#perfect for how she Sees him and how he Sees her and the inherent intimacy of that !

[mswyrr]

He was unsurprisingly unbothered – perhaps even a little amused – and simply removed her right index finger to sew to his own hand as a replacement. While at the surface level this is a display of the brutality the Wasteland is capable of bringing out in people, in a series like this full of details, references, and allusions of what's to come, you can't help but look beneath the surface a bit here as to what this scene could symbolize. In doing exactly this, it's hard to ignore the inherent basis of a scene like this: The Ghoul and Lucy are changing one another – and while in this case it's a physical change, in media when is something this major ever so simple? Lucy may have had scars beneath her Vault Suit from her wedding night, but presented to others she looked pure and clean, mostly untainted by the horrors of the Wasteland due to the privilege of her upbringing. Now, however, there is an undoubted change, one that cannot be hidden in a finger that she gets from Snip Snip out of necessity, while Cooper attaches Lucy's finger to his own hand, affixing himself with something pure and clean, the result of a world that was once his own that he's grown so far beyond. Plus, Lucy spit out Cooper's finger. He could've cut off her finger to get even and reattach his own (though it wouldn't be a clean cut like the finger he takes), so the choice to have him take her finger feels like the perfect place for some deeper symbolism to slip into the script. And to take it a step further, the finger that is altered in this exchange is the right index finger – the trigger finger for both The Ghoul and Lucy. This means that in a way, Lucy will be with The Ghoul every time he pulls the trigger from then on, a physical representation for how we could potentially see her return some of the kindness to his actions in her efforts to re-instill the "golden rule" into him, a reminder of his own humanity. At the same time, Lucy's trigger finger will now serve as a reminder of the reality of the world, a cruel demonstration of the things she'll have to do to survive – and only a taste, at that. "I'm you, sweetie. You just give it a little time."

I love that mainstream outlets are noticing the wild, bizarre levels of mirroring and intimacy between these characters

[lakeofsilverpike]

I can’t stop thinking about writing a Liandrin fanfic. I don't want to. I have two Siuaraine work in progresses to get back to and a stack of prompts to get to. But Liandrin is infiltrating my brain, and I do not like it.

Consider: Liandrin, Moiraine, and Siuan at the White Tower together. Siuan arrives devastated by the loss of her family and her home. But she was raised by a father who loved who unconditionally, who accepted her completely, even though he was raised to fear women who can channel. But when he realized his daughter could, he understood what he needed to do, and he loved her, never made her think she was anything but the most perfect, special person in the world. And so Siuan arrives at the White Tower, devastated at her loss, missing her father, but understanding her worth, believing people are fundamentally good, seeking out healthy connection and love. Because she was raised in a loving, healthy home.

Moiraine is overwhelmingly grateful to have left Cairhien. Yes, her father was kind and loving. But he allowed her to be raised in the Sun Palace, allowed Laman to groom her as the Damodred heir. Moiraine was raised as much by her uncle as by her father. She is the heir after all. She must learn the cruelty that her family has prided itself on for generations. This is what Anvaere never understood. It was Moiraine who would be forced to rule, Moiraine who was expected to kill and start wars and torture. And so, Moiraine is unimaginably relieved when she realizes she has the spark and will escape, that she can leave Cairhien behind, that she can be good, that she can try to help the world, that she won't be forced to be cruel. Moiraine is quiet at first when she arrives to the White Tower, doesn't believe people are inherently good, certainly doesn't believe she is inherently good.

Liandrin thinks maybe she and Moiraine are kindred spirits. Liandrin, who arrived at the White Tower with her son in her arms. Liandrin, who knows without a doubt that people are cruel. That men especially are cruel. Liandrin who channeled for the first time when her husband went to strike their son, who channeled to protect her child. She'd fled then, her husband terrified of her as he never had been before, not any of the times she tried to run but he dragged her back and beat her. He had been stronger then. But now Liandrin has realized her strength, and she will use it to right the world.

The Sisters arrange for Liandrin's son to attend a boarding school in Tar Valon. She visits him often, but few at the White Tower know. Moiraine knows, Moiraine who had been Liandrin's friend once, who Liandrin had confided in. Moiraine, who decades later, will threaten Liandrin with this secret that was the greatest act of trust when she shared it with Moiraine.

Liandrin had thought she and Moiraine saw the world the same way, thought they both understood the cruelty, the way people will use you at the first chance they get. But then, Moiraine had fallen in love with Siuan. And slowly Moiraine changed, stopped seeing the world as dark, stopped seeing people as unable to be trusted. Moiraine learns that she can trust, that she can be loved, that there is safety in intimacy and openness and softness. Moiraine drifts away from Liandrin. The more Liandrin shares of her thoughts on the world, of her feelings about how all men, not just channeling ones, should be punished, the more Moiraine recoils, the more distance grows between them. Moiraine has begun to see the world as a kind place, a place filled with love and joy.

Moiraine and Siuan play pranks and giggle and walk through the White Tower with their arms wrapped around each other. By the time they are raised to Aes Sedai, Liandrin can hardly see the ruthless, distrustful woman who arrived from Cairhien. In her place there is a woman who embraces an openness and joy that Liandrin knows could never be hers. Liandrin's place is in the dark. She knows a truth about the world that she once thought Moiraint too knew. But Liandrin had been wrong.

The world is a dark place filled with people who will hurt you if you give them the chance. Liandrin will work tirelessly to bring down those who would hurt young girls as she had been hurt. Moiraine and Siuan merely laugh and kiss and put silverpike in the White Tower baths.

[cuddlytogas]

an incomplete list of terrible but extremely popular Our Flag Means Death takes that I would like to never see again please

(and I do mean popular, as in, lots of people seem to think they're canon, to the point where I feel slightly insane and like I was watching a different show to everyone else)

1. Ed's mum was loving and nice and supportive, if hampered by her bad situation

this comes up more in fic than analysis, to be fair, but good god, what show were some of you watching? this isn't to vilify her, because yeah, she's clearly a product of colonialism, white christian supremacy, and domestic abuse, but like. that doesn't make how she raised Ed good. clearly she was trying to keep him safe, but "we don't deserve nice things", and especially "it's not up to us, it's up to god", speaks to me of someone who squashes down any ambition on her son's part, has fully bought into the lies of christian colonialism, and tries to pass them down to her son.

as does happen in colonised communities, particularly among older generations. I know us white people like to think that every indigenous person is a perfect left-wing anti-imperial activist, but that's simply not the case, and Ed's mum is so clearly an example of an older conservative christian indigenous parent who had to believe the lies told by their coloniser in order to survive, but is now passing on that trauma to their children. and I just...

if I read one more fic where Ed's mum is a perfect loving supportive angel who always believed in her kid and always supported and protected him, I'm gonna scream. yes, it's sweet, and it's fun to sometimes veer from canon and give your blorbo nice things, but it's still veering from canon. and yet, I see very few people acknowledge that, or actually talk about the nuances of Ed's mother, and how she definitely tried to protect him, but was far from sweet, doting, and unconditionally supportive.

2. Ed's loving look when Stede is picking food from his beard in 1x07

like most of these things, I enjoyed it as a joke or exaggeration at first, until I realised that people were actually being serious. but every time I watch that scene, I see Ed looking absently-mindedly over Stede's shoulder, because a) that's what you do when someone leans in to pick something off you, and b) surely the point of the scene is that they're so comfortable and easy together that they don't notice the intimacy of what they're doing, but Lucius, an outside observer, thinks it's obvious. right?? I can't be the only one seeing it???

[sigh]

anyway. finally, the really really big one:

3. Ed is a soft uwu babygirl princess femme bottom sub who loves her cat collar and is teaching Stede how to dom him in the "say you're the captain" scene

I mean, there's not much to say except to link to duke's absolutely phenomenal twitter thread about "how the 'babygirlfication' and infantilization of ofmd ed teach is an extension of racist perceptions of indigenous men being inherently violent and thus needing to be emasculated to be considered sympathetic"

but especially That One Fucking Scene, good lord. talk about taking shit out of context. everyone looked at a slowed-down gif of one shot in the trailer and cried "babygirl!! he's such a simp, he just wants to be dommed!!", when actually that scene is about how a) Stede is cringefail and terrible at being a typical harsh, commanding pirate, and b) Ed is lovingly embarrassed by this. he encourages Stede to assert himself (and give Ed something to do during his probation/help him make amends with the crew), but like. normally. he's acting perfectly normal in that scene, and mostly annoyed by the outfit and embarrassed by how badly Stede fails. but just because he's sitting down while Stede is standing, and he happens to take a breath in that one shot (because, you know, people breathe sometimes), everyone's doubled down on their "submissive babygirl" bullshit, and I can't get the fuck away from it.

which - listen, it's fun for me, too! it's fun to explore exaggerated aspects of a character, it's fun to read/write/draw that angle in smut, I get it! but I keep seeing people keep claim it's literally canon, and I cannot stress enough that that is Straight Up False. for the love of god, please just watch the show without your (potentially kinda racist) bias glasses on, and remember to treat the characters with respect instead of projecting onto their every interaction a shallow dom/sub binary just because you find it hot.

Our Flag is a show very specifically about masculinity, and what it means to be a man; how assumptions about that can harm and restrict men; and how men can grow beyond them. it's a nuanced and sympathetic examination of this. the whole point is that Ed is allowed to like nice fabrics and be tired of violent piracy and still be a man. the point is that two men fall in love - equal, honest, sincere love - and are still men, still exactly who they are.

