone, they can always be investigated and found out.”

The people around them flowed like water around rocks.

After a long silence, Sasha’s body relaxed from being tight as a bow. He looked at Chu Zihang again. “Cassell Academy?”

Of course, they can’t really use force in such a public space. The offensive posture was just Sasha’s stress response.

Chu Zihang flipped the collar of his suit and showed Sasha the silver coat of arms pinned inside it. On the coat of arms was a huge tree with lush branches on one half and completely withered on the other half.

“I’ve never heard of it, and never seen that emblem.” Sasha shook his head.

“I think the captain may recognize this emblem. I’m referring to the real captain.”

“What do you want?”

“I just want to meet the captain. I know there is a hidden rule on this boat. The person who gambles the most is eligible to go up to see the captain.” Chu Zihang raised the suitcase in his hands. “I prepared funds before I arrived here.”

Sahsa glanced at the sturdy suitcase. The suitcase seemed to be right. High gamblers liked to carry such suitcases, full of two million dollars in cash. Two million dollars is not a lot. Some gamblers have subordinates to help carry a dozen or so cash boxes in and out. But if he just wants to meet the captain, two million should be fine.

“Okay,” Sasha shrugged. “It’s okay to take you to the captain, but I must first wish you good luck.”

“Wish me luck?”

The captain doesn’t like to see outsiders very much. If he sees an outsider and doesn’t like him, that guy will be brainwashed. Brainwashed people end up a little messed up if it doesn’t go right.” Sasha said. “I don’t want you to be so unlucky.”

[gunnerpalace]

YoruIchiRuki (Neapolitan Ice Cream) AUs & Headcanons

(Art by @371am​, used with permission and originally posted here; if you like it, please go show your appreciation!)

INTRODUCTION & CONTINUITIES

YoruIchiRuki, or variously YIR, The Idiots, or Neapolitan Ice Cream (so named because Yoruichi: chocolate, Ichigo: strawberry, Rukia: vanilla) is my AU-only OT3 of choice, and I’m here to talk about their major AUs and my headcanons for them! Most of the notes I have are from discussions some years ago with @sequencefairy (Jess), although many other people have contributed as well and I will try to point them out as and when possible. If you find this post interesting, please give me your feedback!

As YIR is explicitly AU-only (because it doesn’t really make any sense at all in anything even really remotely resembling “canonical” Bleach) it’s probably prudent to go over its contexts first. The major AUs are as follows:

Grounded! Modern Continuity - What might be called the “prime” YIR continuity, Grounded! is the original timeline, set in a No Powers, Human, and Modern alternate-history in which Japan colonized the West Coast of North America. Rukia, Yoruichi, and Ichigo are drawn together in a series of comic (yet sometimes angsty) circumstances in the midst of the worst snowstorm in ages, and become entangled going forward. Its revised outline can be seen here, its namesake fic here, and other fics set in its timeline here (with two more associated fics here and here). I am attempting to get back to continuing the main fic in the near future.

Western Continuity - Set earlier in the above timeline (but technically in a parallel universe version of it), the as-yet unnamed Western Continuity is intended to be an east-meets-west fusion set in the Wild West, reminiscent of things such as Sukiyaki Western Django. Currently largely undeveloped. There is, however, a post about some of the aesthetics here.

Samurai Continuity - The as-yet unnamed Samurai Continuity is much the same as Western Continuity, except set earlier still during the Edo period and drawing major inspiration from Samurai Champloo, with Ichigo in a role like Mugen, Yoruichi in a role like Jin, and Rukia in a role like Fuu (searching for Byakuya, “the samurai who smells of sakura”). Currently largely undeveloped.

BattleTech Continuity - The as-yet unnamed BattleTech Continuity is set in a distant future where mankind has colonized the stars, only to divide into five major political powers and descend into internecine warfare, often waged by means of BattleMechs, hulking bipedal war machines. Yoruichi, Ichigo, and Rukia are members of the elite of three of these powers, and wind up serving together as soldiers of fortune due to a strange series of events. The initial outline can be seen here.

Operation GAMER QZGS Continuity - Designed by @synoshian (Lies), Operation GAMER is set in the same timeline as Quan Zhi Gao Shou / The King’s Avatar, a Chinese property (novel, manhua, donghua, and live action series) revolving around an MMORPG called Glory. Taking place five years after that series begins, and focusing on the Japanese (rather than the Chinese) professional scene, it sees Rukia, Ichigo, and Yoruichi as pro-players on different teams who all meet on alternate accounts shortly after the opening of the 15th Server. Although largely undeveloped, there is some nifty art of Yoruichi and Rukia’s in-game characters.

All of the characters are aged up in these scenarios, with Ichigo and Rukia usually being in their early-to-mid-20s, and Yoruichi being in her mid-20s to early-30s, depending (with the youngest age I could see being Ichigo at 18 in the Western Continuity; even Mugen is 19 in Samurai Champloo). The mechanisms of how YIR gravitate together vary by continuity. For example: in Grounded!, Ichigo and Rukia know of each other, but only properly meet each other after Yoruichi makes moves on Rukia; meanwhile, in BattleTech Ichigo and Rukia meet much as they do in Bleach, with Yoruichi entering the picture roughly a month later as usual. What matters to their dynamic is less who makes the first moves, and more who they are as people and how they interrelate.

VISUAL NOTES

Before I move on, I would like to briefly note the visual contrasts each pair of the triad presents. Everyone already knows how Ichigo and Rukia visually contrast one another. Ichigo and Yoruichi have a similar height contrast (as manga-Yoruichi is notably shorter than anime-Yoruichi), a skin tone contrast, and a hair color contrast (orange vs. purple). Rukia and Yoruichi are of fairly similar heights, but again have a skin tone contrast, an eye color contrast (violet-blue vs. yellow), and a body shape contrast (petite but developed vs. curvy but thin).

Each set looks good and distinct from one another optically, and the same is true when they’re all together as a result. I feel that their aesthetic is reflected in the OT3 name of Neapolitan Ice Cream; they’re just really nice to look at together.

LOVE LANGUAGES

To expound on how the three relate to one another, I recently discussed the concept of love languages with @rukia-kuchiki-divided​ (having first been informed of the concept by Jess and having discussed it with her), and she wrote a lovely post introducing the concept and applying it to IchiRuki. I agree with her reading of how it applies to them, and find it useful to expand on what’s presented there as a means of better understanding how YIR interact with one another. My best estimate for a more detailed take on the love languages that each of them hear (desire) and speak (provide), based on “canonical” Bleach, is as follows:

Yoruichi • Desires: 1. Physical Touch, 2. Acts of Service, 3. Quality Time • Provides: 1. Acts of Service, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time Ichigo • Desires: 1. Words of Affirmation, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time • Provides: 1. Acts of Service, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time Rukia • Desires: 1. Acts of Service, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time • Provides: 1. Words of Affirmation, 2. Acts of Service, 3. Physical Touch

As can be seen, Ichigo and Rukia are almost perfectly reciprocal. (Rukia’s tertiary provision was settled on being Physical Touch rather than Quality Time due to her tendency to bond through token violence, and initially aloof disposition, although it’s a fairly close thing. I think most of the others are essentially self-evident and don’t require much substantiation.) However, it can also be seen that Yoruichi has very strong secondary and tertiary matches across the board. That is what forms the basis of her addition to the triad in all scenarios.

Having at least alluded to the sorts of circumstances under which they come together (and hopefully having piqued your interest!), allow me to elaborate upon that further by explaining the history of the concept, which is strongly related to the writing history of Grounded! itself, before moving on to actual headcanons. 

IDEA HISTORY

When I first came up with the idea for Grounded!, the original intent was for it to be a sort of sexy and comedic one-shot. The short version was, instead of “just as keikaku” shounen shenanigans organized by Kisuke and Aizen leading to Ichigo and Rukia meeting, it’s instead Yoruichi’s desire to live her life the way she wants and enjoy herself that lead to her bringing them together, as she basically steps into their nascent awareness of each other in pursuing a physical attraction to Rukia, and then decides to catalyze them meeting each other by going after Ichigo and then setting the two of them up together. This probably epitomizes it:

“Listen: you could do the normal thing of going on dates and trying to do some kind of long-distance relationship and whatever, and be miserable about the opportunity you might be losing. Or you could trust in my judgment and believe me. You and you,” Yoruichi said, pointing between them, “are like this.” She clapped her hands together, interlinking her fingers.

Ichigo and Rukia flushed and looked at each other with disbelief.

Yoruichi unhooked her fingers and made a circle with one thumb and forefinger, poking the other forefinger through it. “So, you should save us all the drama and just do this already.”

Their expressions shifted to mortification.

Yoruichi shrugged and lifted a hand, rolling her eyes. “If you’re so nervous, I could be there for your first time together,” she teased. She didn’t really believe they’d agree, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been with both of them.

At that, Ichigo and Rukia both gaped.

She gave a mock frown. “What?”

“No!” they both stated at the same time, looking at one another in surprise.

Yoruichi smiled and held up her hands in surrender before scooting her chair back and sauntering off. She’d expected as much. Besides, it was clearly a mission accomplished.

The pair watched her abrupt departure together before slowly turning their attention toward one another. It wasn’t long until they both flushed.

Ichigo looked away decisively.

Rukia looked down. “Well...”

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

She blinked and side-eyed him.

“I don't know about... all the nonsense she was saying. And you can decide whatever you want. But at least... let me take you out to dinner.”

Which would lead to dinner and a movie and staying over for coffee and one thing leading to another until Ichigo and Rukia lay together, cuddled together under the sheets and blankets

“She was right,” Rukia whispered.

“... Yeah.”

One of her hands spiraled over his chest. “But?”

Ichigo shifted his jaw. How Yoruichi had gone about proving she was right still didn't entirely sit well with him.

She peered up at him lazily. “I guess we owe her.”

There was a long silence.

“Yeah...”

Which led to the idea of the two getting their “revenge” on Yoruichi by rewarding her in kind. All’s well that ends well, and the three were supposed to go their two separate ways.

It was only gradually that the internal timeline of the story expanded and more emotive and genuinely angsty elements started to creep into my notions of it: Ichigo’s self-loathing at being unable to work up the nerve to approach Rukia, Rukia’s loneliness and isolation, the touch-deprivation of both, Yoruichi’s growing realization she made a mess of things by following her own heart, her resolve to “fix” things, and finally and most importantly, her own budding attachment to the two of them.

I started thinking about Yoruichi’s physical attraction toward first Rukia (and then Ichigo) turning into actual feelings. My read of her has always been that she’s much more emotive than she lets on, she just has a fairly tight grip on her sentiments most of the time and tends to keep her observations to herself. But after having slept with both Ichigo and Rukia, and especially the two of them together, I imagined her seeing what they had together and missing it afterward. I thought of her going to Kisuke’s bar and asking if she could sleep in his room just to not be alone at night. And I imagined Rukia and Ichigo missing her too—her playfulness and teasing, her confident smile, her laugh. The more I contemplated that, the more I thought of them returning to her some weeks later to invite her on a proper trip with them, only to find Yoruichi still hurt and lonely and aching for the connection with them. This is where “The Ending” section of the summary of Grounded! (linked above) came in:

Yoruichi frowned and set her expression hard, focusing intently on some point off to the side. When she spoke, her voice carried the gravitas of authority. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Rukia blinked and automatically drew her hands back in confusion.

Ichigo likewise released her as he felt her go rigid.

Yoruichi closed her eyes. “I can understand wanting to pay me back, but you did that already! Do you think I was bullshitting you!? You’re perfect for each other! Hell, it’s like you were designed to be together! You’re like yin and yang, black and white! Why are you trying to ruin it, you idiots?!”

Ichigo and Rukia’s gazes found each other before they glanced to Yoruichi and then looking to either side.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Yoruichi’s tone was low, but in the quiet that had descended over the room it was more than loud enough.

The attentions of the two were instantly upon her again.

Yoruichi clamped her hands around her upper arms tighter yet, letting out a brief, harsh laugh. Her voice grew quieter still. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that there’s any place for me in that kind of thing…?”

A moment passed. Then another.

Rukia bit her lip and looked to Ichigo.

He met her gaze. A decision flickered between them and he turned his attention to Yoruichi, delicately taking hold of her waist again.

She blinked her eyes open in surprise only to freeze as Rukia’s hands returned to her cheeks.

Rukia once more tried to turn Yoruichi’s head—succeeding given her preoccupation—and studied her intently. Yoruichi’s voice had been steady but there was no mistaking the gleam at the outer corners of her eyes. She carefully brought her thumbs up to wipe the tears away.

Yoruichi’s eyes widened in response and she was suddenly aware of her heartbeat hammering in her ears. She looked up, needing to focus on anything but the concern Rukia was radiating for her. “I just wanted you to be happy,” she whispered. There was no space for her in that picture. No room.

Ichigo moved closer so he was lightly pressed to her back, and brought his forehead down to rest against the top of her head, burying his nose against the start of her ponytail. The citrus scent of her hair put him at ease and his arms naturally slid around her waist. “Then come with us.”

She shivered at the contact but didn’t try to pull away.

Rukia released Yoruichi’s hands and slid her arms around her neck, hugging her and pushing her back against Ichigo. The sudden rush of the aromas that so defined Yoruichi filled her thoughts and she found herself relaxing at it. “Please?”

Yoruichi shut her eyes. “But…”

“We’d like you to be there,” Ichigo insisted.

“And we know you’d like it too,” Rukia whispered.

Yoruichi clenched her jaw before dropping her chin so she leaned against Rukia, unfolding her arms. She got one hand around to the back of Rukia’s head and brought the other up onto the back of Ichigo’s.

This is where I came to a conundrum, and then happened to find the solution a few weeks later. Ichigo and Rukia, even in AUs, still often feel like they have the weight of their “canonical” symbolism arrayed about them—their Sun and Moon symbolism in all its resplendent glory. And this is what Yoruichi is alluding to in her criticisms of their actions; how can one fit into such a picture?

It’ll probably sound silly to you when I try to explain it, but there was a video of a black cat that got into a bath tub full of seaweed-based glitter from a Lush bath bomb going around at the time. Someone then drew some art with the caption, “he’s cosplaying the night sky,” and something in my head just clicked. While I reblogged it at the time with, “I know this is a male cat, but: imagine Yoruichi…” the association went deeper than that.

The characters of Yoruichi’s name, 夜一, mean "night" and "one" respectively. There are a number of ways to potentially read her name. The use of numerals in names is often just a counter, so it could mean something like "(first daughter) night," but counters are usually reserved for men. (Presumably, her brother Yuushirou's name, whose characters are "evening," "four," and a suffix for "son," is a similar time reference to his birthday rather than a counter, as there is no evidence Yoruichi had any additional brothers, be it two or three more, whom would presumably be dead.) What I think it might actually be supposed to signify is wordplay on her birthday, as she was born on the 1st of January (thus, on the literal first night).

If taken more literally and combined with her shunshin nickname (usually translated as “Flash Goddess,” but more literally meaning something like, “God of Moving in the Blink of an Eye”), it becomes evocative of a meaning like, “The Goddess Who Disappeared in One Night.” (There was an old name meanings post on the Soul-Society LiveJournal which has since been deleted which affirms this, but her relevant entry is still quoted here.) This was sort of a play on her disappearance from Soul Society, but as an actual character it does her quite a disservice; she is actually quite loyal and sticks around when she wants to. (One could also easily make “one night stand” jokes about her and I think this likewise does her a disservice, but I’ll get into that more later.)

Regardless, her association with the night is very established through her name. It's the dominant component of her name.

And so I thought, “My god, that’s exactly it: she’s the night sky. She’s Space.” What’s interesting about the Sun and Moon is that they do not exist unto themselves. You might initially think of space as nothingness, yet not only is that scientifically inaccurate, but more importantly for our discussion it obscures its role in permitting the Sun and Moon to exist and move around. Space is not nothingness, it’s a place. It is a thing unto itself.

I don’t think Rukia and Ichigo, themselves, are aware of their Moon and Sun symbolism, because that is essentially metatextual to them as characters. But if they were, and they were trying to explain why they wanted Yoruichi to come along with them in the scene above, I think they would say exactly that: “The Sun and the Moon aren't just these Platonic ideals, you know. They exist out in Space. But Space isn't just nothing, doing nothing. And you, you're our Space. You helped make this happen. You’re a part of it.”

I have had this idea in mind from almost the very start of actually taking Grounded! (and YIR in general) seriously, and as I constructed the more detailed love languages chart above, I felt that I was again seeing the same kind of underlying logic borne out in it. My conception of YIR’s dynamics, the way I really see it, might be considered as an expansion on traditional IR dynamics, rather than something bolted onto the side; like going from the set of real numbers to complex numbers, rather than just adding on a new code library to a program.

This has been a somewhat long-winded way of circling back to where we were with that love languages chart, but I felt that addressing the historical process of how this happened was important to explaining it and why I personally feel it’s more than just run-of-the mill crack fic, even if it again makes no sense in relation to “canon.”

INTERPERSONAL RELATIONS

Ichigo and Rukia’s relational mechanism of being (playfully) combative is quite well established. They essentially play fight over petty or inconsequential matters as a way of showing engagement, but there’s a demonstrated understanding and affection underneath such behavior. Their comfort with and ease in being in physical contact and proximity with each other is a reflection of their secondary and tertiary love languages, with their primaries coming out in more serious and meaningful moments. This is not to say that they aren’t capable of being sappy or romantic, but rather that they often code it within their squabbling; arguing and teasing each other is often how they show they care. Consider Rukia’s teasing of Ichigo in chapter 423 of the manga as the archetypal example:

Rukia: What's this? Don't look so sad. Even if you can no longer see me, I will still be able to see you. Ichigo: What the hell? That's nothing to be happy about. And I don't look sad!

The image that Ichigo and Rukia front is one of a pair who seem to argue but do so mostly just to keep things interesting, like an old married couple, which is the main reason why so many people both in the text and reading it assume they are a thing. I think structurally similar but expressively different behavior would happen between the other two sides of the triangle.

Ichigo and Yoruichi’s behavior would often come across as being more like that of “bros.” In “canon,” Ichigo is clearly shown to have hobbies and interests (video games and literature) and to at least engage with other activities even if he doesn’t particularly care about them (sports, pop culture, movies). While the same is not immediately obvious for Yoruichi, it can be inferred she probably has similar token interests as otherwise there’d be precious little for her to do in the Living World. (I have always headcanoned her absence[s] from the Urahara Shop as being her out seeing the wider world.) We’re not talking about Bleach, but I think these behaviors are intrinsic to them as characters, and I think it’s how they’d often connect. They might talk about TV shows, movies, games, sports teams, whatever. I can imagine them setting up a fantasy football league between them, even if they didn’t care about football. The content is not really what matters to them so much as the fact that it provides them something to talk about and bond over, without necessarily being overtly emotional. They would probably also leaven it with physical teasing or innuendo (mostly from Yoruichi’s end, with Ichigo playing the role of straight man in response). The sense you would get as an outsider is a couple who are on the same wavelength and have the same values and interests and are rather physically in tune too.

Rukia and Yoruichi’s behavior would by contrast often come across as “girly.” I don’t mean that pejoratively or necessarily to typecast it. As they’re both proud, independent, and strong women, and are often in positions that require them to present a certain face to the world that relies on those attributes, I think they’d relish opportunities to figuratively let their hair and guards down, relax, and just laugh and smile and have a good time. I think one of the ways this would manifest is that they would see time together as a way of indulging in shared activities, many of which are seen as feminine, such as shopping, gossiping, and enjoying time out and about (such as in restaurants or cafes). A less traditional avenue of expressing it would be shared physical activities. I can imagine them wanting to do things like duos beach volleyball, badminton, paintball, and so on. (Ichigo, although physical and perfectly capable of playing sports, doesn’t seem much interested in them for their own sake; he is ironically the biggest “nerd” of the three.) I think they’d find a lot of commonality and companionship in these shared activities, regardless of what they were actually doing. They’d probably also tease each other and have a back and forth, as they both often tend to like adopting that role (perhaps more physically from Yoruichi’s side, and more emotionally from Rukia’s). From the outside, they would probably seem like a sprightly and sincere couple, more akin to “young love.”

I think what makes the concept of YIR really special to me is what happens when the three of them are all together, because what I see winding up happening is a synthesis of all three of these paired relationships. I imagine it as being fluid and fun. There is this concept in astronomy known as the three-body problem, the simple explanation of which is that when there are three (or more) celestial bodies moving together, it becomes impossible to accurately determine their future motion; there is no general closed-form solution and a dynamical and chaotic system is produced. And that’s exactly how I imagine YIR would work together. One minute, Yoruichi and Rukia would be teaming up to poke fun at Ichigo; the next, Ichigo and Yoruichi would be doting on Rukia and making her feel flustered; the one after, Ichigo and Rukia could be making Yoruichi feel sappy and mushy. From seemingly fairly simple operating rules, one gets very complex interactions that can turn on a dime. And I feel that’s really the joy of YIR as a triad: they’re very high-contrast and have tremendous range together.

