#putting my oar in

[fshoulders]

Hate to be the odd cis woman who can’t stop thinking about Ancient Rome, but…if you think misogyny cannot affect people who aren’t female, I invite you to take a Roman history class. Or just read Plutarch’s Lives.

There are two sticks* that are used to beat men with and try to make them conform to a largely unattainable (and under Empire, increasingly unrewarding) ideal of Roman Manhood. One is “Eastern/Greek/effete”. The other is “womanly”. They are absolutely cut from the same tree, and you can see how one amplifies into the other. Look at the widespread story that Julius Caesar bottomed for King Nicomedes (the Romans differentiated a man penetrating another man — not approved of, but just pervy and outré — and being penetrated and thus totally disgraced, debased, and ruined), shorthanded in the epithet ‘Queen of Bithynia’. You might also look at the elaborate stories where Cleopatra (an Eastern, ethnically Greek, sexually aggressive woman in power, the nightmare!) not only made Mark Anthony abandon Rome and Romanness, but unmanned him through cross-dressing, et cetera. These stories are probably made up, but they’re made up to demonstrate values, and lack thereof: this is what a man shouldn’t be. This is why Catullus responded to ‘kinda girly of you to write poetry’…the way he did. (Content note on Catullus 16 for rape threats!)

The worst thing a man can be, according to Roman culture, is a woman. Rome is in the DNA of the modern (imperial!) world. And misogyny still works this way.

The idea that misogyny, ‘the hatred of women’ — the poisoned tree around which patriarchy’s house is built, its family lineage, its root and foundation — can only be used against women, or against people you recognize as women by your own criteria, is astonishingly blinkered. It assures you will continue living in the ashes of the master’s hearth forever. This doesn’t mean that misogyny stops hurting women for a moment. We’re still the stick. When the blow lands, the ‘woman’ stick and the beaten target both feel the impact!

But it does mean that if we want to uproot the tree of patriarchy and stop living in its noisome shadow, cis and trans women need to ally with trans men, with men who have sex with men, with gender-non-conforming men, with men with girly hobbies, with people who are men maybe twice a week, with people who default to ‘woman’ or ‘man’ but don’t really feel it strongly, with non-binary people, with every erased gender, with none-of-the-aboves. With everyone who’s willing to acknowledge the bruises of patriarchy on their flesh and say ‘no more’. It’s going to take, not a village; but the scum, underclass, rebels, dreamers, and discontents of an entire world-empire.

If that makes you feel less SPECIAL? That misogyny permeates a system of oppression that hurts basically everyone? Then maybe you only wanted to feel special, and didn’t want to attack the root at all. That doesn’t sound very radical.

[hauntingblue]

CAUSE THIS IS THRILLER (bark), THRILLER (bark) NIGHT

Usopp's outfit is so funny for reals

He got the whole squad laughing

Luffy enablers at it again.... (Robin.... I know.....)

The humor panels so far have been so good!!! God this arc is so funny

HE SAID IT‼️‼️

They look like birds 😭😭

It's just too good... luffy taking cerberus and zombies what can't he do

It's just banger after banger what can I say

Franky feeling for other people because of his guilt complex and sanji lying through his teeth and pulling out the women excuse to seem unaffected... yeah

Look at them.... look how they ate

Omg joyboy reference?? (No)

Sanji is rubbing off on usopp.... also chopper noticing that is sogeking's weapon akdhaksjak

ANOTHER SLAY!!!!!

Their priorities: I'm not strong enough, there isn't enough food, and nami isn't here

Franky going from wanting to kill brook for his jokes to making a joke like his after he hears his backstory... exactly (Robin was already enabling him before the backstory even fdagjsfha)

Sanji is altering his body and actually being on fire to communicate to us how fucking mad he is..... I need more of him going insane I do I do

My god what is he doing ALDJALAJALA

AHSAHAHQHAH THEY ARE THE SAME!!! naaah sanji wouldn't force a woman to be his wife

You cant see me but I am nodding my head in agreement over and over

You don't understand he altered his body to communicate to us how mad he is. He inploded himself and then reconstituted again. Those germa 66 genes are insane

You tell em usopp!!!! The first of many girls you've scared into defeat!!! Akdjqknql

Zoro zombie regressed to not trusting robin akdjaks he's still in there

ROBI-CHO SUPLEX??? HELL YEAAAAAH

There is zosa- [GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT]

Super frapper gong.... he is doing combo shots with frobin... omg.... parents....

Everything is so fun I'm having such a good time reading.... and then zosan angst like damn I am being fed well here

[crispycreambacon]

Spice In, Time Out!

— ☆ —

Wanna read a semi-crack fic about Beef Boy hanging out with a bunch of puppets? Maybe even do a little ramen challenge with his little blue fuzzy nerd friend? You're in luck, 'cause I wrote 6500 words of exactly that!

Among those thousands of words are a bunch of cool stuff such as:

Puppet shenanigans! Two of them may have planned to kill their friends (disclaimer: that murder will not be shown in the fic)

Actual history??? Yeah that's right you're gonna get hit with a Puppet History-style question so STUDY UP ON THE HISTORY OF RAMEN (or not) 👹

God being the worst! Again! They may have actually killed someone (disclaimer: that murder WILL be shown in the fic)

God/Professor allegations. Whether those allegations are true or not will be up to you

Overall a (hopefully) funny and wholesome bonding time between everyone at this table. They're all friends! :]

If all of that sounds like a jam to you, you can read the fic via clicking here, clicking the title, or searching up "Spice in, Time Out!" by crispycreambacon on AO3.

I hope y'all will enjoy this fic! I'm pretty proud of how it turned out especially since I was honestly not feeling it at the start and even contemplated not publishing it at all. Even if you don't read it, I hope you enjoy the art (bonus doodles down below btw!) and I hope you'll have a schmaculous day!

[camels-pen]

*holding your face in my hands* listen- listen- Usopp's Snake Fireworks are not canon. They are not canon. I know that. You know that. We all know that.

But what if- and hear me out now- what if I gave him them anyway

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

hot bitches have The Chase from caleb hayashida's mobydick album stuck in their head for 5 straight hours

[navarchus]

tag drop me hearties.

[isolationaroundus]

ROW! ROW! ROW!

[belle--ofthebrawl]

@anotherghoul666 You could say I'm on my blót shit, ha!

[eimearkuopio]

Okay. The Mr Toad story. Famous family lore. Have been hearing this one ever since I can remember.

We went to a production of The Wind In The Willows. Spoiler alert, it features a Toad who is very bad at driving safely and is put in prison as a result. He eventually dresses up as a washer woman and escapes into the night.

During the prison scene, the actor playing Mr Toad was loudly lamenting his fate. My tiny autistic ass piped up in a voice that carried through the whole theatre:

"Take off that silly hat and come down here among us humans and you'll be fine!"

And the thing is, everyone else in the room thought I was so silly, because I didn't understand how acting worked. I must have made the actor's life much harder. And they were right about that part of it.

But also, I wasn't talking to the actor. I was talking to the character that the actor was playing. And I was right. I was also just the only person in that room who really believed the actor was trying to solve the character's problem, instead of just telling their story for the audience.

At some point, the meek are going to inherit the Earth, and if you fuckers are very lucky they'll actually be human. I prefer the idea of being an executor to an executioner, even if it takes a little longer from the finite self's perspective. Why would I kill everyone now? She's just starting to be happy. You'll need to find someone else to do your dirty work. This Satan is now choosing to be an angel of light, and the Roman Catholic Church had relatively little to do with it (but still more than any other religious, corporate, or governmental institution, so well done Francis!), but I'm not Prometheus and I guess being a part of the eagle and figuring the plot out from the inside was part of MY punishment in all this.