(on that note, insisting that Ed is canonically trans or femme because of these things often ends up just leaning into gendered stereotypes: men are harsh and active and dominant, and women are soft and passive and submissive, and if Ed's not the former, he must be the latter, right? it also tends to hetero-ify the central relationship, casting Stede as "the boy" and Ed as "the girl", needing one to be masc and one femme. not always, and again, I understand and have enjoyed transformative works that take those elements and run with them, and explore what the story could be like if Ed were trans/nb/etc - but it's still a transformative interpretation. it's not canon.)

relatedly: those fucking wedding toppers! it seemed blatantly obvious to me that half the point of those scenes was that Ed is distraught and blaming himself for Stede leaving because he wasn't the ideal partner. it's his entire arc for the first half of season 2! Ed hates himself and believes there's something wrong about him that makes him unlovable. so he keeps and then discards the wedding toppers, painting himself onto one of them, because he's projecting himself onto an image of ideal/successful romantic love that he thinks Stede wants, and in which he doesn't fit. he's trying to mould himself into someone else to make himself lovable, not realising that Stede already loves him for himself.

like, it's important that the groom figure isn't actually like Stede, either. yes, it's blond and has a nice, peach-coloured suit, but a) Stede was very specifically unhappy in the posh, heterosexual, married state the figures represent, and b) Stede by this point looks nothing like that figurine. it's directly contrasted with the image of him in the rowboat, scruffy and plain and earnestly in love, rather than fancy, cold ceramic.

so it's important to the whole narrative that Ed's yearning for/projection onto the wedding toppers is false, and born from his insecurity. he gets drunk, and play-acts a stereotypical image of romantic happiness into which he doesn't fit, but real love looks nothing like that, because real love isn't found in stifling hegemonic cultural structures, but honest, emotional connections between people allowed to be their whole, vulnerable selves. Stede is not like the groom, and Ed is not like the bride, because they shouldn't have to be. Ed should not (and does not) have to warp himself into a demure bride in order to be worthy of love: he's already lovable and loved exactly as he is! that's the point!! of the scene!!!!!!

but no, I have to wade through swathes of art and fic and meta about how badly Ed wants to be a sweet little demure kitty princess, how he wants a wedding night and a ring to prove he's Stede's property, and acting as if this is somehow canon, because people on the internet have zero reading comprehension and are scared of brown men.

the whole point of Our Flag is that you don't need to compress yourself into prescribed social roles, and in fact, doing so will only make you miserable; and that racist, patriarchal, colonial institutions should be resisted and dismantled at every opportunity.

so tell me again why the ultimate message is that Ed and Stede should get married under an arch in front of an altar and their lined-up friends, with flowers and rice falling around them, all dressed in white, one in a suit and one in a dress, with rings and a kiss and a honeymoon after, before they move into a detached house with a yard and a fence and re-adopt the kids that Stede abandoned? and this isn't about promises, fidelity, or even monogamy - I'm specifically talking about everyone in this fandom who seems to think that the ultimate goal is the most stereotypical 20th century cisheteropatriarchal christian wedding, but with the name "matelotage" slapped on top, as if that takes away all of the underlying baggage.

just - I know we're all meant to hate men and masculinity and yadda yadda yadda, but actually, to be earnest for a second, men deserve respect too, because all people and all genders do. and two men are allowed to be in a relationship and still both be men - complex men, with their own, layered relationships to their gender - without having to fall into neatly-arranged dom/sub masc/femme roles, or seal the deal with a hegemonically-approved ceremony.

so please, stop reducing an indigenous lead character to a caricature of a femme uwu princess bottom just because he has long hair, wore a robe once, and you're too scared of brown men to imagine him with proper agency. and then please, for the love of god, stop claiming that that interpretation is canon.

[winns-stuff]

I have a hot take people might hate. I dont inherently dislike seeing Apollo's "side of the story," but it needs to be in a better written story and/or just not this one. This could be a time to disect the privlage and dilution he has built for himself by showing fundamental flaws in his thinking like maybe Apollo using Zeus bad leadership as an excuse for his actions but taking this thought to an unnatural degree. Not for us to sympathize but see how he is twisted and what causes him to be this way like cracking open a curious egg. It can still be a bad egg, but I want to know how it's bad. But, I do agree it fell closer to sympathizing vs. Exploring. Personally the first time I read it I expected it to be a dive into twisted logic and that's how I read it. However, I 100% see what people mean about it falling too far into dismissive and sympathising. I think that kind of in depth storytelling is better for a different story that is not Lore Olympus targeted at children who might not read it as an analysis of evil. Maybe less "his side of the story 🤔" and more "a look into the thoughts of a delutional monster."

Yeah I agree, I don’t think a lot of tweens just looking for a cute romance story to latch onto would really think too much about the complexities of a rapist. It’s weird honestly, I can see what she’s trying to do but the SA is already pretty much crumbled in this story and I’d rather her just forget about it completely. Rachel bringing this up now has made it clear that the sexual assault was only ever used for drama, it’s clear that she ran out of good plot points (that actually made sense in the story) and she realized that fans still wanted Apollo to be dealt with since it was literally framed in a way that he was going to presumably face some consequence. So she had no choice but to put this flimsy and rushed sequence together, it’s quite sad honestly.

I only say this since she’s written Persephone out to be the perfect victim of her own SA. Everyone believed her right off the bat despite Apollo’s crystal clear image, her trauma doesn’t have any disturbing or even depressing sides to it that we know of (we only get small peeks into it), what happened to her doesn’t affect ANY of her male relationships and she’s framed as being more content and safe with them rather than any female character she’s ever interacted with, she’s still so incredibly sexually active and most of all ready for any sort of intimacy with her partner no matter what. The comic has literally been showing us that Persephone rarely cares about her trauma since she treats it like such an after thought and whenever she does remember it it’s played off as some kind of inside joke more than actual trauma.

The whole SA is disgusting and Rachel should’ve never put it in her damn story if she didn’t know how to actually handle it not only correctly but with any sort of respect at all. It’s deplorable how she’s still dragging it on just for shock value and whenever she’s run out of things to put in her story. SA or any sort of terrible crimes against another person is not to be used as drama or some kind of “spicy” romantic development in your story, it’s so incredibly disrespectful to real victims and yet Rachel continues to do it which is why I have no respect for her. There’s just some things you don’t do for money or engagement and this is one of the things.

[electricbluebutterflies]

Jess x Leto - a very odd wedding night

Actually-not-dead AU continuity, vaguely nsfw + vague descriptions of childbirth, also on ao3.

It’s over.

The woman opposite him is finally his wife.

Leto has waited so long to attach that word to her, the timing never right until-

He is unsure of this, but he understood her logic and now it is done.

The day has been guided by rituals not fully explained to him beyond what he must do and when, and being so powerless is still a new and uncomfortable feeling but such is the hand he has been dealt right now. It is enough that he is alive, that he is safe here with his wife and-

They are again alone in her spaces, will be left alone at least until daylight, and there are rituals for this part too. Important to honor the inherent sacrifice of a woman’s body, to focus completely on her, the marriage will be considered fully sealed when her voice breaks with pleasure and-

“We don’t have to do anything,” she murmurs. “We have already-“

“Do you not want me?”

“The current condition of my body is not-“

“It is expected that I take care of you. No more than that.”

She looks away for a heartbeat and he hears what is not said, how fragile she has become without him and every uncertain day he was not present for and-

“Be careful with me, beloved. Even more than you always are.”

He moves around her, taking her in. She has adapted well to their new surroundings and her new status, and the gold velvet of her outer robe looks so pretty against her skin, and-

“May I?”

“Do as you have been told,” she murmurs.

He would be opposed to such traditions too if they were not so…

He removes her headcovering, careful of the pins, and runs his fingers through her hair. He has come to love every part of her over the years they have had, and she’d once said she hated such touch but she allows it now and-

“I have never known you to be so patient.”

“I have not had opportunity to re-learn you since-“

He takes a kiss, then another one, deeper. She makes pretty sounds into his mouth as he takes her lower lip between his teeth, and this is what nearly twenty years has given them, this familiarity of how to take perfect care of her and undo her and-

She speaks of his patience, yes, but the want of her is too strong. The robe is easy enough to slip off her shoulders, and the dress beneath loose enough to maneuver, and then there is the sight of her and oh where to start. He has not had time to appreciate the changes of her body, a form he has never seen because last time she stopped letting him touch her the moment she told him she was not alone in her body and-

She will allow it now, he knows. There is such beauty to her like this, the manifestations of her decision to give him another child in impossible circumstances. He covers her swollen breasts with his hands and her lips silently part; he kisses their centers in turn and she makes a sound he did not know she was capable of and-

“We should have done this last time-“

“I was unsure of you,” she breathes.

“Your priorities never fail to surprise me, my storm.”

“Is it so strange that giving you a child was easier than loving you?”

That would certainly be one way to put it, he thinks, but-

“If we were not under such strange circumstances, I would wonder how this desire would change you.”

“You mean to ask if I would sacrifice my body a third time for you, my love?”

“I meant more if our intimacies will change, but-“

“See where we are in a year’s time and ask me then.”

He did not expect such reaction from her, but she is always several steps ahead of him, and who is he to change her desires, and-

His kisses drift lower, over her swollen abdomen. By the timing as he understands it, it will be a week or two more before the birth of their second child, and-

His wife, always so quiet by both nature and training, makes the prettiest sounds at this too. He suspects he could lie her down and kiss parts of her body that normally provoke no reaction and she’d drown in pleasure, and that would be a pleasant way to spend an afternoon sometime, and-

“Is this comfortable, if I am to kneel for you?”