I think all four sets of interactions (each pair and the triad) would have strong but subtle elements of verbal teasing and physical touch. Holding hands, light touches here or there (the shoulder, the side, the arm), and more provocative ones (little butt pats or brushes or slaps, or the ladies discreetly rubbing their chests against the recipient of affection), or a whisper in the ear... but I’ll address their teasing and more involved physicality and sexuality in more detail in two later sections.

Even more pronounced than that, however, would be their routine eye contact. Ichigo and Rukia are well known for using their eyes to communicate with one another, and I think Yoruichi would fit into that dynamic quite well, as she’s very visually expressive too. Where and how she is looking at things is a big tell for her mood and psychological state, just like it is for the other two, and I think she would be very good at speaking to them and hearing them in ways they already understand.

I’m working on a sort of compilation fic for @duckiesteasmiles​​ (Nami) called The Many Mornings of Yoruichi, where each entry is a different morning of Yoruichi waking up within a YIR relationship (nominally Modern Continuity), some of which are sweet and fluffy, some of which are spicy and sexy, and some of which are wistful and thoughtful. In one of them:

Her gaze continued to linger in his direction for long seconds until she closed her eyes and turned her head the other way, pressing her lips and nose to the back of his hand. She neither quite kissed it nor merely nuzzled it. His skin smelled good in a way she couldn't really explain, just like Rukia's hair did. Just like all of both of them did. And being like this with the two of them...

They gave her something that was difficult to put into words. It was like the difference between being out on the water and standing on dry land. It went beyond something as simple as a mere sense of stability. For the first time since she was a child, it felt like there was a place for her that she could truly call home. Such a gift, she wanted to both pay it back and pay it forward. She wanted them to have that feeling too, as best as she could possibly manage. Their family situations might not be nearly so estranged as hers, but... she wanted them to always feel that sense of home.

Yoruichi smooched the back of Ichigo's hand and turned her head back toward him and Rukia, quietly sighing in contentment. Did she really have butterflies in her stomach from just this? These two idiots have turned me into such a sap...

I feel like this middle paragraph is true for all three of them, if each in their own ways. In Bleach, it seems evident to me that Ichigo and Rukia create a sense of home for one another, and it manifests in the familiar and expected, the little things that fill in the gaps in their lives. I think things would be much the same for YIR.

A big part of that, I think, would be homemaking—mundane and domestic things through which they could show their care and affection. Things like washing the dishes together, going out for groceries, meeting each other at the arrivals gate and acting as chauffeurs for one another (Yoruichi would mostly drive, although sometimes Ichigo would), and collapsing on the couch together to watch TV or movies, or play games, or just lounge after they've had long days. Yoruichi would put away leftovers but always make sure there was lunch for them for the next day, Rukia would remember to pick up the juice she knows they like when she's at the store, and Ichigo would bring little things home for them when he comes back from wherever he's been travelling.

I think they would all take to cooking for one another. Yoruichi would do a lot of it and would be responsible for the majority of meal prep, and be the closest thing they had to a chef. Ichigo would only really be good at making a small set of about a half-dozen (hearty) hings, and they would often look a bit sketchy, but they’d taste fantastic (think like that one really ugly cake Gordon Ramsay hated to admit tasted great). Rukia is more into making fiddly pastries and desserts. They’d often wind up dividing dinnertime efforts between them (almost like an Iron Chef team) and sometimes it’d all go wrong and they’d have to order pizza, but they always have fun with it.

It feels like, by virtue of her choices in life (especially military service) and spending a lot of time living alone, Yoruichi would be primed to know the most about domestic activities (keeping things neat and tidy and clean, doing chores) and would try and set examples that way, even and especially when their schedules didn’t really line up. So, Ichigo and Rukia would come home to find everything in order and ready for them, and meals cooked in the freezer they could heat up. I think they’d always be kind of shocked she tried so hard, but that’d be part of how she justified her role in it to herself: she’d want them taken care of so they could be excellent, because that's what she was wanting and trying to do from the start.

And they’d take it up too and reciprocate it; when she was away from home for a while and they weren’t, they’d do the same for her—both of them realizing it was one of the ways she would tell them she loves them without saying it, and remembering to do it in return. Ichigo would perform a lot of this, sort of standing in as Yoruichi’s second in command in this regard, and also take on a lot of the “manlier” responsibilities like mowing the lawn, raking leaves, cleaning out the rain gutters, and so on. I imagine him becoming handy around the house and doing a lot of the heavy, tedious, or mindless things.

Meanwhile, Rukia would focus more on supporting morale, leaving around little notes and messages and reminders for them to keep up their spirits; things like fridge magnet messages or little framed photos or collages, cheery messages by text or chat or on social media. She’s the one who’d tell them both all the time how much she loves them—she's the one who would (eventually, because she’s stubborn sometimes herself) say that she misses them, who’d call when it was late and she thought they might be lonely, and when and she wanted and needed (however privately) to hear from them. She'd always be there with the right words at the right time; psyching Ichigo up before a big case, helping Yoruichi navigate a difficult co-worker situation... Rukia would always know what to say and when. (This, by itself, might move Yoruichi less, initially, but I think she would always appreciate the intent behind it.)

I think they’d also have interesting relationships with one another’s relatives. Ichigo would have to field some interesting questions from Karin and Yuzu and deal with some absurdities from Isshin (or Masaki!). Rukia and Yoruichi might work with Kuukaku to shield Ichigo from the public spotlight on the Shiba. Little things like that. Byakuya would probably be more than a little protective of Rukia and have interesting interactions with Yoruichi and Ichigo. Early on in the relationship, he might wind up getting into a staring contest with Yoruichi over the whole thing. Ichigo would back her up without question, and he’d just look between the two of them for a time before stating, “I know you will treat Rukia well.”  Later, Yoruichi would be annoyed at Ichigo and be all, “I didn’t need you to do that,” and he'd be like, “Yeah, yeah, I know, Captain.” 

(In the Modern Continuity, at any rate, Byakuya initially does not really approve, but also does not really disapprove. He sometimes checks in with Rukia by phone, and can occasionally hear Ichigo and Yoruichi yelling at each other in the background. This sometimes seems like an actual argument but is of no substance and is just about some surreal nonsense. [What is “Dance Dance Revolution” anyway?] Kuukaku catches him brooding about it after the calls sometimes, and is always touching a shoulder and intoning, “If she's happy, it’s fine.” “I know,” he says. Eventually, he really does come to believe it and respect the other two. In the other continuities, and especially BattleTech, it’d be... more complicated still.)

I also think the three would have a lot of intimate moments that weren’t sexual. Things like: Yoruichi and Rukia waiting for Ichigo to come home so they could surprise him with the contrasting lingerie they bought together; Ichigo and Yoruichi drawing a bath with candles and rose petals and scented wash for Rukia, sitting beside it and keeping her company while she soaks and then massaging her together; or Ichigo and Rukia laying out a candlelit dinner for Yoruichi and pulling her over to a fire place to sip wine with her, giving her just enough to loosen up but not enough to lay her out. (Yoruichi is “canonically” a total lightweight, although I sometimes headcanon that she developed a strong aversion to alcohol in her past; Nami has come up with a cute headcanon that she pops her hair-tie off and lets her hair down when she drinks, like Chisato in Love is Like a Cocktail.)

Hell, even the way they jockey for position in front of the mirror in the morning to brush their teeth together strikes me as cute.

To make a long story short, I think they could have a very mature and nuanced but still fun and playful relationship that winds up mutually supporting all of them.

TEASING

In my opinion, one of the other great joys of YIR is how they’d tease each other. I think their teasing of one another in public or private would be quite multifaceted, especially through repartee.

Yoruichi and Rukia would always be teasing Ichigo just for the fun of it; going to the bathroom together, shopping for clothes and going to the dressing rooms at the same time, it wouldn't matter. Always leaving him standing there in the store with the pile of bags or at the table with drinks and coming back giggling to each other and flushed. Maybe a third of the time they’d actually have done something, and the rest they’d just pretend they had, working each other up to the teasing by critiquing each other's acting and telling jokes. And he’d know, and play along even if they caught him off-guard:

“I know you're just saying these things.”

“Do you?” they both asked with raised eyebrows

They’d also always be being wing-women for one another, winding him up. They might be at a restaurant and:

Ichigo’s eyes instinctively tracked Rukia as she went to go get a bottle of ketchup from another table.

Yoruichi leaned sideways and brought her lips to his ear. “Did you know she's wearing crotchless panties?” she breathed.

He abruptly reddened.

She give his earlobe a kitten lick, adding, “So am I,” then smoothly leaned back into place before Rukia could return.

When she did so she stopped and studied him, noting the sweat at his hairline. She adopted an exasperated look. “Did you order your food too spicy again?”

Or Ichigo and Rukia might be laying on recliners poolside while Yoruichi is stretching some distance away before hitting the pool:

“Oi, Ichigo,” Rukia said mildly.

“What?”

“Have you ever noticed how well that swimsuit defines her mound?”

“Don't say things like that!”

Rukia grinned impishly at him.

And Ichigo would, of course, sometimes get them back:

Rukia: Don't act like you know my favorite kind of chocolate, fool. Ichigo: Of course I do. Yoruichi: So, what is it then? Ichigo: The same as yours: salted. Both ladies blink and then flush. Ichigo: The same as how I know your favorite pies are— They clasp their hands over his mouth while glaring at him.

But his main method of retaliation would be being really good at inappropriately hot goodbye kisses that leave whichever of them he’s kissing breathless and reaching for him as he steps back. That and he’d be good at low-key yet also really flagrant public displays of affection that give away they're a unit, like swatting or groping their asses, though he’d also be good at timing them so nobody else saw them.

This kind of teasing would extend across a wide range of scenarios too. Imagine, if you will: Ichigo and Rukia are sitting down for dinner in a really fancy restaurant; Ichigo has on a very fitted black tuxedo, Rukia has on a slinky black cocktail dress with lots of bling, and they're waiting on Yoruichi, who said she’d meet them there. When she walks in, she’s got on a white tuxedo jacket like James Bond (although her lapel flower is orange; I headcanon it as her favorite color) and the other two just kinda stop and stare because that is not at all what they were expecting, but damn.

Yoruichi: What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Ichigo: ... Rukia: I think he’s just realized he’s kinda gay for you in that. Ichigo: ... Shut up! Rukia: ... I’m a little gay for you in that... Yoruichi: Haha. Only a little~?

When I was contemplating the Samurai Continuity, I thought about them commenting on the show intro of Samurai Champloo as though they were actors playing the roles and seeing the assembled cut for the first time:

Yoruichi: How fitting that Ichigo is symbolized by a cock. Ichigo: I could say the same about the irony of you being symbolized by a fish. Yoruichi: Are you insulting my hygiene, you bastard!? I don't recall you complaining about it last night when you had your head down there for an hour! Rukia: Shut up, both of you! How could I possibly be expected to eat so much food? It’s ridiculous!

In the same setting, I sort of imagined that Yoruichi and Ichigo would sleep together first given all the crackling tension between them (not quite a hatefuck the first time, but something competitive, rough, and passionate and not exactly loving) but would refuse to admit they had a thing together even afterwards:

Yoruichi: Me? With that orange-haired brat? Ichigo: With that purple-haired bitch? Yoruichi: With his stupid chocolate eyes? Ichigo: With her arrogant, gleaming, little canine-toothed smirk? Yoruichi: His oxen, large, dumb, wide shoulders. Ichigo: Her prissy, smug, sashaying hips. Yoruichi: Always getting you vice-like in those big, strong hands... Ichigo: Always shoving her chest into you every chance she gets... They both blush and go quiet. Rukia, in the background: GOD, JUST FUCK ALREADY! Yoruichi and Ichigo, turning: SHUT UP, HOW DO YOU KNOW WE HAVEN’T!?

I think Yoruichi would often indulge Rukia’s flights of fancy and cuteness. Going back to Grounded!, I can imagine them subjecting Ichigo to “The Thrilling Adventures of Chappy and Kitty” while he’s trying to work from home:

Yoruichi, wearing cat ears: He’s just mad because he doesn't have an animal associated with him, nyan.  Rukia, wearing bunny ears: That’s right! You’re just a strawberry, pyon! Ichigo: Seriously, it’s annoying, stop it. Rukia: Fool. Yoruichi, luridly: You plan on making us? Ichigo: Hmph... you wish! Rukia: You know, bunnies are famous for nibbling, and kitties for licking... Yoruichi leans over and gives Rukia a cute peck on the cheek followed by a small lick. Yoruichi: Maybe he doesn’t want to play~

A random little teasing scenario:

Yoruichi got her arms around Rukia’s shoulders from behind and put her in a light and playful choke hold, poking her head out to one side and leering at Ichigo. “Oi, wanna know how to make her squeal like a schoolgirl? I can tell you~”

I really just cannot emphasize enough how much I love their banter and playfulness and the different forms it can take, from mature and witty to childish and bratty.

ANGST

I don’t think YIR’s relationship would always be sunshine and rainbows. I think each of them has their own trauma to deal with, regardless of the timeline. In every one of these continuities (although not every possible continuity), Rukia would be dealing with the death of Kaien, and Ichigo would be dealing with the death of a parent (often Masaki, but as time goes on I think it’s increasingly more interesting that Isshin die instead). That’s well-established. But I also think Yoruichi has her own sources of angst too, albeit perhaps not as severe.

In “canon” Bleach, Yoruichi is shown as having given up everything in order to live on her own terms. This is often presented as no big deal, and as having been her choice, but I often get the sense that it added a contemplative and possibly even morose side to her. (If you made me pick two songs for her, one would be a song I had her choose to do karaoke to in a fic, Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life”, and the other would be a remix of Lana Del Rey’s “Born To Die”.)

I imagine the same is true of the various versions of Yoruichi in each of these continuities. I think many of them also have their own additional traumas. Yoruichi in Grounded! had some unpleasant experiences during the Gulf War (having had to eject and evade capture on the ground overnight), while Yoruichi in BattleTech would have seen (and done) a fair share of nasty things as Coordinator and as a mercenary, and the Yoruichi of the Samurai Continuity and the Yoruichi of the Western Continuity both probably would’ve done more than a little maiming, if not outright killing.

The result is that I see all three of them as burdened with some degree of PTSD, which would occasionally take the form of moods or nightmares. An example of the former, for Yoruichi:

Ichigo quickly finished shredding the pieces of chocolate he'd picked out and sprinkled them over the bowl of ice cream, peeking through the kitchen's breakfast bar into the living room.

Yoruichi's hair poked up above the back of the couch, unmoving.

He grabbed a spoon and slid it into the bowl, got a paper towel, and made his way out into the living room, going around to the other end of the couch so as not to walk in front of her.

Drawing nearer, he sat down next to her, scarcely hazarding a glance her way. He didn't have to, really.

Sometimes she would cry, but he had never seen it. She wouldn't ever let him see. Not even Rukia had ever seen it happen either. But he'd heard it, and listening to it was like standing in a rain made of nails. He hated it. Seeing her willingly vulnerable was one thing, but when she was compromised... Ah, there were times he wanted to burn the world down, go out and fight whoever had wronged her, hit them until blood trickled from their mouths like water from a faucet.

Mostly though, when she was in a mood, she'd be sullen. Sometimes with a side order of aggressive irritability if she was provoked. He could tell with a glance that that was how things were at the moment.

Yoruichi was curled up in a corner of the couch, sitting in a fetal position, her arms crossed atop her legs, frowning disinterestedly at the TV.

Ichigo kept his eyes on it. They'd bought a ridiculously large plasma screen after much deliberation, and it was currently playing an episode of Meerkat Manor on Animal Planet. The audio was barely perceptible.

He set the bowl of ice cream on his lap and took a bite, savoring it. It was chocolate chunk ice cream with chocolate syrup and more bits of milk chocolate on top. There was nothing subtle about the emphasis on boosting endorphins. After swallowing the bite, he took up another spoonful, holding it in front of her.

Yoruichi didn't react.

Ichigo kept waiting for a few seconds, then brought it back and ate it himself.

He kept on alternating for four more runs before he felt a tug on the spoon; she'd clamped her mouth over it.

After that they began to switch every bite until the bowl was empty.

Once Ichigo had finally set it on the coffee table, Yoruichi flopped over to one side, resting her head on his lap.

He started to gently rake his fingers through her hair, just carefully combing it out. They had all the time in the world.

I think they would have additional hang-ups that would occasionally beset them. Ichigo might sometimes feel that he didn’t deserve the attention of either Rukia or Yoruichi, let alone both. Rukia could sometimes feel that she was kind of superfluous or a burden upon Ichigo and Yoruichi. And Yoruichi could sometimes feel like she was just getting in the way of Ichigo and Rukia and didn’t deserve such companionship. (This is before getting into uncertainties they might have early on in their relationship together as a triad, which need not necessarily be a smooth process.)

I don’t have strongly developed ideas for hurt and comfort, but the BattleTech, Samurai, and Western Continuities all provide plenty of actual danger on a regular basis that could set up opportunities for it. We all know the lengths Ichigo would go to for Rukia, and vice versa, but I don’t think it’s very hard to imagine what Yoruichi would be capable of if either of them were threatened or injured.

I think that all these things give them an added dimension of complexity, as they’re not just perfectly content and happy forever, but it also gives them opportunities to lift one another up.

ASSORTED SCENARIOS

Within Grounded!, I have a line I like that may or may not wind up fitting in when (if) Rangiku goes to confront Yoruichi on what’s happening during the snowstorm, so I thought I’d include it here:

Rangiku: Kuchiki Rukia could decapitate a man with a meal tray’s plastic knife, and I just watched her giggle and pirouette up and down the shopping mall. What did you do, Yoruichi?

In the post-Grounded! era of the Modern Continuity, the vacation which Rukia and Ichigo invite Yoruichi on, which she assents to, is to the South Pacific, perhaps Tahiti. I can imagine the sand is hot and Ichigo has to carry Rukia and Yoruichi out onto the beach under each arm, like how he held Rukia at the Soukyoku in Bleach; Yoruichi acts indignant at being carried and deliberately makes it difficult by pouting like a kitty. (Maybe on a different day he takes Rukia in a bridal carry while Yoruichi rides piggyback, or vice-versa.) The three of them would have fun putting sun tan lotion or sun screen on each other. Yoruichi might casually strip off her swimsuit, making the other two blush only for her to chide them with, “What? We're the only people here, live a little.” They have a midday nap together on their bleach blanket under a big parasol. Yoruichi teases Ichigo and Rukia by poking them with cold ice pops, saying something like, “Ah, you're all sticky now, somebody will have to clean you off!” only for them to start returning the favor. Clouds roll in in the afternoon and they beat a hasty retreat through the brush to their rented bungalow, laughing in the warm rain that comes down before they make it. They wash off together and the power goes out, so they assemble in a sort of cabana area and listen to the steady rain and surf and thunder together, bundled up with one another. Things like that.

I think that Yoruichi’s lifestyle in the Modern Continuity is relatively austere given her history and background, but still very comfortable. Once Ichigo and Rukia decide they want to move in with her (which would probably happen sometime relatively soon after their post-Grounded! vacation together) Yoruichi would probably set about trying to get them a house, which would be quite nice but not palatial or opulent. 

I think her one eccentric and rich hobby, given her background as a naval aviator, would be having bought and maintained a surplus F-14 Tomcat (probably the unproduced-in-our-reality F-14 Super Tomcat 21) like she flew in the Navy. She’d keep it at a local airport, probably have a mechanic to help her maintain it (could be something Tessai does in his spare time?) and take it up now and then to have fun. I imagine it’d be heavily customized and have a lightning paint job. Anyway, I can imagine her getting really excited to show it off to Ichigo and Rukia and to take them up in it for the first time. (She would probably get a special safety harness and air supply splitter made so Rukia could safely sit on Ichigo’s lap in the rear RIO seat, rather than make them ride separately.) Anyway, I imagine that Yoruichi’s aviator call sign would have been either Flash or Flash Goddess (probably originally earned for her nonchalant and risqué behavior rather than her piloting ability), and she’d have a customized flight helmet. For their first visit, I imagine she’d have gotten them helmets made and would give them their own call signs. A short list I came up with, with @rukia-kuchiki-divided​​, were Glacier, Aurora, Ice Queen, Snow White, or Blizzard for Rukia (although the 3rd is normally an insult, I think it’d be taken as kind of endearing here, like how in “canon” Ichigo at one point thinks of Rukia as “bitch” and Rukia openly calls Ichigo a “brat”), and Anarchy, Mayhem, Skyscraper, Havoc, or Riot for Ichigo (with the 3rd being a reference to both “canon” Getsuga Tenshō and a dig at his height relative to them), with their own custom designs. (There could be a whole fic of Yoruichi just writing out different names and talking to herself about them; I imagine her laughing at Snowpiercer for Ichigo and Snowjob for Rukia.)