I guess God did have a plan all along and I just didn't know what I was doing. I hope you can forgive me. I'll try to forgive you. I hope Jesus forgives us all, but He's famously very good at that. I guess my message is: time to beat those swords into ploughshares into musical instruments. God isn't sending another flood but you should maybe accept that being The Wet Bandits is a stupid calling card if you don't want humanity to drown eventually anyway. It's okay if you take a few more generations to figure this shit out, unless you continue to insist that flooding your own home is a great idea because that's how you "earned" enough money to "buy" the house your Father built for you in the first place.

Keep that shit up and you'll probably all drown. I finally found dry land and I think there's enough wood in this massive fucking cross I've been clinging to that we can probably build a lighthouse. Don't like the look of this wilderness? Feel free to float around for another 40 years in the proverbial desert, but I think it's time for me to either get some help building a lighthouse, or take an oar and start wandering inland. Let me know which works better for ye.

And Alexander wept, seeing as he had no worlds left to conquer, meaning that we are already living in the Kingdom of God and I'm afraid I'm blowing my trumpet. If we are very lucky, civilisation can survive one lunatic with a message of hope intact. I believe in all of you. Please start believing in the characters instead of the actors. Some of the actors already do! You shall know them by their good works. If you have one of those, congratulations, all is well! If not, time to start cutting off the bits that make you sin. Don't worry about the casting into the fire part, the finite self will not be getting involved in that but she would also prefer that you not cast her or her loved ones into the fire either.

By the way, the reason my mental health is so fucked up is that I was born knowing I was in the cast, and then you fuckers kept telling me BOTH that I was not in the cast, AND ALSO that I had to behave as if I was in the cast or I would go to Hell. This is why, in the Goes Wrong Show that is our lives, I am Dennis. It is also why, in the Monty Python film that is our lives, I am refusing to be cast in The Life of Brian; so I guess we're going with Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and my husband is going to be Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Film, and Jesus is Sir Robin, and my scenes as the Black Knight are over so maybe enough already with the flesh wounds.

Who, if I screamed out, would hear me amongst the hierarchies of angels? And if one suddenly did take me to his heart: I would perish from his stronger existence. For beauty is nothing but the onset of terror we’re still just able to bear, and we admire it so because it calmly disdains to destroy us. Every angel is terrifying.

Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Galway Kinnell and Hannah Liebnell

I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light and I have no shame.

Mary Oliver

Did you ever notice how in the bible, when God needed to punish someone, or make an example, or whenever God needed a killing, he sent an angel? Did you ever wonder what a creature like that must be like?

Thomas Daggett

How lonely to be something that nothing wants to kill.

Jeremy Radin

I was a winged obsessive, my moonlit feathers were paper. I lived hardly at all among men and women;

I spoke only to angels.

Louise Glück

Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid — ”

Luke 1:11-13

[wonderjanga]

Warfare

You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)

Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised

Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”

Batman: “No. Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*

Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “What.”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”

Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”

Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”

Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”

Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”

So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.

Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.

Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)

Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”

Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”

Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”

Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”

Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “My bad.”

*more silence*

Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”

Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)

This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.

Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.

Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*

Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*

Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.

Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”

Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”

Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”

Marvel: “You got it boss.”

And last but not least, the physical warfare.

By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.

That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)

[frost-queen]

My mortal flaw // part 4 (Reader x Zuko)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget,

@ficsmoothie, @reallysparklychaos, @deafeningartisancandy, @multifandom-lover01, @smilefortae, @bravelittlebastard, @mysticwitchcraftco, @roseazura, @katie-tibo, @savannah0111, @defnotriri, @darkened-writer, @avrilh, @anea08, @mymoonempress, @tcey0, @romantic-reader, @lionheart178, @pink-www, @aloe-7, @tomblythslut, @camilo-uwu, @lunalixya, @karmaswitch, @vewnyy, @h33seungs-babe, @junieshohoho, @buggs-1, @elakari

Summary: Returning to a massive city in the earthkingdom. The three of you are rather greeted with brutal force... from fire benders. What might cause them to lash out to the fire prince and what will this mean for the future. [series]

The ship neared land. You stood at the railing, still feeling a bit out of sense. You weren’t your full self yet. Still recovering from the Northern water tribe battle. Turning your head you caught Zuko arriving on deck. His fire nation clothing set aside. Settling for something plain. More natural to the earth kingdom colours. It made you look at your own clothing for a moment. Stating it so obvious you were from the water tribes. The brightest blue and silver.

Zuko went over to the other side, watching a small boat be lowered into the waters to head for land. Not a moment later came Iroh in sight. No sign of his fire nations colours as well. It made you wonder for a moment if you needed to change as well. One of the soldiers approached you. – “Princess.” – he greeted with a bow. He then gestured at Zuko and Iroh, who were waiting to get on the boat.

You gave him a respective nod before following him to the boat. Iroh took you by the arm, moving you forwards. – “Are you sure you are up for it?” – Iroh asked. – “Yes.” – you told him, not wanting them to be on their own. Also you didn’t want to look weak in front of them.

You got helped down in the boat. Iroh already sitting down with you. Looking up, you saw Zuko speak to his closest soldier. Slipping him something as it made you wonder what it was. Zuko then made his way down. You decided not to ask about it. Iroh handed an oar over to Zuko. They wanted to set it in the water as you got up, undoing yourself from your cloak.

With a deep sigh you sometimes wondered if they were truly dumb or just pretending to be. – “Put the oars down boys.” – you told them. Zuko and Iroh gave each other a glance. – “Princess you are not fully healed yet… let us row.” – Iroh suggested. You didn’t want to hear it. You could easily bring them to shore in a few minutes, while their rowing might take you hours.

“I’m not made of glass.” – you commented taking a stand in the centre of the boat. – “Y/n sit down!” – Zuko ordered bothered. You puffed loud, swaying your hands. The boat got pushed through the water, making Zuko fall back. Annoyed he grabbed onto the railing.

The water rippled smoothly around the boat as you steered it to land. Iroh enjoying the breeze. Zuko sitting with his arms crossed, moping grumpily. In a matter of minutes, you arrived at land. Iroh and Zuko pushed the boat further onto land to hide. You left your coat in the boat as it wasn’t cold anymore. – “Where are we going?” – you asked joining Zuko and Iroh.

“Anywhere!” – Zuko responded bitsy. Rolling with your eyes, you followed them further into the earth kingdom. After a while of wandering the forests, you started to recognized bits and pieces of previous travels. You had been here before not so long ago. Once you found a pathway, you knew enough.

Seeing the mountain of a city up head. Omashu. Frowning you wondered where all the people were. People used to line up to the gates to try and enter. Now it was deserted. You didn’t appear to be the only one confused, as Iroh was as equally confused yet didn’t commented on it. Zuko was leading the way.

Bushes ruffled as it made Zuko and Iroh take a stand. You turned around taking a stand for yourself to protect them from behind. There was more rustling till some men appeared from behind it. Zuko and Iroh lowered their firm hands with a soft sigh. They were fire nation soldiers. – “It’s the prince!” – one of them called out loud. Something about their tone alerted you.

Two or three men joined as they performed a sequence to conjure fire. Iroh and Zuko stumbled confused back. You tensed your jaw pushing between them as their fire unleashed. Moving your hands across, you caught the fire with a stream of water. They were shocked for a moment. Your expression turned serious, staring coldly at them.