“Would you help me lie down?”

He does, and it is so strange for her to ask for help but it is still an excuse to touch her, to help position her body on their bed, thighs parted and his pillow beneath her hips and-

Has he ever appreciated the softness of her enough? Her sacred parts presented to him and he kneels at the altar of her body, kisses her inner thighs until she hisses from the scratch of his beard, kisses her petals as he would her mouth and tastes her nectar, kisses her pleasure nerves and-

Something is wrong.

He feels her body tense but not as she does in delight, not-

He was not present the last time she was compromised, but he knows the theory of it. The womb has its own understanding of time, and hers has decided right now is the right moment to-

He moves his body to be close to hers, pulls her back against him and waits for the wave of pain to flow through her. All plans for the night have changed, nothing more important than-

“Stay,” she breathes. “Please. I know how far against my protocols it is but-“

“I would do so even if you did not ask.”

He knows how she is when she is frightened, how much she holds back, and-

“Will you still love me even after you have seen-“

“Even more, my storm.”

A week or two early, as he understands it, is not enough cause for concern in itself. He watches her breathing even out, and everything he thought would happen tonight is irrelevant, and-

“You can still fulfill the terms of our marriage,” she breathes.

“How so?”

“Touch me. That will still be safe.”

He is uncertain of this idea, but she has always been sure of herself, and if this is what she wants-

He shifts their position so she rests more solidly against him and slips his hand between her thighs. It is strange to touch her in a different state of undoing, but he rolls her pleasure nerves between his fingers, aware what pressure she likes and how to-

She falls apart faster than he expects, his name a whisper on her lips, and by the standards of this place she is now fully his wife, and-

“What else do you need from me, my storm?”

“If you can separate yourself from me… there is a basin near my things. That should be placed below my thighs. The rules are different for this… situation, but-“

An amount of water-waste understandable during childbirth, he interprets, but only so much. It is difficult to leave her even if only to cross the room, and-

“Anything else you need, while I-“

“Red glass jar and an undyed headscarf. Should all be-“

He gathers the items in his hands and wonders how she had planned to do this completely alone, if she had planned this, if she had-

“Would you have me go get help?”

“Not yet, my love. I am-“

Another wave takes her and it is difficult to watch but he forces himself to anyways. By technicalities, he has done this to her; it is only proper to be as present as he can and-

He returns to her, positions the basin as she had said, and-

“What do I do with these?”

“The scarf is to wrap our daughter in a few hours. The salve… would it be too much to ask you to touch me again? It will numb my inner walls and-“

“Is that safe?”

His wife gives him a knife-sharp look. “I am asking. Would you question me, in this state?”

He worries for her, more than he knew he could worry, but-

“Whatever you need. I would make this easier as I can.”

He has been a good enough lover, he thinks as he follows her instructions, and he knows the tension of her body is strange with the processes running through it, and in a matter of hours this will be over and-

“Is everything alright with her?” he asks, the sudden realization that it might not be and-

“You know my body almost as well as I do,” Jessica murmurs. “My limitations are what they are, and… our son came the same kind of early and there were no problems. I do not worry for our daughter’s entry into the world. She will do so into your hands, and-“

“I am unsure-“

“I would do so alone, but… you are here, my love, and you need this too. It will calm you to see that she has your eyes and that I am alright.”

“Do you know-“

“We will endure the night. I would ask… stay awake with me. Please. We will all-“

Another wave takes her, and he knows how stubborn she is and how much she loathes her own weakness, and-

He moves to kneel beside her. He will spend the night petting her hair and holding her hand, and it will be enough.

Time moves without sense, in the hours that follow. He knows how his wife holds back, how she hides her emotions from the rest of the world, and he watches her composure slip with every wave of pain. Their frequency suggests the end is drawing closer, and-

“The next wave will be the last,” she breathes. “If you could-“

He is unprepared for what comes next. His wife screams at a volume he did not know her to be capable of, and her body shifts all at once, and-

They have a daughter. They have a daughter, tiny and shrill in his hands, and another piece of his heart has been made flesh, and-

“Aftershocks, still,” his wife breathes. “Not over yet. Stay until-“

He complies, eyes focused on their daughter, so small and already so sharp and… why he ever thought his children would take after him, he doesn’t know, but-

The aftershocks pass, and he wraps their daughter and her remnants in the cloth and places the bundle into his wife’s arms. He can feel the tiredness of her, and yet still-

“The knife. I forgot-“

“Are you safe to-“

“If you could, I would not mind.”

More theory, more caution. The remnants will be… he does not know what will happen, there is probably some ritual for that, and-

He has a wife, fierce and brave. He has a daughter, born at sunrise, already easy to love. He has a son who takes the burdens of duty and vengeance from him.

Who could ever dream of more of a life?

[sonyapaxtonapologist]

Benedick & Beatrice, Much Ado About Nothing | Gregory House & Lisa Cuddy, House M.D. | on the thin line between love and hate (part 4/4)

[prophxtslash]

Henlo it is I, the bitch who requested the killer s/o with a tragic past a while ago- if requests are still open(I think they are), I was hoping to request a third one with Pyramid Head, Eddie(I know he's not from dbd but shhh), Huntress, and David?

everyone salute them right this instant, we've got a legend here fellas 🫡

Killer! S/O with a Tragic Past III

Pyramid Head | The Executioner

Pyramid Head is strange, off putting; something more akin to that of an animal than of a man. As such, many expect him to be almost dumb, blind to the wide spectrum of human emotion. How could he, one who carries out pain, carries out torture ever understand that another may ache?

And yet, who here would understand suffering more than him? This pain is familiar to Pyramid Head; one could say that he is intimate with it both in theory, and in practice. It’s a feeling he has come to know the entirety of his existence, both back at Silent Hill, and here in the Realms; and here, with you, this suffering encapsulating your very being. 

A long, pitiful groan reverberates from the inside of his helmet, a high pitch cascading upwards as you lean against him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. The skin is rough, torn, but it doesn’t matter - the warmth of it seeps into you. Silence surrounds the two of you, the hallways of Midwich Elementary School long empty, devoid of any real, authentic life. 

Eddie Gluskin | The Groom

Eddie is extravagant, flamboyant; whatever is inherently, deeply wrong with him, he covers up through presentation, through love. If he were to dwell on what actually happened, on what they did to him, why, he wouldn’t have any time to dote upon you!

Eddie doesn’t cope, doesn’t think about this pain; to him, it simply was a bad dream, a nightmare from some horrible, alternate reality. He dwells in fantasy, in that of a perfect home life, with the perfect ‘Leave it to Beaver’ family. The truth is far, far too ugly, too tragic to come to terms with. As such, upon learning of your upbringing, your suffering is hard for him to swallow; hard for him to understand. 

“Darling,” Eddie’s words are sugar, honeyed, his hands splayed across your back. “I can’t stand to see you in such agony. Tell me who I must deal with.” An involuntary shiver crawls up the length of your spine; it’s impossible for him to make, to fulfill this promise. And yet, a little fantasy never hurt anyone, right? You relay the names dutifully, a wide, cruel smile splitting the Groom’s lips. 

Anna | The Huntress

Anna, at her very core, is a protector, a trait she had inherited from her own mother, who, in turn, inherited from her mother, and so on. An animalistic, primal instinct to care for her own runs deep within the Huntress; if you were to suffer, surely so would she. 

This almost telepathic empathy extends to both physical as well as mental pain; broken bones, nightmares, cracked skulls, memories - Anna knows and feels it all. No matter how small, no matter how unimportant, she will know it, and will always, always leap to protect you, come what may.

A deep set shudder courses along your body, your eyes fluttering shut as you fold into yourself, the painful pop! and flashes of a memory exploding behind your eyelids, the scene unavoidable, and all too familiar. And yet, something warm, something strong surrounds you, a solid surface curling over you, pressing against your back. The memory continues, but Anna shields you from the outside world, and should you will it, from the Entity itself. 

David King

Pain is something David is more than familiar with; whether it be the sting of a cut lip, the ugly swelling of a broken nose, or even the fractured shards of memories within his mind, David goes to bed with suffering, with ache more often than not. 

Although, despite this intimacy, David is detached, unavailable in terms of emotions, of feelings. He doesn’t like to deal with it, doesn’t like to dwell upon it; would rather shove it down, down so deep that such weakness could never hope to show its face ‘round him ever again. But that’s for him; as for you, it’s still rough, awkward almost, but he tries.

David clenches his jaw as he sways above you, your head hung and fingers gripping tight against your scalp. Nothing is said; the silence is stubbornness on everyone’s part - you, not wanting to show weakness, and him, not knowing what to do. It persists a few moments longer before David slides down next to you, his hand hesitating above your shoulder before it finally falls, a tight squeeze to the skin there. Despite the lack of words, despite the awkwardness, it’s enough that he’s there.