(These would probably also be used as their call signs in the BattleTech Continuity.)

I watched Top Gun a lot as a kid and the karaoke scene of The Righteous Brothers’ “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” has always been in my head as a result, and I can picture Yoruichi hooking Rukia up with a spare Navy uniform and insignia so they could surprise Ichigo at a local bar by replicating it. (Which of them takes whose role is up for debate; I headcanon Rukia as being fantastic at singing and Yoruichi as pretty good, but the idea of Rukia in aviators tickles me more. They could mix it up and both wear sunglasses and treat it as a genuine duet.) Ichigo would be mortified (but enchanted), especially if other people recognized what was happening and joined in on the song.

I like the idea that, although Yoruichi and Rukia start out with their “canonical” haircuts (long and either of Rukia’s shoulder-length haircuts, respectively) that they might eventually decide to synchronize their styles; Yoruichi might cut hers short again (like in Turn Back the Pendulum) to match Rukia’s, or Rukia might grow hers out to match Yoruichi’s, or back and forth. I get these images of Ichigo and Rukia helping Yoruichi with her hair and maybe playfully braiding it too. I feel like Rukia would be sorta fascinated by Yoruichi's hair, just its length and the feel of it. The weight and texture of it would be different from her own (I imagine it’s a little thicker than Rukia’s) and she likes the feel of it spilled over her. This could also be an interesting reason for Rukia to later grow her own out. (Ichigo likes the hair of both and is often touching it or putting his face into it, especially since they’re shorter than him. The scent of it is one of the ways he thinks of home.)

I have this scene in mind of them going out fishing, which is something I feel Yoruichi would’ve picked up at some point before meeting them. I picture all of them out on a dock or in a rowboat real early in the morning, wearing personal flotation devices; the sun's not even come up fully yet, and there’s mist over this pond or little lake they’re on. Rukia is just conked out asleep between the other two, her head on one of their laps and feet and legs on the other’s. Yoruichi looks perfectly content and is just beaming. Ichigo is tired-looking and clearly wondering why he’s there, but he still is because Yoruichi thought it was important they had the experience and, as he thinks about it, it isn’t really so bad. Eventually he smiles despite himself.  

Sometimes I think Yoruichi would be resistant to Ichigo being sappy; their personalities are sort of similar in that they put on a tough exterior, but I think they would break each other down in interesting ways:

Yoruichi crossed her arms and looked aside dubiously. “Oi! I know I’m not her, and you miss her, but you don't have to be so sullen all the—” She stopped as his palms came to rest against her cheeks. Her gaze snapped toward him right as his fingers came to rest against and behind her ears.

Ichigo gently cradled her face and leaned in, studying her.

Her focal point swung from one of his eyes to the other as she searched. His look smoldered but what she saw was cryptic and it gave her pause. She wasn’t worried—she was never worried with him—but something about it made the difference in their sizes abundantly clear, made it obvious just how large and strong his hands were.

A beat passed before he irritably whispered, “I love you too.” He never felt that it needed to be said, but apparently he was wrong.

Yoruichi blinked.

Ichigo moved in closer and dropped his eyelids fractionally. “I’m in love with you too,” he added, with a quieter and almost-not-vexed delivery.

Her lips parted slightly before her eyes swung to one side again and she scoffed. She tried to follow suit with her whole head but found herself gently restrained. A furtive glance back at him had her eyes going wide as he kissed her. She resisted for a moment before leaning into it, reaching up to grasp his shirt with both hands.

He brought a hand around and slid his fingers into her hair, moving the other down to rest on one of her shoulders.

Yoruichi pushed closer and turned her head more to one side, taking in handfuls of his shirt.

I had this idea of the three of them going somewhere cold (Alaska? Hokkaido? Russia? Swiss Alps? Canada?) and having to wait around in a space that’s not really heated. Yoruichi’s wearing a round ushanka, while Rukia has on a flappy-eared one that’s just a touch too big. Ichigo takes off his coat and drapes it over both of them, who huddle up under it (as it’s big enough to fit them both), and:

Rukia: Idiot, you’ll catch a cold. Yoruichi: We're not babying you if you get sick. Ichigo: Shut up!

Maybe later they wind up in front of a fireplace together, curled into one another. Rukia has long since started calling Yoruichi “fool” as well, it being one of her signs of affection and care. They continue their gentle backbiting:

Yoruichi: Brings back memories, huh? Rukia: Fool. Ichigo: You know she has a thing for us tying her up, she just wants us to do it again. Yoruichi: I do not!

The three of them regularly alternate who is being spooned and who faces who. Yoruichi and Rukia take turns in the middle and change up who they face; Ichigo is usually only in the middle when he’s on his back and they can cuddle into his sides. Both Yoruichi and Rukia steal some of Ichigo’s t-shirts and boxers to use as pajamas and start to share them interchangeably. Whenever one of them has to go off for a couple of days, somehow one of his shirts is always mysteriously packed into their bags, and Ichigo never says anything about it. (They get him back by sometimes smuggling pairs of their underwear into his luggage with cheeky little notes.)

Ichigo is a t-shirt and boxers kind of guy when it comes to lounging or sleeping clothes, although he’ll swap out for long-sleeves and plaid lounging pants when it’s cold enough. Rukia has several sets of cute pajamas that she uses, in addition to items stolen from Ichigo. Yoruichi is highly variable, and sometimes can be found in odd combinations like a turtleneck, her panties, and long fluffy socks. In the winter she's prone to sprawling out in beams of sunlight filtering in through the windows and disrobing to catch the same; in the summer she might be found laying around in just her panties or Ichigo's boxers, fanning herself and complaining about the heat until they turn on the AC (both are very distracting).

Their soaking tub is spacious but isn't really properly big enough to hold all of them, so sometimes they share lap space, and both Rukia and Yoruichi are always glaring at Ichigo and warning him about funny business (as if they don't sometimes do things in the tub).

Rukia: There’s a time and a place, Ichigo. Ichigo: Watch those hands, Yoruichi. Yoruichi: Maybe watch where you've got your feet, Rukia.

In the Samurai Continuity, I can imagine them running out of food to eat like Mugen, Jin, and Fuu do, and Yoruichi's like, "Ichigo, you're the biggest, you have to eat more," and he's all, "No, shut up, I'm fine, there's enough here for you two." Yoruichi falls silent. Rukia continues protesting instead, only for Yoruichi to touch her arm to get her to stop because she knows what he's doing. Ichigo can take it better than they can precisely because he is bigger, and he’s always going to try and protect them first.

A little scene about comforting and snuggling together:

Ichigo cinched his arms a little tighter around Yoruichi's waist. There was a long silence. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head faintly against his chest. “No.” He was putting out enough warmth for two.

He shifted and brought his face down into her hair and inhaled. The orange and saffron scent underlying the spice and musk of her aroma made it smell bright and sunny despite its indigo hue. It was different but... right. “You smell good,” he eventually whispered.

A small chuckle escaped her. “You're such a sap, but you're not so bad yourself.”

“I mean it.”

A pause passed. “I know.”

“Yoruichi—”

“You're tired, get some rest.”

He gently squeezed her sides. “Hey.”

He used his grasp to draw her up while shifting down so they were face to face on the pillow they were sharing.

She studied him curiously.

Ichigo did the same before looking aside. “You shouldn’t need any more convincing that I’m a man, not a boy, so don’t treat me like one.”

Yoruichi blinked before smirking slightly. “Is that right?”

He locked eyes with her again. “I’m glad you're here.”

There was a pause before she looked down.

He started to rub her back and neck to assure her through touch. “And not because Rukia isn't.”

She just quietly pressed in a bit closer.

I feel like Yoruichi would have the least personal sense of “ownership” of the relationship, since she would have lingering doubts about her place in it, and Rukia would have the most. Ichigo thinks of them as “his girls,” but Rukia... Rukia views herself as theirs after a time, and accordingly, they’re hers. Not in some transactional or proprietary way, but just... it’s like her with that soul ribbon in the first ED of Bleach: it just is. And i think that’s where her knowing what to say often comes in, because she does have that perspective. She can ferret out when, say, Yoruichi is feeling like maybe she doesn't belong to them as much as they belong to each other, and Rukia is the one who brings her back, who reminds her that they are three—that two was nice, but three is best.

You might imagine her curling into Yoruichi and quietly stating, “I love you,” and Yoruichi's just kind of at a loss for words, so Rukia repeats herself and waits for Yoruichi to say it back. Yoruichi would feel... maybe a little overwhelmed at the quiet declaration, because it would never be a big or loud thing with Rukia, just firm and quiet and brooking no argument. And this is also why, for as much as Yoruichi and Ichigo wind up curled around Rukia, sometimes Rukia conspires with him to just snuggle Yoruichi between them:

“She's got better ‘pillows’ anyway,” Rukia stated.

Ichigo blinked and flushed, looking away. “There's nothing wrong with yours.”

She glanced to him dubiously but still cracked a thin smirk.

Yoruichi is often physical in showing her concern;  sometimes she plays it up and hugs Rukia’s head to her chest, and other times it's just very natural. Ichigo she can only really tease properly when he's sitting in some fashion; neither ever really objects much, no matter how ridiculous they think she's being.

They all drink coffee and tea alike. Yoruichi likes her coffee with sugar and cream, and her favorite tea is a heavily spiced chai. Ichigo likes his coffee black, and his favorite tea is Earl Grey. Rukia likes fancy dessert coffees (like Starbucks Frappuccinos) and likes white and green teas. Yoruichi is the one who actually makes coffee, while Rukia tends to make the tea.

Yoruichi is probably the only one who is really even remotely a morning person, although by habit rather than by choice. Making coffee is like her early morning ritual and meditation to start the day, and including their favorites into that routine just gives her more time to wake up naturally. On work days she likes to let them sleep in—she slides out of bed, careful not to jostle them, but sometimes Ichigo will wake up anyway and reach out for her before settling back when she pats at his hand. It also gives her a chance to have a bit of quiet in the morning and think about things. The sounds and smells of breakfast are often what wake Ichigo and Rukia.

They make an effort to bathe together whenever possible; although they wake up with breakfast, the shower and bath is when they really start their days. It’s a bonding thing for them. (They probably shower both morning and night, but bathe whenever they have the time.)

I sorta like the idea that Yoruichi is a loud and kind of angry gamer, which Ichigo and Rukia regard as kind of an endearing quirk given how put together she is most of the rest of the time. I can see her being really mean on mic to annoying pre-teens. “Yes, I’m a girl, you prepubescent brat! What’s your excuse for sounding like one other than that your balls haven’t dropped yet?!” Ichigo and Rukia just kinda look at each other when she really starts popping off; Ichigo goes over to start to massage her and she sinks into the couch, grumbling and focusing up on whatever she’s doing.

Ichigo is kinda ticklish, Rukia is not all that ticklish, and Yoruichi is very ticklish and she absolutely hates it.

SEXUALITY & PHYSICALITY

My personal read of these characters, which I invoke in these scenarios, is that Yoruichi is pansexual, and Ichigo and Rukia are both something approximating demisexual, with at least Rukia (and possibly Ichigo) being bisexual. (I think in “canon” a strong case could be made for them both being closer to but not necessarily purely at asexual, while Yoruichi could be read numerous ways, but that is neither here nor there.) These are, of course, only my interpretations. 

At any rate, Yoruichi is usually experienced (somewhere between fairly and quite so depending on the scenario; I imagine she and Kuukaku could have fooled around when they were younger, and that in more recent times she has had Kisuke as a lover, but that the two of them are an off-again, on-again thing) and views sex as a fun, normal, and healthy way of physical and/or emotional bonding; Ichigo is uniformly a virgin but is old enough to not be a stammering fool about it; and Rukia is either a virgin or may have had a sexual relationship previously (if so, with Renji) but is not very in tune with her sexuality or sexual desires to begin with.

It might initially seem like Yoruichi trains both Ichigo and Rukia, being the one who moves first physically and the one who’s got more experience, but I don’t think she herself or either of them think of it that way. Yoruichi would always be more interested in coaxing the other two, in helping them to figure out what they like and want, and encouraging them to explore it. That would quickly get turned back around on her as they grew more confident, as they would start to return the favor to her. Personally, I think that Ichigo is often physically dominant, but loves to serve and please. Rukia and Yoruichi can both be dominant themselves (with him or with each other) but also like being submissive; Rukia enjoys the comfort and safety of the headspace it puts her in, while for Yoruichi it heightens her pleasure more than she could imagine. I think this would be a surprise to Yoruichi, and eventually she’d come to realize that she had always still been keeping up walls in her past relationships to try and maintain some control. Ichigo and Rukia would be the first to really break through those, which would give her all kinds of feels and open her up more to trying things she had only rarely explored with partners before. (As examples, I think Yoruichi would have a thing for light bondage and anal sex, but only have tried them with other people a scant handful of times.) Their process of discovery would not at all be a one-sided thing, and I think they’d be very sexually active (probably having orgasms only every other day at the longest stretch).

If I had to pick words to describe what sex is like for each of the pairs, for Ichigo and Rukia it’d be cosmic (powerful and beautiful, breathtaking) for Yoruichi and Rukia it’d be oceanic (constant motion and energy, unifying) and for Ichigo and Yoruichi it’d be tectonic (earth-shattering and resonant, awesome). Just like with the rest of their behaviors, when they were all together, it would vary and oscillate among the three. However, sex between them wouldn’t necessarily always be a big production or need to go both ways either. I think they wouldn’t think much of pulling clothes down (or dipping their hands into them) and using their digits and mouths on each other, depending on the mood. I think they’d all just be very invested in making one another feel good, and that could be quick and servicing or slow and mutual as the case might be.

The three would always wind up appreciative of one another in states of undress, although Rukia and Yoruichi would be more circumspect and covert about it. Ichigo doesn’t hide his admiration, sometimes earning him rebukes, but those incidents really only tee him up to say something sappy and adoring, which usually result in the other two getting annoyed at how gooey it makes them feel. Sometimes they reward him by showing off, Rukia usually emphasizing her ass, and Yoruichi her chest. Yoruichi might turn quick so she swayed and bounced, put her hands on her hips and lean forward, say something like, “If you want to have a look you can always just ask, you know. I don't mind,” then lift her arms up and stretch. Rukia might lean forward or bend over to show off more, use a hand to pull a cheek aside and waggle her eyebrows, say something like, “If you see something you like, you should give a compliment.”

Something that would melt Ichigo and Yoruichi's hearts would be having Rukia between the two of them, arched and trembling, weakly clutching at them and moaning out, "Yoru... Ichi... go..." Hearing their names co-mingled like that, they'd be filled with thoughts of how they've got to protect her, they've got to deliver her, they've got to give her everything and be one with her. And afterward Ichigo would pull Yoruichi tight to gently squish Rukia between them, Yoruichi not much less spacey than Rukia would be. Rukia might be gathered between them, face buried in Ichigo's neck and Yoruichi pressed up against her back, the pair of them grounding her to the earth.

Yoruichi and Rukia sometimes pair off together while Ichigo is left in the dust recovering from his refractory period, and they make him watch. He'd always be astonished at seeing them together, how they can keep on and on, and always be kind of struck by, Why... do they need me...? and I don't think he'd ever fully get over it, but it would inspire him to always try and be worthy of them, and sometimes give them cause to reassure him.

“Fool. You think we'd just... always be doing this without you?” Rukia asked.

He turned and stayed silent. Why not?

Yoruichi maneuvered around so he she was in front of him, cupping his jaw. “We need you too.”

Ichigo's eyes widened as they met hers.

Rukia pressed against him from behind. “Who else is going to make us feel safe, idiot?”

Yoruichi tapped a finger above his heart. “And it's not like you're bad...” she purred.

“Not bad at all,” Rukia added quietly.

"There's some things toys just can't do,” Yoruichi mused, looking deep into him.

Ichigo's face heated. “Well. I...”

Rukia grinned, pressing against him. “Fingers and tongues and toys are good and all, but...”

"Nothing like a man who knows how to use what he's got,” Yoruichi finished, and she and Rukia shared a meaningful look.

Ichigo cleared his throat.

“A toy doesn't feel warm like sunlight.”

“It doesn't tangle fingers in your hair and smoothly pull your head back.”

“It doesn't clutch at your hips.”

“It doesn't tremble between your thighs.”

“It doesn't curl up with you after and tell you it loves you.”

And he quietly thought, But, you can do that to each other... And yet, even so, his cheeks went red and he just kind of sank between them as they petted and stroked at him and whispered sweet nothings that eventually became soft kisses here and there.

When they’re separated due to travel, I think they would remember each other in different ways. Much of it would be domestic and fluffy, but when their thoughts turned to intimacy, the focus would be a little different for each of them. I think that Ichigo would remember sights and feelings: Yoruichi on her back and Rukia atop her, their legs interlocked so as to spread each other and both of them looking back over their shoulders at him expectantly and hungrily, and how that made his chest clench around his heart. Yoruichi would recall images and physical sensations: Ichigo and Rukia moving together, Rukia spread under her, the feeling of Ichigo’s hands tangled in her hair, the tastes and smells of them. Rukia would focus on emotional memories, of what it felt like in the afterglow and during aftercare: Yoruichi and Ichigo curling around her and the way she felt safe and warm in their arms, the way it felt like they built a boundary between her and the world. (Rukia would still sometimes think of particular things though; things like images of Yoruichi between her thighs, while Ichigo held her from behind—his voice in her ear, a low rumble of all the things he was going to do to her when Yoruichi was finished...)

I think, when they were paired off with Ichigo due to the absence of the other, Yoruichi and Rukia would be intrigued with how he treated the other. I imagine they'd watch each other often when they were all together; sometimes it might be all three of them at once, but other times they'd take turns. Rukia might be fascinated by the contrast in Ichigo and Yoruichi's skin and the difference in the way they moved, the power of them. Yoruichi might be bewitched by the tenderness Ichigo showed Rukia, the softness of them even when they were rough together. So you might have, with Ichigo and Rukia:

Rukia ended the kiss and dipped her head, bringing the fringe of her hair to rest against Ichigo’s chin. She gently squeezed his shoulders and pressed closer.

His fingers dug into the sides of her waist appreciatively.

She let out a small sound and pressed her face down against his neck, getting secure against him. Being so close seemed to distort things, as if she was in a deep gravity well. She closed her eyes. “Ichigo...?”

“Hmm?”

She spiraled her pointer fingers against his collarbones with a touch of uncertainty. “Um...”

He began to massage her sides in reassurance. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing’s... wrong, I just—” She broke off and pulled her head back, looking up at him.

Ichigo met her gaze.

Rukia looked between his eyes, wondering at how soft they were—always so soft for her. She looked down again. “I want you to treat me like you do Yoruichi,” she whispered.

He blinked.

“I’m... not made of glass, Ichigo,” she murmured. She loved how tender he was with her, but... He was always powerful with Yoruichi, even when he was slow with her, and the two of them always looked... so damn sexy! The more she’d seen of it, the more she wanted it for herself. She wanted to feel that power, that strength, that energy.

Ichigo soon reached a hand up to brush her hair. “No, you’re not.”

Something about his tone made Rukia bite her lip, and she pressed her head toward his hand, appreciating the contact for a short time. She then released his shoulders and carefully turned around, getting her legs astride his and pushing back firmly against him before slowly starting to roll her rear suggestively against his hips.

He gripped her sides firmly. “Rukia...”

She turned her head fractionally to look at him out of the corner of her eyes, asking with them. She needed to know what it was like.

And with Ichigo and Yoruichi:

Yoruichi softly bit Ichigo’s tongue to signal an end to the kiss, wrenching her lips away from his and sliding her head forward so they were cheek to cheek.

He turned his head toward her neck to follow on as he pushing her up against the fridge more firmly, squeezing handfuls of her ass.

She let out a needy moan and pressed her cheek to his, drawing her arms tighter around his neck and tangling her fingers in his hair. “Ichigo.”

“What?” he whispered, his impatience hanging from every letter of the word.

“Wait.” It was a soft instruction, but an instruction nonetheless.

Ichigo paused and blinked, very deliberately focusing on her. She’d never been one for delays. A little silence rolled out between them before his eyelids slid halfway shut again. “What's wrong?”

“Don't assume something is wrong,” Yoruichi chided mildly, slowly arching a little to push her rear into his hands. She waited a few breaths, beginning to brush through his hair. “I want to try something different,” she eventually conceded.

He started to rub his cheek against hers as a memory returned to him of something very much like this. “Different? How...?”

Yoruichi lowered her head a little. “Treat me like Rukia?” He was so caring and patient with Rukia—always making love to her in the most passionate yet considerate way. She loved what she had with him—it was always fun and satisfying—but she’d seen them so many times and she increasingly found herself wondering...