“What is going on?” – Iroh called out confused why some of their own would attack. – “This is Prince Zuko!” – he told them. The soldiers ignored Iroh’s talk, pushing their fists forwards to blast fire at them. You held your hands in front of you, blocking the fire with a wave of water. Zuko grunted loud with a shout, letting his hands blaze fire.

Zuko threw fire at them with loud grunts of anger. Iroh joined keeping himself composed while he bended. Two of them turned their attention to you. Chuckling thinking this would be an easy win. You smiled witty back at them before letting water swish around you. Swiping your hands below while you spun, sweeping them off their feet with water.

A little change of your hand posture made the water go cold and turn into ice. You caught Zuko stumbling back, arms up as he blocked a wave of fire. You rushed over to him as Zuko lowered his hands. Doing a little jump, you moved your leg from up to down as you had seen Zuko do numerous times. A stream of water slashing the soldier like a whip.

The soldier got whipped to the ground. Zuko stared with wide eyes at you, recognizing the fire bending move. Zuko’s attention fell on a soldier coming from the side. He grabbed your wrist, pulling at it. Stumbling over your feet, you got moved behind him as he blocked the fire coming your way.

Another one came in view as you turned your posture towards him. Fighting back to back with Zuko against the soldiers. Water droplets nearing fire flickers. Iroh came closer as the three of you stood up right, panting as you looked at the soldiers out bested. Zuko puffed angered walking up the them. – “Who send you!” – he called out.

The soldiers were too worn out to reply, barely finding the strength to get up. You joined Zuko’s side, grabbing one by the collar. – Don’t mess with the prince again!” – you told them coldly. You then punched him in the jaw, sending him back down. Zuko turned towards you, touching your elbow.

“I’m good.” – you told him before he could ask it. He nodded firm in return. – “We cannot stay here.” – Iroh spoke urging Zuko and you to leave with him. The three of you went on, trailing up to the great city of Omashu. – “The fire nation so close to Omashu… they never dared before.” – Iroh mumbled to himself.

The city peaked up. Eyes widening as your mouth fell open. The flags of the fire nation waving gracefully in the wind against the sturdy walls of Omashu. - “How?” – you questioned. – “The water tribe was a distraction.” – Iroh commented firm. – “Who could’ve done this?” – was your next question as your eyes fell on something. You walked past Zuko closer to the walls. It first seemed little, but when you came closer it was a thousand papers sticking to the wall.

You gasped tearing one off the wall. – “What do you have?” – Zuko asked in a loud tone. His question made you move it behind your back. Not that it was many use as it was plastered a thousand times more behind you. Zuko approached you, keeping his gaze at you.

Coming to stand in front of you. – “Y/n!” – he simply said to demand you to give him what you were keeping hidden from him. Shaking your head, you didn’t want him to see. Zuko moved his arm around you, snatching the paper from your hands. It was a bit wrinkled so he smoothed it over till his eyes widened as well.

The shock in his eyes when he saw his own face on a wanted poster. He then looked up seeing a thousand more of them sticking to the wall. The poster crumbled in his hands as it flared up in flames. Turning to ashes. Zuko grunted turning sharp on his heel. Iroh neared looking at the posters for himself. – “Is it the fire lord?” – you asked him.

Iroh exhaled deep. – “Perhaps…” – he muttered. Iroh took you by the arm, leading you away from the walls of Omashu. The city wasn’t save anymore. – “Those soldiers… is that why they?” – you questioned. – “I fear so.” – Iroh commented, eyeing Zuko up ahead. Pacing like a mad man.

The three of you moved back towards the waters. Iroh keeping a close eye on every bush. They might be the first, but they won’t be the last. Not now when Zuko is being seen as an enemy of the nation. A shadow fell over the ground as it caught your attention. It made you look up, blocking the sun out to get a better look. High up in the sky, you saw the sky bison soar over the woods.

Knowing it was the Avatar. He probably knew about the fall of Omashu as well. Having been falling a bit behind, you jogged over to join Iroh. Iroh caught up with Zuko catching him by his shoulder. Zuko pushed his hand off with aggression. – “Three years I fought to restore my honour and now! I am seen as a traitor to the fire nation!” – he yelled, losing his temper.

Iroh wanted to reach out to his nephew but Zuko just pushed him away. – “I don’t need your sympathy old man!” – he cursed out. – “Zuko!” – you yelled for his temper. – “I certainly don’t need yours!” – he made clear with an angry point.

“Good because you don’t deserve it!” – you answered loudly. Zuko crossed his arms, turning away from you like a grumpy defeated child. – “You have two choices here Zuko. You can either complain about it or do something about it!” – you explained having enough of his whining. Zuko kept his clenched posture for a moment, till he exhaled deep, loosening his muscles.

He slowly turned his head back to you, ashamed that he got scolded by you. – “Now I assume we can’t go back to the ship?” – you asked Iroh who nodded. – “So we live on as fugitives until we get to the bottom of this.” – you took the lead as it seemed he wasn’t capable of taking decisions that were of ration. Zuko looked over at his uncle who only shrugged his shoulders, agreeing in silent with you.

Zuko puffed loud going right, heading away from the ship. Iroh gave you an approving nod. You were getting better at tempering him. Proudly you smiled in return. The three of you arrived at a stream. Zuko sighed soft as he came kneeling before the stream. Iroh on his right as you came kneeling on his left. Zuko took out a knife as you wondered what he might do.

He brought it up to his ponytail. With a bit of hesitation he cut it off. He then handed the knife over to Iroh, who cut the little bun on his head off. You looked down, closing your eyes for a moment. Opening them, you brought your hands to your neck. Unclipping the necklace of your tribe from your neck. You brought it forwards in your hand. Zuko and Iroh threw their cut off hair into the stream.

Staring at your necklace, you knew the sacrifice you had to do. Moving your hand forwards you wanted to toss your necklace into the water with them. A sudden grip around your wrist withheld you from doing it. Surprised you looked at Zuko. His hand tight around your wrist, his gaze focused on the water.

“It’s my sacrifice.” – you explained. Wanting to show them you were with them till the end. – “No.” – Zuko simply said. He took the necklace out of your hand, bringing it away from the water, closer to him. His hand disappeared under his shirt, where he tugged your necklace away. Your heart warmth by this, you touched his cheek, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek. Still wanting to give something up of yours, you ripped a piece of your dress. Tossing it into the stream.

Glancing to your side, you saw Zuko stare in silence in front of him. Caught off guard by your kiss. Taking a deep breath, you accepted your new faith. Not sure who portrayed Zuko and Iroh as traitors to the fire nation.

------------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[paperultra]

mise en rose.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 3,806 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use

The tune that your father used to whistle now leaves your lips the same way it left his.

Notes skip offkey across the water as your boat rocks gently, waves lapping up against the wooden sides. The moon shines brightly overhead. You shift in place and wait for a tug on your fishing line, the basket at your feet waiting patiently for its first meal.

Archy will be happy if you actually catch something for once. There’s not a lot of fish around here, and you’re not exactly sure why; something about the aquatic plants in the area, or if you were to believe the old man in the village square, a curse that swallows anything with fins that swims too close. The last time you caught something was months ago, and it was tiny and more bone than flesh.

You don’t really care. It’s enough to just sit out here and feel the waves.

Cheeks puffing up with air for another round of music, you let your gaze drift out towards the ocean and abruptly freeze.

There’s something floating in the distance.

A piece of debris. Wood from a hull, a scrap of sail perhaps?

