#rarepairs are not supposed to make sense

[flojouno]

i didn't watch that stream because i think it happened when i couldn't watch, but i remember seeing liveblogs from it and being like "oh that's a funny bit i guess" and then i started seeing people actually eat it up and saying that this was a good relationship and made sense that they got married like what are you talking about (tho the whole tax reasons shit was also popular at that point, but it doesn't really save it)? i was so surprised that it actually was canon because i thought theres no way the cc's also think their characters have enough chemistry to do anything like that (and in some way i believe they did - because they could atleast try to properly rp that marriage and not just making it a fact). cbeeduo was really the worst part of both of their characters.

you mentioned clingyduo, and god, when looking at benchtrio, you really would notice how both cclingy and callium duos are just so much better (as in like, better developed. having actually anything behind it you know) than cbeeduo its insane. i kinda always felt like cc's shik being good friends at that time weren't fully comfortable with each other in rp - most of their on server stuff i could remember was really just them hanging out? which isn't bad, but probably a big reason why the relationship of their characters was stale. and the worst thing that there was so much to work with, and they even almost did - i dont remember exactly what happened, but there was one moment in cookie outpost storyline that was probably the closest to giving them an Actual Interesting Moment, and it was fumbled so badly it's crazy. and then cran died and then cc's kinda stopped being friends or something (kinda crazy to think that happened while the server was still on to be honest) and the whole marriage thing was forgotten (by cc's) like it never happened (and it always felt like it actually never did)

i read this earlier but forgot to respond soz

but YES, yes to all of this. the burger van and tommys "i hope he makes you happy" were the only interesting things. i understand most of the server was improv but god. when the cbeeduo it was at a point where EVERYONE was obsessed with lore and plot and characters. id assume theyd take that into consideration.

callium was so much more than beeduo. which is crazy to me. cause tommy and tubbo were already best friends outside the server, and then inside the server. no matter what, cclingy were going to be heavily involved with each others stories. but ranboo was a new person to everyone. if cbeeduo failed why wouldnt callium? idk its bizarre to me. tommy and ranboo did start the whole exile thing, which is a big reason why callium started interesting. but beeduo? i genuinely cant name a starting moment that would even lead to the marriage.

it just never made sense. they didnt even TRY tbh. it felt like any other duo was more fleshed out. thats INSANE!! they are MARRIED and have NOTHING!! it pisses me off. all i see are aus for them. nothing that fleshed out was in the story.

[snip-stein]

Fav Beet pairings~

Bonus:

[sieglinde-freud]

thinking about them and banging my head against the wall again whats new. they are making me so emo. god. what the fuck

[shepscapades]

I do have to ask. Was the docsuma ever planed or did they force themselves into exsistence. did you go into this expecting them to have so much homoerotic energy or did it just spawn b4 bc of how other people went insane over doc and Xisuma (separately)

it was 100% completely genuinely unplanned.

I went from a diehard rendoc shipper expecting them to be lowkey The Ship for dbhc doc (or not making doc a focus character at all, really), to thinking it would make a lot of sense/would be funny if Doc ended up being an android mechanic, to thinking it would be cool if Doc and X were close in this au because they both do android tech, to then being like... oh they can be research partners.... to then planning the [REDACTED] comic to then thinking... oh... what if they cared a lot about each other :(((( and the dynamic kinda stole my heart tbh

BUT IT WAS ALWAYS SUPPOSED TO BE LOWKEY bc i know docsuma is... Very Rarepair-y even though doc and xisuma have been good friends for aaaages hehe

THAT BEING SAID I DON'T PLAN ON SHOVING THIS SHIP IN ANYONES FACES LOL they ended up being kinda downbad for each other in a few of my unposted side-drawings but i don't want to make it a central thing unless people really wanna see it LKDFJGLKDJFG

[gamblersdoll]

something i’ve noticed over the span of four years is that no one is allowed to have fun in any fandom. here are some things that i find funny.

youre not allowed to make ocs or do self inserts. people preach about how its destructive or harmful, but who is it harming? you? because you cant get yourself to make an oc or self insert?

you cannot ship people. (unless its illegal) full fledged adults cant be paired together unless it just makes sense for everyone. yall started to call it rarepairs, when you and your bf/gf/partner are a rarepair in the actual life.

“oversexualizing …” (logan for example) people thirsting or loving wolverine/logan (james) howlett in the xmen movies doesnt ruin your experience. it doesnt make you cringe.

making your own oc. literally you can come up with a oc and people shit on it. explained:

back when i made ocs or whatever/whoever, at least 3 people would say “why did you sexualize her so much?” “why does she look like a loli..?” or “you need to give her better clothes, why is she plus sized, ect.” (there was a whole user on tt who made pastel spider, but she got shit on so much she quit. when there is a WHOLE dinosaur as a spiderman.)

another thing that i want to add , again. stop using palestine as a trump card on several people (especially black people) to force them to talk about the genocide.

got a anon ask saying “you went to go see poolverine meanwhile there are children and women in palestine being killed.”

yes the fuck i did, what the fuck am i supposed to do about that? does that mean im supposed to stay indoors and not do shit but focus on everyone elses struggle? (do this, and see how fucked up your mental health gets.)

overall, fandoms are a place to have fun, be yourself, talk and be creative. not to have a stick up our asses and be uptight.

[gravedwe11er]

Co-existence

Another rarepair prompt, a bit late but better than never. Thanks to my betas @jayden-writes and @showstopper35, your help means a lot!

Pairing: Starscream/Wheeljack

Cw: a bit of injury, but nothing serious

Wordcount: 2.5k

Continuity: IDW

Summary: Five times living together was a bit of a hassle, and the one time that made it all worth it.

“Wheeljack.”

Lifting his helm up and away from the microscope before turning his head towards the sound of Starscream’s voice, Wheeljack finds his lover standing behind him with a scowl on his faceplates and his arms crossed, claws tapping out an irritated rhythm on his own plating.

“Oh hey, you’re back early. Something happen?”

Starscream snorts. “You really should check your chrono more often, it’s evening.”

Ah. “Suppose I should!” he chuckles. Losing track of time has always been a common issue for him, and he doubts that’s gonna be changing anytime soon. “So, what’s got you making that face? The council stepping on your toes again?”

“Stepping on my what-? Nevermind, don’t tell me,” Starscream mutters, shaking his helm at the earth word before carrying on. “But no, they’ve actually managed to be marginally more tolerable than usual today.”

“So?”

“So,” the seeker huffs, gesturing towards the completely cluttered table Wheeljack is sitting at, “you do know this isn’t a lab table, right?”

Ah. Well, Wheeljack did sort of forget about that, actually. Back in his old apartment, he hadn’t really kept a distinction between refueling table and lab table – his equipment took up nearly every horizontal surface aside from his berth, not to mention he usually ate in his lab anyway and had no need to keep it tidied away.

Though it made sense that Starscream, being…well, Starscream, might not see things the same way.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he shrugs sheepishly. “I’ll clean it up soon, yeah? Just lemme finish this up real quick, it shouldn’t be moved at this stage-“

“You can have one half,” interjects Starscream. “One half of the table exactly. And keep anything caustic in your actual lab, this thing wasn’t cheap.”

Wheeljack stares at him, optics wide. Avoiding his gaze, the seeker crosses his arms again. “We talked about compromising, didn’t we?” he mutters.

“So we did,” says the engineer, pleasantly surprised. “Still, thanks.”

Humming in response, Starscream sidles up next to him before throwing him an expectant look.

With a grin hidden under his blast mask, Wheeljack pushes the microscope closer to his partner. “So, what I’ve got here are ore samples from the Helex area…”

Now, Starscream understands the value of personal possessions, of course, and understands that Wheeljack would want to bring them over from his apartment when moving into his own penthouse. But why must they all look like…that?!

“I had this place professionally decorated,” he complains, with a completely justified whine to his voice, as the engineer shoves a battered, stained monstrosity of a desk into a corner of their berthroom.

In the living room already sits an eyesore of an armchair, completely clashing with the rest of his carefully chosen furniture. Little holo displays with photos of Wheeljack and his various autobot buddies haphazardly litter the shelves, scattered around Starscream’s nicely arranged models and knick-knacks. By the entrance, a few boxes hastily labeled as various lab equipment still wait to be unpacked.

“Uh. Sorry?” says Wheeljack, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess the table does look a bit grimy. I could give it a wipe down if you want?”

Scrubbing a servo down his faceplates, Starscream abruptly turns on a thruster and marches away from the unfolding disaster before he ends up saying something he regrets.

Primus, the things he puts up with for this mech.

Wheeljack wakes slowly, his systems taking their time to boot up in the face of just how utterly comfortable he is. As ridiculously huge and ostentatious Starscream’s berth is, he’s absolutely beginning to see its appeal.