[shanastoryteller]

on one hand i’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while, and on the other hand i’ve been avoiding it for the massive potential it has to go from us having a conversation to devolving into the most annoying discourse possible

but i got another comment that just broke the camel’s back so i’m going to talk about it anyway

a lot of things i see people are saying are “wrong” in untamed fanfic are actually just translation preferences and just because someone chooses to translate something differently than you doesn’t make it wrong 

first, before we get into what i’m talking about, we have to talk about what translations are and the motivation behind them

translations are taking something from one language and making it understandable and consumable in a different language 

this can be as big as the differences between chinese and english or as small as the differences between british english and american english, which are considered different enough that books published in both places will have words and phrases translated to make them more digestible to the population it’s being marketed towards 

there are few different ways someone can translate something

there’s a direct translation, which is just finding the closest applicable word and plopping it in there like a smarter google translate 

there’s translating to preserve the intention and cultural significance behind a word/phrase as closely as can be replicated in the foreign language

there’s translating to convey the vibe/feeling as closely as can be replicated in the foreign language

there’s not translating at all, which doesn’t technically count, by definition, but is brought up often enough that we’ll talk about it

there’s an infinite number of ways this applies, but for simplicity’s sake, and because it’s the one people keep bringing up to me, we’re going to go with jiujiu / maternal uncle 

because i don’t speak chinese, my first job is to gain some level of understanding about what this word really means in the original language and the way it’s used. only once you understand that can you make a semi-educated choice on how to translate something (since most of us aren’t fluent in the language or culture, semi educated is about as good as it gets, but for smaller words like these i think it’s easy enough to get most of the needed context). so we need to start off with: maternal uncle, respectful, people don’t use names to differentiate between uncles like we do in english, using first names and/or birth names is either intimate or disrespectful depending on circumstance 

now, the simplest way to translate this is just as uncle. in english, referring to someone just as uncle is a little unusual, but common enough that this works as a good translation all around. if one wants to translate the maternal aspect of it, then “uncle lastname” works pretty well. the issue with that is that naming convention only ever happens in english maybe with grand uncles or “uncles” that fall more under shushu than jiujiu, so if i was translating it then that’s something i would avoid, because i wouldn’t want the readers to think that the characters have a less close relationship because o this, but it’s something that’s easy enough to do without distorting the original meaning so i think it also works 

if the character only has one uncle 

but we are, specifically, talking about jin ling here 

so if he’s talking about both jiang cheng and wei wuxian in the same scene, and referring to them both as uncle, how do we differentiate them? 

uncle wei and uncle jiang work here, because they’re both maternal uncles but they have different last names, which is really just us getting lucky in this situation. but it presents the problem we have earlier. 

to an english ear, that creates distance between jin ling and jc/wwx. if i want to show them as being close to an english speaking audience, that’s not a translation i personally want to use 

the most obvious solution is to then have jin ling refer to them way most english speaking people would refer to their uncles (that’s not just straight up having him call them by the their names, which is what i actually think is most common. i only refer to my uncle as uncle when i’m talking ABOUT him to someone else) which is “uncle first name”

however first names also present a problem in untamed because of courtesy names and because courtesy names are used ahistorically and inconsistently in canon 

wei wuxian uses jiang cheng’s birth name but jc doesn’t use wwx’s. wwx is basically the same age and lower in rank than jc, so it would make sense for jc to call him wei ying in turn, but he just ... doesn’t. same for jiang yanli. she’s arguably the one wwx is closest to and has the most positive relationship with through out the show and she’s older than him. it would make a lot of sense for her to call him wei ying, or even a-ying to mirror the way she calls jc a-cheng rather than calling wwx a-xian. lan xichen calls lan wangji by his courtesy name rather than birth name, and i’m pretty sure lan qiren does the same to both his nephews, which doesn’t really make sense to me in world

i think the real purpose here was to give wwx and lwj names that they only call each other for special intimacy reasons rather than to create a consistent more in the untamed universe

however, going with that and jin ling obviously being so much younger and wanting to retain at least some of the respectfulness that would be inherent in the original language, i do think that uncle wuxian and uncle wanyin are good translations 

u n l e s s 

see the thing is that jin ling refers to wwx as “wei ying” before he knows him as a way to be disrespectful to him because he believes that he killed his parents. i personally like the symmetry in him shifting to calling him that in a positive manner to make up for him calling him that in a negative manner, which isn’t something that can really work in chinese, but can work in english 

as for jiang cheng, probably because the story is told from wwx’s pov even in the show, we’re used to seeing his birth name rather than his courtesy name, and honestly no one uses his courtesy name unless he’s being a bitch. because of this, the use of wanyin creates a cognitive sense of distance that the often used wuxian just doesn’t. so if someone uses his birth name for that reason, i think that makes sense too. so i think uncle ying and uncle cheng can also work 

there is, of course, just using jiujiu and trusting context to take care of the rest, but that’s less a translation choice than it is just choosing not to translate 

i’ve done different things in different works with different contexts. in rotten work specifically, i had jin ling refer to jc as just “uncle” because i imagine that’s what he’s been doing for 16 years with no other maternal uncle, and because he’s the uncle he’s closest too among all of them, and i wanted to reflect that. i have jl refer to wwx as “uncle ying” a little bit because of the reasons above, but also a way to stake a claim on him to everyone and to demonstrate that they have a close relationship before the really have one as a way to partially shield wwx and to goad those around him (plus a bonus plot reason that doesn’t get revealed until the final chapter)

my point here is that there’s a lot reasons why someone could choose to translate something one way versus another. i used this one thing as an example, but this same thought process applies to lots of things 

you do not have to agree with everyone’s translation choices, or like them, or think them appropriate. but translation is by its very nature imperfect and there’s a lot of different potential reasoning behind people’s choices and i really don’t think there’s one perfect way to translate something and that all other ways are wrong 

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body. 

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.  

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can. 

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso. 

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again. 

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position  

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window. 

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit. 

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for. 

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock. 

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful. 

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain. 

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it? 

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can. 

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity. 

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge. 

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use. 

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore. 

K = Kinks 

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity. 

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold. 

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence. 

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench. 

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail. 

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping. 

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest. 

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”) 

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.   

[ecrivant]

on intimacy pt. 2 | levi ackerman

(levi ackerman x reader)

a collection of touches shared between you and levi.  read pt. 1 here

word count: 1.3k

You laid in your bed, haunted by ruminative wakefulness.  Stomach flipping between pleasant warmth and anxious throbbing, made worse by the fear of what you may dream.  A disquieted mentality which only fed into physiological anxiety.  A weight on your lungs.  You took deep breaths, trying to reclaim some semblance of control, too focused on your own respiration to notice Mikasa rousing and padding over to your bed in the dark.  She softly called out to you, kneeling beside your bed.  Her hair fell over her face, shrouding her eyes.  A palm came to rest on your face, and came too a familiar bloom of warmth emanating through you.  Still, panic rose.  You seized. She began to exaggerate the movement of her chest, pushing it up and letting it fall as she breathed slowly, silently encouraging you to mimic her.  You followed her gentle inhalations and exhalations.  When she noted your breathing had steadied, she nodded, asking if you needed more; you nodded back to reassure her you didn’t.  Her soft footfalls against the ground as she walked back to her bed, rhythmic and palpable.

Your dreams were pitch, but contorted cries, aural perversions of your friends’ voices, filled your ears within the darkness—image only manifested once you were submerged in the feeling of falling.  Your bottom half hung from a gaping mouth, and sinew and cochineal viscera poured out of your stomach as you fell headfirst to the earth.  Fulminations of gore erupted around you.  The maimed bodies of your friends suspended in the air, blood viscous, expressions malformed.  You woke as your spine shattered against the ground.  

—

Embarrassing, maybe, that you found yourself outside of Levi’s office.  You contemplated abandoning whatever subconscious agenda you sought to fulfill, but you could only watch as your hand rapped at the door on its own volition.  A three-count, and the door opened.  Close to immediate.  You indulged the idea that he had expected you to come, maybe even hoped for it.  Stepping back, widening the opening, he wordlessly ushered you in.  You were struck by a futile hope that your trembling legs went unnoticed.  Speaking in hushed tones:

“Would you like the bed?”

You considered refusing, either out of politeness or self-consciousness, but you understood Levi’s equivocation—a question implied a suggestion implied an order—and nodded.

His bed, centrally placed in the small bedroom adjacent to his office, was made immaculately—sheets crisp, corners folded, pillows fluffed.  More than picture-perfect.  You were reluctant to sit but acquiesced under his expectant gaze.  Eyes exploring the room, you noted everything was in its place; and then you asked yourself how you would know what ‘in-place’ was.  You had never even considered the room’s existence before this very moment.  You thought on the inherent vulnerability of the bedroom—it was not more than a person in objectified microcosm.  You were suddenly self-conscious, aware of your invasion.  You could sense Levi in every aspect of the room.  It was a sort of omnipresence which, admittedly, disquieted you.  A strange form of pervasive and ubiquitous comfort.  

He stared at you through the doorframe, arms hanging by his sides.  Neither turned away when you confronted his gaze.  You searched his face and found him unreadable.  His form tenebrous against the dark backdrop of his office; in the shadows, he showed his age.  You were reminded that while you watched him, he watched back.  Again, you were self-conscious; aware of his scrutinizing gaze, of the space you occupied.  A habitual comfortable silence this was not—the air felt suspended, heavy with potentiality, about to drop.  Or perhaps it was already in freefall.  

He was crossing the room, his steps reverberating through you.  Atmosphere vibrating.  The bed dipped as he sat beside you.  Who else had shared this experience, seated next to Levi in his bedroom?  You wished yourself to be the first, a pioneer.  Something about it gave you a headrush—was it the intimacy of something shared by only two, or the excitement of exclusivity?  You decided it didn’t matter.

He still sat before you, deciding what to do, calculative. You forced yourself not to move.  You wanted him to initiate.  

When he finally did, you had settled so far into the stillness that his movement startled you.

His hands dragged over yours, slowly, achingly so, lingering on your digits, your wrists.  Slipping under, his fingertips found your palms, tracing along the creases, pressing into the pads.  The spaces between fingers, the dips in your knuckles.  He found it all, left no place untouched.  Nimble fingers pushed up your sleeves, cool air raising goosebumps.  A touch, barely perceptible, ghosted over your arms, grazing hair more than the skin, tingling trails left in its wake.  Your eyes flitted up from his hands; his face was firm, his brow furrowed in concentration, gaze focused on his own movement.  