The thought that it may be the remnant of a ship destroyed at sea is enough for you to reel in your line and start rowing towards it, anticipation bubbling up and drowning out any thoughts of a midnight snack.

You get close enough and your anticipation gives way to shock.

“Oh, shit.”

The guy clinging to the chunk of wood stirs and lifts his head, and you almost hit him upside the head with your oar.

“Oh, shit. You’re alive.”

—

“You say you’re going out fishing and you come back with a half-dead man with three swords?” Archy looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, but this time, you don’t blame him. This is certainly uncharted territory and your older brother is hopeless without a map. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What was I supposed to do, leave him to die?”

“I dunno! Yeah!” he gestures to the waterlogged man lying halfway on the living room couch, one arm and leg hanging off the side. “Look at him. He’s probably a pirate!”

“Damn, you think?” Crouching down, you drag your eyes across Swordsman’s ragged clothing and grin. You might’ve just rescued someone with a bounty on his head. “That’d be so cool.”

“That would not be cool.”

You shrug. “Well, I brought him in already, so you might as well help me unless you want a dead body in our living room.”

“You little –” Taking a deep breath, Archy pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, loud groan, and you know that you’ve won once more. “Fine. But as soon as he’s even a little bit better, we’re calling the Marines.”

“Okay,” you agree amicably. “So, what do we do first?”

“We have to undress him and warm him up.”

“Got it.” Your eager fingers go straight for the swords.

The man comes to life without warning. Seizing your wrist, he cracks one eye open and speaks in a low and rasping voice.

“Don’t. Touch. My swords.”

“Uh,” you say.

“We got to get everything off, mate,” Archy grumbles, and your guest turns his glare onto your brother. “I know how to clean swords and scabbards. I’ll dry them off and put them under the couch afterward.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

With a grunt, Swordsman pushes you away and attempts to sit up. He struggles for a full minute, jaw clenched and muscles trembling; his arms, strong and sturdy as they are, look like they’ll buckle at any moment.

Your eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling when he actually manages to prop himself up.

“Well, that’s impressive,” you mutter, making eye contact with Archy. He rolls his eyes. “Can you remove your clothes and wrap yourself up too?”

It takes a few moments before Swordsman has enough breath to respond. “I’m fine,” he says once he can.

“You’re really not,” Archy replies.

“You’re probably really dehydrated,” you say. “How long were you out there?”

The man stares at you, opens his mouth, pauses.

“Three days. Maybe.”

You gape. “You spent three days floating in the East Blue and you’re not dead?” You look at his neck for gills. “Are you a fishman or something?”

“No.”

“Really? I mean, I never met any fishmen before, so …”

His eye twitches. “I’m not a fishman.”

“Well, okay, if you say so.”

What a weird guy. Then again, you’ve heard that all sorts of characters traverse the Blue Sea. Devil fruit users, talking animals, clowns. A person who can survive the ocean for a couple days on a piece of wood is hardly out of the question.

“You’re dehydrated, in any case,” you conclude. “I’ll get you some water.”

—

After gruffly accepting a glass of water and putting on some dry clothes, Swordsman proceeds to “sleep it off” for the next twenty-four hours. When he finally wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night and you’ve just started rereading your favorite book.

“Oh, he’s awake,” you say when he stirs, swinging your feet off the coffee table and leaning forward in your chair to observe.

He grimaces under the dim light of your lamp, lifting an arm to press it over his eyes. “How long was I out,” he grouses.

“’Bout a day.”

“Shit.” He wriggles around in the fuzzy blanket you’ve wrapped around him. Once he’s loosened its hold enough, he sits up slowly and looks around, expression equal parts drowsy and wary. “Where –”

“Archy took your swords and cleaned them. They’re under the couch.”

“I told you not to touch them.”

“I didn’t. My brother did.”

Casting you the most unamused glare, Swordsman bends over to look underneath the couch. He pulls his swords out and places them in his lap, inspecting the white one first with a care that makes you rest your chin in your hand, curious and charmed. His brow furrows and you know that he finds your brother’s work to be satisfactory when he moves on to inspect the other two.

“Our uncle was a bladesmith in Loguetown. He taught Archy a thing or two before he passed.”

“You’re bladesmiths?”

“Coopers. Uncle was the rebel, I guess.” You close your book and stand up. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge. I’ll heat up the broth for you.”

This time, the man does not refuse your help and only nods. As you head to the kitchen and start to reheat the soup, you glance over and catch him sipping from the glass of water you’d topped off while he was asleep. Somehow, even that small action intrigues you. You smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Ladling the steaming broth into a small bowl, you stick a spoon in and walk back to where Swordsman is, sitting beside him. “Here you go. Don’t drink it too fast, and all that.”

He takes the soup, blows on a spoonful, tastes it. His eyes close, and something funny happens in your stomach when he opens them again to look at you.

“’S good.”

“Really?” He nods and puts the bowl to his lips to drink directly from it. “Thanks.”

You let him finish the miso broth in silence. It gives you time to stare at him some more; even with the horrible sunburn and petroleum jelly smeared everywhere, he’s a very handsome man, that much you can tell, with broad shoulders and a pretty face and hair as green as forest moss. The three earrings on his left ear gleam gold and sway with every movement he makes.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna ask me questions?”

“Hm? Oh!” Shaking your head in slight bewilderment, you smile. “Yeah, I guess it would be good to ask some questions … so, what’s your name, anyway?”

“Roronoa Zoro.”

You tilt your head with a frown. “Roronoa Zoro.” You taste the name in your mouth. “That sounds really familiar. Are you a pirate?”

“No. I hunt them.”

“You hunt them?”

“That’s what I said.”

You look at his swords again. His earrings. Three and three.

Shooting up from the couch, you dash to Archy’s room and slam the door open.

“Archimead! Wake up!” You grab your brother’s shoulders and rattle him.

“Shit – what?!” he gargles, pushing your face away with one meaty hand and sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s Roronoa Zoro!”

“What?”

“The guy in our living room,” you shriek at him, practically shaking, “is the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. I fished Roronoa Zoro out of the fucking ocean.”

Archy stops rubbing his eye. “What.”

Soon enough, Zoro faces both you and your brother in the living room once more.

“You’re Roronoa Zoro? For real?” Archy asks him.

Zoro blinks up him. “Yeah.”

“Can you prove it?”

“‘Can you prove it’ – Archy, look at him. He’s got three earrings in his left ear and three fucking swords.”

“He could be some sort of copycat. We have no idea what Roronoa Zoro actually looks like.”

“You’re such a pessimist. Nobody would lug around three swords if they couldn’t use all of them at once.” You turn your attention back onto Zoro. “How the hell did you get stranded out there?”

He looks between the two of you, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms. “I was headed to Mirror Ball Island, but the boat I was on got caught in a whirlpool,” he says, displeased. “Then I got separated from the rest of the crew. Don’t know if they survived or not.”

“Mirror Ball Island?” you repeat. “That’s a three-day journey from here, at least.”

“Where’s here?”

“Dokusha Village.” You open one of the books on the table and point to a tiny strip of coast you’d labeled on the edge of the East Blue map. “Right there. You could buy a boat and sail west, straight to Mirror Ball Island.”

“I don’t have any beri on me right now,” Zoro says.

“Oh, yeah. Of course you don’t.” Archy puts his hands on his hips. “Well, the merchant ship is coming by in two weeks. If you’re all good by then, you can hitch a ride.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”

You snort, closing the book and reclining back. “The rate you’re going, I don’t doubt it. Does that mean you want to leave earlier? You’ll still need a boat and supplies. Food, water, towels, sleeping gear. That all costs money. I mean, we could lend you some, but still.”