And speaking of the mech- he lazily throws an arm out to the opposite side, finding it empty but still faintly warm - must have gotten up just a bit before him.

When he eventually drags himself out, his frame’s demands for fuel overpowering the wonderful softness of his lover’s fancy sheets, he finds Starscream on the couch, sipping his own morning cube in stormy silence. The room is dark, unusually so for this time of day, and Wheeljack spends a few confused moments thinking about unexpected dust storms before noticing the blinds drawn across all windows and the glass balcony door. Making his way over to the nearest one, wanting to see natural light at least once per day, he’s quickly halted by his partner’s voice.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” says Starscream, tone acidic, “not unless you want to see your faceplates on the front page tomorrow.”

Stopping in his tracks, he turns to look incredulously at his seeker. “Say what?”

“It would seem that there’s nothing more interesting happening these days than my ‘scandalous paramour’ moving in with me and making things official. The camera drones have been lurking outside all morning.”

Wheeljack sputters. “Wh- that can’t be legal! Isn’t this private property?”

“Well, it’s not illegal, unfortunately,” scowls Starscream, taking another sip of his fuel. “They’re technically not on my property, and there’s nothing preventing them from hovering just outside of it. I’d shoot them down, but,” he shrugs, “that would be bad for my image.”

“Primus,” sighs Wheeljack, ambling over to the dispensary and getting himself a cube before sitting down next to the seeker. “This happen a lot?”

“More than I’d like,” grunts Starscream, before giving him a sideways glance. “I’m afraid it’s something you’ll have to deal with as well, now that you’re here. I hope it’s not too much of a deal-breaker.”

Sensing the thread of anxiety in his partner’s field, Wheeljack throws an arm over the seeker’s shoulders with an easy grin. “Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll manage. And besides,” he says in a fake-conspiratory mumble, “I don’t think I could bear recharging anymore without these blankets of yours, they’re really something special.”

Sure, he’s not exactly a fan of being examined by the masses like a specimen under a microscope, but seeing Starscream laugh like that, at something he said, makes it all seem pretty bearable.

As Starscream flies home, zig-zagging between Metroplex’s towers in his altmode, he can’t help but miss the war, just a tiny bit. Primus, what he wouldn’t give for a chance to simply hold the council of worlds at gunpoint, to make them actually listen to him for once. But no, in this new, civilized age, he has to hear them squabble over everything for hours on end, wasting everyone’s time and still getting nowhere.

Doing a few loops in the air to properly stretch his wings, his thoughts begin to stray towards the recent addition to his penthouse. It’s been a few chords since the move, and while living with Wheeljack has certainly had its difficulties, so far it’s been surprisingly… pleasant. He’d almost forgotten how nice it was, being greeted by a mech who was actually happy to see him after a long day of work, work, and more work.

Buoyed by the thought, he transforms once he reaches his tower’s balcony and makes his way inside with a small spring in his step, only to bump into the engineer standing right behind the door. Steadying himself on Wheeljack’s chestplate, he barely manages to note the anxiety in his lover’s field before he’s hit with a verbal barrage.

“Right, so, first, I wanna say that it was an accident and I’ll clean it all up. Most of it should scrub out I think, but some of it got on the sheets and the wall above my desk’s a little burned and-“

“Wheeljack!” shouts Starscream, smacking a servo over the engineer’s mouth to try and parse out what he’s just heard. “Slow down! You said something about an accident- are you alright?”

“What, me?” says Wheeljack, stepping a bit further away. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just a bit dirty,“ he reassures, waving his concerns off.

Now that Starscream can properly take him in, he sees the soot and odd colored stains littering his entire upper half, though, to his relief, he can’t see any signs of injury. With that out of the way, his processor manages to register the rest of that frenzied rant, and he quickly shoulders past the contrite looking engineer, marching his way into their berthroom.

It’s a disaster. Wheeljack’s already beaten looking desk is currently covered in soot and chunks of unknown origin, as are the nearby walls, the floor, and their berth. The explosion, as that’s surely what it was, also seems to have broken various other vials that were on said desk, whose contents are currently spilling all over the floor and making it look like an abstract artist’s canvas.

“I swear it was an accident, really,” calls out Wheeljack from somewhere behind him.

Starscream suppresses the urge to scream, field flaring out in frustration. For a moment, he wants to yell at Wheeljack, to complain about his ruined furniture and make him repeat the house rules for explosives ten times over until they stick. He’s already had a bad cycle and he feels close to snapping as he turns to the engineer, but then he just- falters.

Wheeljack looks anxious, wringing his servos together, a genuine, openly apologetic expression on his faceplates, and Starscream feels all the fight going out of him. He should have expected it, really, when he brought this brilliant disaster of a mech into his home. Everyone knows that ‘explosions’ and ‘Wheeljack’ are a package deal, and while that joke was certainly funnier when it wasn’t his home being wrecked, he can’t seem to get properly mad at him for it. Anyone else, he’d happily screech their audials off, but… not Wheeljack, it would seem.

“It’s alright,” he sighs, watching his lover relax a bit. “I suppose accidents happen, especially around you.”

“Yeahh, I know. Sorry again, I’ll go clean it up.”

“Hmpf. You better.”

Wheeljack wakes in the middle of the night, the last vestiges of a fading nightmare leaving him feeling bleary and cold. Somewhere next to him, he can hear the near-silent hum of Starscream’s systems as he recharges, a faint heat emanating from his plating. Wanting nothing more than to return to his already too few hours of rest, he’s in the slow process of turning towards his lover when a sharp object meets his optical glass with a resounding crack.

He rears back with a yelp, one servo covering his stinging optic while he onlines the other, just in time to see Starscream jump up onto his knees, gun in hand and aimed at the door.

“What happened?” the seeker shouts, shattering the last vestiges of the night’s peace as he frantically looks around for an unseen danger.

Doing his own sweep of the place and really wishing he’d kept a weapon in his subspace, Wheeljack fires back, “My optic’s busted, but I don’t know- oh, wait,“ he cuts himself off, quieter now, and points at one of the seeker’s flared out wings. “Star, look.”

In the near-complete darkness of the room, the tiny glowing smudge of processed energon on the pointy tip of Starscream’s wing easily stands out. As the seeker turns his helm and freezes at the sight, Wheeljack’s recharge-addled processor manages to put the pieces together and he slumps, feeling exhausted now that the fear has passed.

“Looks like I’ve just had a little accident,” he chuckles, running proper diagnostics on the optic to see how far the damage goes, “no assassins here or nothing. Still, what kind of luck is that, huh?”

No reply is forthcoming. When Wheeljack looks over at Starscream, he finds his partner’s gaze flicking between his stained wing and his own busted optic with a guilty expression.

“You okay, Star?

“I hurt you,” rasps the seeker, an unexpected amount of self-reproach coloring every glyph.

“What? No, if anything I hurt myself, and it’s not like you poked my eye out on purpose,” he laughs quietly, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, it’s just a crack in the glass, the actual optic under is fine. I’ll pop over to the clinic in the morning, get it replaced, no problem. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

Starscream nods, shoulders relaxing a little, though his field still remains drawn close to his frame. “That’s good. Still, you’re hurt because of me, and that’s-“

“I know, I know. Seriously though, it’s fine,” says Wheeljack, scooting across the berth to put an arm around his seeker’s shoulders, lightly petting down the edge of one wing. “Wasn’t your fault. No hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings,” repeats Starscream, the tension finally leaving his frame as his field unfurls, gently meshing with Wheeljack’s. “Though perhaps you might benefit from inventing some sort of harder optical glass,” jokes the seeker dryly, “sounds like a nice potential side project for you.”

“Hah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As much as Starscream generally loathes the colonists and all the problems that come with them, he has to give them one thing: their entertainment programs are excellent. Not in terms of actual quality, Primus no, but they’re so over-the-top dramatic he can’t help but enjoy them.

It’s been a quiet evening so far, screaming protagonists in the show notwithstanding. Metroplex is stable, he’s caught up on his datawork and Wheeljack is a warm weight on his side, their fields comfortably intertwined.

“Wasn’t the red one over there conjunxed to that backstabbing emissary?” asks the engineer idly, looking up only for a moment before returning his attention to the tablet in his servos.

Starscream snorts. “That was two episodes ago. Besides, the whole thing was a sham in order to spy on the grand chancellor.”

“Seriously?” laughs Wheeljack, nudging him playfully. “And they call our relationship weird.”

“I think you should lay off the tabloids, dearest,” he says dryly, rolling his optics. “Just yesterday, they were accusing me of having a sordid affair with the mistress of flame, so I wouldn’t really put much stock in their opinion on anything.”

Wheeljack puts the tablet down, looking at him incredulously. “They said what now? Really?”

“Yes, really,” hums Starscream, before leaning over his lover with a teasing grin. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? Why would I want some preachy old crone when I have you?”