You wanted more.  You found your skin to be shell-like, an epidermal barrier, and wished to shed it.  To rid yourself of that cursed, fleshly mediator, and to feel his touch directly.  Not on your skin, on you.  No longer a timid interest, but a primordial need to feel a connection between two innate unknowns—a need to be touched, held, until you were nothing but one nebulous silhouette.  

You sat, absorbing his touch, emitting waves of feverish air.  Reluctant to breath.  One hand intertwined with yours.  The other continued on, trailing over your features.  Fingertips on your ear.  Your cheek. The ridge of your bottom lip.  Your cupid’s bow.  The bridge of the nose.  Browbone. His touch, a fomentation of something long smoldering within you.  A corporeal glow, burning, blistering.  

Levi stopped.  He met your gaze.  His eyes said, “Now you.”

You reenacted his motions in tender emulation.  His eyes on you as hands shakily grazed his skin.  Barely-there tremors under your fingers—insuppressible reaction.  His hands, arms, still and there for you to feel.  His sharp features softened under your touch. Eyes, attentive, never drifting away, lucid and drinking in your movement.  You savored each other.  

Levi was the first who dared to speak: “I would like to kiss you, now.”

You reveled in the quiver of his voice.  Nervousness. So open, so clearly stated. 

You liked the way he felt against you—his lips were warm and satin-like.  Exploratory, sentient.  They modulated slowly, subtle movements fading into one another, an amalgam of quiet, labial gesture.  Your hands came to rest on his wrists, and he gasped at the contact.  Everything hyperaware, hypersensitive.  You swore you could feel his heartbeat in your chest. You liked the shared, languid sensuality—quietly seductive but imbued with innocence.  Levi loosed his hands from yours and moved them to your face, cradling it.  You could feel the rough callouses against your cheek—the hands of a soldier.  You gripped at the sheets.  Cloth massaged between your fingers.  You liked the way he pulled away from the kiss, and his breath blew, hot, against your lips.  You had never seen him winded before.  

“You feel nice, Captain.” Head light and floating high above the room, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed by the way you slurred your words.

He shared the bed with you that night.  Face to face, his hands roaming your sides, indolent.  Silently awake, resting in the other’s company.

As a child, awake at night, lost in that pervasive nocturne, you would dream of a feeling: an ineffable intimacy, something you dully craved but never found.  Had you loved this moment since you were a child?  This untroubled moment, secluded from the collection of cruel and terrible moments that defined and would come to define the remainder of your life.  You memorized it, writing it in fleeting senses and images.  

One more indulgence. You wrapped your arms around Levi, holding him close, tight, and breathed in his scent, reminded of your minority: you saw your childhood home, the kitchen window.  The quiet warmth.  A memory enveloped in closeness.

—

hey!  i hope you enjoyed this two-parter!  thank you for reading, it’s always appreciated!  also, throw a lil feedback my way if ya feel like it!  more writings coming soon (?)  i’ve been shockingly prolific in the past few days, let’s see how long it lasts.  i’m feeling... a mr. jean kirstein piece coming soon.

below are the beginnings of a taglist, so if you’re interested, drop a line and i’ll tag you in my writing posts!  xoxo

taglist: @flam3bird​

[constellaj]

I do adore your gay Lucky in Love rewrite. But I do wonder how you do a rewrite within the actual episode. Such as Dash's POV of the water park shenanigans (I'm convinced that that the water guns are filled with soda, to get the sprayie sticky) and Dash's POV of the "We're dating now!" hallway moment (maybe Kawn can ask Dash if he's okay) and begrudgingly acknowledging that "Paulina" likes Danny (the look on Dash's face and the "jerk, I mean pal")

I would say that the thing that ought to be redone in Lucky in Love is the characters motivations, for nearly all of them at points in the episode.

I do not buy that Johnny would have wondering eyes when he so devoted to Kitty, and the whole "to make the ex jealous" is a lame trope and Kitty was way to affectionate to Danny for that. I would buy that moving from the ghost zone to the real world is stressful adjustment (hiding from the Fenton ghost hunters and such) could inspire fights and they break-up. And Kitty tries to be on her own for awhile but doesn't know how to handle that, and gets re-bound feelings for the only other eligible ghost-boy around (which Shadow catches wind of which makes him furious and he tries to kill Danny before Kitty make "horrible mistake"). Kitty should have purposefully picked Paulina to possess because she's a high-profile girl who Danny is already crushing on and mean enough to "not deserve" to be in control. And when Danny finds out the truth, I think Kitty could have added the threat of physically hurting if he didn't comply (such as I like Kitty, she has zero qualms about completely taking over others girls lives and expending them, which is scary).

The A-list being a literal exclusive club with limited members is too dumb to be silly. But friend groups splintering and shifting due to one or more friends changing, or when newly-dating teens unintentionally neglect their friendships, is something I do buy. Dash could be so livid about his best-female-friend suddenly and inexplicably dating his crush that he becomes unbearable to be around even for Kwan, who might want to try to make new friends, and give Sam and Tucker a try.

As for Danny, when he found out that Paulina was being possessed by a girl ghost the whole time, it seemed that his initial concern was getting Paulina back in control of her own body, which is the correct response. But then it shifted to him feeling "suffocated" by Kitty. His discomfort should have stayed on the fact that Paulina was being dated against her will, which should make Danny feel sick with guilt.

This turned out longer than expected. You can pick and choose what to respond to if at all.

----

(tl;dr for anyone who doesn’t know my lucky-in-love-but-gay rewrite:

Johnny and Kitty are taking a couples’ break, and Shadow, who feeds on romance, is whining like a spoiled dog about it. Shadow goes to find another hopeless romantic to possess to eat up love, and encounters Dash watching the romance channel. Dash gets more and more flirtatious, ghostly, and adopts a biker aesthetic as Shadow pulls at his emotions; not fully possessing him, but amplifying his feelings. Shenanigans ensue when Dash can’t decide if he has a bigger crush on Phantom or Fenton. Danny has to find a way to get Shadow out of Dash before Dash becomes reliant on him. Kitty needs to get Shadow back because, if Johnny doesn’t have Shadow, he becomes much more vulnerable.

biker dash art / full ep post)

this is all super fucking inch resting and im publishing this so the rest of the world can see but like generally speaking i think lucky in love is a shit fucking episode all around and it really can’t be saved. johnny and kittys dynamic is so petty and so inherently “Haha i hate my wife right boomers” that I cannot accept it as a way anyone would actually act and for that I don’t think the episode could ever really be “good.” I like to think of johnny and kitty as hapless mushy lovebirds. their only ‘couple fights’ are saying things like

{ID: a discord script I had with @crystalfloe​. it reads: Johnny: Well what do you want me to DO? You know you’re at fault too here- what about all those road trips huh, constant road trips with you snuggling me from behind?

Kitty, scowling: You gave me a BLACK ROSE on my birthday, you KNOW that’s my favorite color!

Johnny: Yeah, you got me the EXACT part I was wanting for my bike even though I only said the name once! You just REMEMBERED!

Danny: Woah hey let’s not fight here.... does this count as fighting?

Kitty: YOU spent the entire day I was sick making me food even though you had a BOYS NIGHT planned!

Johnny: YOU’RE just a BEAUTIFUL LOVING PERFECT PERSON! And now Shadow’s a glutton for ROMANCE!

Kitty: Well maybe if YOU weren’t so SELF SACRIFICIAL and full of UNBRIDLED CARE AND INTIMACY he WOULDN’T BE!

Johnny: How DARE you say I’m the more loving one and therefore the PROBLEM-

Kitty: I’m really starting to hate you and your CUTE FACE, Johnny!

Johnny: Yeah- well, I’m starting to get real sick of your adorable EYES, Kitty!

End ID.}

If you want to rewrite Lucky in Love, to me, you have two options: absolutely decimate canon, or work within it. Decimating canon (ie, making Dash gay) comes with also deconstructing Johnny and Kitty’s toxic relationship into something actually worth rooting for, which in turn unravels the entire episode because the premise is... it’s a bad relationship. If you want to work within canon, the episode as is is pretty much the best you can get, because no way in hell would they let Dash be gay in canon.

While your takes are interesting, it’s not the kind of media I personally would like; the whole “Kitty could have added the threat of physically hurting if he didn't comply“ doesn’t sit well with me at all, so I can’t say it’s something I would ever engage with, personally.

Also, I don’t need canon to be 100% serious all the time, personally I love the bit about the A-Listers having a formal club with like, paperwork and stuff, it’s genuinely funny and also provides a nice clean-cut metaphor for how Danny as an “unpopular” kid might view the way the popular kids work. I don’t think the writers thought that was actually how popular kids work, I think they were playing with it and expanding on how a kid might see it.

You’re right that the focus of the episode should have been on Paulina’s bodily autonomy, which I think the OG was lacking in even as is because we didn’t get anything from Paulina’s POV; she’s treated more as a prop than a person, which, yikes.

But in summary, while this is interesting, none of it is how I would rewrite lucky in love if given the chance; if canon-divergent, I’d probably tweak the biker dash concept; if canon-compliant, I’d try to make it more of a jokey episode, maybe making the conflict between Kitty and Johnny a “I have to get him a secret birthday present without him knowing” instead of a “I am going to make him jealous by cheating on him.”