Ichigo looked askew at the side of her head for long seconds before lowering his face, snuggling her against the refrigerator door. “You know... Last time, she asked me to treat her like you.”

She blinked in surprise.

A little smile curved his lips and he gave her neck a soft kiss, musing on the irony. “Did you two plan this?”

“No!” she denied in a sharp whisper, only for her eyes to widen as he squeezed her ass again, very differently. The motion was smooth, celebratory, and made her shiver—something about it made her soul ache with recognition.

“Okay,” Ichigo promised, standing up and pulling her away from the appliance. He held onto her securely as he bore her to the bedroom.

Yoruichi faintly bit her lower lip at the sudden change in his attitude but clung to him, offering no resistance or further comment.

All three of them quite like one another’s scents and flavors (although Ichigo and Yoruichi regard Rukia as primus inter pares and think she’s the best) and they’re not shy about it. You can imagine Yoruichi mocking the old Tootsie-Rolls commercial line while she and Rukia are holding Ichigo, whose cock is covered in magic shell topping: “How many licks does it take to get to the creamy center...?”

CONCLUSION

There is even more (as there are a dozen or so little in-progress fics and ficlets scattered around, mostly for Modern Continuity) but that’s the end of all the notes I have on hand for now. If you made it this far, thank you, and I hope you found this charming or persuasive, or at least entertaining! If you did, please leave me your thoughts! 

[stansbooty]

been on fire (dreaming of you) // reddie

"Richie always has to watch the brunette die in his arms, he always wakes up sobbing, feeling a confession on his lips that never makes it out."

ao3 link words: 6054

Richie Tozier is a frequent victim of nightmares. For as long as he could remember, he would wake up at least four times a week in a cold sweat, his breathing heavy and his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Sometimes he could remember what had happened, other times without any memories of what his dream-self had experienced.

He tells people that it’s been happening “as long as he can remember” because, if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t quite remember if he had had them as a kid. Everything before the age of around 16 was blurry, like he had lived all those years without his glasses. He knows he grew up in Maine, but sometimes the name of the town escapes him. He thinks it started with a ‘D’ but it’s been so long he isn’t sure. He could vaguely remember what his childhood house looked like. Two stories. Blue and white. Simple. He thinks the town had some sort of body of water he liked to swim in and a railroad track that ran through it.

He knows he had friends. This he is absolutely certain of. Sometimes, when he’s calm and relaxed, hazy memories of these friends will make their way into his brain. He can hear laughter and can see smiles. He can feel the warmth of love and admiration build up in his chest. He can’t ever seem to make out any faces, just the emotions that they felt.

However, there’s one friend that is clearest out of everyone. A boy. Shorter than himself. Brown hair. Richie thinks he was funny because the emotions associated with this friend are always laughter and joy. His stomach always clenches, and his heart drops when he thinks about the laughter, but he can never figure out why. Sometimes, he’d sit in his bed, head in his hands, just trying to remember more about him.

Richie believes that these friends are the reason he has nightmares.

Well, to be fair, it’s not all the nightmares. He still gets the occasional “Oh no, I’m getting eaten by a shark” or “Oh no, I showed up to class without pants on”, which he doesn’t understand because he’s been out of school for years now. But it makes him think he’s not all the way crazy.

No, the nightmares that he thinks these friends gave him are more terrifying than the usual, they’re the kind that resonate somewhere deep in your soul, in the very back part of your brain, they manipulate your dream reality so much that you don’t know if you could every get out. Richie sometimes thinks they’re memories, they’re so vivid. But there’s no way.

He’s had many of those kinds. Almost all of them involve his long-lost friends. Sometimes they’re running away from another group of kids, and he can feel the hatred rise up in his chest. Other times there’s a clown involved. The clown is never hazy, never blurry, always front and center and clear as day, with his cracking white face and fiery hair. 

One of the reoccurring ones he has involved a giant statue of a man. He can’t quite make out who it is but it’s chasing him, swinging around some sort of tool as a weapon, and he’s running as fast as he can to get away from the statue but he’s regressed into a kid in this dream and he can’t get away.

Another is one that will leave him afraid for days after, sometimes weeks. He’s in a cavern of sorts, it’s grimy and dark. There’s someone to his side and despite not being able to see who it is, he thinks it’s the short brunette kid who makes him happy. But something’s different about them. He can feel it in himself and the other person. Their hearts are heavy, like they’ve been weighed down with so much trauma and fear that they’ve aged 30 years. His body feels old in a traditional sense, too. Much older than in any of the other nightmares he’s had.

The two of them walk down the cavern before he starts sprinting. Then it’s like he’s watching himself from above, like an out of body experience. He sees himself running, picking up a rock and throwing it. When he looks to see where it lands it’s on a hideous monster with the face of the clown but the body of something out of a horror novel. He watches as the monster comes towards him and seems to put him in a trance. He’s floating.

Then the short brunette runs and screams with such fury that Richie himself is startled, he throws something at the monster, knocking it back. Richie gets to watch as he and the brunette celebrate, smiling and laughing before it stabs him in the back.

Richie always has to watch the brunette die in his arms, he always wakes up sobbing, feeling a confession on his lips that never makes it out.

When Richie gets the call from Mike Hanlon from Derry, he can’t figure out if it’s a nightmare or not. From the moment he hangs up from the moment walks into the Chinese restaurant in his hometown, he’s suspicious of everything. It’s weird, because everything is hazy, but it also feels like it’s tumbling back. He can start making out the faces he can vaguely remember. He sees two people outside the restaurant and the names Ben and Bev fall out of his mouth before he can even realize.

He knows it’s not a nightmare when he walks to their table and he sees him. The short brunette that has caused him so much pain, so much joy, so much anguish and so much laughter, all from within his mind. Memories slap him in the face so hard it stings, and he feels like he’s going to vomit again.

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” He breathes out before he can stop himself. How could he ever have forgotten?

The boy from his memories – man now – smiles at him for a half a second before crossing his arms and pressing his lips into a straight line. Richie stares at him, scanning his face as all the emotions from his memories flood through him. He realizes a lot of the dreams he has are memories as well, as he can start placing the people around him in different scenarios he can now recall happening as a kid.

They sit around the table, joking around and catching up. There’s an empty seat, someone Richie can vaguely remember as Stan is missing, but the dynamic between him and the others still flows naturally. He finds himself constantly bringing Eddie’s attention to him as he realizes that the stomach clenches and the heart drops he always remembered were associated with the fact that he was – is – deeply attracted to him. It makes his chest clench uncomfortably, coming to terms with his feelings for him. The boy who he can now remember to be his best friend and first crush has grown up into a man that Richie can’t take his eyes off of.

Richie once again feels like he’s in a nightmare when Mike mentions the clown. Pennywise, he calls it. He now realizes his nightmares, too, were all memories. Chaos ensues for the next several minutes, finding out that Stan wasn’t going to be coming, their damn fortune cookies attacking, the icy cold fear that ran in his body as he tried to get out of the restaurant as quick as possible.

He looks over to Eddie and his throat feels as if it’s closing. The nightmares he had about the clown using him to get to Richie were all real. He doesn’t know if he can face it all again.

“I’m leaving, who’s with me?” Richie announces, quickly deciding that he would rather be as far away from Derry as possible. When Eddie raises his hand, Richie tries to push down the fluttering in his heart.

Back at the inn, he finds out Bev has nightmares too. He also takes one look at Ben and realizes that he also has been sucked back into his preteen crush and is nothing but soft looks and heart eyes. Mike and Bill meet up with them and he decides that maybe they can beat this. If they’re together, they might stand a chance. After all, they are 27 years older than last time.

Richie is reminded of the fear that he felt as a child when he comes face to face with the clown that has haunted him for years. Taunting him about his feelings. Sure, he’d known he wasn’t straight but he had never came out. Not when he was in the public eye like he was. But he’d never felt afraid about it, not like this. Not the deep terror he felt now that made him want to curl up into a ball and cry. Not when the clown was reminding him that he may lose his best friend who only just got back again.

He storms back into the inn, right passed Beverly and Ben and not giving a shit that he seemed to have interrupted something between them. He needed to get out of this shithole, and he needed to get out now.

He’s gathering his things when there’s a knock on his door.

“Fuck off, I’m leaving!” He yells.

The door opens anyways.

“Hey, buddy.” Ben says and he closes the door behind him.

“I’m leaving.” He repeats.

“You can’t.” Ben replies, as if there’s no other option.

“Oh, but I can.” Richie tries to push passed Ben but the other man doesn’t even have to try to get the force to push him back. “Fuck, not all of us work out for a living, be careful with the fragile ones, man.”

“You can’t go,” Ben tugs Richie’s bag off his shoulder and throws it across the room nonchalantly. “We need to finish this together.”

“Oh, Benny boy,” Richie gives him a fake smile. “You don’t even understand what I’m going through right now.”

“I think I understand more than you realize.”

Richie stands still in his tracks as Ben continues. 

“You know I liked Beverly back during that summer. After, too.”

“Well you weren’t exactly fucking subtle.” Richie snorted.

Ben just smiled. “And it’s like…being back here, just reminded me why I did. And still do.”

“Once again, not fucking subtle.”

“You know, Pennywise used her against me. Pretended to be her. Pretended to love me.”

Richie lets out an uncomfortable noise. “Shit, man, that sucks.”

“He uses our fears against us. I was, still am, afraid that she’ll find out I love her and she won’t love me back, or she’ll still be into Bill.”

“I don’t see how the hell this has anything to do with me.”

“You love Eddie.” 

Well, shit, Richie thinks. Ben wasn’t going to hold anything back. Shot that out, clear as anything, with no hesitation. He must’ve seen the look of shock on his face.

Ben smiled again, he always seemed to be smiling no matter the situation. Is always a beacon of happiness in otherwise dark times. “I could tell when we were young. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You have to stop letting Pennywise use that against you.”

“How can I just stop, Ben?” He spat out, feeling exposed. “This is different.”

“It’s love.”

“It’s gay love. Me loving him is different!” It felt strange, saying it out loud. Different, that’s the word he would most often use to describe himself. No one could understand anything he was going through because he was just so different.

“It’s still love.” Ben says softly. “And you know me, I’m a sap, and I think it’s great that you love him. So please, stay. If not for any of us, then for Eddie. We all are more likely to survive with you here.”

Ben left. Richie thought about it for a second, before remembering the song the clown had sang for him, and then he quickly fled from the inn, despite Ben’s words.

In a not so extraordinary turn of events, Richie finds himself in the Neibolt house, wading through shitty water, and descending down deeper into the ground. Eddie’s face is bandaged up, having been stabbed straight through the cheek by Bowers. It made him feel good about himself, the fact that he was the one to put the axe through that motherfucker’s head.

“You’re braver than you think.” He tells Eddie, sure that his face is conveying every emotion he’s feeling. He wishes the statement was true about himself. If it was, maybe he could be brave enough to tell Eddie how he felt. But making Eddie feel good about himself is the most important task at hand. He isn’t going to go fight a murderous clown with Eddie feeling worthless, not on his watch.

“Thanks, Richie.”

Richie takes a moment to take in Eddie and everything Eddie is, was, and came to be. He turns around and begins his descent, gripping onto the side of the vertical tunnel with so much strength his knuckles turn white. He’s fucking terrified, but he’ll never admit it. 

His body fills with fire when he grips hands with Eddie as they’re all chanting and he can’t tell if it’s because of the feeling of Eddie’s skin against his own or the fact that they all might be dead within minutes.

Even amongst the chaos, he can’t believe he ever forgot Eddie Kaspbrak. They’re screaming, an arm belonging to It behind them and three doors in front and them and Eddie is bickering with him. These could be there final moments and Eddie takes time out of those last breathes to bicker and Richie doesn’t know how much fonder he could be of the man.

It’s when he turns back around that his heart stops for a minute.

Richie swallows hard and looks around. He sees the cavern, the rocks on the wall and the eerie green lighting. He recognizes everything from the shape of the rocks to the distant screaming he can hear. It’s not something he could ever forget. The nightmares had slipped his mind for a moment, caught up in something of a real-life nightmare, but he realizes now that they’re all connected. The monsters in his head and the monsters in front of him all come together to make a living hell.

He’s running and he sees It with Mike, and he picks up a rock on instinct, throwing it.

“Here’s a truth, you’re a sloppy bitch!” He screams, his words seem to be on autopilot. Like someone had already decided what he should do and what he should say. He doesn’t have control over his own actions for the time being.

He forgets for a moment, what this is all about, when he stares into bright lights and feels himself slump over. He doesn’t know where he is. He wants to panic but his body doesn’t move and there isn’t any sound and he can’t see a damn thing. Like his conscious mind is hovering around in the dark cavern that is his body.

When he comes to, Eddie is leaning over him, smiling.

The world moves in slow motion. Richie takes in the scene, the shock and joy in Eddie’s voice, the brightness in his eyes. It’s all so achingly familiar, but not from this angle. He’s watched this before, but this is his first time experiencing it.

“Eddie!” He screams, his brain catching up. He surges forward, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulder and pulling him back, twisting their bodies until they’re painfully tumbling down the rocks into another small cavern. Richie glances up and sees where the claw would have struck. He lets out a shaky breath that sounds more like a relieved sob than anything else.

He’s leaning over Eddie and he looks down to see his shocked face and he laughs. A soft, nervous laugh and he picks Eddie up and cradles him in his arms, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder. Eddie freezes for a moment, clearly confused, before he hugs back, Richie’s tears soaking his shoulder.

They can only stay like that for a handful of seconds before getting back to the matter at hand but Richie feels like he’s on top of the fucking world. He had watched this nightmare play out again and again and again and he could never do a thing about it. About the anguish he felt, about the words he needed to say, about the sheer helplessness that flowed through his body.

But right now, in this moment, in this reality, Eddie is safe.

They defeat It. They scream, they fight, they back it into a corner and make it feel like the one that’s been tormented all these years. Like it’s the one that’s been haunted by memories of people once forgotten and trauma that had been gone through much too young. Richie feels like a heavy part of his soul is free when he takes Its heart into his hands and squeezes. The blood runs through his fingers and the flesh squelches disgustingly but he can’t be bothered. Especially as It screams and he can feel Eddie’s own fingers brushing against his own.

They run as fast as they can afterwards, everything collapsing on top of them. Rocks are falling, threatening to crush them before they can get out. At some point, Eddie grabs a hold of Richie’s hand as they’re running and Richie can’t shake the deep feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be with them. Outside of the Neibolt house, they watch as the place that caused so much terror is destroyed. It falls into itself, being absorbed by the ground until the lot is flat and empty. Richie is still holding onto Eddie’s hand, gripping it so hard as if he’s grounding himself to the reality that they really did get out. 

He never in a million years thought that he would be so lucky.

All of them are covered in blood and dirt and grime and tears and Richie can see Eddie started to get twitchy as it dries onto his skin.

“Quarry?” Richie suggested with a soft chuckle. Everyone smiles in agreement.

They’ve added a sign on the cliff. One that deters children from jumping off. He remembers as children they didn’t even think about the dangers of jumping into the not-so-clear water below. He can just remember the freedom he felt as he jumped, his body hurdling through the air as every worry in the world left him. He supposes that people are a lot more cautious about things now than they were in the 80’s.

As an adult, the jump feels just as freeing, but the landing feels just a bit more harsh, the pressure truly coming down on his aging body. Richie is submerged in the water, quickly swimming away so his friends don’t land on top of him. He can already feel all the disgusting sewer residue washing away as he swims to a place he can stand. He turns around and all his friends are swimming towards him and he feels so overwhelmed he might cry.

So, he does.

The tears flow out of him before he can stop himself. It’s 27 years of built up stress that he is now free of. It’s the kind of sobbing he hasn’t done in years. The kind that rips out of him painfully and causes his body to shake. He has his friends around him. The nightmare that started when he was 13 is over. The person that he has continued to love over all those years is safe. Safe from the nightmares that plagued Richie, almost as a warning from some other dimension where they weren’t so lucky, where that Richie couldn’t save that Eddie. But right now, they’re safe.

He feels his friends latch onto him. Beverly is holding onto his arm, Mike is around his shoulder, Ben grips his hand, Bill is at his side. But Eddie, he has his arms wrapped around Richie’s neck, pulling himself into Richie’s chest. His head is resting against Richie and he’s sure he can hear his heart beating fast. Richie feels loved for the first time in a long time. He gets the feeling that the last time he felt this way was the hug they had 27 years before after they thought they had defeated Pennywise the first time.

Richie lets himself cry, engulfed in his friends limbs and completely in love with the feeling of relief. 

They eventually let go of each other, but Eddie stays right where he’s put himself. Richie glances down to see him with a soft and content look on his face, much different than the one normally plastered on it. He wraps an arm around the smaller man, pulling him even closer to him, and settles on the rock beneath him, Eddie practically sitting on his lap now. 

He looks up to see Ben and Beverly smiling, alternating between pushing each other underwater and giving each other small kisses that are more like grins pressed against each other. Richie feels a deep joy rise up in his chest at the sight. He had known since that day in the alley, Ben cut up and blood dripping down his stomach, Bev smiling brightly at him, that they were meant to be.

Richie looks down at the man in his lap and thinks, maybe they could be meant to be as well. He experimentally presses a kiss into Eddie’s hair and Eddie just smiles. He feels those butterflies rising up in his stomach again like he’s a teenager. He’s tempted to say something, especially when he notices the gold band around Eddie’s finger is no longer there, but it feels like a conversation for later.

Because luckily, they have all the time in the world now.

Richie cries for the second time that day when they get back to the Derry Townhouse to see none other than Stan Uris sitting on the bench outside, a small bag next to him, and his head in his hands. He has bandages around his wrists but otherwise looks unharmed. Bev is the first one to move, screaming and running towards him. She pulls him into a hug that he doesn’t look prepared for, confusion evident across his face.

“What happened to you guys?” He asks.

“It’s you, right? Stan, it’s really you? What happened to you?” Bev pulls back but doesn’t let go of him.

“I can’t really remember. I was in some sort of trance. I woke up in the hospital with the bandages around my wrists. The last thing I remember was talking to Mike.” Stan answered, looking up at everyone else. “So, once I got out, I knew I had to come back.”

“But…but Patty,” Bev starts and Richie could see tears running down her face as well. In fact, everyone had red eyes and wet cheeks.

Stan scrunches up his face. “My wife? What about her?”

“I was on the phone with her. She said…well she said you died!” 

“Well, I’m right here.”

Mike sits down on the bench next to him, looks him up and down. “I think it was one of Pennywise’s tricks. I think It wanted us to believe Stan was gone, maybe it thought it would weaken us enough to not beat him.”

“The clown.” Stan suddenly looks panicked. “Where is it?”

Richie smiles widely through his tears. “We killed that motherfucker.”

“You did what?”

“We killed It. We really did. Crushed his heart, sent him to hell, the whole nine yards.” Richie exclaims.

A goofy grins crosses Stan’s face, the type of smile that only ever appeared when Stan felt completely at ease and happy. “He’s gone?”

“Oh yeah, fucking dead.” Eddie says. 

And then they’re all smiling and laughing, the tears long forgotten. They all go into the motel, to the bar that still doesn’t have anyone occupying it. They take turns going up to their rooms to take a proper shower, the quarry didn’t quite get the grime that stuck to their skin. The rest of them sat with Stan, gushing about their lives and in awe of the way Stan talked so happily about his wife and the life he made for himself over the past 27 years. He seemed to be the only one that managed to find a love that can make it through anything.

“No marriages for you guys then?” Stan asks, looking around as he sees there isn’t a wedding ring on anyone else’s fingers. Bev and Eddie grimace, almost simultaneously and Stan seems to realize he hit a sore spot. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry. I just-”

“No, no, don’t apologize.” Eddie cuts him off. “It’s fine, really.”

“It’s just,” Bev pauses, looking for the right words. “A weird subject.”

“I married my mom.” Eddie blurts out and Stan chokes on his drink. “Wait, no! Not like actually!”

“God, Eddie.” Stan coughs roughly.

“Just a woman that is practically my mom. Myra. We’re actually still married.” Eddie rubs the spot where his ring should be. “I took off my ring in the sewers, I realized…I mean, I knew before, but I kinda felt brave enough to realize I deserve more. I’m gonna divorce her when I get back.”

Richie tries to hide his smile.

“Also, I’m totally gay and being married to a woman was the worst.”

This time, Richie chokes on his drink.

Everyone laughs and cheers, raising their glasses in a toast to Eddie.

“I married my dad in the same way Eddie married his mom.” Beverly explained. “I left him before I got here though. Besides,” She looks up at Ben with a smile. “I found someone better.”

“My marriage just isn’t working out if I’m being honest.” Bill steps into the room, hair wet from the shower he had just taken. He still has his wedding ring on his finger. “Don’t know what I’m going to do.” He says it all very nonchalantly, causing everyone to laugh, despite the serious topic.