Smiling up at him, Wheeljack throws both arms over his shoulders. “Y’know, sometimes I’m not sure why you’d want me either. Really glad you do, though,” he says, before retracting his mask and leaning in.

As their lips meet, the show’s characters start up their third shouting match of the episode, but no one’s really paying attention anymore.

[letterex-fyofm]

probably the worst idea i've ever had (ft. hq rarepair that i've never seen anyone discuss before)

So, I have I think more than thirty tskym fics in my docs (none of them are fully complete) and recently I've been working on one that was supposed to be a one-shot yet it escalated and it's growing to be its full monster.

Without sharing much, it revolves around Tadashi and Kei's relationship, with it tempting to cross the lines from really-close-friends to something more - yet without ever making the real jump. I also projected my experience with comphet and realising I was bisexual and the internalized homophobia I first faced - and since my favourite character of all Haikyuu is Tadashi, well, I used him as my guinea pig.

The thing is, I wanted to include a Tsukki pair that was not TsukkiYama, KuroTsuki, TsukiKage or TsukiHina, since they wouldn't really fit in the story. I was scrolling on twitter and boom.

Hear me out: TeruTsuki - don't click off yet.

Listen, does it make sense? Absolutely not. I think Tsukki would be annoyed as hell with Terushima - yet I actually am starting to like the idea of them as a messy fwb situation, where there are no strings attached and they just vibe.

So, I think Teruyama is a pretty popular ship and although I have no problems (because why would I have) if someone ships it, I never could get totally behind it. Like, I guess it's fun, yet I also think Tadashi would never like someone like Terushima. And I think people like it more because it gives the chance to write about Punk!Yamaguchi, which I think it's a funny concept yet I'm not a fan of because I always find myself missing the actual/canon Tadashi.

Yet...Terutsuki? That could be funny and almost even plausible without changing their personalities - too much.

I feel so stupid - this is all this user's fault.

And this one too

TELL ME YOU CAN'T SEE IT? There's something cooking here.

And just imagine the amount of drama it would cause. For context, when I write jealousy I usually write Tsukki kind of depressed and with self-esteem issues (because, same) - which is great for angst and character/relationship study! Yet, I've realised that writing jealousy with Tadashi has so much potential to be funny AS FUCK.

He was two seconds from barking at Koganegawa just because he called Kei "Tsukki". Just imagine how funny it would be if Tsukki was suddenly going out with freaking Terushima.

I imagine him just being like "What the fuck, Tsukki. Since when do you like punks? He has a tongue piercing for fucks sake! Who cares if he is on the top of his class - his hair is piss coloured!"

And I think it would be even funnier if Kei and Terushima didn't actually have any sort of feelings for the other. Like, I'm not saying as in they are fake-dating, but like more as friends that occasionally make out because one, it's fun. Two, Terushima is figuring things out. Three, Kei wants to move on from whatever the hell happened between Yamaguchi and him and he is going to do it - in one way or another.

They are both using the other for something, yet it is not unhealthy since they are pretty open about it.

So, what if Tsukki wants to make Tadashi a bit jealous? Terushima doesn't mind - he is enjoying it even.

I have no words to express how disappointed I am of myself.

[melodyatlas]

hmmmm jason/kon isn't the rarest of rare pairs but considering they're like 90% of my brain at this point it FEELS to me

i think my threshold for rarepair is different from people who actively ship pairs with like <10 fics but i'd still consider this to be a rare pair lol

and im soooo with you on this!! i love love love jaykon, i think they're so underrated

it is another one of those ships that i think originates from their relationships with tim, but its not one where i necessarily think tim needs to be involved past that (not that i dislike jaytimkon cause thats good too, but thats just not what we're talking about here)

but yeah, i think kon would start out with a super negative opinion about jason bc of his history with tim, but would also respect the fact that tim does still work with jason, so he would work with him when he really has to, but he would totally be a bitch to jason the whole time

and jason would just. find that mildly confusing but also hilarious, bc to him- what the fuck has he ever done to piss off superboy? but its fun to snip back at him and even tho he can tell kon is serious, jason is just having a good time with the banter

and when jason finds out that kon hates him bc of what he did to tim, its this ".... are you serious?" moment, bc he never actually tried to /kill/ tim and tim works with other people who actually did, and also jason and tims history barely registers as a blip on tims radar so jason really thinks kon needs to get his priorities in order.

just- jason purposefully seeking kon out when it makes sense, push to push his buttons about the whole thing. and it works kon up like nobodies business and it takes him Entirely too long to realize that his anger at jason has tempered into a mild annoyance at worst and that he falls right into their banter without blinking an eye

they end up so comfortable with each other without ever meaning to cause it was just supposed to jason pissing kon off on purpose but now they like ??? have this casual ease between them when they end up working together on big stuff which confuses the hell out of everyone around them.

theres just something about relationship that start off on the wrong foot, because you aren't worried about what that person thinks of you, you can really be the truest version of yourself without fear because their opinion cant go any lower. and that trueness to ones self lends super well to making connections without even meaning to

alternatively, i also love the idea of them starting off hate fucking and then the ease comes naturally from them spending time together bc of that. it would still take both of them an embarrassingly long time to realize when things get more serious and/or domestic bc theyre still bitching and bantering the same as they were when they were being purposefully antagonistic towards each other lmao

[myearts-uwu]

WMMAP FANART? IN THE YEAR OF 2024???

I was supposed to post this much earlier but I keep forgetting to do it on this app sorry!!!

Anyway it's been so long since I drew anything wmmap-related. And I'm very glad I'm able to draw a rarepair I've grown to enjoy thanks to this moot! I had to draw them for this moot's birthday too so yayyy!

Ps: wmmap shippers before you go attacking me for liking a ship that is not canon and in your words 'does not make sense'... is it really that serious?

[hargrove-mayfields]

For ST Rarepair Roulette 💕 @st-rarepair-roulette

Word Count: ~5,000

Ships: Billy Hargrove x Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway x Jason Carver.