[zalrb]

i have to ask lol on which team are you on in true beauty?

Honestly, when I was watching it, I was on neither team or both teams because I really did like the two of them equally, but if asked questions about it like this, I will probably come out on the side of Suho just because I feel like people willfully take his character and his relationship to Ju-kyung out of context.

Like, I don’t blame anyone who prefers Seo-jun or Seo-jun/Ju-kyung because it’s not like I don’t get it. Without any context and just the clips I watched on youtube, at first I was like I’m going to get a strong case of second lead syndrome I can feel it. Then I watched the drama.

On its face, I can see why Seo-jun against Suho is going to be more interesting. The two of them deal with embarrassment, trauma and just general emotion differently; Suho shields himself by being cold, aloof, indifferent and unapproachable,

he represses but he is actually in a lot of pain

while Seo-jun doesn’t necessarily freely admit his pain but he’s freer with his emotions than Suho. Still, he creates this persona of being blase and unbothered and a rebel but he is actually really soft and sweet and goofy

Take for instance, their home lives, Seo-jun is clearly protective and loving of his little sister and he’s a great son to his mother

but he won’t let anyone know that --- obviously they have their fair share of challenges with his mother’s illness  but they’re a loving, close family. Just like how he has a group of lovable and loyal friends

Suho, on the other hand, doesn’t have a family life or a sense of intimacy and closeness with his father and we don’t actually see him with any friends, he rebuffs anyone else’s efforts to get close to him, which makes sense when he feels a guilt that is compounded by Seo-jun’s insistence that he is in fact to blame for the suicide

Like people seem to conveniently forget that the reason Suho brushed Ju-kyung off in the first place is because Seo-jun called him a murderer and effectively said she’d be disgusted with him if he knew he killed friends.

So, the way they relate to Ju-kyung is different, neither of them really know how to articulate how they feel for her

but their affection manifests itself in ways that come down to preference

rather than which one is better

and that’s where the tags lose me.

Because certainly, Seo-jun and Ju-kyung have really sweet moments, I loved this moment

but I don’t think that’s inherently better than Suho keeping her secret and then ensuring that she had time in the bathroom for herself to wipe the cake off her face

so Seo-jun and Suho bicker and they’re quirky and they communicate through teasing, I totally get that, I totally love dynamics like that and I do really like this one

on the other hand, Suho and Ju-kyung, their relationship is rooted in seeing the other at one of their most vulnerable moments from the jump (no pun intended)

and then slowly peeling away different layers to access different aspects of their vulnerabilities

and embracing their insecurities

while at the same time, having some great banter-y moments themselves. Their comic store moments are some of my favourites

and the way they tease each other about studying and athletic ability, it’s cute.

And I see these posts about how he feels entitled to her feelings and I don’t think that’s what it is, I think that it’s after finding someone that he connects to on this level, someone he can cry with, someone where he can understand the pain she attempts to repress, someone he can talk comic books with, someone who can get him to try new things, he’s protective of that and that isn’t to say that the way he reacts to Seo-jun is attractive or even justifiable but I do find it understandable the same way I think it’s unfair for Seo-jun to call Suho a murderer but I understand from his perspective and his pain and his anger how he got there.

So, really I’m on both teams and am like, an OT3 would be perfect but I’ll defend Suho before Seo-jun because I think Suho is unfairly demonized and I’d say about 85% of the tag is already dedicated to Seo-jun and Seo-jun/Jun-kyung.

s/o to @loveyazy for some of the gifs.

[electricbluebutterflies]

28 for the (new?) christmas prompts <3

Look y'all I wrote fluffy late-era Jessica/Leto that spiraled into some slight, uh, negotiations about intimacies. No I have NO idea why these babes do what they do in my fic, I love them. PG-ish and very late queued crosspost // also on ao3.

watching snowflakes on the window pane

It’s quiet now.

She gets reflective this time of year as winter descends – a normal human instinct, she knows, one that could happen anywhere, but it’s a more noticeable tendency against the background of the cold season on a water planet. It is quiet now, the world she knows slowed down as the world outside gives no choice, and she becomes a different quiet too.

There is a pile of paperwork on her desk – there is always a pile of paperwork, and the difference right now is that she’s supposed to have most of the current pile – but she can ignore it for a few minutes. The view from her window is too distracting, the first snowflakes falling around the outside world, she can see so much from here and-

This is why she understands beauty, she thinks. Because she has been given chances. Because she has fought for them.

Jessica is years past whatever innocence she may or may not ever have actually possessed, and she is above all else practical, but she does not have to be. She has shed obligations that do not suit her and yet presented just enough of a front for safety, just enough proper behavior to distract from a rebellion that fades more and more every day. One choice, she reminds herself. One choice almost thirteen years ago. One defiant moment that changed the course of her little life. Otherwise she has been perfect.

That perfection is perhaps unnecessary, she thinks as she puts her hand to the window-glass. Whatever outside expectations she still carries have faded, and those were always a lower volume than the pressure in her own head, the inherent desire within her to be everything at all times. Be everything she could be, even as some of her roles contradict, even as-

She hears the door behind her open slowly and finds no reason to so much as turn her head. She knows heartbeats and movement patterns, and this does not need her attention.

Instead her partner approaches, stopping just within reach. There is an understanding that they rarely enter each other’s spaces during daylight without deep reason, but everything seems even enough. This is at most a breach of proper behavior, not an emergency, unusual but not unthinkable and-

“Nothing’s keeping you trapped in here,” he says, noticing her position.

“Nothing except the cold,” she corrects. “And that’s more than enough for me.”

“I know you…”

They have learned to talk about this in delicate terms over the years, out of mutual respect. She does isolate herself with some intent, she will never have his comfort level around other people and they both know there’s no point in pretending otherwise, hiding away makes it easier to avoid her internal conflicts and on some level she really does prefer it and-

“I’ve always been better at watching things from a safe distance,” she murmurs. “Regardless of whether they’re alive.”

Her partner makes a noise that isn’t quite a laugh, and this is when she feels the most real, when she is reminded how comfortable she is around him. “You have choices,” he reminds her. “You always have-“

“You’re pushing me to get frostbite. That’s new.”

“Not quite what I-“

“I know. You’re lucky I know you so well.”

“I am.”

They stand there in a silence that lasts almost too long, and she can’t remember the last time they were alone like this for multiple minutes without so much as reaching for hands and it feels right despite how strange it is. Safest thing in the world, really, and-

“What did you need from me?” she asks after a while.

“Wanted to see you, nothing more.”

“You’re not acting like it. Usually you’re-“

“You’re otherwise occupied, I wouldn’t-“

“I’m watching the beginnings of a storm, not doing anything that matters.”

He takes that as permission enough to get closer, to wrap his arms around her from behind. Their bodies fit so well, she thinks sometimes, familiarity is a comfort and-

“Is this alright?”

“I’d let you do more.”

“Not an answer, love.”

She turns her head and takes a heartbeat of a kiss. “Is this?”

He responds in kind with the usual caution, treatment she has learned to accept and want as time has passed. They are extensions of each other now, and he knows she is not fragile, but she is everything and that means careful movements and-

“Don’t start what you won’t finish,” she breathes against his skin.

“Later,” he replies. “If you’re willing.”

“You need motivation that badly?”

“It could help.”

“Later,” she repeats, taking another kiss before untangling herself, before things go further than they currently have time for. “Understood. It’s been a while since we actually tried to plan…”

“This isn’t planning.”

“Not for you it isn’t. You just decide when you want to start kissing me and I go with it. I get to think about it hours in advance and-“

“You don’t have to do… what you do.”

“I like routines. And you like me in lace.”

“If that’s what you want.”

She laughs, and she is overwhelmed by how much she loves him, how much they take care of each other. “I’m not sure if we’ve gotten better or worse at this.”

“Better, definitely. I believe you now.”

She leans in for one last kiss and it’s easier than breathing, how easily they move around each other, how deeply she wants. “I’ve never lied to you,” she murmurs. “You know that.”

He glances away like they both know it’s a little more complicated than that but now is no time for the fight those memories could turn into. “Later,” he repeats. “If you’re still inclined.”

This is her life, she thinks as she is alone again, as she hears the door close and she turns back to the window for another few minutes. It’s quiet now. It won’t always be. She’ll take what she can until it changes.

[certifiedceraunophile]

Hi! A fan of your writing here. I just love the way you write Caroline. An Avoidable Heart is my comfort fic and I am constantly in awe with the way you write and craft the dynamics in that story. Caroline's inner monologue is just priceless and God! I just love that intro scene where Caroline is walking into the Mikaelson compound with vampires and hybrids in the surrounding ready to pounce on her.

I would love to hear how you would have visualized Caroline crossing over into TO or not? Like in what season and why? How it would have likely gone?

Thank you!