They all talk until they’re tired. Richie thinks he could talk to them forever. He doesn’t think he could ever get sick of the sounds of their voices, their laughter, the feeling of all seven of them being in a room together again is something he won’t ever take for granted.

As they retreat to their rooms, he watches Ben and Bev not-so-secretly go to the same room. Richie says goodnight to everyone, lingering on Eddie, and debates inviting him to his room before he decides against it.

He’s laying down on his bed, just in his pajama pants, staring up at the twirling of the ceiling fan. He can’t get his eyes to close for more than a couple of minutes, not nearly long enough to actually drift off into any sort of sleep. His body is pumping full of so much adrenaline over the events of the day he doesn’t think he can fall asleep for another couple of days. A knock of the door tells him that someone else can’t get any sleep either.

He opens the door to see Eddie with a small, shy smile on the other side.

“Eds!” Richie nearly yells before he can stop himself. “What can I do for you?”

He sees Eddie glance at his bare chest and he feels insecure all of a sudden. “I couldn’t sleep,” He answered. “Figured you couldn’t either.”

“You thought right.” He smiles and lets Eddie into the room.

Richie starts going through his things, trying to find a clean shirt to put on.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks.

“Trying to find a shirt, so I can be modest.”

“Don’t.” Eddie says and Richie turns around quickly. “You don’t have to, it’s fine.”

Richie can’t tell if he’s seeing things or not, but he swears he can see a blush rising up on Eddie’s face. “Okay.” He swallows hard.

Eddie sits on his bed and Richie has to stop his internal freak out. He reverts back to being 13 and going crazy because “Oh, cute boy in my bed!”.

Eddie takes a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Yeah?” Richie walks towards him but doesn’t let himself sit on the bed with him, just looks down at his sitting form.

“I said I’m gay.”

“Yeah,” Richie smiles. “That’s great that you realized that. Maybe you’ll be happier without that terrible wife of yours.”

The corner of Eddie’s lips twitch. “That’s what I’m hoping.” 

He runs a hand through his hair and Richie watches and wonders how soft Eddie’s hair would feel beneath his fingers. Eddie being gay brings a whole new level to his inner crisis. Because Eddie could possibly be an option now. Before, it was hopeless pining over a man with a wife that Richie could never have a chance with. Now, it’s almost too real, too possible.

Eddie continues. “I don’t know how it took me so long. I think knew before? Like, before I left Derry, I never had crushes on girls. I always thought guys looked better. One guy in particular. But then when I left, I forgot, and got stuck with my mom.”

“Hey! Your mom’s not that bad, don’t talk about my lover that way.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rich.” Eddie snaps on instinct and they both smile at the familiarity of it all.

“You know I like guys, too.” Richie feels as if a huge burden has been lifted off his chest. He’s never said it out loud before and it feels just as good as when they had killed that clown.

“Yeah?” Eddie looks up and smiles widely.

“I knew before I left, too. Had some crushes. It…It had used it to torment me before. This time around, too. I was always afraid I was dirty.” Richie says, not even realizing that he’s crying for the third time that day. God, where were all these tears coming from.

Eddie stands up and wraps his arms around Richie’s torso, pulling him into a hug. Richie returned it, resting his chin on the top of Eddie’s head.

“I was always so afraid to touch anyone, to look at anyone. It made me hate myself.” He sniffled. “Especially because…well because there was this one boy that I couldn’t get out of my head and I couldn’t have him.”

“You’re not dirty.” Eddie tells him, his voice muffled a bit from his face being in Richie’s chest. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“You’re awfully wise for a fresh gay.” Richie jokes and he can feel Eddie laugh.

Eddie looks up, causing Richie to move his head and look down at him. They’re still hugging. Eddie has a look in his eyes that Richie doesn’t recognize. “I just know that there can’t be anything wrong with this. Love can’t be wrong. Not when it makes me feel so good.”

“Love? Who’s got Eddie Spaghetti’s heart?” Richie asks and tries to stop his throat closing up at the possibility of Eddie being in love with someone. At the possibility that he has to go on and watch Eddie and this guy have a great life together.

Eddie grimaces at the nickname but answers anyway. “He’s the only guy who had my heart for pretty much my whole life. I remember crushes here or there, but this guy…I’d die for.”

“Don’t joke about dying, Eds.” The comment hits a bit too close for Richie’s comfort, thinking about the nightmares he had in which he did watch Eddie die.

“I would though.”

Richie’s palms begin to sweat and his heart speeds up, suddenly aware that he’s still touching Eddie so closely.

“What about you?” Eddie asks, changing the topic but only slightly. “Who has Richie Tozier’s heart? Who’s the boy you could never get out of your head?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Richie shakes his head.

“But it does.”

Richie bites his lip hard before speaking up. “He’s someone that I didn’t even forget during those 27 years, not really. That’s how much of a hold he has over me. I couldn’t forget him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I used to have these dreams of him. He made me feel a way no one else could. I used to have these nightmares, too. I think one of them was a vision.”

“A vision?”

“I’d always see him dying. For me. And I could never save him.” Richie looks into Eddie’s eyes, sees that the brown hasn’t changed since they were 13 and decides to go for it. “Until I could. I could save him this time.”

“Richie?”

“What is it?”

“I’d die for you.” 

Eddie doesn’t wait for Richie to answer, just surges up and kisses him. For a second, Richie doesn’t believe it’s actually happening. The feeling of Eddie’s lips against his is too much for him to handle, the unexpected roughness of his lips that’s so different than everything he’s imagined, but so much better, is almost too overwhelming.

Richie, of course, kisses back. Even if this is a dream, there’s no way he’d give up the chance to kiss Eddie. Their lips move together in a way that’s new but also oh so familiar. Like two people who grew up together and found their way back to each other. Like two people who have known so much about each other for so many years and had no use for all the information stored deep in their subconscious. Their lips move roughly, all these years of pent up feelings coming out in the form of this very kiss.

They pull away only when they need air.

“Me? Eddie, Eds, me?” Richie presses their foreheads against each other, he doesn’t want to spend another minute not breathing in the same air as Eddie.

“It’s always been you. Even when you were an insufferable teenager I wanted to strangle.” Eddie smiles, signaling that there’s no malice behind his words. “Somehow that just made me love you more.”

Richie never thought of himself as an easy crier but he really must have the record for the number of separate occasions of crying in a day. “God, Eds, I loved you so much. So goddamn much I couldn’t handle it. I was sure my body was going to explode one day.”

“Really? And here I thought it was just gonna explode from all that pent up crazy energy.” 

“I carved our initials in the fucking kissing bridge.” Richie laughs out, finally being able to tell him after so many sleepless nights in high school of wanting to show him.

Eddie is now sporting similar tears on his cheeks.

“And I still love you. Shit, Eds, I could never stop loving you.”

A soft, quick kiss.

“I love you, too, Richie.”

Richie wants to scream as loud as he can from the roof top. Wants to yell about how the love of his life loves him back. Wants to brag that he really got the best person in the world to actually care about him. Wants to let the world know that they could never be as lucky as him.

They kiss again. This time with more vigor. They fall back onto Richie’s motel bed and get lost in each other. Eddie’s hand run up and down Richie’s bare chest, feeling every nook and cranny. Richie lets himself finally put his hands on the ass that was the subject of every wet dream in his teenage years. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, in fact he pushes himself into Richie’s hands harder.

They kiss and they kiss and they kiss until their lips are raw and neither of them are wearing anything but their boxers. Their bodies are pressed against each other in every way possible, not a single piece of skin is not touching another. They are wrapped up in each other so tightly that there’s no way to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. Their lips are still pressed against each other’s in a soft kiss when they drift off to sleep.

Richie doesn’t think he’ll have nightmares anymore.

[bucky-in-paradise]

The Study

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope everybody had a nice holiday and I also hope you enjoy this one shot I wrote today inspired by this photo! 

Pairing: Reader x Mob!Boss Bucky

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Short smut, some cursing

Summary: After a long day at work, you can’t wait to see your boyfriend Bucky.

Rain poured down as you rushed home from your job at the local bookshop, Tully’s. Of course, Bucky insisted that you didn’t work so late at night, but you knew that if anyone tried anything, one of Bucky’s men, specifically Drax, would be on them in a second.

It was your shift to unload the shipment of new books for the new year and you always looked forward to seeing what new novels came into the store. Each shift was a new adventure, surrounded by people who enjoyed the same thing you did, reading. 

Growing up, you knew you wanted to work in an atmosphere where you could be truly happy and you indeed found that at the local bookstore. It also holds a special place in your heart considering it is where you first met Bucky.

Ruby Tully was a widow who built the shop from the ground up with her late husband. It took many years to get it up and running, but boy did they get it there. Only after ten short years of running it did Mr. Tully pass.

You looked forward to your job and regardless of Bucky’s constant nagging about not having to work half as often as you do, you bust your ass. This included tonight.

There were two other people besides you and Mrs. Tully who worked at the shop, both of whom were not as passionate about the works of art surrounding them on the shelves. Learning the ins and outs of the store was a quick job for you, but took months for them to learn.

This is part of why you were so happy to stay late tonight, despite the pouring rain that faced you when you left.

A task that would easily take them all night took you only a mere three hours. Seeing as it is winter, when the shop closed at five, you knew it’d be dark out by the time you locked up.

Typically, Bucky is waiting in his sleek, black Escalade to take you both home to his house, but tonight he had a meeting to attend that would keep him till the late-night hours. Those rides home with him driving steadily, hand on your thigh and sweet whispers in your ear at red lights were something you looked forward to after every shift.

Tonight, you tried not to let it get you down too much as you raced home, your umbrella clutched tightly in your hands.

Clint, you think, was a few paces behind you, his own umbrella above his head protecting him from the downpour. If Bucky was not there to ensure you got home safe and sound, it was one of his men. Typically, it was a quiet man named Drax who would trek behind you on your way home, a safe six to seven paces behind you.

Before you and Bucky started dating almost two years ago, Drax worked directly with Bucky as his body guard, mostly because he was a ginormous individual, but partly because he moved quickly and could kill in an instant if necessary. Not only was he intimidating, but his stare was so cold and fierce, many never dare look him in the eyes.

But when Drax did not show up at the back door of the shop, you knew something was up. Clint never unnerved you, quite the opposite in fact. Clint was a mouthy, loud individual, unlike you. At first it was easy to make conversation, but after ten minutes, you ran out of topics to discuss.

Huffing out a cold breath, you lengthened your stride, hoping to turn the twenty-five-minute walk into a seventeen minute one. Clint jogged to catch up and ended up shoulder to shoulder with you, knocking your umbrella over to share his own. “Slow down Y/N, it’s not a race. Goddamn,” Clint pulled his sneaker covered foot out of a rather deep puddle.

A short laugh burst from your mouth, causing a frown followed by a groan to be thrown your way. Your only response was an eye roll as you closed your umbrella and shared with Clint. You were glad you remembered to shove on fuzzy socks, followed by waterproof black boots before you left for work. Reports of a wet night were all over Bucky’s television this morning, although you are lucky to have heard it anyways.

Like most mornings with Bucky, you both woke up slowly, then all at once. Blue eyes lovingly gleamed at you as your own focused on his face, hands caressing his cheeks.

In these moments you felt so blessed to have a devoted boyfriend such as Bucky in your life. After a steamy shower in which Bucky claimed sharing water would benefit the planet, you cuddled up on the couch to watch the news and eat your breakfast.

For Bucky, breakfast lasted all of two minutes, but after ten, he grabbed both of your plates and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch. A make out session ensued directly after and as your lips touched Bucky’s soft, pink ones, word of a big storm later in the night came on the news.

Recalling the memory with a faint smile on your face, you and Clint reached the front door of Bucky’s house. You had your own apartment above a Chinese restaurant downtown, but most days you avoided it like the plague, but who could blame you? When you weren’t at Bucky’s house, he begged you to come over or spend the night and to be honest, you would much rather be there than alone in your own one-bedroom closet of an apartment.

“Well, this is your stop. I’m headed to Nat’s place, but if Bucky asks, I’m at Sam’s,” Clint said as you reached the doorstep of Bucky’s house. Despite Bucky’s constant inflow of money, he chose to purchase a worn down, gothic style house. It was one of two in a cul-de-sac, not too far from downtown. It is perfect walking distance for you to get to work easily, but also secluded from the prying eyes of everyone in town.

You gave Clint a firm nod and said a quiet thank you before slipping your key to the house in the lock and letting yourself inside. You turned around to send a smile Clint’s way and watched as he raced back out into the pouring rain.

You quickly shut the door and peeled your wet boots off, sliding them into the shoe trunk that resides next to the front door. If you thought taking off your wet boots was a challenge, getting your soaking jacket off was even harder. After shucking it off and hanging it on a post by the door, you raced upstairs, completely forgetting the food your stomach so desperately craved only moments earlier

Now the only thing you truly craved was Bucky. It was only half after eight o’clock, which meant that his meeting in the study upstairs would still be going on, but you couldn’t help yourself. After running up the stairs, you slowly creaked the door to his study open, eyes falling upon Bucky behind the desk and Drax behind him. That explained why he was not there to pick you up per usual.

In front of the desk in a wooden chair was a face you had only seen through Bucky’s computer screen, Alexander Pierce. Next to him, in a matching chair, was Rumlow, his signature bodyguard.

All eyes in the room fell on you and you stuttered out a quick apology before slamming the door shut and slowly creeping away from the door.

You knew Bucky had wanted to take over Pierce’s side of the city and run it entirely under his own mob, but you never expected to see this man in his house. That was the purpose of having a separate business location in the city. The house is meant for private meetings within the group. It unnerved you to look into those steel blue eyes, ones that had looked down upon one of Bucky’s men earlier in the year before Pierce murdered him.

That is part of why Bucky wants to take over, he knows the revenge will be so sweet. Not only will he finally put a bullet through Pierce’s eyes, but have the satisfaction of keeping the city he grew up in safe. This meeting was definitely a manipulation trick to get on Pierce’s good side, you were just worried knowing that man was in the same room as Bucky.

Taking a deep breath, you move to Bucky’s room and slide a thick long-sleeved shirt on, one that smelled so strongly of Bucky. It calmed your nerves slightly, but not completely. In one of Bucky’s dresser drawers resides a few pairs of your clean underwear and socks, so you finish the job and pull off your jeans and panties to put on a clean pair of panties.

Climbing on top of the sheets, you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. Grabbing a book and settling in, it took an hour before you heard footsteps going down the staircase and the front door slam.

You hastily jump to your feet and peak the bedroom door open to look into the hallway at Drax shutting the study door. Seeing your curious eyes, he sends you a quick smile and a nod towards the door.

Once he has retreated down the staircase and out the door as well, you rush down the hallway in only Bucky’s shirt and fuzzy socks and knock on the study door this time. “Come in,” Bucky says softly. You walk in slowly; the dim light of the study fireplace illuminating your figure as your round his desk and climb on his lap.

“Hi James,” you whisper into his ear as you straddle him. His long, thick arms are instantly on you and stroking your thighs.

“Hi babygirl. How was the walk home with Clint? I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick you up tonight, but as you saw, this was in an important meeting,” Bucky says as his calloused hands run up and down your exposed thighs.

“It’s ok Buck, Clint was just fine. Talkative, but fine,” you say with a soft giggle. He practically beams back at you as you slide your hands over his recently buzzed hair. “I miss your long hair,” you huff with a frown.

“I know baby, but I think this new style makes me look fiercer, don’t you agree?” His smile only grows as you stare deeply into his eyes.

“I hate to break it to you Buck, but you will never look fierce to me. You are a big ‘ole softie.” Laughter fills the room as he grasps your upper legs slightly harder.

“Says you. Pierce certainly found me threatening. At least until you peaked in,” he exclaims as he dips his head in your neck and places soft kisses along the skin. Despite the dark marks from the early morning make out session, he places more bites into the unmarked sections of your neck.  

You start to breath heavily as you say, “yeah, sorry about that James. I didn’t know your meeting was with him. I just assumed it was a typical financial meeting with Stevie.” He pulls his head out and locks his lust filled eyes with your own, a matching heat slowly beginning to fill them.

“Hey, don’t be. Your face was a welcome sight after sitting with Pierce and Rumlow for a few hours.” He rubs your arms up and down before leaning in and breathing into your mouth. His lips tease your own, not quite touching them, but delicately brushing them. His hands move back to their original spot on your thighs as he finally makes his move.

Hot lips clash and all thoughts of a gentle kiss fly out the window. The rough sounds of teeth clashing and tongues colliding fills the study as he grips your legs and pulls you as close as he can. Immediately, a soft moan escapes his mouth as your panty clad core rubs against his own strained blue jeans. “Sweetheart if you keep this up, it’s going to be over before anything is even started.”

Your sweet laugh fills his ears and only makes him want you more. You grind down harder onto him and wrap your arms around his neck. Instantly, he thrusts up into you and causes a jolt to rush through you. “Buck,” you whisper softly into his ear as you lean your head on his shoulder.

“What do you want Y/N? Want me to fuck you on my desk? Or ride me in my chair?” His breath is hot on your skin and coming out in pants as he starts to rub your back, his thrusts never ceasing.

“Ride you Buck, please let me ride you.”

His breathy laugh fills you up with more love than you thought you could contain. “Anything you want princess. Anything.”

With that, he reaches between your legs and unzips his jeans, untucking himself from his boxer briefs. A moan escapes you as you look down at him and you reach down to shove your underwear to the side. He slides in easily and a deep moan from his chest floods from his mouth. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he grabs your ass and thrusts into you. “God, I love you so much Y/N. You make me feel so good.”

“James, don’t stop. Please, harder,” you pant into his ear as you grip his shoulders. And always the gentleman, he gives you what you desire. Hard, sharp thrusts cause audible gasps to leave your mouth and sends shocks of pleasure through his body. You make sure to grind down and meet each of his thrusts, eliciting a delicious gasp from his dark lips.

After a few minutes his thrusts becomes sloppier and rougher, which you did not think was possible at this point. “Shit Y/N, I am gonna come soon,” he moans into your ear. You nod along with him to imply your own release is on its way. All too soon, he releases into you and gasps for breath in your ear. “Fuck,” he whispers. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes as you begin to fall apart on him.

“Oh James,” you pant as you come down from your high. Slowly, he lifts you onto your wobbly feet and wraps his arm around your waist.

“Let’s get you cleaned up babygirl,” he says as you both walk into his bedroom. He plants you on the bed and you let yourself fall back into the soft mattress. He lets out small laugh as he moves to go to the bathroom attached to his room. “I’ll be right back.” With that, he goes to wet a towel and grab your favorite lotion. “Open your legs for me princess, gotta get you cleaned up,” he says in a soft voice reserved for you only.

You throw a lazy smile at him as he approaches and begins wipe you down and then clean himself up after. You begin to sit up once he throws the dirty towel in the laundry bin and watch as he uncaps the lotion and moves behind you. You strip off his shirt and soon after his rough hands begin massaging your back. “That feels so good Buck,” you moan as your eyes start to droop. He smiles and kisses your exposed shoulder blade in response. After working a knot out of your back, he rubs down your arms and pulls you back into him.

“Let’s get you to bed babygirl, it’s been a long day for the both of us.” You shoot him a smile before crawling under the sheets and tangling your legs with his own. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you more James.” Reaching up, you run your fingers through his short hair and smile. “More than you’ll ever know.”

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Gonna write my scatterbrained Spicy Hot Takes on Agartha before the news is stale and I delete this annoying and boring chapter from my mental landscape, so bear with me:

I think Agartha’s main issue was just straight up poor writing. The Japanese direct translations being as downright offensive as they were is one thing - but overall, the chapter is just one plot contrivance after another. It tries so, so hard to go for a certain tone but can’t seem to stick to any one thing or idea. Disregarding themes about sexuality probably would have been the very best way to go about this chapter, since I think the most interesting part was the theme about storytelling and in-authenticity - we all know that That Line was annoying af in a game like FGO, but it CAN work in a series like Fate as a whole. I had a helluva long day at work so allow me to explain in the least scatter-brained way I can manage right now:

Here’s what I’m thinking: Scheherazade, whose name I guarantee I will spell wrong/differently every time I write it even though I’ve been able to pronounce it properly since I was thirteen (I was in a speaking competition and told some of the Thousand and One Nights using her framework as the opening monologue, long story short ANYWAY -) is traumatized by her ordeal with the king. This is a really good and interesting thing to explore! Fitting it in with the theme of storytelling - Scheherazade is deeply afraid of dying and will do whatever it takes to live, so she makes a fantasy world and fills it with legends, and feeds their energy to a Holy Grail. With this, and the power of a Demon God at her side, she plans to reveal magic to the human world in the most destructive fashion possible, allowing the fantastic to become ordinary, and destroying the Throne of Heroes itself in the process. Fate is a series were stories have power - but Scheherazade survived basically by telling the most fantastical, interesting tales she could and never finishing them. She always would pause in the middle, and say, “That’s all for tonight.” I think this is the kind of thing we can run with in terms of setting.