Warnings: Implied/referenced child abuse, lots of arguing and misunderstandings, very mild references to sexual content.

~~~~~~

“No. Nope. I don’t believe that for one second.”

Gossip. That’s all it is. Heather and Chrissy laying on the former’s bed, legs up against the wall, long hair dangling over the opposite edge of the bed, exchanging silly gossip.

Never the mean kind, Chrissy won’t allow that, it’s mostly their respective crushes and fascinations from school they talk about.

Or specifically, lately how much Heather doesn’t like Chrissy’s taste in boys. Or anybody, for that matter. In her heart of hearts, she knows Heather is just protective.

Still, Chrissy tosses a little stuffed fuzzball of an animal at her friend for that comment, “Hetty! Rude!”

“Look I’m sorry, I just can’t believe that Hargrove has like, actual feelings. I don’t trust him.” Heather elaborates, through her laughter.

See, she’d say the same every time, they both know that. What matters is whether Chrissy is bold enough to go through with it. She never has been so far. It’s one thing to have a crush, but to have someone openly pining back, that’s something more rare.

An opportunity Chrissy wouldn’t like to lose just to please her best friend.

She’ll try to win her over, “One date won’t be bad.”

But Heather will make excuse after excuse, “Every girl says that before the worst night of her life.”

Chrissy rolls onto her front, sighing so heavily the weight of Heather’s mattress lifts up, like she’s turned to the most stressed little helium balloon and floated away. Maybe she did, off into her imagination, taking her common sense with her.

Maybe she’ll entertain Heather’s concerns, but only if they’re productive, “Well how did you know Jason was being genuine?”

Heather's boyfriend. Track and basketball star, high class social asshole. Chrissys has never been a fan, to be entirely honest. Her earliest memories of Jason Carver were of him shoving over smaller kids in their church group and treating every recess game as pro-level sports. She still doesn’t see what Heather finds so charming about him.

She hopes maybe he’d changed, assumes he’d have had to to win over a critical heart like the one guarded in Heather’s chest.

Oh but Heather gives no such benefit of the doubt to anybody else, “I /don’t/ know it. But /my/ boyfriend doesn’t run over innocent children in his free time.. or whatever the hell it is Billy Hargrove gets up to.”

Chrissy has to laugh at that, it's so absurd, “Oh- He does not! Billy’s /nice./”

“Prove it.” Heather challenges, popping a gum bubble between her teeth to assert her seriousness.

“Hetty.” Chrissy warns, uninterested in playing that game.

Her friend isn’t having it. Heather rolls her brown eyes with so much force she literally rolls over on the bed, sprawling out over top of Chrissy like a beloved golden retriever with no respect for sharing space. It’s always been comfortable with her, coexisting without regard to self consciousness and mothers opinions and Godly image. Probably why she lets Heather get away with being a little catty sometimes.

Like now, as she claims, “Oh come on. Make it a game, have some fun, but show me he’s genuine. Or else I’m kicking his ass.”

“Fine.” Chrissy wants to be stern, but she cracks a little smile, her real, bright one, “If I'm supposed to threaten to kick Jason’s butt, I don’t think I’d be able to.”

Heather hums in thought before presenting a solution, “I’ll do the ‘defending of our honor’ if you help me test Jay back.”

“Pinky promise you’ll be nicer to Billy once we get proof?”

“That’s /if/ we get proof, but you have my word.”

The deal is sealed. They lock pinky fingers, one soft pink nailed and one a flaming red shade. In the ten years they’d been friends since Heather joined their class in 1st grade, not a single pinky promise between them has been broken. It just isn’t done.

Admittedly, that’s a lot of pressure. Talking about cute boys doesn’t feel as fun anymore.

Chrissy’s fluttery feelings start to set in, fidgeting with her hands to hope to drive them off. If she had her bracelets on, she’d shake them and enjoy the way they ring from the hard plastics and metals banging together, but it’s late, she’s in her pjs without jewelry. She picks her nails instead.

Redirecting, Heather hands her a stuffed Winnie the Pooh, and asks a question she knows will catch her off guard, “Soooo. What are you gonna do?”

“Hetty, I haven’t had time to think!” Chrissy complains, squishing poor Pooh between her hands, choosing to abuse the stuffed toy with her anxiety instead of her own skin.

“Oh come on. What do boys care about? Cars, sex, and sports. Pick one and he’ll show his true colors.” Heather says it likes it’s all just so easy, and she already knows it all.

Chrissy isn’t as sure. She considers her options,

“Um, sports sounds the least dangerous.. maybe?”

“Until he tackles your little ass.” Heather points out.

There’s a moment where they both sort of stop moving. They both know what Heather is about to do, but Chrissy's defenses are useless to stop it. She scrunches her body up as tiny as can be, but Heather has pounced, poking her sides gently where she knows her friend is ticklish.

Chrissy used to get all self conscious when Heather would do things like that. Not just touching her skin, so close to where she feels her strongest insecurities, but even jokes, little digs that had nothing to do with Chrissy’s appearance would get her down.

They have Billy to thank for the change. Dating or not, William Hargrove isn’t one to hide his affections. Everyone knows he’s had a thing for Chrissy for a while. It’s deciphering whether he’s chasing tail, or chasing the sweet girl he’d shown enough interest in to replenish her view of herself, hung around and flirted and laughed with so freely it healed a part of her broken heart.

She thinks maybe repaying him a little would increase the chances of getting the ball rolling, and getting Heather’s trust. “What if I cheer special for him during one of his games?”

“Uh, no!” Heather shakes her head, rolled curls bouncing in their pillow curlers back and forth, ”That just makes /you/ public about it. And he can spin that if he’s being an ass for real.”

“But I don’t think-“ Chrissy starts to argue, brow knotted.

Heather holds one of her hands, showing she is doing this because she cares, even if she’s being a little harsh, “Honey, I know I’m a cynical bitch, but I don’t want to see you hurt. Save yourself the embarrassment.”

“I don’t- Heather, it’s not embarrassing to be in love!”

A gasp, slow realization dawning. “You’re right. Oh my god, Chrissy you’re so right!!”

Heather kicks her legs with glee, fuzzy slippers going flying. Right out of a movie, she squeals with delight, infecting Chrissy too with her sudden joy.

Chrissy giggles, going along with it, “I am?”

“Uh, yes! It’s perfect!” Heather scoots closer until they’re shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the ceiling together. She talks with her hands, like she’s painting the picture for her. “Don’t /cheer/ his name. /Wear/ it.”

Only, Chrissy doesn’t think she gets it, “...How?”

“His varsity jacket! If a boy gives you his varsity jacket, it’s serious business. They protect those damn things like a firstborn daughter. If you can get Billy to give you his jacket, you might as well be hitched!” Heather explains, a ball of enthusiasm.

Chrissy knows her longing heart starts racing, probably obvious to Heather too this close together, “You actually think that would work?”

Heather flips up so she’s sitting, burning some of her energy in her dramatic motions, “Duh! You show up to a game repping his varsity, baby, that deal is sealed. I’m talking a proposal at the end-zone. A wedding between quarters. I’m talkin’ baby-making under the bleachers-“

Chrissy, face as hot pink as her pj tank top, interrupts all that, “Okay! Okay. That’s… I get it.”

“Do I make you blush, fair lady?” Heather drawls, in an impression of a boy, eyebrow arched, chest puffed out, lips curled, her voiced dropped ridiculously deep-

Chrissy covers her face, trying desperately not to laugh at the ridiculous attempt, “Heatherrr!!”

Heather clutches her chest like she’s wounded, taking on a sort of accent almost from how badly she’s doing her impression, “Ah! My apologies, maiden. How ungentlemanly of me.”

“Nobody talks like that! /Billy/ doesn’t talk like that!!” Chrissy argues, though she giggles at the unseriousness of it all. So it took a while, but Heather always does know how to make her feel better.

They drop the boy talk for a while, choosing to sneak downstairs and grab some snacks at two in the morning once Heather’s parents were definitely asleep, coming back up with a strange homemade trail mix. Dark chocolate chips, raisins, pretzels, almonds and strawberries. Certainly nothing outside of Chrissy’s comfort zone, careful not to push the limits of her recovery, though it’ll probably give them both a stomachache in a few hours regardless.

Leaned against some bean bag chairs right under the open window, enjoying the birdsong and cricket chirps, they share their homemade creation, and better, more smiles and lighthearted stories. Like they used to, before highschool drama and all.

Nearing 4, Heather turns to her, uncharacteristically dead serious, and declares, “I hope he makes you this happy.”

The realness inspires Chrissy to do the prying now, switching roles, hoping her friend will open up to her in kind, “Does Jason make you happy?”

“/Jason/ does. Our parents practically arranging for us to be married from the time we were newborns, hm not so much.” Heather sighs, drawing her knees in. She doesn’t quite shut down, it’s more for comfort, self assurance, which Chrissy understands. She gives her space to collect her thoughts.

“He’s my guy best friend. And I love him. In more than the best friend way. It’d be stupid not to end up together. But god there’s so much pressure!”

“I think you should do the jacket thing too.” Chrissy offers carefully, “I’m doing it to prove /my/ date isn’t a one-hit creep. You can do it just to remind yourself why you love your boy. And that he loves you. ‘Cause I know he does, Heather. But I know you’re afraid he doesn’t.”

Heather has tears in her eyes and a sad smile when she looks at Chrissy, “What is with you quiet girls and secretly being psychics?”

Oh how Chrissy wished she truly were a psychic.

At the beginning, she wasn’t nervous at all. Her and Heather bullshitted all the time, it wasn’t anything serious. But they’re all four on a date, wandering downtown around the various second hand stores, a typical stop for one couple, and the complete opposite for the others.