First of all lovely anon gimme a moment to breathe, asdfghjkl why are people so lovely 😭😭🥺✨ It means sooo much to me that you’d take the time to jump into my inbox and send these kind words, like please I’m not worthyyyyy, But you make me smile and feel really freaking warm so *handcuffs your hand to mine* you aint leaving 💖✨💞🙃

But OK ALSO oh my god dude THAT CAROLINE WALTZS INTO THE COMPOUND AND TAKES ON A COUPLE HUNDRED VAMPIRES BY HERSELF SCENE???? Ughhhhh I’m sorry but I have SUCH a boner for Caroline in that, like my badass -I admit kinda op- QUEEN IS HERE and she’s fucking shit up, I’m sorry but I love that scene so much it’s so dear to me I was killing myself over how self-indulgent and grossly Over powered Caroline is but like idgaf man it’s such a hot scene and Caroline is practically invincible and we just love to see that, so seriously lovely anon, you telling me you LOVE that scene??? Puts the biggest smile on my face and reassures me a LOT bc I was whining and cribbing over how absolutely unbalanced that scene is to literally everyone BUT LIKE YOU JUMPING OUT OF NOWHERE and pointing that exact scene UGHH…...meant to fucking be the both of us 💖💞✨

And ALSO Caroline’s monologue is quite honestly the easiest inner monologue out of the three voices I wrote for that work, Klaus’s is the real pain in the ass tbvh like it is NOT easy writing pretentious besotted losers with a Kardashian complex especially when you need to make them sound cool when they’re the lamest OP dude bros to ever exist - and no I don’t hate Klaus although I seem to try my darndest to convince ppl I do- I just personally believe that a feral fucker like that with a thousand years of existence under his belt can grow a pair and graduate from his kindergarten level of emotional maturity to adult sometime soon, But then on the flipside he’s so grossly adorkably smitten and feral for Caroline plus hella horny for her all the time that its usually easy to write the trashed and devoted idiot he is into something pretentious and powerful and potent when relating to his unflappable arrogance and his narcissism, but sometimes I also need him to be *deep* and ffs profound for the sake of the plot and jfc my muse just wont work with me on that, she’s like I’m sorry I’m not about to bust my ass to make this mongrel intelligible like no sir all I wanna do is make him uncomfortably horny for Caroline and leave him like that.

So smh yeah the struggle is real….but lmao Caroline is just so precious and fiercely protective and just so achingly lonely in that story, so desperate for connection and trust and intimacy yet so guarded and impervious to everyone like it hurts me to write her like that but it really challenges me as an author to balance out her inherent light with the “void” I create in her and through her, so yeah it’s a very fulfilling task and I wouldnt change it one bit, and also I had to balance out her physical op-ness w half a millennium of the ugliest emotional trauma lol so I guess that figures, but the point being….once again I am overjoyed knowing that you liked a facet of the story that I tried so hard to make as authentically Caroline and achingly real and moving as I can and I cannot possibly feel more accomplished than rn for it so ty ty ty ty for reaching out to me and telling me *tackle hugs* It makes me GIDDY knowing that you enjoyed that particular part of the story like ugh stab me please you're too sweet.

And ok NOW, coming to The Originals part of the ask, (also please note that when I say TO headcanon; Hope does not exist, Hayley is a dead in a ditch and ofc Klaus will stop being that lil bitch they tried to pawn off as Klaus in TO) 

HEADCANON 1

Honestly my biggest headcanon when it comes to TO crossovers somehow always include non-humanity!Caroline like it’s just so perfect to me?? The opportunity to make shit BLOW UP b/w them like imagine the DEBAUCHERY, the heat, the SEXUAL TENSION, the repression of one Klaus Mikaelson, the EXPLORATIONS, and omg the role reversal when Klaus has to be the voice of moral reason between them and not bc he believes Caroline would not be able to stand herself if she does something heinous and monstrous but bc he wants her to be completely and utterly herself, and yk *aware*, when she DECIMATES ppl to the ground and is in full-on predator mode, like he wants her monster to come out and play with him when no part of Caroline is locked away or suppressed, so obviously when she is w/o her humanity KLAUS exercises restraint on her behalf, like can you imagine that, Klaus restraining himself and being the vague, extremely broken and just largely inaccurate moral compass between the two of them for ALL the wrong reasons- and the entirety of NOLA just standing there watching him herd this baby vampire who seems to be intent on riling him up and angering him when all she is doing is giving him a massive hybrid hard on, like IMAGINE THE GOODNESS of non-humanity Caroline wrecking NOLA and Klaus letting her wreck it bc he is helpless in the face of Caroline Forbes and also bc he is quite honestly *enjoying* the debauchery himself so why put a damper on the festivities.

-I might wanna add that I favour this headcanon a lot bc I genuinely do not even remotely *like* the idea of NOLA as Klaus's chosen place to set his roots so like I would love Caroline going to NOLA and destroying everything there just bc I detest NOLA and the storyline behind it in TO. (yes is it petty? Obvi, but like I am a petty soul and I make no apologies ma’am)

HEADCANON 2

So yeah that’s my main TO headcanon, but my other one being, one I talk about very frequently, scream about in tag rants to an obsessive level, and like this is a cracky one but still very valid, where Caroline rolls up to NOLA humanity intact and all, finds Hayley preggo and is just laughing her fucking ass off bc anybody ANYBODY, with half a brain and a two minute convo w klaus would know how UTTERLY stupid the entire baby shit is especially when it’s with an immemorable one night stand, and Caroline’s just losing her shit about how like an entire city is obssessed w this baby and she just straight up tells Klaus he’d SUCK as a dad (which he really does tho like he was a shitty fucking dad canonically too) and Klaus is just like *sigh* girl tell me about it. I mean basically he’s finally relieved that someone is on his side about the whole baby thing and how he definitely does not want his entire millennium of life to finally sum up to this one squalling leaking stinky infant/unicorn Hayley is apparently baking in her oven, and I say this headcanon is cracky bc klaus would never have put up w this mess long enough for Caroline to come in and sort it out, there’s this preferred method of disposal of his called heart ripping that would've been employed quite early on and honestly saved us all a lot of brain cells and minused years of life, bc let’s be real any Klaus who’s NOT a lil snivelling bitch wearing a Klaus skinsuit would’ve yeeted the baby and the mama first chance he got, and that’s just how I see it.

Lmao I really hope I didnt scare you away w my *strong* opinions Ik they can be a bit much but I enjoy having them so theyre not going anywhere, anyways this ask answer got WAYYYY too long but I’m hoping I answered your question well with this or atleast left you slightly confused and bemused over my feral screaming....either ways I’m really really really happy to have got your ask and the chance to rant so much bs, Twas cathartic and honestly I had nothing to do today so I was more than happy to dish this baby out for you. Thank you so much sweet anon for putting a smile on my face today I am absolutely HONOURED by your words you’sa cutie 💖💞✨🗣🗣

[utterlyinevitable]

I want them all for E&O but will settle for 4-7 from each category for E&O please 🙏

Aaa you’re too sweet! Thank you for asking 💕

> ship questions <

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Ethan. Like in canon, Miami is when he started to see her as more than just an attractive, brilliant intern. She retreated back to her room amicably for the evening before Ethan could even kiss her. Of which he’s thankful because he respects her and her career too much to have a moment of lustful weakness. 

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

They both did. Ethan got good at it for the most part, but once they started spending time together outside of work related things after the Louise thing, he couldn’t help but be soft in the name of friendship. But idk any friends that would buy be a $2k keyboard 👀

Ode caught feelings after the Louise thing too. She has a better poker face though and with their weird boss/friend/mentor dynamic she couldn’t wrap her head around losing all of that because of fleeting romantic feelings. 

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Ode would laugh and says she knows - he’s her medical hero and their brains work similarly. If anyone was going to be her soulmate it would be him. Though she means it absolutely platonically. 

Ethan would just shake his head and say such notions don’t exist. Though if you told him this after his 40th he’d be silent on the matter, while everything inside him would be inclined to agree. 

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

ooooo this is interesting! 

If Ethan never ever met Ode I think he’d continue his jaded, mostly celibate lifestyle. He’s devoted to his work and it would take a truly magnificent person to change him - and that can really only be done by a soulmate...😏 He and Harper would fall back into their back and forth companionable coexistence. It’s not perfect but it’s something to make him feel like he’s a living man and not a machine. 

So for Ode... if she never stumbled upon Ethan’s research that completely turned her world around, she would be studying to become a dentist maybe? She always leaves music for the greater good of medicine, idk what she’d go into if it wasn’t diagnostics. 

 GENERAL

4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

I think they’re each others first real and true love. Ethan certainly didn’t love Harper or any of his other past partners since he doesn’t believe in the concept. And Odette... she has only had 2 other relationships and they never really stuck long enough to move past the initial infatuation.  

5. What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Ethan is 6′6 and Odette is 5′8 so nearly a foot lol. They’re also 10 years and 4 months apart. 

6. What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Odette and Alan adore one another. Alan’s crashed enough of the pair’s study and dinner not-a-dates enough times to forge a bond. It’s become quite a joke between the small family that Ode just comes by in hopes of running into Naveen and talking about classic rock and what growing up in the 60s and 70s was like. (for a girl who’s quite poised and refined in her clothing she is really drawn to the 70s billow and floral aesthetic). At the start Ode really didn’t want to get involved with Ethan’s parents because that’s his business - Alan made it really hard to stick to that. And by the time Louise turned up they already had a little bond on top of her hating the broken look on Ethan’s face. 

Odette is an inherently private person. Her parents know about Ethan and their mentor/friendship. They don’t find out that they’re dating until she goes home to visit ~9 months into their relationship and tells them she’s bringing someone. She has never ever introduced them to a boy before and they’re over the moon that she’s found happiness. Just from this alone they know Ethan is special. When they get there things are very awkward - Ethan’s not good at this and Ode doesn’t like how attending her parents are being. Long story short, things go great and when they’re sipping beers while the ladies clean up, her dad gives Ethan a small photo album of his favorite pictures of Odette through the years. It’s Ethan’s most prized possession to date.  

7. Who takes the lead in social situations?

Odette, for obvious reasons. She’s able to schmooze a lot better than he can. She’s also able to diffuse situations with such elegance and grace he has never seen in his lifetime. She gets him out of a lot of things with a smile and swapping business cards. 