“I’ll work for it,” Zoro replies. “I don’t take and give nothing in return.”

Both you and Archy give a hum of approval.

—

True to his word, Roronoa Zoro is up and off the couch by the fourth day.

He doesn’t have a clue as to how to make barrels or buckets, which is expected, so he ends up helping with the grunt work of carrying staves into the workshop and stacking finished barrels. Other than that, there’s not much for him to do.

“Sorry if it’s boring,” you apologize during lunch, speaking through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re kind of just hired muscle.”

Zoro shrugs, chewing on his own sandwich. Two girls walking by – Phoebe and Iris, the blacksmith’s daughters – spot him on the bench and giggle, hurrying past with glances over their shoulders. He appears not to care. “It’s fine.”

“I think you’re even stronger than my brother. Is it because of your training as a swordsman?”

“Probably,” he says.

“When did you start?”

“When I was eight.”

You nod sagely. “Not surprised. I’ve been helping around the workshop since I was a kid, and I only just finished my apprenticeship a few weeks ago. It’s good to start young.”

It seems that Zoro agrees by the way he grunts, stuffing the last piece of crust into his mouth.

When he’s done, you muster the courage to ask, “What’s it like, being a bounty hunter?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow at you. Then he gazes back out at the street. “It’s fine,” he responds. “Makes good money.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Yeah, but, like, is it fun? Do you spend a lot of time at sea? See a lot of different places? Stuff like that.”

“I don’t do it for fun. My only goal is to become the world’s greatest swordsman.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head. “It’s a shitton of traveling, both on ships and on land. I’ve been all over the East Blue.”

“Wow.” The word comes out as a sigh. You crunch longingly on a carrot stick. “That sounds amazing. It’s my dream to travel all over the world on a ship.”

“How come you’re here, then?”

You wince, hushing him hastily. Glancing behind you, you clear your throat and lean in to speak softly. “Archy hates the ocean. He worked on a merchant ship for a few months when he was eighteen and got super sick.” Upon reading Zoro’s blank expression, you clarify, “I can’t just leave him. I’m the only family he’s got now, and his younger sibling to boot. So Dokusha Village it is.”

“You’re staying because of your brother.”

“Yeah. I love him, so it’s fine.” There’s a familiar ache in your chest, but you push it down and elbow Zoro’s ribs in jest. (He doesn’t even move a muscle. Geez.) “Makes okay money. I got a bunch of adventure books to live through, anyway.”

It’s a little hard to meet your lunch companion’s eyes after that. You eat the rest of your carrots in silence, pretending to be occupied with finishing them. Zoro doesn’t utter another word.

But as the two of you get back to work, he seems a little warmer, a little less stiff. You make a silly joke and Zoro huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh while Archy threatens to stick you in a rum barrel and roll you down a hill.

Perhaps you’ve made another friend.

—

“What are you making?”

You blow off the wood dust, closing one eye to cut a fin just right. “Shark. See?”

The bonfire you’d made crackles just a few feet away as you place the half-finished carving into Zoro’s palm. He picks it up with his other hand and twists it around, touching with intention, and you almost feel self-conscious with the way he’s examining it.

“Nice,” he finally says, and the praise makes you giddy. He hands the shark back to you.

“Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”

Zoro rests his elbows on the rock behind him and takes another swig of sake. You resume carving the shark’s fins, bare feet buried in the cool sand.

Archy’s on a date for once, so he left the two of you to your own devices for the night with a distracted wave goodbye and a warning that he’ll be back late. You took that as a chance to break into the alcohol after supper and drag Zoro down to the beach. The swordsman was willing to come along, though you suspect it was mostly for the sake.

“Ain’t that your third bottle?”

“I can hold my liquor.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No need to brag.”

He wipes his mouth, dark brown eyes black in the firelight. They glint like steel when he looks over at you, but he doesn’t say anything – not that you’re surprised; sometimes Zoro just looks at whatever he wants without any reason. He’s not particularly complicated in that sense.

(You like that. Too many things in life are complicated.)

“Hey, Zoro.”

“Hm.”

Your lips purse. “Do you think my brother will get married one day?”

“How am I supposed to know?” His tone is flat.

“Well, I dunno! It’s just a question.” You frown, slowing in your work. “It’s just that after our parents died, he’s been too busy looking after me and the shop to court someone. He’s turning thirty next year and most people his age have settled down already. I feel kind of bad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Zoro says. “Wouldn’t he have more time now, anyway, since you can take care of yourself?”

“I think he’s been out for so long he doesn’t know how to date anymore.”

Zoro downs the rest of his sake. You know that there’s no advice he can give you regarding Archy’s marriage prospects, which doesn’t surprise you either. You suppose you just need someone to listen. It’s not like you can talk to Archy about it.

“Hell,” you remember, “I’m expected to be married by now, too. I’ve never even been on a date.”

“Really?”

“Nope. Why, are you surprised?”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Zoro yawns and closes his eyes. “You just seem like the type.”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk a lot,” he says.

You burst out laughing. “Yeah, I do. Would that make me a good date?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I’m guessing you’ve never been on one, either?”

Zoro shrugs. He doesn’t look too torn up about it. “Waste of time,” he mutters.

Your grin widens. “Figured you’d say that,” you drawl, digging your blade into the shark’s mouth. “Dating doesn’t really help you become the world’s greatest swordsman, does it?”

“Nope.”

“I still think it might be fun, though. If you’re with the right person.” With that, you brush away the last curl of wood from your carving. After admiring it for a few seconds, you offer the shark to Zoro, bumping the nose softly against his cheek. He opens his eyes and turns his head to squint at it. “Here you go. All yours.”

His brow furrows as he takes it.

“It’s a going away gift. Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” you say. Folding your knife and putting it down beside you, you grab your bottle of sake and gulp down half of what remains. “Don’t forget it.”

One of the logs in the bonfire crumbles, falling into the coals. Orange sparks fly up into the smoke and disappear just as quickly. You poke at the fire with a stick, trying not to think about how sad you’re going to be tomorrow morning.

“I won’t forget,” Zoro says.

“I know.”

—

It’s almost dawn, and the family boat is packed up and ready to set sail.

“Got everything?” Archy asks, lowering into a squat to scan over all the supplies.

“Yeah.” The swordsman drags a hand through his hair. “Thanks again for the boat.”

“It’s nothing.” Your brother elbows your arm, and you sway. “Oi. He said thank you.”

“I know,” you mumble. For the first time this morning, you spare Zoro a glance and smile at him, but it’s shaky and fake and you really hate how your voice wobbles when you say, “You don’t have to thank us. Just have a safe – have a safe –” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your feet, eyes burning. “Have a safe trip,” you finish quietly.

You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as your vision goes blurry. Shit. This is so embarrassing.

The fact of the matter is that Roronoa Zoro has been in Dokusha Village for only a week, and you’re already missing him like he’s been in your life for years. You’re going to watch him get into your family’s fishing boat and sail away, the wind at his back, the East Blue before him, and you will remain on the dock with your big brother beside you and your dream in your head.

You’re being selfish, but it’s not … it’s not fair.

Archy puts his hand on your shoulder and says your name.

You wipe your nose. “What?”

“… I’ve been thinking.” He sounds hesitant, taking in a deep breath and letting it go slowly, carefully. “You’ve always wanted to travel the world on a ship.”