Seemed as good a time as any to go through with their silly plan, it wasn’t like it would hurt anything. Except she’d tried all kinds of things to get Billy to give her his jacket, and so far, none of them worked even a little! Not browsing through a selection of jackets at the stores, not shivering dramatically, not clinging to his side either.

Chrissy felt a chip in her little heart every time, feeling like maybe Heather was right. All over a jacket. She’d have her heart broken for a little bit of wool and leather.

With her boyfriend's name on it. Her boyfriend who actually holds her hand, and tells her she’s pretty, and doesn’t creep his hands under his skirt constantly.

She doesn’t know if she could get over losing that.

Her gait down the strip is admittedly less spirited, lingering behind Heather and Jay, but Billy never leaves her behind. He engages her in conversation too, hair blowing all over the place around his face, “How the fuck do you go outside in this shit?”

Chrissy looks at him, wearing an amused little smile, “Like, ever?”

“Yeah /ever/, Princess.” Billy sarcastically, but lightheartedly bumps her shoulder lightly with his arm, “Jesus, I should take you to California. Gonna miss winters without tiny fucking knives falling from the sky.”

Heather doesn’t lose track of that comment for a minute. Excited for Chrissy, she tries to plant the seed for their plan,

“What’s the matter, Billy? You too cold?”

“Hell no. But I’m not a chick the size of a baby deer.” Billy remarks, taking the bait perfectly well, rubbing Chrissy’s arms and feeling how cold she is, “Shit, you’re fucking frozen, Chris. Here.”

And without even thinking he peels off his varsity jacket and starts to hand it over.

Used to the cold, and despite her excitement wanting to make sure Billy doesn’t get uncomfortable, Chrissy protests, “No, no, no. Keep it. I can’t let your California sunshine freeze over.”

Billy disregards that, slinging it over her shoulders anyways, “Yeah, well I’m not letting all the fuckin’ little pixies that fly around your head freeze to death either.”

Jason scoffs at him, turning around to walk backwards with the group, teasing, “Dude, what does that even mean?”

Without even looking Heather flicks his ear, getting his attention back, “Just because you don’t understand romance doesn’t mean nobody can.”

He looks at her like a kicked puppy, but Jason is nothing if not stubborn, “Pixies? Sunshine? What happened to- beautiful and charming and butterflies in the stomach?”

“I don’t know, Jason. Maybe you should fall in love again and find out.”

“Who would I fall in love with? Nobody can beat you, Holloway.”

Heather rolls her eyes, flicking her hair like an agitated horse would it’s tail, “Ah, see you almost got a couple points there. Almost. You’re in the negatives though for using my last name.”

He tries to recover it suavely, “I could call you Carver instead?”

But that isn’t Heather's way. She counters intensely, “No. I’m not being a child bride, thank you very much. Besides, who says I’m taking your name? Maybe I could call you Holloway.”

“The.. I- Okay.” Jason just sputters, turning pink up to his ears.

Behind them, still lingering a good ways back, Chrissy hums, warm and cozy in her boyfriend’s jacket, “What are they even arguing about?”

Billy laughs about that, shrugs his shoulders, “Hell if I know. They lost me a long time ago.”

“It’s funny. Heather didn’t think you were good for me, but she fights with Jason all the time.” Chrissy informs him.

Billy stops dead in his tracks. Gently uses his hold on Chrissy's hand to spin her around to face him as he fell behind,

“Hold on. Take a step back. Heather thinks /what/ about me?”

Chrissy’s nerves spike so quickly she gets a little dizzy, “Please don't take it personally. I want my two favorite people to like each other. Please.”

Her beau steadies her, instead of freaking out, “No problem. I just find it.. fuckin’ weird.”

“It’s because of the way you drive. And smoke. And act. She thinks it’s bad for me.” Chrissy blurts, knowing it’s unkind but needing him to believe that she had no part in it.

He doesn’t seem too phased by having Heather’s disapproval, apparently learning faster than most people do, “Big fucking deal. At least you know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.” Chrissy nods her assurance, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Billy’s cheek and seal the promise.

“Right. Tell her she’s the one making Jason cry his damn eyes out the second he gets tipsy on a sip of anything stronger than a fuckin’ soda pop. I’m tellin’ you, Holloway has ripped out his heart and shoved it up his own pansy ass.” Billy sounds bitter, but not overly mean.

It’s something he’s thought about before. Good to know the gossip street goes both ways.

It’s why Chrissy doesn’t feel too bad telling Billy now, “She doesn’t mean to. I think she’s scared.”

“Sacred of Carver?…. He hurt her?” His voice drops, as angry and mean as Heather warned her about.

They don’t talk much about serious things, serious isn’t their kind of fun, but Chrissy knows about Billy’s life at home. About the type of man Billy could’ve been destined to be.

She rushes to make sure he doesn’t turn on his own friend for thinking Jason was the same way, “Oh no! No, not at all. Never. It’s her mom and her daddy. They sort of forced her to date Jason. She wasn’t ready. I think she’s ready now and doesn’t want to admit it. ‘Cause that would be like taking their orders.”

“Fuckin’ parents.” Billy eventually grumbles, not knowing what else to say.

It seems to be a common theme in their group. A bonding experience for all four of them, whether or not they’re open about it.

Chrissy doesn’t really feel like talking about that stuff anymore, sort of just mumbling, “Yeah.”

Because Billy is perfect, and none of the things Heather says at all, and the actual bullies in their lives makes her want to just hide. Billy notices the drop in her mood, and silently slings an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as they walk. Keeping her close. Safe.

Maybe someday things will work out beyond Hawkins. They have to. Winning the jacket was a silly, small victory, but it was a step.

Now Chrissy just wants, more than anything, her friends to be happy.

She holds onto Billy’s hand a little tighter.

The next time Heather and Jason get together, it’s for a study date at the end of that week. With Heather being a year above, the only class they have in common is the Biology two class Heather failed last year. There’s coloring sheets of bones and cells to be completed, so it’s not like they need each other’s help, but sitting on Heather’s bed coloring with colored pencils didn’t seem like a bad deal either way.

At some point, surrounded by all the color, Heather realizes something,

“Honey. We’re going shopping this weekend.”

Jason barely looks up from his work, focused on being neat close to the lines, “For?”

“Clothes. You’ve worn three white polos this week. I’m bringing some color into your life.” Heather pokes him with the flat end of the white pencil for emphasis.

Jason blinks, caught off his guard, “I wear green sometimes.”

“School colors don’t count. Yellow either.”

“I think I have, maybe, /one/ blue shirt.”

Heather digs in the pile for a turquoise-ish pencil, “Blue! Blue’s.. good! That’s definitely on God’s rainbow. Maybe a nice pair of blue jeans too, for once-“

That’s where Jason cuts it off. Because that’s where Heather went from playfully sharp to flat-out insulting, “Heather, please.”

She stays on the defensive, “I’m just saying. There’s nothing wrong with branching out from your choir boy uniform. That’s all.”

Sometimes it’s like she thinks if she pokes a bruise enough, it’ll make her seem like she’s strong enough to cause them. Like she’s all in charge and nothing can stop her.

Jason doesn’t want to stop her, he just wants her basic respect, “So what do you suggest?”

Not even sarcastic, just genuinely enthusiastic to share, Heather starts, “Pastels! Your hair is way too strawberry to be a dark dresser. Unless you go with emeralds, no more tacky green. Ooh, or even if you grow it out some! You know, actually-“

Jason runs his fingers over his neatly parted hair, protecting it, not hiding the concerned squeak to his voice, “No thank you, I happen to like my hair short.”

“Again, baby. Boring.” Heather just rolls her eyes, once again. Sometimes it’s like that’s all she knows how to do.

It stings.

“Look, if nothing I do is ever going to be good enough-“

Heather doesn't entertain that in the least. She slaps her hand over his homework page, making him look at her, “It’s not /you/. You know that it’s not you.”

No, he didn’t know that. Jason looks at her, confused, “What?”

“Just because you dress yourself, and you drive your stupid little station wagon around parading your image, doesn’t mean there’s not that voice in the back of your head. Maybe… maybe a tight fist too. Telling you what to do. You’re afraid.” Heather talks with her hands, just enough that Jason can see through it.

That she’s being showy to hide something.

Doesn’t mean he’s not been rendered self conscious and bare-souled all the same. He doesn’t like that, even after months with Heather not feeling safe showing her all his tender parts like that, “I don’t want to hear this from you.”

“Oh, so a girl can’t have opinions, huh? I should just spread my legs now and let something else do all the talking?” Heather heats the argument.

Jason just lets his head fall back, frustrated, “I don’t- You /know/ I don’t want that.”

“Oh please do enlighten me then, your graciousness.” Heather forces what Jason is thinking out of him.

So he lets it go, without regard to her feelings, even though he hadn’t wanted to, “Look, I’m not stupid. I know your parents are a problem, Heather. Everyone that’s read the paper knows Tom Holloway isn’t a kind man. You try to hide it, but you can’t keep it from me. And you can’t- just take it all out on me!”

“I wasn’t-“ Heather tries to backpedal.

He still doesn’t let her, “You were! You always have! Nobody has the key to the lock on your heart, but I’ve been trying anyways. And you just shut. me. down!”

“Jason…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry we didn’t meet for real until high school. I’m sorry I can’t save you because I’ve got my own.. shit to deal with. But, and forgive me for using His name in vain, Jesus fucking Christ Heather!”

“Jason..” Heather repeats, clearly more misty eyed than before, and opens her arms. A hug is letting him in physically, letting him get close even when the words aren’t easy.

Mostly, she hadn’t realized Jason could read her as easily as she could read him.

He takes the vulnerability to mean it’s safe to say, “I love you.”

“I know.” Is Heather’s response. It’s not easy to say it back, not when she chokes on it every time she tries to say it to her ‘problems,’ let alone a highschool boyfriend she was never supposed to fall for, not in her own heart.