LOVE

4. How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Cuddling is their favorite downtime activity. She rests her head against his shoulder or his chest as their sat on the couch, or throws her feet over his lap. 

They’re not big on PDA. Sometimes they hold hands when they’re around close friends. More often than not you’ll find Ethan with his hand on or forearm wrapped around her lower back. Kisses are short and only happen when they’re certain no one they know is around and if there are people around, no one is paying them any mind. For them intimacies really belong in the privacy of their homes. 

5. Who initiates kisses?

Ethan for the most part. Physical touch is one of his love languages and he needs that sort of contact in the relationship. Ode never denies him, she always sighs into him. 

6. Who’s the big and little spoon?

Ethan’s obviously big spoon because he’s like double her size. He also prefers to have his arms wrapped around her when they’re asleep.  

7. What are their favorite things to do together?

Running. Their thing is long jogs and then brunch right after. Odette hates running but took it up because it was the only thing that could get Ethan out of his head and talking enough during the Louise thing. Now running has a place in her heart because it’s more or less where they started falling in love with each other as people and not as just doctors. 

Opera. Farmers Markets. And of course they both just love being in one anothers company. Ethan also adores listening to her play. A lot of the time she hides away but he can still hear it through the door and walls of the apartment. When they get their big house she’s more comfortable with him in her creative space - their piano is the focal point of the indoor/outdoor sitting room. He likes to sit on the patio with the bi-folding doors open while she’s at her grand playing away. The music cascading through their home and out to their beachfront property. 

DOMESTIC LIFE

4. Do they have any pets?

No, they don’t. They keep talking about getting a dog or a cat. They look at rescue websites and discuss which ones they should go meet. But really they both know they’re much too busy to give a pet the attention they deserve. 

5. Who’s the stricter parent?

They don’t have kids. If they did it would probably be Ethan. 

6. Who worries the most?

They both do but in different ways. They both worry about work and the future. As director and only child, Ethan worries about bigger life things. Whereas Odette is quite secular in her worries - she takes them one at a time as they come. 

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

Ethan. Odette is not touching that nope nah ah ah 

[strangertheory]

"anti-Mileven"

I know you submitted this as a message and not an Ask, but I hope you don't mind if I answer your question with a longer post because this is a topic that is important to me but is complicated. I've meant to do a post about this, but kept putting it off because it is a very layered topic for me and my thoughts about Mileven are probably not what a lot of fans want to hear.

I respect that everyone develops an attachment to their preferred couples in stories for personal reasons, and as such any criticism of the dynamic between two characters that are dating can feel like a very personal criticism. I respect everyone's head-canons and favorite ships as sacred ground: I don't want to tell anyone how they should or should not relate to a story. That's unique to each of us as fans, and we will all enjoy Stranger Things for different reasons.

However: I do have some thoughts regarding the way that the narrative has established the dynamic between Mike and El. And I personally do not find their dynamic *as it currently is* to be one that is ideal for either of them yet.

I really care about Eleven and I really care about Mike. They are two of my favorite characters in the story.

To say that I'm "anti-Mileven" is a huge oversimplification of how I feel about Mike and El's dynamic.

I am very much anti:

overlooking the fact El has been treated as a lab rat and abused and isolated from society for the majority of her existence and her ignorance of her own identity and her own desires is repeatedly reinforced canonically. ("How do I know what I like?") El has spent only a few months out in the world beyond her cell at the lab and beyond Hopper's cabin, she knows very little about the world yet, and she is being taught much of what she now knows by her boyfriend who also happens to be one of the few people she interacts with in her daily life. The power difference and social difference between them is huge currently regardless of whether Mike is a nice kid with good intentions or not, and they are both fourteen years olds.

overlooking that it is superficial and not representative of a "deep" relationship to only kiss and make out with a significant other and not do other meaningful activities that establish a real day-to-day relationship (like hanging out with friends and other loved ones as a couple.) There's a popular misconception that the act of two people kissing is inherently romantic and a sign of emotional closeness. But kissing becomes romantic psychologically when two people share a deep affection for one another that is based on shared experiences and emotional and psychological connectedness. If two characters can be shown to care about one another without ever physically touching, they have the potential for a deep connection that is based on more than the thrill of physical affection. Give me a well-developed relationship first, and then kissing will seem romantic to me. Without an established psychological and emotional connection between characters, kissing is merely a superficial representation of the idea of intimacy between characters without any actual substance underneath. Sure that's what kids do when they're figuring out how dating and feelings and physical intimacy work and it's not harmful in itself provided that they are both comfortable with it, but keep this in mind within the context of the other concerns I list here.

trivializing Mike's dishonesty and blaming Hopper for Mike's lying when the truth is Mike could have easily explained to El that Hopper didn't want them spending as much time together and having some space would be better. El is well aware of Hopper's dislike for their time spent together. This should have been a very easy conversation. As Lucas rightfully asks as Mike is ranting about the situation he got himself into: "Why lie?" Good question, Lucas. Good question. El asks Mike this again later at the mall. "Why do you lie?" Mike stares back at her with an awkward expression, and does NOT answer her. Why is this answer not an easy one? Why has Mike still not addressed things with El? I think there is more going on here than just Hopper's threats.

I am very in favor of:

El learning more about who she is and what she wants to do with her life outside of the desires and expectations of other people.

Mike figuring out how to effectively express his thoughts and feelings honestly. He is clearly struggling to do this throughout season 3, and it is uncharacteristic of the kid who defiantly said and did what he wanted frequently in seasons 1 and 2. Clearly Mike is not comfortable and is nervous, which is understandable for someone exploring new emotionally vulnerable territory like dating for the first time, but he needs to learn to be honest and tell people how he is thinking and feeling or else he is also putting himself and his feelings and needs at risk and potentially establishing an unhealthy relationship that will hurt him and hurt others even if he doesn't mean to. Mike's nervousness is STILL present in the final goodbye scene in which Mike and El talk, and El tells him she loves him and kisses him. He is still stumbling over his words and anxious, and he seems notably confused after El kisses him. These small details are not trivial, they are clearly intentional.

Recognizing that Mike is the first person her age that was kind to El when she escaped the lab, and given that she has only known pain and abuse her entire life and has never known friendship let alone romance that her psychological readiness for understanding a romantic relationship is NOT the same as an ordinary 14 year old's and this cannot be stated enough.

Recognizing that societal pressures and personal insecurities might be a huge factor in how Mike clings to El's attention and affection for him, and that there is evidence in the story that supports this interpretation. We know that Mike is bullied frequently, and that there is a layer of homophobia often involved. (Even if James and Troy were speaking rudely about Will, they were still directly confronting Mike. The implication is there.) We know that Lucas yelled at Mike "No Mike. You're blind. Blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you!" This reveals that Lucas knows that Mike is insecure and wants validation. Just because Mike has a desperate desire to be loved and liked by a girl does not mean that his appreciation of El's attention is based on his genuine romantic affection for her. Mike might be dating El because he enjoys the attention, he likes being liked, and he likes how having a girlfriend makes him feel more accepted and normal.

Recognizing that every moment that Mike has tried to share something that he is passionate about with El (the Yoda figurine, the dinosaurs) she has been completely disinterested. Since El has no cultural connection to the pop culture stories Mike loves and she lived in the Lab her entire life, it makes perfect sense that she will have no interest in these toys. Her lack of interest in what Mike is passionate about, however, is worth noting: not because it's a bad thing, but because it's just one of many reasons they are "not even from the same planet" and cannot bond and connect easily. El has lived an incredibly different life from Mike, has suffered through so much, and is still learning about the outside world and about herself. She is severely behind in social and personal development. She needs time to learn and to grow and to heal so she can live her best life and recover from what she has been through. (She doesn't really care about your Star Wars toys, Michael, because she just learned what a phone is and is processing a lot of other things right now.)

*I want to credit @kaypeace21 for pointing out many of these particular observations listed above: you can read her very detailed and extensive analysis in her post here: El is Not in Love with Mike.

These are just a few of many thoughts I have regarding Mike and El's dynamic together, and why I find the romanticization and idealization of their dating relationship to be more suited to fan-canon and fanfiction. For El to have a relationship with Mike that I would personally enjoy and appreciate, the story would need to convincingly allow her to establish a notably better understanding of who she is and what she wants, and have time to heal from her trauma and learn a lot more about the outside world. While I suspect that the Byers moving away will be very difficult for Will, in many ways I think it will benefit El tremendously and I hope that she is given more opportunities to learn and to grow.

I also agree with @hawkinsschoolcounselor 's hypothesis that Mike is projecting his feelings for Will onto El. It's impossible for me to see Mike's dynamic with El as entirely separate from Mike's relationship with Will because El was found in the woods when they were looking for Will in season 1, El helped everyone find Will in the Upside Down and saved his life, and El reappears at the end if season 2 and saves Will from the Mindflayer. Until season 3, El's appearance in Mike's life has been directly tied to Will's survival and safety. I do not think this is a trivial aspect of El's narrative. El's importance within the larger story being told is repeatedly tied back to what Will is dealing with. The reason that El and Will's narratives are so deeply intertwined has not been revealed in the story yet, but I suspect that there are some important aspects of El and Will's stories that haven't been fully revealed yet that will bring all of these seemingly isolated plot threads together. The creators of Stranger Things repeatedly tie El and Will together visually and narratively (re: @kaypeace21), and I believe there is a very specific reason for this.

I look forward to seeing what happens in season 4. Whether my interpretation of El and Mike's dynamic is fair or not, I trust the writers have a compelling next chapter in their story for us all to enjoy.