Dahut is the weirdest example because it’s the one story in the chapter that I know next to nothing about. At one point it’s mentioned that Dahut is impossible to summon as a Servant, and so Drake was “forced” into the role of the Pirate Princess. Ys is probably the weakest part of the chapter for that, but I did like the idea of her being “Drake Alter,” where Drake vibrantly pursues her goals and desires but takes nothing for granted; Dahut gives into her every whim and takes absolutely everything for granted. The conflict between “Drake” and “Dahut” should have been emphasized more instead of having the player/Da Vinci dismiss her as “Oh, it’s not Drake, except when she conveniently comes back to delivery us the MacGuffins Ex Machina in the eleventh hour.” Dahut has little connection to Drake - it’s not her story, but a role she was forced into because Scheherazade was building a very specific kind of world. Therefore it is inauthentic. Perhaps that’s all it needs to be in this context. 

This can also work with the Amazons. Scheherazade never told stories of the Amazons, but she has access to basically all stories in the world through her Noble Phantasm - she learns that they are a society of warrior women who live without men, and so decides that they will be a society which oppresses men due to her fear/bitterness towards men after the ordeal she suffered through. The “oppressing men” plotline was honestly dumb all around but using the Amazons as a mechanism to explore Scheherazade's trauma would’ve been more interesting than just having them be the Big Bad before the Big Bad Columbus Reveal: Scheherazade doesn’t like fighting, but wishes that she had been strong enough to protect herself. Because she views herself as a coward and her ordeal with the king has complicated her view of sexuality - “I’m better suited to a bedchamber than a battlefield” - she uses the Amazons of Agartha as a mechanism to cope. 

This brings us to Wu, whose design I’m still not happy about even though I think the in-story justification is somewhat fair. (Let Helena and Wu be gray-haired grannies together or so help me!) Wu was absolutely an authoritarian ruler who did, in fact, invade and conquer several nations and institute a terrifying network of secret police. In her later life, she was given to decadence - but her tenure on the throne showed her to be a highly competent administrator. Notably, she ruled over an era of religious tension and balanced matters quite well, and though she was accused of undoing meritocracy to put her supporters into power, many of the men she appointed held positions in government long after she’d died because they were actually good at their jobs. Wu has been heavily mythologized over the years - later Tang emperors and Neo-Confucian scholars wrote her off (Wu founded her own dynasty under her own name, so they kind of had to legitimize it somehow), she became associated the nine-tailed fox spirit thanks to a few popular novels and poems, etc., etc., etc. The crazy thing is that Wu actually left very few records of herself behind, apart from some poems. Even the inscription on her tomb is blank! People can say whatever they want about her - it’s extremely difficult to know the full truth of the matter without any objective observers in the field (and without Wu’s own words to give context/another story), especially if you don’t read any Chinese. 

BTW - the first thing I learned history class is that when you’re dealing with primary sources, you must always remember that translators have agendas. Every word is a deliberate choice, and it changes the meaning from the original text. When dealing with historical documents, this is not always a good thing. 

Scheherazade reads some, but not all of these stories, and integrates Wu into her world as the sadist empress with an iron grip on her decadent mythical city. 

Do you see what I’m getting at here? It’s a lot, but I’m not done. Now we have to deal with Columbus - there’s “In Defense of Columbus” video is floating around in the Agartha tag, but I haven’t watched it in full and haven’t done like, any intensive research on Columbus in particular, so I’m going to apologize right now for any historical inaccuracies/misconceptions that I’m about to write. The point I want to make here mainly is that Columbus, like Wu, has been heavily, heavily mythologized for both good and evil at various points. The thing about Columbus that is also interesting is that the authenticity of his journals is or was apparently a subject of debate. The man who published most of them actually happened to be Bartolomew de las Casas - one of the founders/first vocal supporters of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. The reason de la Casas supported this is because he believed that using African labor would be an improvement over enslaving the native populations of the New World. Soon after, he had a change of heart and devoted the rest of his life to fighting against slavery in all forms. De la Casas went on to be named a saint, and was possibly the first person in history to propose the idea of universal human rights - which is how I had heard of him until literally just this afternoon; I had no idea he’d ever supported the slave trade until I was looking up basic info about Columbus’s writings so I could write this long-ass post. History is full of complicated people. 

But as I mentioned in Wu’s bit, it’s very important to note that in many ways, Columbus is literally just whatever people decide he is. Like, he never even set foot in any land that would become the United States, and yet he’s a huge symbol here! Along these lines, his amnesia would fit the theme of inauthentic storytelling, choosing what to read and what to believe in. Columbus regaining his memories was an understated moment, which is actually fucking fantastic because it could be used to really emphasize the choice that is being made here. He’s a Heroic Spirit who can choose to be whatever he wants. He can choose to be the simple hero-explorer that schoolchildren sing about, or he can choose to be the Big Bad, the first and perhaps most infamous conquistador. And he chooses to be the bad guy. That is so fuckin’ fantastic, y’all! I honest to God love that not only did FGO portray Columbus as a villain of history but that the bad reputation is something he chooses to maintain! I can write a list of Servants who were less than stellar people and got a makeover for Fate. Nero is probably one of the worst examples but like - Ozymandias absolutely owned slaves in his life as a pharaoh. Hercules and Medea murdered their own children. Asterios literally ate humans as the Minotaur. Gilles de Rais exists as a playable character. Jack the Ripper is your daughter. Hell, Nobunaga burned temples with the monks still inside - but she feels bad about it now! Enough digressing but I a hundred percent get why Japanese fans found Columbus “refreshing” at his introduction. He owns his cruelty, his desire to exploit others - he challenges the narrative that everyone is redeemable because he doesn’t even want to be redeemed, he just wants to get rich and famous, and he doesn’t give a shit who he steps over in the process! Like, Columbus said, “I’m just doing what comes naturally,” at one point when he still had amnesia, so when he got his memory back and turned on the player, I really would’ve liked for him to say is something like, “You’ve already decided that I’m the bad guy, right? You know my story, and I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

These kinds of questions/debates could have been used to emphasize the themes of Agartha. Legends are what people decide they are. People make choices and history decides whether they were good or evil or important retroactively. Can you know what someone is like by reading a translation of their poetry? Can you judge a king’s reign by the words of their successors or their rivals? Does the context of a story matter? This all could have been super interesting to explore!

Like I said, the main theme of Agartha being “inauthentic storytelling” could have been hella, hella good considering that this is a world created by Scheherazade’s fears and trauma feeding into her escapist desires. But Minase’s incompetence as a writer made everything so hamfisted and awkward that everything just suffered under his desire to insert his fetishes at every moment. It was so obvious that he didn’t read any material for old Fate characters - like Astolfo you poor sweet thing, you deserved so much better! - and even the new characters that he clearly did research on, like Columbus, fell flat because he couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say beyond mildly-to-extra offensive sex jokes.

[enthusiasticharry]

The Couple above the Chinese

masterlist

asks

summary: Harry and Y/N have been best friends since they could walk, but, after a drunken night out, the get to know each other in another way, a way they fantasied about.

“Harry, if you’re not fucking down these stairs in a minute, I’m leaving,” She says, moving from side to side on each foot, stood in the tiny, cramped stairway of their shared apartment. It smelt like tandoori, since it’s located over a tandoori restaurant, but it does perfectly for the two of them, and they had gotten used to the smell after a while, and it grows on you, “Harry!”

“I’m coming! Calm your tits woman, I was just sprucing up a bit,” He says, still buttoning up his shirt as he walks downstairs, and she groans, annoyed at the fact that she reminded him an hour ago that they were going out, and he’s just finishing getting ready.

“I am calm you dickhead, you’re just the laziest person that’s every lived,” She says, pushing him out of the door so you can lock it. He laughs at her and leans against the wall outside the door. She looks at him, sticks out her tongue and starts walking down the path, leaving him stood on the doorstep.

“I’m not lazy Y/N, just preoccupied with other things,” He smirks and she hits his shoulder. He’s crude, but she wouldn’t have him any other way, she loves him how he is and has done since they were toddlers in Nursery — since that’s where they met, all those moons ago, “But you love me for it.”

“That’s what you think,” She smirks at him and he drops his mouth open in shock, pretending to look hurt with his hand over his heart. The playful banter between them comes to easily, and she feels warm inside when it starts. She wouldn’t act on this warmth though, she swore to herself that any feelings she felt for him she would keep inside, under lock and key where nothing can happen. That’s where it was safest, but, it doesn’t mean that when he’s looking so delicious in a white button up, not buttoned up completely and some black trousers that she ogles at, because she can, and most of the time she has to keep her thighs tightly shut.

Harry, when he became 16, started to change, just after the time that she did. She grew boobs and hips and started her period and he stayed the adorable Harry, but then his voice broke and his face started to harden and he started to work out and he became hot, and she definitely noticed. Everybody they knew did too, and they tried their hardest to sleep with him but Harry seemed to pick the ones that didn’t worship at his feet, and it made her like him more.

They arrived at the club on time, surprisingly, and were just in time for the first round of shots between everyone. Mitch was buying, so everyone automatically said that they would have one, and they all started cheering when they came. Y/N didn’t leave Harry’s side, since, whenever they went out she wasn’t a big partier, and Harry always made her feel safe. She sat with a margarita in her hand, her legs crossed watching Harry dance on the crowded floor with everyone. His hands on a girls waist as she grinds into him, short and quick breaths leaving both of their lips. Y/N ends up drinking margarita after margarita until she’s thoroughly pissed and unable to walk straight. Harry notices this when she stands up, nearly topping over before she steadies herself on the shoulder of a passing waiter, which makes her hiccough a ‘Sorry’ to him.

She watches Harry as he walks over to her stumbling figure and steadies her before she topples over again, and she giggles in his arms, “Okay, love, I think it’s time we got you home.”

“No, I’m enjoying myself H,” She says, standing up straight but ends up loosing her balance and leaning against his stern figure, “Ooh, hard.”

He laughs and helps her stand up straight, before walking her towards the exit, hiccough’s leaving her lips again. Harry’s only seen her this drunk a few times and he’s actually grateful that he’s not drunk, and that they don’t live too far away from the club. They make it back with Y/N only falling over once, and her throwing up in a bin once so Harry puts in the books as a success. Tackling their stairs isn’t such a success, but after a couple of fails and a sulk, they make it up and Y/N falls onto the sofa, with Harry there taking her heels off. He sits with her feet in his lap, rubbing them gently so that she feels some kind relief from being stuck in her heels all night. She ends up staring at him, at the way his hair puffs on his head in curls, his jawline strong, his lips pink and she bites her lip — a habit she inhabited during high school, after the long nights she’d spent huddled up on her small bed reading romance novels.

That was a trait that she had that made Harry love her. The way she would get so excited whenever a book that she ordered arrived and would get started reading it straight away. She would sit for however many hours it took her to read it and she wouldn’t stop until she had. Harry would hear muttering things to herself as he passed her room, or biting her lip in the living room whenever there was a steamy scene and was trying not to make it obvious, and Harry found it adorable.

She runs her finger along her bottom lip as she watches him, their eyes drawn to each other as they stare. Even in her intoxicated state, she still finds herself drooling over him, and the way his muscles contract and flare as he rubs your feet. It makes you want jump on him, but you don’t, you clamp our thighs together tightly instead.

“You’re really hot, H,” She says, moving so that she’s sat instead of laid, but her feet still rest in his lap. He looks at her and smiles and she smiles back, resting her head on her palm.

“Oh yeah? I’m really hot?” He says and she nods, a giggle leaving her lips as she does so, her hand moving to the curls at the back of his neck, and he leans into the touch. He can’t explain to her how long he’s waiting for this, and he can feel it in him, and he hopes that she doesn’t move her foot and feel it, “What’s brought this on, love?”

“I don’t know,” She says, still running her fingers through his hair, smiling at him, “I’m very pissed, and you looked really good today and I’m tired of acting like I don’t see it.” She’s embarrassed telling him this, but the alcohol inside of hers helping a bit and she finally gets it out. He looks at her and smiles.

“What if I told you that I think you looked beautiful tonight?” He says, his hands stopping moving on her feet and up to her face, where he runs his finger over her lip which she bites to suppress a smile. He laughs and bites his own lip, and she moves so that she’s straddling his lap, her legs either side of his.

“If you told me that,” She says, looping her arms around his neck, “I’d do this.” And her lips were on his. At first, the kiss was small, the touch between them only being small before it grew and grew and it became more intense. She had never kissed someone like this, it was one of the best and most intoxicating kisses she’d ever had, and she hoped it would last forever.

Harry pulled away from her, only to smile at her he wrap his fingers around the soft material of her dress and pull it over her head, leaving her in her granny-panties and comfortable bra — since she really didn’t think that this would be happened, but it doesn’t mean that she didn’t want it to.

He smiles at her and moves to press small kisses down her neck, and she intakes breaths as he does so. His fingers work around her back and start to unclasp her bra, throwing it across the room somewhere, a smile on his face as he does so. She leans back and he starts littering kisses down her neck and chest until he reaches her budding nipples, and wraps his lips around them. Small whine like noises leave her lips as his teeth graze each one, sending sparks right to her core. Her fingers start to work on the buttons that he did fasten up on his shirt before pulling it off him, and throwing it in a similar direction to hers, her eyes lighting up at his bare torso. She moves a little and can feel him poking into her leg, and she giggles.

“You think that’s funny, eh, poppet?” He asks, and she giggles some more, hiding her face in his neck and the next thing she knows, he’s picking her up, her legs wrapped around his waist as he carries her through their small apartment, towards his room. She’s only been in his room a few times, and she had been fantasising about going in for this reason, and she feels giddy inside. She’s a giggling mess to be honest.

He throws her down on the bed and crawls on top of her, and can’t help the throbbing of his cock as he looks down at her, laid on his bed, not covering herself up to him, showing him everything he’d fantasied about. The thoughts about what is about to happen filling his mind, the idea of the girl in front of him wrapping her plump lips around his cock, or moaning on top of him as she rides him.

Their lips connect again, this time with more passion between them, a burning one that goes straight to Y/N’s core, setting her up for what’s about to happen. His lips trail down her neck for a third time, wrapping around her nipple for the last time before moving further down. His fingers hook into the side of her panties and pull them down, off her legs and onto the floor. He smirks at her and she wriggles under his touch, quick and harsh breaths leaving her lips as he places multiple small kisses onto her thighs.

“What do you want, love?” He asks, wrapping his arms around her legs, moving to them so they’re resting over his shoulders. The smile on his lips was haunting, dragging her in, making it hopeless for her to leave, but she didn’t want to.

“I want you,” She says, her chest rising and falling at a quick speed as she feels his breath hit her core as he rests in between her legs, “I want your fingers, and you mouth.” Her breathing becomes rigid as he leans downs even further,

“Your wish is my command, pet,” He says, pushing one finger inside her, a moan leaving her parted lips as he does, “Such a tight cunt love, how long has it been?”

“A while,” She says, moans leaving her lips as he adds another finger, his lips wrapping around her nub. He’s teasing her, not going to fast or flicking her clit too quickly with his tongue because he doesn’t want her to come yet, he wants to work her up and then feel how tight she is with his cock when she’s ready for it, “Harry...” She moans, as he keeps pushing his fingers inside of her at a quicker pace, one that has her moaning and wriggling under his touch.

“What, gorgeous?” He says, pulling away from her and looking up, his fingers still moving in an out of her. He can see her struggling and he smirks, biting his lips,

“I want your...” She says, pushing his fingers out of her and pulling him up so that she can kiss him on the lips, “I want your cock.” She bites her lip and works on unbuckling his belt, and pulling his trousers down with his boxers. She bites her lip when she looks at him, his member standing proud in between them as their lips connect again. Whilst their still kissing, and without warning, she lowers her hand in between them and grasps his cock. He pulls away from her kiss for a minute and she giggles into their kiss.

“You finding that funny too, pet?” He says and she bites her lips again, her hand moving up and down his shaft at a slow, agonising pace, “I’ll show you what’s funny.”

She laughs louder as he pulls her up, pushing her further up the bed so her heads rested on his plush pillows. He reaches over, placing a kiss on her shoulder as he grabs a condom, rips it and places it over his cock, taking in a breath as he does so. He leans over her, pressing a kiss to her lips and pushes in, her tight cunt wrapping around his cock as he eases in. He lets out a groan, and an “Ah fuck,” before starting to move in and out in a rhythm, causing the girl underneath him to be so satisfied, with gasping and heavy breathes as her back plummets into the mattress.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” Harry says, his lips pressing kisses to the girls neck as her fingernails run across his back, scratching as their hips move together at a fast pace, “You gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Mhmm,” is all she can get out, and for the first time that night, she feels her walls tightening around him, pleasure emitting from the pit of her stomach. She’s so caught up that she doesn’t realise it’s him, her best friend, who she’s had a crush on since she was sixteen, pushing his cock in and out of her, coaxing her to her orgasm with sweet words in her ear. “Harry!” She moves her fingers up to his hair, and her hips thrust upwards and she’s so lost with the fairies that all she can think about is the pleasure she’s feeling all at once. He joins her once he feels her tightening around him from her orgasm, emptying himself into the condom before collapsing on top of her, his breath becoming rigid.

“You alright, pretty girl?” He asks, pushing some of the hair that’s sticking to her forehead out of the way as he pulls out, a whimper leaving her lips at this. She nods her head and snuggles into the duvet, watching him as he goes and puts the condom in the bin, before joining her back in bed, pressing a kiss to her lips, “You tired?”

She shakes her head and giggles, “Good, because were only getting started.”

Y/N giggles once more and watches as he moves between her legs again.

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

Esther Stoley

Is she going to whip her brother into shape? Esther has been accepted! Please send in a faceclaim to be featured on the main page.

out of character info

Name/Alias: bea / trizzy / beatriz Pronouns: she / her / he / him / they / them / trash Age: 19 (20 in May) Join Our Discord: sure thing !! Timezone: est Activity: 6 – ish ( i’ll be on at least every other day c: ) Triggers: nada !! Password: jimmy can fast pass my ass ;)) Character that you’re applying for: Esther Stoley Favourite ships for your character: Esther / Chemistry

in character info

Full name: Esther Lyn Stoley Birthday: June 18th Sexuality, gender, pronouns: Bicurious, cis female, she / her Age and grade: 17, senior Faceclaim: Ha Young / @dull_ouuo on instagram Appearance:  Head / face: Smooth, nearly flawless, pale skin is the product of Esther’s constant skin care routine and her jet black, shoulder length hair frames her heart shaped face. Her features are soft but defined with a jaw line that could cut diamonds. Her eyes are a deep brown, followed by a button nose, and plump lips that are, more often than not, lightly coated in lip tint. Her only “imperfections” are two small moles – one on her left cheek, and the other on the left side of her nose.

Body: Her body is rather thin, but still healthy. She stands at approximately 5’1 and weighs about 102 pounds. She hates the fact that she’s so short, and would definitely fight you if you start picking on her about her height. Aside from her height issues, she is happy with her body.

Style: The clothing that Esther chooses to wear can be described Asian Street Style. Her outfits are self-described as eclectic and eccentric – which essentially means each ensemble varies and can possibly be viewed as strange or extraordinary, especially for the South Park norm. Her face is often lightly painted with makeup – her eyes are usually lined with a dark brown or black and have either light or neutral colored eye shadow, and her lips vary from dark, matte lipsticks ( usually shades of red ) to soft, glossy tints. Personality:  Smart, conniving, hopeless romantic, and chic – that’s Esther. She maintains straight A’s in school with the occasional B plus, but anything below won’t satisfy her need for success, so she tries her hardest and can often be found locked in her room, listening to music and studying for her next quiz. Despite her smarts, she can often be a bit air-headed and forgetful at times – which stresses her out, especially when she knows that she had forgotten something and she just can’t remember what it was, no matter how hard she wracked her brain. She often dreams about finding love – but she usually doesn’t put herself out there as much as she should – so she usually doesn’t get into relationships ( although she does had the occasional secret fling ).