It’s enough. Jason keeps holding her, lips against her shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

Heather repeats herself, “I know.”

Nothing else felt right to say. Because she /was/ sorry too, but saying it second would feel ingenuine. At least, she’d read it that way.

She closes her eyes and feels exhausted. It’s not supposed to be this hard. Their school years are drawing to a close, and yet she can’t even admit her own parents treat her like shit.

Maybe a silent tear drop or two drips off the end of her nose behind Jason’s back. If he noticed, he didn’t say a word.

After a while, Heather needs to do something, sitting and thinking and regretting not doing anything to help, “Can we call Chrissy and Billy and go get some ice cream or something?”

“Sure. I think I owe that to you for keeping myself so.. alone.” Jason admits, bashful but genuine.

And isn’t that just the thing. Heather gives him a tiny smile back, “Ditto, baby.”

Ice cream ran into the evening, all of them itching for an excuse to stay out. Chrissy was the last to finish her bowl of two raspberry scoops with sprinkles, half of it melted into sludge by the last spoonful, and even that’s not a distraction enough.

It’s early spring, which means, as the group informed Billy, that the Hawkins drive-in theater was opening back up. Nobody even needed to discuss it to know that’s what they wanted to do. There were a variety of chick-flicks and even more horror sequels in the box office, which meant the two week delay at the drive-in would make for some good choices at least. Most Hawkins residents would take their trucks out there, not some prissy little station wagon, but it would do.

At least, it should, but Billy started getting impatient with cruising along under the speed limit out to the wooded hill where the drive-in is, “Can’t this piece of shit go faster?”

Heather turned around slightly to face and scold him, “Well, we coulda brought yours if you hadn’t decided to buy the extra tiny, no room for fun model.”

Billy just snorted humorlessly, “We could fit if there was any actual fun going on. Leaving room for the Lord or whatever is what fucks it up.”

For that comment, knowing their company, Chrissy pushed Billy’s arm gently. Still, she didn’t seem to disagree too harshly, since she smiled through when he kissed her next.

Heather seemed irritated, though that tends to be her default honestly, as she huffed, “Not everyone’s a sleaze like you, Hargrove. Get used to it.”

Billy hadn’t even justified it with a response, just waved her off and used the same arm to swing it over the seat behind Chrissy. She was wearing his jacket again, hadn’t taken it off all week, curled into his side and wearing his name. In that bubbly way she does, she was also wiggling her hands about, not nervous, but happy.

Content.

Heather and Jason still had a ways to go to reach contentment.

The pair stay in the car for the movie, their counterparts in a blanket on the grass instead. Cali boy is out there freezing his ass off, but he’d said anything would be better than being trapped with relationship drama.

Heather and Jason try to ignore him.

They fail.

Jason turns to her not even a full twenty minutes after that comment starts working it’s way under his skin, “Heather?”

“Hm?” She hums to show she’s listening, but doesn’t look his way.

That’s not enough for what needs to be said, so he repeats, “Heather.”

“Yeah, that’s me. You need something?”

“I wanted- I just…. I’m sorry.”

Her pretty features screw up in confusion, “For what?”

“For not being good enough.” Jason informs, like it was the most clear thing, “You’d be happier with a guy like Billy. Maybe you could call up Steve-“

“No, fuck you if you think I could ever leave you.” She spits.

And then she grabs Jason by the collar of his polo and kisses him.

It’s nothing chaste, nothing at all like their usual peck of the lips. This is roaming tongues and hands.

Heather reigns herself in when she feels Jason’s hands, holding her hips up under the back of her shirt, shaking.

“I’m not gonna make you do anything. Sex isn’t my endgame.”

He sort of freezes, like it hadn’t occurred to him that Heather wouldn’t mind helping him in his devotion to modesty, “So what is?”

“An apartment. Maybe get a cat. I want to share a space with you long before we do marriage shit.” Heather explains lightly, smile on her face.

Jason relaxes his shoulders, “Make it a dog and we’ll see. Dogs are better.”

“Oh, ha-ha. Make it one of each and I’ll forgive you for that comment.”

Heather kisses him again, without any heat or intensity this time, just gentle, soft affection. She even lets him touch her hair, despite usually slapping his hands away for that. It helps that she’d brushed it out to be restyled before bed tonight, but still, she would have let him even if her curls were laying perfect.

When they pull away, Heather lays her head on Jason’s shoulder. Instead of watching Cat’s Eye on the screen, her gaze falls to their friends huddled up outside, and she muses, “How much you wanna bet Chrissy and Billy run away into the sunset?”

“I hope they do. Hawkins is Hell on earth.” Jason asserts, clearly serious because he usually wouldn’t even mention a place like that.

Heather sighs slightly, “Literally. The kidnappings, the murders. I can’t take much more of it.”

Confident, Jason says, “I’m sure they’d make room for us then. If we wanted to go with them.”

That has Heather sitting up straighter, surprised, “You would live in California?”

Sunny skies, living free- it didn’t seem very much his pace. The order and the mundanity of Midwestern life seemed better for Jason.

He just shrugs for now, “Who knows? We’ll see when we get there.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Heather wonders aloud, as she knows it, finding that Jason prefers to have his entire life planned out.

He only sounds a little tense as he tries to sound brave and strong, “Getting there.”

The tension between them had to have been coming from there. She wanted nothing more than to rebel and escape, while he, even when he was feeling crushed by the weight of parental disapproval, was nothing short of desperate to be back in their graces.

If Heather could be more open to discussion when that made her uncomfortable, and Jason less complicit to begin with, the pair would probably be on the right path again.

She lays her head on him again, and this time, Jason takes his arm out of one sleeve of his varsity jacket, slinging it around her like a blanket. Her heart absolutely soars. The promise to Chrissy was fulfilled, she and her honey were working out just fine now, after she’d gotten Billy’s jacket.

That’s gotta be a sign that things will work out for Heather too.

“Hey, Jason?”

“Hm?”

She feels compelled to finally confess, “I love you.”

It’s Jason this time who, after a soft little kiss to her forehead, says, “I know.”

[subjecta5newtella]

some nalby for @mazerunner-rarepairs month - AU square

It’s late evening after a light post-season practice, and Alby and Newt are headed for the dining hall when Minho catches up with them. 

“Alby!” he calls, jogging over and blocking their exit from the soccer fields. 

Alby sighs. “What?”

“Three of the freshmen challenged Thomas and I to a scrimmage, and everyone else has already left.”

“I’ve already cooled down, I’m not going to start running again.”

“Aw, come on. Thomas and I could beat them two-on-three, but that’ll damage their morale.”

“Call someone else back, then. I’m done for the day.”

Technically, he’s done in general. He’s a graduating senior who doesn’t have to come to practice at all anymore, but as the outgoing captain, he still feels a sense of responsibility. And maybe he’s not quite ready to let go, but that’s another thing entirely. Still, he draws the line at getting all sweaty again because of Minho’s pride or whatever. 

In a stunning display of self-restraint, Minho concedes that battle, then turns. “Hey, Newt?”

“What?”

“If we all promise to go easy on you, do you wanna join?”

Alby catches the exact moment when something sparks to life in Newt’s eyes.

It’s probably a bad idea. Newt can run on his bad leg, but only short distances, and his ankle and hip both have a tendency to hurt the next day. The shift in his balance makes dribbling more challenging than it used to be—he can do it, but it’s not the simple thing it once was. Newt knows all that intimately, of course, but Alby also knows he misses soccer like nothing else, had spent an evening on the bathroom floor in tears between bouts of throwing up vodka on the anniversary of the day he’d been told he’d never play competitively again. He’s a student coach now, and a damn good one in Alby’s (admittedly biased) opinion, but that’s far from the same. 

“You’ll go easy on me, eh?” Newt says, with a smile that looks a little dangerous.

“Well, you know, it’s been a while, we don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to convince me to play against you.”

“Aw, come on. The freshmen are getting way too cocky.”

“Fine. But if you mention anything about going easy on me again, I’m betraying you and joining them.”

He hands his backpack over to Alby, who can’t help but say, “Be careful.”

Newt rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine.” He jogs out onto the field, managing his limp with relative smoothness.

Thomas does a little bit of a double take when he sees Newt joining them, but he drops back to take up a position on his right. He’d played right midfielder when he’d transferred to their school, before Newt had moved him to the left to cover a skill gap, and that combination of Thomas and Minho on their left flank had scored them the game winning goal in conference championships. 

It’s not just Alby’s biased opinion, really. Newt’s a good coach. He’s already gotten an offer to stay on next year as a paid position, and he’s probably going to take it, which means Alby needs to find a job here, even though neither of them have actually talked about that out loud. It’s the two of them. It’ll always be the two of them. 

A couple minutes into the scrimmage, Newt strips the ball from George and sends it up to Minho to do the rest of the running, and in that fast, fluid movement, Alby remembers the way he used to be. Starting lineup, number five, center forward. Quick. Vicious. Glorious. Other teams complained about facing him, and every time they did, Alby felt a stab of pride. People watched him, people admired him, but there were times when Newt would pull off something impossible and look back with a smile that was sharp and wild and beautiful and Alby had known it was for him.