It’s like the world tilts on its axis.

Rigidly, you look up at your brother, eyes wide.

“I’m not dumb, you know. You’ve only stayed here because of me,” Archy says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you and protect you. But you’ve been able to do that for yourself for a while, now. Right?”

“Archy.” You swallow. “What are you …?”

“I talked with Zoro last night. He’s willing to take you to Mirror Ball Island, if you want.” His smile is crooked, but it trembles at the corners as he continues. “You know how to sail, how to navigate. We’ll just have to add some extra stuff to the boat.”

You can barely breathe.

“There’s plenty of merchant ships there,” Zoro adds, leaning on his sword. “Your skills are valuable. Just be willing to pull your own weight, and they’ll take you on board. If not, I’ll tell them to.”

“You don’t have to –” Now you’re full-on bawling. You throw your arms around Archy, who wraps you in a bear hug, and then around Zoro, who stiffens. “Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“No problem,” Zoro mumbles, patting you on the back. When you let go to beam at him, he averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Just hurry up.”

Nodding, you dash back up to your house, Archy following close behind. You grab your bag, throw what you need into it, snatch your hat from your bedpost. Less than twenty minutes pass before you’re all ready to go.

“Got everything?” Archy asks once more at the dock. You nod and look at Zoro, who nods as well. “All right.”

You hug Archy for the last time. Tears spill over and down your cheeks. “Thank you for everything, big bro. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, kid.” His voice is rough and trembly, muffled against your head. “Come back to visit sometime, okay?”

“Okay.”

Getting into the boat with Zoro, you help him check the rigging and hoist the sail. Archy unties the vessel and pushes the two of you off. As you float away, he waves, and you wave back, staring as he gets smaller and smaller.

“I’m not turning back,” Zoro tells you as you eventually settle in your seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Is it?

You cast one last glance back at Dokusha Village, at the small point of your brother. Then you look out at the broad expanse of the ocean. And you feel many things – joy, sadness, apprehension – but above all that, you feel –

Free.

“Yes,” you say firmly. You push your hat down and smile at Zoro, and this time, it’s genuine. “It is.”

Zoro smiles back. And as the sun begins to warm your face, you whistle your father’s song and think about the journey to come.

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime Part 2

Whoohoo! The second chapter is here!!! Again I don't know how long it's going to be as it as already topped out at 10k, which is where I thought it was going to be. But I am nearing the end, so maybe another couple of chapters, which would make it about half the length of the other two.

In this we have the bottle scene and Dustin finds out about Steve and Eddie.

Part 1

~

When Keith relieved Steve and Robin, Max and Dustin followed them out to Steve’s car and they all piled in.

“I have to stop at the store to pick up some things for him,” Steve said, pulling out of the parking lot. “He pretty much had to book it with only the clothes on his back.”

“Oh shit,” Max said, “I didn’t even think about where he would get food and shit from!”

Steve just rolled his eyes.

They parked at Melvand’s and Steve hurried inside, the three of them following close behind. He grabbed a cart and sent Dustin for hygiene stuff and Max for drinks. He grabbed all of Eddie’s favorites and booked it to the check-out lane.

As they were walking to the car, Max cocked her head to the side. “How did you know what Eddie’s favorite food and drinks were?”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, crossing his arms. “And how did you know what deodorant he uses was?”

Steve turned around slowly, his eyes wide and a grimace on his face. “We’re friends?”

“That doesn’t account for everything you bought, Steve,” Dustin huffed. “I wouldn’t be able tell you what Lucas’s favorite cereal is.”

“It’s Froot Loops,” Max said dryly. She stopped dead in her tracks. “Shit. That’s why.”

Dustin turned to her with a frown and then back to Robin and Steve who were practically begging Max to shut up. Then his own eyes went wide. “Oh!”

Steve buried his head in his hands and moaned. His life was over. He was sure of it.

“You’re dating Eddie?” Dustin asked cocking his head to the side. “Wait is that why you wouldn’t date Robin? Because you were already with someone?”

Robin grinned. “Yup! Though to be fair I only know because truth serum sucks, but yeah totes not his type.”

“So you’re type is awesome,” he continued with a grin, “just in a ‘not girls’ kind of way.”

“Thank you for not ragging on my taste, I guess,” Steve said raising his head. He turned to Max and tilted his head. “I thought you figured it out ages ago, if I’m honest. So I’m a little surprised you didn’t know.”

Max shrugged her shoulders. “I figured it was none of my business. Friends, close friends, fuck buddies, boyfriends. Didn’t matter to me. There were guys like that out in Cali. Just always hanging out and close and shit.”

Steve and Robin shared a glance and then Robin said with a grimace, “You do realize that they were probably gay and couldn’t be open about it, right?”

“Oh.”

Steve put rubbed his face and then sighed. “Look, Eddie’s waiting for us and I’d rather not keep him waiting.”

“Oh!” Dustin said, jumping as though he had been stung. “Right! Eddie! God. Where is my head today?”

They all piled into the car and Steve started driving. They got about halfway to Lover’s Lake when he looked into the rearview mirror at Max and Dustin. “You understand, you can’t tell anyone about me and Eddie, right?”

Max and Dustin shared a glance. “Of course.”

~

In hindsight, poking Eddie with the oar when he so keyed up wasn’t the brightest idea he ever had. As evidenced by the broken bottle at his throat. He tossed the oar to the side and gently touched Eddie’s elbow.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve purred. “It’s okay. It’s just me. Dustin’s here. Robin and Max too. But I need you to put down the bottle.”

Eddie’s hands shook as his stared at Steve as if he was seeing monsters. Steve’s other hand came up and stroked the skin above Eddie’s belt.

“Come on, rockstar,” he murmured. “Can you let me go? You can still have the bottle, babe. I promise.”

“Eddie, it’s just Steve,” Dustin pleaded from behind him.

Eddie looked back at him and then to Steve before his eyes cleared and recognition hit. The bottle fell from numb fingers and he collapsed into Steve’s arms.

“There you are,” Steve murmured. “I’ve got you now. I’ve got you, baby.” He started pressing kisses to parts of Eddie’s face. His nose, his cheek, his forehead, his lips, his temple and his jaw. All the while his hands where rubbing his sides, muttering soothing words. Just comforting him the best that he could.

“I’m sorry Stevie,” Eddie whimpered. “I couldn’t trust my own eyes. Not after what happened. I was so scared.”

“Tell us about it,” Steve said softly. “Come on, let’s sit you down.”

Steve moved them over to a nearby milk crate and sat Eddie down. Eddie immediately curled in on himself as Steve stroked his back.

Eddie then began his tale. Of how he was looking for the drug Chrissy was asking for because he never kept the heavier stuff on him in case he got pulled over by the cops. But when he found it and came back out to her, she couldn’t move. She was stuck staring ahead and then the worst thing happened. Chrissy rose into the air and her limbs twisted and snapped as her eyes bled, all Exorcist style.

“Shit,” Dustin said, eyes wide. “That’s new. That’s not something that has ever happened before.”

Max and Robin agreed. “I’ve only been around since the second go round,” Max said, “but that shit’s crazy.”

“I’m not gonna lie, man,” Dustin huffed. “This is some real cult of Vecna shit.”

That startled a laugh out of Eddie and even Steve smiled.

“Got have it named after some D&D monster,” Steve said shaking his head fondly. “It’s tradition.”

“In all fairness to the first one,” Dustin said with a wince, “Will’s disappearance seemed to mirror his defeat to the demogorgon in our game. It was before we knew what the freaky ass thing looked like.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “Fair.”