She can be found at parties quite regularly, but she is more of an introvert and would much rather be snuggled up in a big, fluffy, fresh-out-of-the-dryer blanket with a plethora of snacks at her disposal while she watches some random movies or reads some books. She does keep a lot of secrets from just about everyone – especially anyone outside of her family – she’d hate if she came upon some gossip of herself. She can be overly emotional at times – but she hardly ever shows that to anyone. On the days she feels like she’s gonna burst out into tears at any second, she stays home and locks herself in her bedroom, somehow convincing her teachers that she was bedridden and sick on those absent days. History:  Like her brother, Esther spent a good portion of her childhood immersed in a whole ‘nother world away from the mess of a town that they lived in – however, instead of comics and syfy – she indulged in love stories and cringy fantasy novels. As she got older, she started to stray away from her false world and came back into reality. She interacted more and more with the girls at her school – even becoming pretty popular and being brought into the “inner circle” of girls. Of course, a great deal of things changed over the switch from elementary to middle school – Esther even made changes to her personality. She became more secretive and hid the softer and kinder side of herself so she wouldn’t accidentally get involved with the wrong people and hurt herself and nobody would see her as weak or as easy prey. She kept her emotions to herself and acted colder to people around her. Puberty hit her like a freight train – she was covered in acne as a pre-teen and all of a sudden her skin was soft and clear with hardly any marks or blemishes in sight. Esther felt better now that she looked better ( in her opinion of course ). She started gaining a ton of positive self esteem and held herself in a way where she exuded a level of confidence. She honestly felt like a queen. As she made the transition into 12th grade, she – thankfully – kept that confidence and self esteem boost ( though she did still get emotional at times, because, who doesn’t? ), but she did start taking time away from being social to live another life through books once again. Sample paragraph:  Esther had just gotten off school and since she hadn’t had anything else to do for the day she decided to sit down and relax with a nice book. In order for her to really enjoy said book, she had to set a mood. She threw her backpack into a corner by the door and took off her shoes, running to start up a pot of coffee. The short girl quickly put on a pot of coffee and quickly and quietly, ran to her room – she shut the blinds and lit a few floral scented candles, making the room dark, but well lit enough for her to be able to read her book. She purposely messed her bed up, forming a nest of blankets in the center and ran back down to her kitchen to fix herself a cup of coffee. She poured the freshly brewed instant coffee into a teal mug, mixing in a small bit of sugar before carefully bringing it up to her bedroom and sitting it down on her nightstand. She went over to one of her several bookshelves and pulled out a book that she’d planned on reading for a while called ‘Siren’ by a woman named Janet Fox.

She went over to her blanket nest and made herself cozy, pulling one of the blankets over her shoulders. Before she started to read, she took a long sip of coffee, then she opened to the first page. For nearly two hours, she was fully immersed in her book – reading about gangsters in the 1920’s. However, as soon as her brother opened her door to see if she was home, her set mood was ruined. She accepted that she was no longer to envelope herself in as much comfort as she was in before and put her book away. She blew out the candles and allowed natural light to shine through her blinds once more as she sipped up the last bit of her coffee. Headcanons:  ✧ Sometimes, she ( not-so-secretly ) reads Kevin’s comics. ✧ She would 10/10 fight to protect her brother. ✧ If you get into a relationship with her, she can be a bit clingy, so beware. ✧ She secretly crushed on all of the Goths in middle school, with the exception of Firkle, because she thought they were all really cool. ✧ She changes her hair up every other month – it’s always one of these 3 colors – grey with slight blue tints, brown, or black. Black is by far her favorite hair color for herself and she has that color most often. ✧ She’s almost always up-to-date on the latest gossip and drama in town. ✧ She has an intense love of poetry. ✧ There’s a raven that is often in her backyard and she feeds it when she sees it. ✧ She has 3 full length bookshelves in her room and one small bookshelf that doubles as her nightstand. ✧ She may not say nor show it much but she loves Kevin with all of her heart. ✧ That being said, if anyone hurts Kevin, you better avoid Esther as much as you can or else you’re in for a beating. ✧ She knows quite a lot of Chinese; and she often shouts in Mandarin when she’s angry. ✧ She has at least 4 cups of coffee a day. ✧ She smokes when she’s stressed ( strictly cigarettes ) ✧ She lost her virginity at 15 to Bradley Biggle – not her greatest achievement. ✧ She broke up with Bradley shortly afterwards – he thinks it was mutual and they’re on good terms – but she sent him home sobbing and she would most definitely stab him if it was morally accepted and she wouldn’t go to jail for it. ✧ She has a Siamese Cat named BaoBei – meaning “baby” in Chinese. ✧ She’s head of the school newspaper. ✧ She’s considered joining the poetry club – but she doesn’t think her own poetry would be good enough for it – and so she didn’t. ✧ She took up a job at Benny’s as a waitress for some extra cash. ✧ She really likes looking at art, but she’s not really into art, if you get what I mean. ✧ She loves the vintage aesthetic. ✧She’s not the best cook, but she can microwave stuff, and that’s better than nothing. ✧ Her favorite color is dark teal. Anything else: tell me if i should change anything !! thank you guys !! also, sorry i gave such random hc’s i just got a ton of muse + ideas. in addition, this blog i’m sending from will be esther’s once i do some re-vamping uwu

[edelweissdev-blog]

Bio for Zhu Yijun, winner of the OC Contest!

In honour of our winner of the OC contest, Omega, here is the profile of his award winning character, Yijun! Thanks again for this fantastic character!

Name: 朱怡君 (Zhu Yijun, or Yijun Zhu in western naming conventions)

Nationality: Han Chinese (specifically looking to rep Nat. China)

Ideology: Three Principles of the People/Mínshēng Syndicalism (Would be represented in game as Radical Socialist. Essentially a more agrarian version of socialism, based off the social conditions of rural southern china, and influenced heavily through Georgism. Would be pretty heterodox to typical syndicalism, but Yijun doesn’t really care what the damn French have to think about it, this is what her family has fought and died for.)

Appearance: Yijun, due to both already coming from a western-minded family, and due to living in France for most of her adolescent life, has adopted a western wardrobe. As a testament to her father and of her political beliefs, Yijun will often wear the sky blue that was once the color of the National Revolutionary Army uniforms. A typical outfit for Yijun might consist of a matching sky blue cardigan and skirt, with a white blouse, or it could be a light blue dress. Yijun typically does not wear a hat in everyday wear, instead keeping her long, back-length black hair free and straight. Yijun does have short bangs, and her hair comes around both of her sides along with her back.Her brown eyes are not bispectaled, nor does she typically wear any form of jewelry on her. Yijun’s most defining facial feature is a small, x-shaped scar on her left cheek, which she obtained during the fall of Wuchang and her escape from the city.

Much like the socialists she met in France, Yijun has took the habit of wearing an armband in everyday wear here in Geneva. Instead of the the typical red armband, Yijun instead wears a blue armband with the white sun of the Kuomintang. Yijun wears it as a visual reminder to herself that the Xinhai Revolution has not died yet, and she will be the bridge to carry it from her father’s generation to her own. It also serves as an immediate indicator to others that she is Chinese, but does not identify with the current Chinese government, along with indicating that she is a socialist (although not European-style syndicalism).

Personality: Yijun’s experiences as a child during the collapse of Kuomintang rule in Southern China, along with the visceral anger of losing most of her family in the resulting chaos, had fundamentally broken Yijun. What had once been a sweet, loving, and caring girl has been replaced with an unyielding, if tranquil, fury. It is hard for Yijun to focus on anything beyond her feelings of pain and guilt, and thus she has tried to erect barriers around herself to keep anyone from getting close to her. In effect, in Geneva, Yijun is simply afraid of getting too close to her fellow students, preferring to just focus on her studies in the background of whatever relationship drama is unfolding around her. That is not to say Yijun will not talk if approached to, but she will seem cold and distant; it could easily be misread that she simply thought everyone was beneath her, but it's actually because Yijun just doesn’t know how to connect with other people anymore, and is too afraid to try to again.

Yijun isn’t one to be quick to anger; her life experiences has made her simply let go of personal slights that may have gotten under other people’s skins. However, when it comes to truly important topics that Yijun holds close to her heart, like the legacy of her father and brothers, the way Germany, Japan, and other powers conspired to ransack her home again, or someone upholding truly reactionary thought; her anger towards that individual will be hard to subdue. Yijun is not one to easily forgive nor forget, but to anyone in Geneva who manages to open her shell, she will also prove to be a most loyal friend as well.

Yijun’s main interests, in an academic setting, is history, particularly the history of China. As part of her education back home, she is well-versed in some of the classic literature of her homeland, where she particularly identifies with the legends of both Hua Mulan and the Ming loyalist Koxinga. Asking her about her country’s history is one of the easiest ways to get her to open up, as she could spend hours detailing minute details of various peasant uprisings against corrupt and decadent emperors. However, that fascinations ends on anything related to the Qing: they are nothing more than foreign bandits that had, and now thanks to Germany, continue to plunder from China and keep it in a feudal dark age. Saying anything positive about the Manchu dynasty is perhaps the easiest way to get her to explode.

Yijun also has a budding interest in writing as well. Most of her writing, beyond schoolwork, has been unfocused short stories about whatever was on her mind at the time she picked up her pen. She even admits they’re not really all that good, but its something to do so that she doesn’t go mad when her mind keeps focusing on what happened ten years ago. Yijun has mused about the idea of writing an “alternative history” novel like that American novel she found in a Paris library, It Can’t Happen Here! However, she doesn’t know what to do with it, beyond a general desire to “fix” the Xinhai Revolution so that it was never betrayed by foreigners. A quirk related to her writing is that she only will do stories in her native Mandarin, with traditional hanzi characters. To Yijun, the symbolism and the artistic calligraphy of the characters adds a dimension to the writing that Latin-based scripts lack, but it also means that most students at Geneva simply have to take her word at what she’s writing.  

Biography:

[NOTE: This is based off of publicly revealed but not yet implemented lore for China, so if you’re wondering if some of these references aren’t making any sense, this is why. I got my source from here: http://cs.servegame.com/kaiserreich/thread-2204.html. However, it was down the last time I tried to access it, so you may need to wayback machine it]

Yijun was born in bumbling city of Guangzhou on June 1st, 1918; the youngest of three and the only daughter. Her father, Zhu Tao, was from Wuchang, and personally witnessed the Wuchang Uprising in 1911, the initial Tongmenghui resistance to the Qing dynasty. Ever since that fateful day on October 10th, the Zhu family’s fate would be tied to the successes and failures of what would eventually become the Kuomintang.

Yijun’s brothers, Qiang and Huang, were somewhat older than Yijun, being born respectively in 1908 and 1910. Tao was enthralled by the Kuomintang ever since he saw them openly defy the Qing Empire, and quickly registered for the Nationalist Party as soon as they formally organized. In 1917, the family moved from Wuchang to Guangzhou as the KMT clique was established in the city. It was once they finally settled down in their new home that Tao and his wife Jingyu, unexpectedly had a third child. Although it wasn’t their plan, they still loved her very dearly, and life went on with a slightly expanded family.

It was under the reality of a divided country that Yijun grew up under. Not even Guangzhou was spared from political violence: it experienced a brief civil war in Yijun’s infancy over whether or not Sun Yat-sen should continue to lead the party or not. However, it was, compared to the north, far more peaceful and prosperous, and perhaps one of the better areas to raise a child. Yijun got the best education a war-torn nation could provide, as Tao used his influence as a low-mid party member to pull as many strings as he could.

These formative years, from about 1920-1926, were the happiest of Yijun’s life. Sure, outside of her bubble, everyone was killing each other over the question of who should lead China. However, all she can remember playing with her friends at school, helping her mom with her chores, being read stories by her dad (whenever he was home), and even playing some games with her brothers when they weren’t too annoyed by her. It was a period of bliss that would soon be violently ripped from her.

In 1926, as a response to the growing instability of the warlords to the north, the KMT enacted what would be known as the Northern Expedition. Both Tao and the recently of-age Qiang both volunteered to join the army, as an officer and an enlistee, respectively. The march against the northern criminals might be long and arduous, but it would be the final struggle to unify China under enlightened, people-centered government. There would be no more war, no more dictators, but peace and prosperity.

The NRA never even reached Nanjing.

In their first major battle, the NRA forces were soundly defeated by the German-backed Zhili clique. Among the dead were both Tao and Qiang. Only a few months later, the Zhili themselves attacked Guangzhou. The entire city was torn into chaos as the streets ran red with blood in the urban fighting. Everything went by so quickly, that Yijun could barely process what was going on at first. Jingyu, Huang, and herself took whatever they could carry and headed for the docks. Rumor had it that there were boats to take the leadership to France. Although they were far too low ranked to be the intended recipients… it was their best chance to get out of the falling city.

At some point in their mad dash, an explosion rocked a building to their side, spewing debris onto the street. Yijun was gashed by splintering wood, but she survived. However, the shock knocked her out, and by the time she regained consciousness, she was already on a boat leaving shore, her mother tensly staring at the burning city, fighting back tears. Huang wasn’t with them, and her mother remained silent as the young girl asked where her brother was. All the little girl could do was join her mother, looking at the engulfing inferno that continued to consume the city

Yijun would later find out that Huang refused to evacuate, saying that his father and brother didn’t run from their duty, and neither should he. Plus, they’d have a better chance of pleading their way on a ship if it was just a single mother and her young child, rather than if he was there with them.  He promised to write back as soon as he could, to make sure they knew he survived the fall of the city.

He never wrote back. Yijun and her mother knew he would have crossed hell and highwater to get any form of contact with him had he lived: he’s gone as well.

Yijun and Jingyu both settled down in Paris with the other KMT exiles, both utterly broken from their experiences in Guangzhou. Jingyu arranged for her daughter to continue her studies in an école, but given that neither of them spoke French when they first arrived, simply readjusting to their new lives was going to be hard work. Jingyu was simply done with politics at this point in her life, and since that’s all the other exiles wanted to talk about, she was forced to try to reach out to native Parisians for any sort of friendship. Yijun on the other hand, grew to resent herself for not being able to do anything to help the situation. It didn’t matter that she was only 8 at the time; her entire family besides her mother died to protect her, the country, and the revolution, and beyond her survival, it was all for naught. As she started to approach her teenage years, Yijun felt the onus of responsibility to try to avenge them one day, when the opportunity arose itself.

Therefore, while Jingyu willingly embraced France, Yijun slid into isolation with the other exile’s children, finding them to be her only real friends in the Commune. Jingyu didn’t mind at first; it made sense that her daughter gravitated towards the children most similar to her, and it's not like they were really old enough to influence her. However, as she grew older, Jingyu attempted to push Yijun to accept their new life in Paris and try to make friends with her kids in school.  

However, Yijun continued to mostly hang out with the other exiles, who increasingly radicalized each other after sharing their stories of their families and their heroics in the name of the Nationalist Party to one another. During the height of the 1932 riots in the south, Yijun and her friends did an impromptu oath, similar to the legendary Peach Garden Oath, that they would one day return back to China “when the time was right”. This, of course, horrified Jingyu when she heard about it, but she also knew if she tried to intervene too harshly, her daughter would just meet with them behind her back.

Four years later, in 1936, Jingyu heard through one of the other exile’s wives that they were planning the “big one”. The tyranny in the Eight Provinces was reaching a breaking point, and it was only a matter of when before the remaining KMT cells in China would lead a new uprising, and they would return to their homeland. Jingyu was terrified; she knew her daughter would do anything to join the return trip. She didn’t want to see her only remaining child killed in some short-sighted quest of vengeance. Instead, she secretly enrolled her daughter into the International School of Geneva, to get her away from her friends and to keep her out of the next wave of bloodshed in China.

[petrichorate]

Little Fires Everywhere: Thoughts

Little Fires Everywhere (Celeste Ng)

I feel like Little Fires Everywhere is like a trap of sorts—it draws you in quickly, under the pretense of some light entertainment, and then hits you hard with moments of intense poignancy and frustration. I wanted to read more books by Asian American authors this year because I wanted to come to terms with my identity as a Chinese American. I needed to understand how I had been approaching that part of myself, and also to hear the stories of other people who had gone through the same thing—especially if those experiences were sometimes shameful, terrifying, or filled with guilt, as mine have often been. It wasn’t until college that I started being proud of my heritage; there are still moments when I unfortunately feel ashamed of that part of myself, or somehow feel lesser than those around me. But I’ve also started to appreciate the unique beauty of being Asian American—the amazing resilience and reflection I’ve received by being part of a culture that is complex, and contradictory, and somehow immensely messed up and exquisite at the same time. 

Little Fires Everywhere managed to pack so much about Asian American-ness, motherhood, and self identity into a seamless narrative. I remember messaging a friend at the beginning of the novel that “it was entertaining, but seems like just a light read. I kind of expected it to push more on Asian American issues.” But the more I read, the more I realized that there were lessons interwoven throughout the story that could only have been learned through intense, real experiences. I love how Ng describes the “sureness” possessed in children from wealthy and established families—a feeling I always got from my childhood friends who lived in houses with kitchen islands in nice neighborhoods, but that I never felt I held inside myself. I love how Ed Lim, the lawyer, reflects on the difficulty of finding books and dolls that his daughter can relate to—it’s something I noticed in all my picture books about kids with curly golden hair, and it’s something I am actively working on because I don’t want my future daughter or son growing up without characters who look like them. 

Here are some parts I thought were particularly memorable:

On stealing from people who don’t notice: “She had cried all the way to Lafayette, where they would stay for the next eight months, and even the prancing china palomino she had stolen from the girl’s collection gave her no comfort, for though she waited nervously, there was never any complaint about the loss, and what could be less satisfying than stealing from someone so endowed that they never even noticed what you’d taken?”

On the “sureness” or efficacy felt in people from established families: “Even the younger Richardsons had it, this sureness in themselves. Sunday mornings Pearl and Moody would be sitting in the kitchen when Trip drifted in from a run, lounging against the island to pour a glass of juice, tall and tan and lean in gym shorts, utterly at ease, his sudden grin throwing her into disarray. Lexie perched at the counter, inelegant in sweatpants and a tee, hair clipped in an untidy bun, picking sesame seeds off a bagel. They did not care if Pearl saw them this way. They were so artlessly beautiful, even right out of bed. Where did this ease come from? How could they be so at home, so sure of themselves, even in pajamas? When Lexie ordered from a menu, she never said, ‘Could I have...?’ She said, ‘I’ll have...’ confidently, as if she had only to say it to make it so. It unsettled Pearl and it fascinated her.”

On covering up naïveté with “bookish wisdom”: “She could see the similarities between these two lonely children, even more clearly than they could: the same sensitive personalities lurking inside both of them, the same bookish wisdom layered over a deep naïveté.”

On the ability of wealth to draw you away from the problems you want to solve: “Of course she understood why this was happening: they were fighting to right injustices. But part of her shuddered at the scenes on the television screen. Grainy scenes, but no less terrifying: grocery stores ablaze, smoke billowing from their rooftops, walls gnawed to studs by flame. The jagged edges of smashed windows like fangs in the night. Soldiers marching with rifles past drugstores and Laundromats. Jeeps blocking intersections under dead traffic lights. Did you have to burn down the old to make way for the new? The carpet at her feet was soft. The sofa beneath her was patterned with roses. Outside, a mourning dove cooed from the bird feeder and a Cadillac glided to a dignified stop at the corner. She wondered which was the real world. The following spring, when antiwar protests broke out, she did not get in her car and drive to join them. She wrote impassioned letters to the editor; she signed petitions to end the draft. She stitched a peace sign onto her knapsack. She wove flowers into her hair.”

On parents and touch: “Parents, she thought, learned to survive touching their children less and less. As a baby Pearl had clung to her; she’d worn Pearl in a sling because whenever she’d set her down, Pearl would cry. There’d scarcely been a moment in the day when they had not been pressed together. As she got older, Pearl would still cling to her mother’s leg, then her waist, then her hand, as if there were something in her mother she needed to absorb through the skin. Even when she had her own bed, she would often crawl into Mia’s in the middle of the night and burrow under the old patchwork quilt, and in the morning they would wake up tangled, Mia’s arm pinned beneath Pearl’s head, or Pearl’s legs thrown across Mia’s belly. Now, as a teenager, Pearl’s caresses had become rare—a peck on the cheek, a one-armed, half-hearted hug—and all the more precious because of that. It was the way of things, Mia thought to herself, but how hard it was. The occasional embrace, a head leaned for just a moment on your shoulder, when what you really wanted more than anything was to press them to you and hold them so tight you fused together and could never be taken apart. It was like training yourself to live on the smell of an apple alone, when what you really wanted was to devour it, to sink your teeth into it and consume it, seeds, core, and all.”

On regrets: “‘Most of the time, everyone deserves more than one chance. We all do things we regret now and then. You just have to carry them with you.’”

On the lack of good Asian representation in toys for kids: “But there was no doll with black hair, let alone a face that looked anything like Monique’s. Ed Lim had gone to four different toy stores searching for a Chinese doll; he would have bought it for his daughter, whatever the price, but no such thing existed.  He’d gone so far as to write to Mattel, asking them if there was a Chinese Barbie doll, and they’d replied that yes, they offered ‘Oriental Barbie’ and sent him a pamphlet. He had looked at that pamphlet for a long time, at the Barbie’s strange mishmash of a costume, all red and gold satin and like nothing he’d ever seen on a Chinese or Japanese or Korean woman, at her waist-length black hair and slanted eyes. I am from Hong Kong, the pamphlet ran. It is in the Orient, or Far East. Throughout the Orient, people shop at outdoor marketplaces where goods such as fish, vegetables, silk, and spices are openly displayed. The year before, he and his wife and Monique had gone on a trip to Hong Kong, which struck him, mostly, as a pincushion of gleaming skyscrapers. In a giant, glassed-in shopping mall, he’d bought a dove-gray cashmere sweater that he wore under his suit jacket on chilly days. Come visit the Orient. I know you will find it exotic and interesting. In the end, he’d thrown the pamphlet away. He’d heard, from friends with younger children, that the expensive doll line now had one Asian doll for sale—and a few black ones, too—but he’d never seen it. Monique was seventeen now, and had long outgrown dolls.”