Alby loves this version of Newt without question and he knows he will for the rest of his life, but sometimes it’s hard not to mourn the way things were supposed to be. It’s selfish, maybe. His life is not the one most affected. Knowing it’s selfish doesn’t stop him from feeling it sometimes, 

Newt’s alive, though, which is something Alby doesn’t take for granted, and in the present moment he’s celebrating Minho’s goal. It’s a little tasteless, maybe, but it’s also their first time playing together since sophomore year and they’ve already scored, so they might be entitled.

The game continues and Alby loses himself in it, watching the way Newt and Minho click back into being a solid offensive unit, how Thomas works well with the two of them even in a position that he hasn’t played in a while. It’s easy to forget that he and Newt have never actually played together. They’re a good team. They could’ve been a great one, but that’s the kind of unproductive reasoning Alby tries to shut down whenever Newt gets caught up in it, so he does his best to close it off within himself as well. 

After about ten minutes, Newt slows, then stops, mimes bowing out. He joins Alby on the sidelines as the others keep messing around, retying his hair as he does. “Can’t keep up with the youth anymore.”

“Hurt?”

“Nah. Just old. No stamina anymore.”

Alby’s not sure he believes that, because Newt’s barely even breathing hard, but Alby lets it go because he also doesn’t look like he’s in pain, either. He’ll take an excuse over a breaking point any day.

“You looked good out there,” Alby says, handing Newt’s backpack back to him. 

Newt gives him a sarcastic little salute. “Thanks, Captain. I was awaiting your approval.”

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Newt says, then after a moment adds, “Thanks.”

Things will never be what they used to be. It’s a waste of time to pretend otherwise. But he has Newt, and Newt has him, and they’ll get through together. They always do. 

Alby laces his fingers through Newt’s, and they head off for dinner. 

[lily-alphonse]

I want to see a Emily/Sandy plss

Emily and Sandy are another that are canon in my heart. They make so much sense. (Me when Emily talks about her “friend” in the desert) :

I headcanon Sandy as having a rough upbringing and an even rougher life as an adult, pulled into a shady life running a store that is nothing more than a money-laundering scheme and coverup. There are parts of her life that are/were downright disturbing. Things that have made her strong, she’s a survivor after all. But things anyone would understandably want to forget.

Emily lets her forget. She can get lost in Emily, her Stardew Valley rose.

They can go for long periods without seeing each other. In those long months Sandy thumbs the blue quartz around her neck that Emily had given her. It’s meant to be soothing, something her aura needed. But its also the closest approximation to a mermaid pendant Sandy would ever get.

Sandy wouldn’t have accepted a real mermaid pendant. Not that she wouldn’t have wanted to. But life isn’t that simple, and they both know that.

When they do see each other, it’s like they’re kids again, since neither of them ever really got to be kids. (ft. Parentified Emily)

They play dress-up, and do each other’s hair. They use gel pens to draw on each other’s skin, the colors bleeding and mixing in the shower. One time, Emily didn’t wash one of Sandy’s drawings off, and got it tattooed.

It almost ruined everything. This was supposed to be an escape. Something impermanent and fleeting and beautiful. In a way, Sandy had never really considered the permanence of her fingerprints on Emily’s skin.

She didn’t want to be permanent anywhere. Emily still didn’t even know her real name. But she knew her soul. And maybe that was a problem, but it was too late for either of them. They were so intertwined now, that if Sandy disappeared Emily might even come looking for her. That’s what scared her the most, Emily ending up putting herself in harm’s way for her.

She thought about breaking her heart to push her back to safety. But in a selfish way, she couldn't. She was too happy when they were together. So she went back to her, and kissed Emily's arm where it was tattooed, and colored the doodle differently each time they saw each other.

Do they get to be happy though? Does something happen to one of them? I don't know.

I feel like I missed talking about the actual dynamic of their relationship. Emily sees Sandy as a Cool Girl (TM) and was immediately drawn to her for it, as someone always on the fringes of what can be considered cool. Something that was weird on Emily was avant-garde on Sandy. So having her attention was a big deal. Sandy sees Emily as this bright star in a dark world, largely unphased by it all. She is always smiling and seeing the bright side of everything. In their own ways, they are both survivors striving to protect each other, and be the light the other person needs.

I love them your honor

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[sojirosteacup]

The (possible) origins of the Mori/Haruhi rumor

Or, I take a look at four different language versions of Mori's character profile to try to debunk this rumor.

You guys probably know the rumor that goes like "Tamaki wasn't supposed to end up with Haruhi, it was going to be Mori, but Tamaki became more popular and the mangaka changed her mind"

Like many others in this fandom, I'm tired of people blindly believing it so I was trying to write a post about how I think this rumor started. I was originally going to focus more on the "it changed because Tamaki became popular" part, because I felt that the "Mori was supposed to be endgame" part of the rumor had already been dissected by other people.

Except when I was I looking for Mori's character profile (the infamous quote that is believed to be the source of it) to use for my post, I found different versions of it depending on the translation. And maybe the "Mori was supposed to be endgame" part needs a bit more dissection, actually.

Especially since I couldn't understand at first why Mori of all hosts is the focus of this rumor, because MoriHaru was pretty much a rarepair before this.

Now I'm going to analyze both the "Mori was supposed to be endgame" part and the "it changed because Tamaki became popular" parts. And I think I may have a pretty good theory for how this rumor started.

Here is my analysis under the cut:

(Beware there are probably some spelling mistakes bc it's 2AM and english is not my native language)

The MoriHaru rumor is widely believed to have come from a quote from Hatori in a manga volume. More exactly, Mori's character profile.

So let's take a look at his character profile for a second.

The English translation that gets passed around goes like this:

"If I leave him alone, he winds up being a 'quiet, sober-faced fellow' so he makes Hatori groan a lot. But his love is vast (laugh), so there's at least an outside chance of Haruhi and Mori becoming a couple."

Here we have what might have confused some people. "Outside chance of Haruhi/Mori becoming a couple" doesn't mean they were supposed to be endgame, it means there is an unlikely chance of them being a couple.

Makes sense people would misread this. But I've always felt it was such a weak sentence to start this entire rumor… especially when there is literally shippy art of Haruhi with every host in the manga. Wouldn't any other character have started a similar rumor? Why would such a weak sentence start something so big?

But I was looking for a clear picture of the English profile to add to my original post idea when I stumbled over the Spanish version. And it got me confused because it was worded differently:

If you don't know Spanish, this is very similar to the English text, except the ending says:

"My (Hatori's) favorite couple is Mori + Haruhi, maybe."

Wait, we have an entirely different sentence here! This one implies Hatori likes MoriHaru more than the other couples, which could point to this being the source of the rumor. But I'm not satisfied. This is not enough. Let's dig deeper.

Spanish is not my native language, so I went to my actual native language, which is Brazilian Portuguese. Fortunately I have the entire collection with me, so I opened volume one to find this:

The first sentence is pretty much the same as the English and Spanish versions, but the rest says "He ends up worrying me, because he gives me the impression he will end up turning the story around. But I like him a lot (laughs). Maybe my favorite couple is Mori and Hani"

And that Hani bit is a fucking mistranslation from the Brazilian Portuguese print! It's supposed to be Haruhi, not Honey. This is the second time I find a mistranslation in this volume! This is why shoujo manga doesn't sell well here, publishers!

But the rest of the text is interesting. He could "turn the story around" (this is the closest translation I can give you for the word "reviravolta"). That means he has the potential to change the plot. Interesting. Seems in line with the rumor of Hatori's plans changing.

Now we have three different translations here, all of them pointing to different things. It's a bit confusing. Which one is the real translation?

But you don't know the depths to my obsession! I do have the first ouran volume in Japanese! And there is no better way to solve this mystery than to look at the original text!

I'm not fluent in Japanese but I have six semesters of beginner level Japanese under my belt + it's 1 AM 2AM and I should be asleep because I'm going to cosplay Tamaki at a con tomorrow + I drank an entire cup of green tea and I'm shaking AND THIS IS THE PERFECT TIME TO FALL IN A TRANSLATION RABBIT HOLE!

Here is a pic of the Japanese text taken straight from the manga:

In the Japanese text, Hatori says Mori/Haruhi (yes, HARUHI, not Honey) is a 大穴 couple. I searched 大穴 on a japanese dictionary app and this is what it means: "Long shot win (in horse racing), big winnings (on a Long shot), a killing (made from a bet)"

So THAT'S probably where it came from. She called MoriHaru an unlikely win and people thought it meant she was planning for him and Haruhi to be a surprise endgame in the long run. Looks similar to the english version, but I feel it has more "winning connotations" here, you know? Add this to the translation calling them Hatori's favorite couple and you have the likely source to the confusion: People thought it was her favorite couple and that it would win in the long run, surprising everyone.

From this to "they were supposed to be endgame but it got changed" it's not a big leap.

I should try translating the rest of the japanese text but let me do it another day when it's not 2AM, thanks