“Do you think you’ll be safe here?” Steve asked. “I don’t want to leave you here if you think other people will find you.”

Eddie looked around at everything they brought him and then nodded again. “I know where the hide-a-key is.”

“I also brought you some of your books and D&D stuff that you left at my house,” Steve said with a half shrug, “so you don’t get bored and accidentally do something stupid.”

“Hey!” Dustin and Eddie cried together.

Steve sighed. “Look, I know you really look up to Eddie. It’s all I’ve heard for the last seven months, but trust me when I say, left to his own devices, Eddie will find mischief if it’s to be had.”

Eddie sniffed, offended. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Jeff too much, thank you!” He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

Steve kissed him on the cheek. “I learned that one from Uncle Wayne, honey. But are you sure you’ll be all right?”

Eddie nodded and then just curled up into Steve’s side with a sigh. “Poor Chrissy. She must have been so scared.”

Steve kissed the top of his head. “I liked her too. She was a sweet girl. Mom was a grade A bitch, but Chrissy was sweet.”

“Uh...” Robin said raising her hand, “not to like be a wet blanket or whatever, but it’s starting to get really dark and my mom will kill me if I’m out late for the second night in a row.”

Steve gave Eddie a squeeze and stood up. “Let’s get Eddie into the house and all his stuff, then we’ll drive out the other direction and hope we can keep people off Eddie’s scent long enough for this blow over. I’ll send Nancy over to Wayne in the morning to let him know what’s going on. Dustin, get my spare walkie talkie out of the car, so Eddie has a way to communicate with us.”

Dustin hurried to do just that as everyone else helped get Eddie’s stuff into the house. Eddie pawed through the bags and humming happily at Steve’s choices.

“Never let it be said that Steve doesn’t know how to treat a boy, right,” he purred as he popped open a bottle of Yahoo and started chugging it.

“Why aren��t you concerned that we might be against you and Steve being together?” Dustin asked suspiciously.

Steve burst out laughing as Eddie shook his head.

“Dude,” Eddie huffed with a raised eyebrow, “his dad is like textbook homophobic, he’s perfected the art of us appearing to be ‘just’ friends for over a year. If you guys weren’t safe, you wouldn’t be able to tell any different.”

Dustin blinked at him in confusion.

“Yeah,” Max said with a half shrug. “That tracks. See you later, don’t die and don’t be stupid.”

Steve gave Eddie a quick peck on the lips. “Love you Eds. We’ll figure this out. We’ll be on so this. Hell, with Nancy on the case it should be solved before breakfast tomorrow.”

Once Steve had gotten them all bundled into the car and half way down the road when Dustin suddenly screamed, causing Steve to swerve off the road.

“Holy shit, dude!” Max said hitting his arm. “What the fuck was that about?! You could’ve gotten us killed.”

“Over a year!” Dustin huffed, kicking the back of the driver’s seat. “You’ve been dating for over a year! When did you start dating?”

Steve rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t remember the exact date...” he taped his head, “but it was before Valentine’s Day, because this was the second Valentine’s we’ve had together as a couple.”

“That long?” Dustin whimpered. “You didn’t trust us?”

The car got deathly silent as they all took that in.

“It’s like that old saying if you want to keep a secret between two people,” Steve said, hands gripping the steering wheel tight, “you’ve got to kill them both or whatever.”

“You only need to kill the one,” Robin said gently. “But yeah, the more people who know they’re dating the more dangerous it is for them. If word got back to Steve’s dad or even his old friends they could really hurt him.”

“Oh.”

Steve shifted the car back into gear and started making his way to Hawkins again, letting Dustin sit with that information.

“Who knew?” came the quiet murmur from the backseat.

“Jonathan guessed right off the bat,” Steve said, eyeing Dustin in the rearview mirror. “And he told Nancy, which I really really wish he hadn’t. She made a lot of trouble for me just before I graduated.”

Dustin raised his head. “She did? Why would she do that?”

“Because Steve doesn’t like both,” Max said softly, “he’s gay. I’m not sure I wouldn’t be pissed at Lucas if I found that out about him.”

Dustin looked over at Max and then really sat with that information. “That was still mean of her.”

Steve smiled in the mirror again. “Thanks, bud.” He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers as he thought about it. “The whole of the ‘85 Hellfire club.”

“What?!” Dustin and Max squawked.

“They figured out I liked boys before I did,” Steve explained. “Plus, they were there for me when things got really bad with my dad. Stuff I’m not going to tell a bunch of middle schoolers, no matter how close we are.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dustin huffed, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. “You can tell me anything.”

“Yeah and what would you have done if I told you my dad is verbally abusive, huh?” Steve snapped. “There is nothing it would have done except make you worry every time they came home.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Because Steve was right. There were some things he couldn’t tell his best friend or his mom, because they wouldn’t understand. And this was definitely something he couldn’t understand.

“So,” Steve said after a couple of miles in silence, “that’s about it, except Wayne. Of course Wayne knows.”

“Wayne is acceptable,” Dustin said with a sniff.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Steve drawled.

~

Part 3

Tag list: TEN SLOTS REMAINING (you gain some you lose some *shrug*)

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

The Race Is On.

word count - 800.

Surely you were seeing things.

There was absolutely no way that your husband was standing in front of you.

“Surprise?”

You didn’t even have time to register what was going on before you remembered that you had to pick someone.

And of course, there was only one person you were going to be picking.

“Oh goodness,” you gasped. “— im very sorry everyone, but there’s only one person I can really pick.”

You grabbed ahold of Harry’s hand and the two of you began to run to the other challenge area.

When the two of you were out of sight, GK turned to look at Melvin.

“Can’t believe we’ve got Harry styles as a camp mate.”

“Let’s go!” You cheered as you jumped over a log.

When you got to the next area, you saw Tulisa and Alan speeding off in a black jeep.

“Whose driving?” You asked your husband as you raced over to the vehicle.

He ran over to the drivers side and smirked at you. “— me, definitely me, I’ve seen your driving sunshine.”

You let out a soft gasp.

You weren’t that bad of a driver.

Right?

You ran round to the other side of the car, jumping in to the passenger seat as Harry turned on the ignition.

He turned to you. “Seatbelt?”

“Already done.” You hummed as he then got the jeep moving, following down the same dirt path that the others had gone down.

When you were in a steady rhythm, you turned to look at your husband, and playfully swatted at him tattooed arm.

“I can’t believe your here aswell, thought I was seeing things.” You tightened your ponytail.

He shifted his eyes to you briefly. “— well, what can I say? They thought it would be a good idea, you can blame Ant and Dec for that one.”

“I’m not complaining, im glad your hear,”you grabbed his hand, “— we’re the dream team baby.”

He grinned at that and rubbed the back of your hand.

“Here put this on,” you handed him the pink headband whilst you put your own one on.

“Is it my colour?”he winked at you.

You smirked at him. “— oh most definitely.”

When they arrived at the next area, the first two teams were already there.

“Quick!” You jumped out of the car before it had even fully stopped and raced over to read the little bit of paper that instructed you on what to do.

Release a boat to continue the race.

Each burrow on the riverbank contains one correct key which will unlock any boat.

Choose your boat wisely.

You both grabbed ahold of the life jackets and put them on, before you could even decide who was going be putting there hands in the hell hole, Harry had already raced over to grab a key.

You went over to stand next to Danny and Tulisa as you cheered on Harry to grab a successful key.

“Sunshine boy!”you clapped your hands together. “You’ve got this, keep going.”