On the frustration of people finally recognizing problems that you have always known about through real experience and not research studies: “‘What about other books, Mrs. McCullough? Any other books with Chinese characters?’ Mrs. McCullough bit her lip. ‘I haven’t really looked for them,’ she admitted. ‘I hadn’t thought about it.’ ‘I can save you some time,’ said Ed Lim. ‘There really aren’t very many. So May Ling has no dollars that look like her, and no books with pictures of people that look like her.’ Ed Lim paced a few more steps. Nearly two decades later, others would raise this question, would talk about books as mirrors and windows, and Ed Lim, tired by then, would find himself as frustrated as he was grateful. We’ve always known, he would think; what took you so long?”

On what Asians are “allowed” to be in society: “Men like him, the article would suggest, weren’t supposed to lose their cool—though it was never specified whether ‘like him’ meant lawyers or something else entirely. But the truth was—as Mr. Richardson recognized—that an angry Asian man didn’t fit the public’s expectations, and was therefore unnerving. Asian men could be socially inept and incompetent and ridiculous, like a Long Duk Dong, or at best unthreatening and slightly buffoonish, like a Jackie Chan. They were not allowed to be angry and articulate and powerful. And possibly right, Mr. Richardson thought uneasily.”

[burstingchrysanthemums]

The Daily Task of Preventing My Disciple from Turning to the Dark Side Chapter 1

At the Lofty Cloud Sect Mountain’s entrance, there are hundreds of young people waiting for the sect's trial.

A large spell array has been opened. The wind is like a mournful wolf's howl. In this gloomy weather people feel depressed. Looking up, the mountain road twists and turns, like a coiling snake

Lofty Cloud Sect is a famous righteous sect that opens its door every ten years. The youths on the scene are eager to try joining the sect. As long as they can pass the trial, they can be reborn and set foot on the path to immortality.

Around the square are more than a dozen green stone pillars. Each stone is said to have the power to exorcise evil spirits and has stood erect for several thousand years and the wind and rain have not left any traces of wear on them.

At that moment, a person floated down from the highest pillar.

That person looked around 20 years old, slender or even emaciated, the beautiful face seemed carefully carved and flawless. He is wearing a fine wide-sleeved white robe decorated with golden bamboo leaves at the edges. His long hair, crowned with gold and jade, is fluttering in the wind, giving him an ethereal and reserved air.

His appearance stuns the disciples responsible for the trial.

"Greetings to Shishu (Grand Uncle Teacher/Grand Martial Uncle)." A few young monks dressed in three generations of disciple costumes immediately bowed and trembled.

Lofty Cloud Sect has six palaces, twelve halls, thirty-six peaks, seventy-two caves, the remaining small places are numerous, but the six palaces, including the head of the Chongyang Palace, are the most important.

Mu Chen is the head of the fifth house -  Yanyang (Sunshine) Palace.

Though Mu Chen started (his training?) late, he ranked fifth. At 16 years old he built his Foundation, a once-in-a-hundred genius whom the disciples admire.

Unfortunately, Mu Chen's temper is cold, he is never in any place where many people appear, and does not like people. He has been a deeply mysterious existence.

So when that person suddenly appeared at the trial, how can others not be shocked?

Everyone has forgotten the trial now, all eyes are on Mu Chen but they only dare to stare at his clothes. No one dares to meet his eyes in case it brings them disaster.

Mu Chen does not care about the surrounding eyes, floating from one pillar to another, his steps natural and skilled, his manner still cold, looking down at the people with slightly narrowed phoenix eyes.

He's looking for someone. To be exact, he is looking for a child but he doesn't know how old the child is.

Looking at each child's face one by one, Mu Chen's eyes finally fell on a black-clothed child.Compared to other children who were mostly more than 10 years of age, this child is obviously a lot smaller, around five or six years old.

The child is very thin, with tender facial features that are quite handsome.

As if he sensed that someone was looking at him, the child opened his eyes to look into Mu Chen's exquisite peach eyes. The child's own eyes were dark as ink, deep and distant and under the left one is a bright and eye-catching tear-shaped red beauty mark (mole).

Mu Chen suddenly flew down to the side of the child, looking down at his face. Chen's indifferent eyes finally have a trace of complex and difficult to distinguish emotions.

"What is your name?" Like his temperament, his voice is cold. This sentence caught the attention of the dazed crowd and the restless children.

"Gu Yunjue." The child revealed a well-behaved smile, looking shyly at Mu Chen. In his eyes, Mu Chen is reflected and no other person can enter.

Mu Chen nodded and, to the amazement of everyone present, picked up Gu Yunjue in his arms, too lazy to say another word, and left.

"Grand Martial Uncle!" One of the disciples tried to stop Mu Chen. The child called Gu Yunjue is only six years old and he has not been tested.

Unfortunately for the disciple, the white sleeves flashed in front of the eyes, everyone smelled only an elegant medicine incense, and they had already disappear.

Hidden in the distant clouds, two old men looked at this scene.

One of them whispered: "That young one has just stepped into the Demigod stage. His fine tender skin looks delicious."

The cultivator's levels are divided into the following realms:

(TN: Literal names)

筑基 Qi Refining Period 金丹 Core Formation Period 元婴 Nascent Soul Period 化神 Demigod Period 合体 Synthesis Period 大乘 Mahayana/Path to Godhood Period 渡劫 Ascension Period

(TN: My suggested names)

Qi Condensation Stage Foundation Establishment Stage Core Formation Stage Nascent Soul Stage Demigod Stage Synthesis Stage Immortalization Stage Ascension Stage

The Qi Condensation Stage is divided into nine levels while the other periods are divided into early, medium, and late.

Mu Chen has been cultivating for only a hundred years. Even if the cultivation has advanced into the Demigod stage, in the eyes of other cultivators, he is indeed a little guy.

Another person sneered: "I advise you not to make trouble, if the master notices, he will make you into a blood slave or chop you up to feed the demonic beasts."

The former heard his words and trembled, no longer daring to say anything. The two people looked at the direction in which Mu Chen left.In the distance, a small hand flashed at them, and the two understood. They changed their direction and hid themselves.

-----

Holding Gu Yunjue, Mu Chen's posture was somewhat awkward. Before his rebirth he only had Gu Yunjue as his disciple and back then Gu Yunjue was a teenager. In short, he did not know the child's appearance. If not for the eye-catching beauty mark at the corner of Gu Yunjue's eyes, it would have taken a lot of effort to find him

In the previous life, Mu Chen had obtained the sect master's recommendation and accepted Gu Yunjue as a personal succeeding disciple. He didn't expect that 50 years later, the other party would take advantage of when he entered seclusion to mount a sneak attack in the forbidden area and shatter the Immortal and Demon Realms' Sealing Rock. The disturbance put the Immortal Realm's people in a terrible situation. He was originally a hard to come by genius cultivator of the Immortal Realm, but he had changed and become the Demon Realm's Demon Lord. Mu Chen himself was also dealt with by the Immortal Realm's people and sealed within the Soul Suppression Pagoda. He had originally believed that it was because he had been implicated by Gu Yunjue. He hadn't thought that it was actually all a conspiracy.

(TN: Gibberish) (而最后来救他的人, 竟是这个叛出师门的孽徒。) And the last man to save him was the sinner who was the traitor.

Unfortunately, Mu Chen had long been poisoned by fire, imprisoned in the Soul Suppression Pagoda his spiritual power was suppressed, and he became unstable. Gu Yunjue broke into the tower, to save him tried to transfer all of his power to Mu Chen but in the end Mu Chen suffered a good friend's sneak attack. (TN: Confusing, not sure of accuracy)

Eventually, he did not escape the fate of death.

Mu Chen reborn has been unable to understand, Gu Yunjue did not live long enough. Why did Gu Yunjue have to risk his life to save him? What was Gu Yunjue's fate after his death? Cultivation lost, Gu Yunjue fell into the hands of hypocrites, presumably his fate was miserable.

When Mu Chen was reborn, he suddenly had an idea, "If I keep Gu Yunjue at my side and carefully raise him with love, will not my words and deeds put an end to his temptation and reverse the fate of two people?"

Gu Yunjue broke into the soul tower, called him Shizun, and even used all his power to save him, until at last they both died.

Looking at Gu Yunjue, Mu Chen's mood is complex. The child is thin, wearing worn-out old clothes, the little boy's life seems to have been bitter so far.

The small body in his arms was stiff, clutching his hair, silent. Mu Chen thought that the child is too nervous but neither is he crying and or making trouble. Thinking this, Mu Chen clumsily patted Gu Yunjue's back, trying to make his tone comforting and not too stiff: "Do not be afraid, I am ... the Sect Master’s Martial Uncle."

Obviously this sentence is very convincing, because of the reaction of the disciples when Mu Chen appeared.

Gu Yunjue nodded his head like a well-behaved child, smiled, and gradually relaxed.

Mu Chen is a little relieved. If the child were to start crying, he really does not know how to coax him to stop.

Mu Chen, holding Gu Yunjue in his arms all the way to the door of the room where new disciples were registered said: "I want to accept you as my personal succeeding disciple."

He wanted to explain the difference between inner disciples and ordinary disciples but he did not expect that the child would suddenly held out his hand holding his face, and seriously ask: "Does becoming your disciple mean that first you take care of me, then when I grow up, I take care of you?"

Mu Chen hesitated for a long time then nodded his head, yes you can say so.

The master was responsible for raising his disciple using all his resources, in the best environment, with the most care in words and deeds, personally taking care to urge him to not follow a crooked path. When the disciple grew up he must respect the teacher, never disobedient, and "teacher for one day, father for ever."

Gu Yunjue smiled, satisfied. "Then we should make a vow, heaven will witness."

Mu Chen nodded his head, surprised. So even small children know that to immortal cultivators a heavenly vow has fatal constraints. Having agreed to it, is he was smart, or cunning?

Table of Contents                Next Chapter

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Translator’s Notes: This was translated using machine translation that I edited. I do not guarantee that it is accurate.

I would like to thank Snowtime of Snowycodex who let me use her translation as a reference. I published this chapter, then Snowtime published hers a few days later. Thanks a bunch! If you like BL Chinese novels then I recommend Snowycodex’s The Path of the Cannon Fodder’s Counterattack. It’s super good.

[rutabagarabitowitz]

First Lines

​This looked super fun, thanks for the tag @avenuepotter! Plus it helps me kinda revisit stuff I’ve been not working on.

Paste a short sentence/paragraph you think a potential reader may find intriguing from your last 20 stories and then tag 10 other authors. WIP’s are fair game (many people I saw included WIP’s) or Rules: Paste the 1st paragraph of your last 20 stories. Then tag ten of your favourite writers to complete the challenge, too.

8 WIP posts

1. From Head Over Feet: Chapter 38, Home Sweet Home (Put a Ring on it) WIP

Alex sat cross legged on her bed and scowled as she rubbed out her answer on the crossword puzzle in her lap with an eraser. Beside her Sonny was tapping at his phone with one hand and sipping coffee from the mug in the other. His long legs were sprawled out in front of him covered in blue sweats with New York Mets written down the right pant leg. Alex dropped the newspaper in frustration and stuck her pencil into her messy bun. She reached with a grabby hand towards Sonny's mug.

2. From Never Any More Heaven not Hell, chap 2: Just My Imagination WIP

Alex pushed her cart away with a very small wave his direction. She headed to checkout aware she only had half her list checked off. She was grateful for the empty lane and that she was able to pay fast. She took her few bags and Teddy and rushed outside not daring to look back over her shoulder. She could feel her heart racing and she felt like crying. The way he stared. What he said about being a show-off. What did that mean?

She walked home on autopilot, barely aware of her surroundings. She dumped the bags on the table and sat with Teddy on the couch, not bothering to unwrap her from the sling. It wasn't until Sonny came through the door, still in his shorts and gym shirt, that she realized she was just sitting there. 

3. From something I've been writing about Alex's bro Henry/something I've been working on as in a novel. 

An older man eyed him as he was coming in, seeing his fatigues he smiled proudly. Henry returned with his own uneven smile and shuffled off towards the handicap stall. He was glad for free Wild Turkey on the plane, but it was beginning to wear off. That or the clean Northern California air had already infested his psyche; the sobering reality of death hung around the atmosphere. 

4. From a WIP/something from Head Over Feet

Sonny shook off the familiar stirring in his chest at the sight of Alex's old doorway, "naw, I'm Sonny, Sonny Carisi, I live up stairs. I'm NYPD if, ya know, anything comes up."

5. WIP?? Something stupid I thought of today that's amusing???

"Dat guy has a lot of calcetines!"

Walt snorted. "He has a lot of socks?"

A blush appeared across sonny's cheeks. "No...ya know balls."

"Cajones," Alex corrected with the smile a mother gives her toddler, complete with head tilt. 

"You don't know Spanish!"

"I know the bad words," she smirked. 

6. More WIP from a novel I'm working. Same one as above. 

Rose spilled the contents of the box all over the floor near the side of the bed where Ted slept. She sat in the mess she made leaning up against the mattress. She reached her hand up to grasp his imaginary limb that he'd dangle over the edge. She could almost hear him snoring. He always slept for so long when he came home. She'd join him of course, relishing the warmth of his sun freckled skin and his smell of musky sweat. Alex would sneak into their room and want to sleep in their bed. If Alex got to Walt was sure to follow. Henry would hold out but he would eventually join his siblings as they all rejoiced in daddy finally being home. Those were the best times. When rose ceased to be a single parent. When she got to free herself from stay at home motherhood. 

7. From Head Over Feet WIP future chapter?

"Hey Alex!" The door slammed open and Malucci marched in without looking up. As he started to launch into a set of orders he looked up to see the tender scene before him. "Oh, whoa! Sorry. 5 more minutes?"

"Please," she sighed and made eye contact with Sonny again as he pulled away from her. 

"You got 3. Nice to see ya Carisi." He nodded and pointed his chin up at Sonny. 

"You too Dave," Sonny answered loudly as he left the room. Sonny smirked at Alex. "Dats the end of dat."

"Hold on," she gripped his jacket sleeve as he made to stand up. She pulled him back to her tipping her head back and connecting with his lips. She kissed him hard, one hand pressed tightly to his chest, she could feel the heavy Kevlar beneath the police windbreaker. He turned his head to capture more of her lips as he kissed back, his tongue darting out to slip between their lips. 

"Mmm," she sighed as she pulled back for air. Sonny grinned at her, a dazed expression overcoming his features. 

"Be careful, Sonny," she warned as he stood up. 

"I always am," he assured her. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

8. From some random Sonny/Al smut WIP

When Sonny closed the door behind him softly he could hear Alex's bed making noise. He laughed to himself knowing first hand how creaky her mattress was. He left his things on the chair and then he heard it: soft moaning sounds to accompany the creaky bed. He stopped. He heard it again and felt the blood pulse in his veins. He walked forward to the almost closed bedroom door.

12 other svu stories completed

9. from Head Over Feet ch. 38 Hey Jealousy

“It’s not icy!” She shoved him aside and directed him back to the passengers side.

He pouted over to the opposite side of the vehicle and climbed in after she unlocked the doors. Amanda smirked to herself secretly amused she’d gotten him riled up. He continued to look pouty as he buckled his seatbelt.

“So what do we do now?” he turned to her.

10. one-off story: Election Night

“IF THIS IS THE NEW WORLD I’M GOING IN DRUNK,” Walt shouted, waving his beer aloft.

Sonny had run off to buy more booze as the polls closed in California deciding it would be better if he kept his companions drunk and sated after Walt and Alex started picking at each other over allegiance to party or politics.

11. from Tricks N Treats

Amanda wore a witch hat on top of a sweater and jeans, nothing elaborate. Jesse however was decked out in her movie quality Sleeping Beauty costume. Her mother had allowed her to wear a tiny amount of lipstick and Jesse was busy kissing her hand and giggling at the mark it left.

12. from Snap Story

Sonny laughed as he sat up beside her on the edge of the mattress.

“Oh my– you put me on snapchat?” she yelled.

13. from Head over Feet ch. 6 Cinco de Mayo

He teetered a bit but quickly found his footing. He wrapped his arms around her waist and put his head on her shoulder. With his face so close to hers she could smell the liquor on his breath.

“Oh god, you smell like tequila.” She made a face.

“My friend, Sully, threw a Cinco de Mayo party-”

“It’s August.” She raised an eyebrow as she finally got the door open and pulled away from him to get inside.

He paused. “Well it was the theme! But there was tequila there!”

“And lots of it, I can see.” She said. “You sure it wasn’t tequila themed?”

“Okay, full disclosure, I had a few margaritas.” He gestured wildly.

14. from Head over Feet ch. 8 Chinese

He folded his jacket over his arm and slung his backpack over the opposite arm. Once he got outside he felt the difference of the cool interior and the full summer heat. The sun was still out and he realized he was going to sweat through his skin before he got home. He stopped to roll up his sleeves further.

“Lookin’ good, Detective!” a familiar voice cat-called.

15. from Head Over Feet ch.13 Some Space

It was barely after sun up, but Walt’s bladder had been trained to military time. He stretched his limbs as he got off the couch and headed for the bathroom which in Alex’s house was inside her bedroom. He knew Sonny had spent the night because he pretended he didn’t hear them giggle when he got there close to 1am. Walt also pretended not to hear bedsprings or any other sounds that confirmed his sister wasn’t an asexual being.

16. from Good with his Hands Walt/Barba side story

It had been awhile since Rafael had actually dated. He kept himself very busy, or rather the SVU did. There were occasional nights away from his hum drum but mostly he was married to his work. He also rarely frequented gay bars. They always attracted the wrong sort of man. But he felt like he needed an ego boost that night a few weeks back. Just one compliment, one "ay Papí!" And Raf would feel a little better about himself. Maybe if he was cute he'd have some fun but he wasn't betting on it. They were always 'cute and,' cute and slutty, cute and too young, cute and high. He was unsurprisingly picky about who he brought home.

17. from Head over Feet ch. 21 Family Stuff

Bella took a bite of her yogurt and slowly answered. “Well, he’s never invited anyone to Thanksgiving. He’s had girlfriends but…it’s never that serious. Not Thanksgiving serious. Then last week he told Ma there might be an extra table setting. It’s a big deal for my brother.”

18. from Head over Feet Ch.26 What are you Thankful For?

Sonny looked around the room at two entire families that he wasn’t sure about mixing, but it seemed to be going well. He still worried about Alex. She looked okay but he wanted to make sure she actually was. He just needed a minute away from everyone else, observing and analyzing their every move.

“Hey.” He turned to Alex. “My mom asked me to get the folding table like an hour ago, ya wanna help me?”

19. from Dinner and a Movie (Walt/Barba)

“This is so domestic.” Rafael called, but he didn’t smile less. It felt good. The nervousness he held about Walt’s relative youth to his own was waning but not gone. Maybe that nervousness is what fueled this.

He tried to focus on Luke Skywalker and his drama but he kept hearing the sizzle of the pan in the kitchen and Walt whistling the music. He wanted to go in there and take him away from the cooking and back to his lips. Maybe hold the boy tightly and pull on the hair that was getting longer the more time he spent away from wearing fatigues. Did Walt even wear fatigues? Rafael never ventured to ask what he did out in the field or how in the field he was. Was he just on a foreign base? Was he in combat? Had he been?

Rafael suddenly felt worried he’d never asked, as if there was a hurt he wasn’t attending to. He didn’t want Walt to think he just liked his body or his cute smile. Rafael liked a lot more of him than that but he wasn’t sure he should be revealing all that just yet. No need to rush.

20. inspired by “Unholiest Alliance” Sonny/Al: Faith

After Sonny changed into a pair of flannel pajamas and a hoodie he settled on the sofa with a beer. He picked up the photo he got from his mom and the wooden frame he bought at the sale for fifty cents. He carefully unscrewed the backing and placed the snapshot inside. Satisfied with his work he turned the picture over and smiled.

He heard Alex’s key in the lock and he looked up as she opened the door and came inside. Her eyes were downcast but she smiled when their gaze met.

“Hi babe.” She greeted. She dropped her bag on the chair as she made her way over to him on the couch.

anddddd now I have to tag people.... uh?

@knittingharlot @singinprincess @hawkland @imasecretstorywriter @justjaclin @ anyone else who writes? I can’t remember i’m so inactive. 

but it’s a lot of fun! thanks!