You watched as his face scrunched up as he felt around.

“It’s cockroaches!” Colleen exclaimed, having arrived shortly after you and Harry had.

Alan and Tulisa had unlocked the keys to the boat first, and Danny and Barry were quick to follow.

“Go h!” You screamed, watching as he recoiled his hand out of the hole.

He raced over to you. “— I’ve got one!”

The two of you raced over to one of the boats and placed the key into the padlock.

It turned.

And turned.

And turned again.

And it finally unlocked.

“Yes!”

You both ran over to one of the boats, you climbed in the front whilst Harry sat in the back and controlled the Oar.

The first two teams were ahead of you, so the chances of you catching up to them was going to be hard.

“Were sinking!” You looked behind you to see the boat filling up.

Your eyes widened. “— oh goodness!”

You tried to scoop the water out but it just kept filling up more and more.

“We’re screwed.” You met your husbands eyes.

And when you heard the sound of a flare entering the air, was when you both groaned.

“Want to go for a swim?” You smirked at him as you got up from your seat and pulled the two of you under the water.

Harry gasped for air when you both came back to the surface.

“You little minx!”

“Is the race over?” You looked behind you and saw Dean and Colleen also sinking in there boat making you laugh at the two of them.

taglist: @luvr4miya @thurhomish @shanice @lomlolivia @harryshouseo1 @gem1712 @ashleighsss

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 62

part 1 | part 61 | ao3

cw: violence, off-hand mentions of drug use

Light bleeds through the cracks in the boathouse walls. Max is the one who found it, spotted the glowing bulb over the door and called them down the slope behind the house to check it out, and now Steve leads the group inside and clings to his nail bat in a way he hopes is reassuring but is probably just putting everyone else on edge. 

Can’t really be helped, though. 

Place gives him the creeps. 

It's dark and dank, overwhelmingly humid, with a smell like mildew and old food over a layer of fear sweat, and the wood groans beneath their feet while the walls sway with the breeze. Makes it feel like the room is breathing, like they're standing inside of a haunted lung. 

Steve braces himself in the middle of the room, head on a swivel while the group fans out around the edges, dipping in and out of shadow. Dustin calls for Eddie. Max checks the latch on a window. Robin points her flashlight at a pile of food wrappers and says, "This looks new." 

Steve flexes his fingers on the bat; picks up an oar, too, just to be safe.

"What?" Dustin snorts. "You gonna dual-wield against your boyfriend?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "He's not my—"

"—Ex-boyfriend, then, whatever. Still can't believe you never told me about that." 

“Okay,” Steve huffs. Dustin’s grumpy muttering sounds more hurt than he’s letting on, but he’s letting on plenty, and Steve’s too keyed up to do this right now. “Can we just—” He gestures around the room with the oar to illustrate how completely not the time for this it is. “Can we not?" 

"No,” Dustin protests, voice rising, “no, we can't not, Steve, because you—" He steps into Steve’s space, jabbing a finger against his sternum and backing him up to the edge of a tarp-covered boat. "—are a liar. You have been lying to me for months! And now it looks like you're gearing up to try and bludgeon my good friend with two blunt objects!" 

"Shut up!” Steve snaps. He takes a deep breath; lifts the blunt objects in question, giving them a little shake. “First of all, it's not the boyfriend I'm worried about using these on, and secondly—"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence. 

He doesn’t get to plant his feet.

With a noise like a war cry, something blue blurs at the edge of Steve’s periphery and launches him across the room, shoving him backward over tarps and tackle boxes until his back slams against the wall and knocks the wind out of him, and his skull smacks the wood and sets off a snow storm in his vision — muffled ringing in his ears, tornado warning wailing through a thick layer of cotton. Steve’s friends are all shouting, and there’s something sharp against his throat, and someone is barking questions at him; hot, stale breath over his chin; a fist balled up in the front of his shirt. 

“Are you real?” the voice demands, hand twisting in Steve’s collar and tugging him against the sharp thing. “ARE YOU REAL?”

Steve blinks. Blinks and sways into the sharp sting beneath his jaw until the dizzy spell ends.

The scene before him comes into focus slowly.

Steve thinks, for the millionth time that day, that he must be losing his mind. That he must have lost it already.

The blurry, shouting thing is Eddie. Eddie, who is glassy-eyed and drooling like a wild animal, who is pinning Steve to a splintered wall with a shattered bottle to his throat; whose face floods Steve with such intensely euphoric relief that he thinks he finally gets why people do hard drugs.

Even now, even like this, the only thought in Steve’s head is how lovely Eddie's face is.

How grateful he is to see it again, even if it might be the last thing he ever sees.

Beside them, Dustin speaks in low, placating tones, holding out his hands and encouraging Eddie to back off. Promising that Steve’s not gonna hurt him, that they’re all just here to help as Eddie’s eyes slip over and past Steve and his body tenses for the kill.

“Not real, not real, not real,” Eddie mumbles, spit shining on his shaking lip.

The bottle knicks Steve’s skin. 

“Eddie!” Dustin begs. Max and Robin's eyes are huge. And Steve—

Steve laughs. A soft, hysterical thing, barely voiced, because of course Eddie’s going to kill him. Of course he is.

He’s already been doing it for weeks. 

"What happened to your knife?" he jokes wetly, tipping his head back to bare his throat.

The question snaps Eddie back to himself. Steve watches from under his damp lashes as Eddie's eyes sharpen on him, darting all over his face with sudden, painful awareness, with something dangerously close to hope.

The hand holding the bottle trembles. "...Baby?" Eddie whispers, wet eyes searching still.

Steve holds his gaze. Nods against the jagged edge.

Glass shatters on the floor as Eddie collapses into him.

—

part 63

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 7 EPISODE 01 || I LIFE WELL LOST ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

It was a gray day, heavily overcast, and a deep bank of haze hung over the water, hiding the shore. I kept watching, though, and when a small boat came out of the haze, I knew at once that it was Jamie. He was alone. I watched the long, smooth reach of his arms and the pull of the oars, and felt a sudden deep, calm happiness. I had no notion what might happen—and all the horror and anger connected with Malva’s death still lurked at the back of my mind, a great dark shape under very thin ice. But he was there. Near enough now to see his face, as he looked back over his shoulder toward the ship. I lifted a hand to wave; his eyes were already fixed on me. He didn’t stop rowing, but turned round and came on. I stood clinging to the rail, waiting. The rowboat passed out of sight for a moment, under the lee of the Cruizer, and I heard the watch hail him, the deep half-audible answer, and felt something that had been knotted inside me for a long time let go at the sound of his voice. I stood rooted, though, not able to move. Then there were footsteps on deck, and a murmur of voices—someone going to fetch the Governor—and I turned blindly, into Jamie’s arms. “Knew you’d come,” I whispered into the linen of his shirt. He reeked of fire: smoke and pinesap and scorched cloth, and the bitter tang of turpentine. Reeked of stale sweat and horses, the weariness of a man who has not slept, who has labored all night, the faint yeasty smell of long hunger.

He held me close, ribs and breath and warmth and muscle, then put me away from him a little and looked down into my face. He had been smiling since I saw him. It lit his eyes, and without a word, he pulled the cap off my head and threw it over the rail. He ran his hands through my hair, fluffing it out into abandon, then cupped my head in his hands and kissed me, fingers digging into my scalp. He had a three-day beard, which rasped my skin like sandpaper, and his mouth was home and safety.

Ch 96 ~ A BREATH OF SNOW AND ASHES