But that does not mean she was planning for them to be canon. If anything it's more likely she didn't know who to ship Haruhi with at first (there are other quotes from the manga that support this or the "Tamaki was always endgame" theory).

So another part of the mystery seems to be solved, but none of this explains the whole popularity part of the rumor. You know, when people say Tamaki became the male lead because he was more popular than Mori.

We know this is highly unlikely because Mori actually got second place at the first popularity pool, losing only to Haruhi. And Tamaki wasn't the only popular character in the group. You can see this in depth in this post by another person.

So where could people have taken that from?

You know which other shoujo fandom has a very similar rumor? Boys over flowers (a.k.a. Hana Yori Dango a.k.a. Meteor Garden).

If you are into that manga, you have probably heard that "Tsukasa wasn't supposed to be the male lead, Rui was. But Tsukasa won the first popularity pool and the mangaka changed her mind."

(Listen, I'm a huge boys over flowers fan but I'm not sure if this is true in this fandom either. I'm not a huge interview reader, so if anyone has a source where Kamio says this, please send it to me.)

But in boys over flowers case it at least makes a bit more sense! Tsukasa did win the first popularity contest (Rui got third place). And I've seen this rumor on bof fansites from the 90s/early 00s, so this one has a higher chance of being true compared to the ouran one.

Honestly, the first time I heard the Mori rumor my first reaction was "???? I've heard this before in another fandom????"

So my guess is that the rumor about Boys Over Flowers somehow jumped to Ouran. But how did people mix up completely unrelated series from different mangaka and magazines? It's not that hard to imagine. They are both popular reverse harem series with the same basic concept (poor girl in rich school with rich boys).

My guess is that someone saw the Mori thing and thought "oh, so it's like boys over flowers where the male lead changed because the other was more popular" and it snowballed from this.

Again, I could be wrong and maybe there is a Hatori quote somewhere on the internet proving the rumor. But for now, I'm going to believe it's a mix of mistranslations/misinterpretations and people jumping to conclusions.

(And this is not an attack on people who ship MoriHaru, btw. Ship whatever you want. This is just about the rumor)

[lilac-hecox]

When I saw that new discord created just for "rarepairs" I definitely got the vibe that its targeted towards the ianthony fandom in disguise. It's a shame that this fandom felt already so divided with one part of the fandom not giving smosh main channel or sketches a chance on smosh reddit and now same bad vibes are being bought on smoshblr. honestly it's giving "Oh I am not like others, I'm different" syndrome. It's completely alright to not connect with something, but to actively talk shit about it in fandom spaces and putting other creatives down who produce fan-content related to that is next level of weird. If you don't like something why are you even engaging with that piece of content? it's like those high school bullies. I'm sorry for this rant but it's really sad to see people dragging others down over *checks notes* fanfiction. like it's supposed to be something lighthearted and way of expression. And to these people acting holier than thou over a fanfic, while themselves dabbling with rpf which is itself a polarizing thing doesn't make sense. creating a whole server just to be a hater is crazy.

I think you're right and the server was born from a hate of the 'main' ship in our fandom and not created to celebrate the rare pairings in the fandom. Even so, to devote a whole channel so shitting on a pairing seems like too much to me, but again, if people don't like Ianthony, it is their prerogative and I was told by several members that the ianthony bashing was in good fun and for the most part I believe that. I think that the creator had some bad vibes and motives behind the server and kind of used it to further their own agenda.

I think a rare pair server is a really good idea but just less toxic. I was talking to @punk-gremlin about potentially making one (but tbh I do not have time to be a moderator so I would need a trusted moderator).

I will say though I saw others who also thought the server was for celebrating rare pairs and not tearing down the popular ones. When I addressed the issues with the creator I was told, "Well, you're an ianthony person i didn't think you would join the server." but the server isn't marketed as an anti-ianthony server, its a rare pairs server and I enjoy rare pairs like Amanda/Ian, Amanda/Shayne, etc.

Anyways, yes, tl;dr its okay to like and celebrate rare pairs, its okay to not like or be tired of the main pairing in the fandom, not okay to bully others in public spaces though.

Would anyone be interested in being a mod for a rare pair server that is made and not toxic?

[mirrortouchedsea]

ES Rarepair Week Day 4: Angst

This one is kind offffff a continuation of this fic that i've been meaning to get back to. There's scenes between that one and this one that I want to write eventually but just know that they're connected. CW for character death and Mikejima typical family issues

---

Shu hadn’t been in this hospital room in almost three years. The last time, Maguro seemed to be on the up and up, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something he was missing. Maguro, the girl he had been watching over, was fine, her illness was no longer getting the best of her and she had stopped being able to see Shu at their last meeting. Her brother on the other hand, that pesky Madara Mikejima, had stopped coming to the hospital room as well, though Shu had sensed him in the hallway on more than one occasion. 

Shu had come to check on Maguro, who was now 16 years old, only to find her brother in the hospital room once again. He looked all the worse for wear, kneeling on the floor next to her bed, cheeks sunken, clothes sagging on his body that was severely underweight. Mikejima, Shu spoke up, what are you doing? Isn’t it obvious, Madara replied, barely shifting his head to look at Shu, I’ve been doing this for her. What do you mean ‘this’. I… Oh. 

Oh. Shu was hit with the realization. You’ve been giving away your life force, but why. I couldn’t let my sister die like that, alone, in the hospital without anyone to look after her, isn’t that what big brothers are supposed to do? You might be the only big brother to give up your life force itself for your sister, aren’t you worried about what will happen to her when you’re gone? Yeah, it gave me nightmares as a kid but this is for the best, and since God isn’t real, someone has to protect her. Does your family know? I haven’t spoken to them in months, not since, well, I’m sure you’ll hear soon enough. 

Shu could see that Madara’s life was fading rapidly and he’d be dead before long, and Shu would have to usher him to the afterlife. Are you scared of dying? I accepted long ago that I’d die young. That’s not what I asked, I want to know if you’re scared of dying. Madara turned away, his hands covered Maguro’s and squeezed them gently, or maybe it was simply due to how far along he was that he couldn’t squeeze any harder. I don’t want her to see me like this, can we do this somewhere else? You won’t make it out of the hospital in that state. That’s alright, as long as Maguro-chan isn’t the one to find me. Fine, I can at least grant you that. 

The two of them exited the room and Madara immediately collapsed, the door barely closed behind him. Shu-san, it’s been a while since we’ve talked like this huh. What’s got you acting so sentimental? You act like the dying aren’t the most sentimental people alive. Well, you would be right that we haven’t talked since you were what, sixteen yourself? That was when I discovered I could transfer my life to Maguro-chan and I… I was scared of losing her, the world can live without someone like me but she deserves the world. What makes you say that? Shu could sense Madara’s soul was preparing to leave his body, but he kept the conversation going. I’ve done horrible, horrible things, things you only associate with the dregs of society, all for her, and I’d do it again, that’s the thing isn’t it, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant that she’d be okay. Madara’s body shuddered. I’m ready, Shu-san, whenever you want to take me, just make it painless. 

Shu couldn’t control when Madara died, but he could pretend, hold his hand and coax him into that deep slumber until his soul separated from his body. The hospital staff were busy in other wings but his body would be found by the morning. As much as Madara had gotten on his nerves, Shu couldn’t just leave him to die completely alone and have a stranger usher him to the afterlife, not when Shu was right there. When Madara’s soul finally separated from his body, Shu pulled him to his feet. You’ve died, alone, in the hallway of a hospital. I know. Were you satisfied with the life you’ve led? Yes. 

[kurtmustdie]

caught up with cringetober because I literally forgot to do it, individuals and explanations under cut

Day 1: Heterochromia I’ve come to the revaluation that my sona is already cringe as hell considering not only can his entire body change color but he also has differently colored eyes as a staple of his design. They’re usually yellow and blue but this time I color picked the blue from the trans flag and the mint from the Vincian flag for this color palette, it turned out really pretty :)

Day 2: Self Insert Now she isn’t my self insert anymore, but back in the day when I was at “peak cringe” she definitely was. This is my warriors OC Icypelt and I have a post going over part of her story on my profile somewhere. She’s been through a lot and I think her modern design is very pretty :)

Day 3: Unnecessarily complex fit/design Spider scene is kinda infamous in my brain for having wayyy too much detail but I love them and I think this might be my favorite one out of this batch, super cute, the pose is really cute and the colors are nice and fits her really well :D

day 4: Angel x Devil inevitable MCR reference ik, Helena and Revenge, love them dearly. Poor revenge man this one is cute and looks like a sticker!!

Day 6 (I skipped day 5 because I didn’t want to open up ms paint today): neko i kinda hate this one but cat Gerard yay

Day 7: Pinterest base at first I wanted to draw hobie in place of Gwen but I remembered that I haven’t really drawn Mikey with her even though they’re supposed to be friends so I drew her instead. Idk. The height difference is not accurate because of that but Jumping Spider is small because he’s based on a jumping spider and those are tiny who would have thought

Day 8: tumblr sexyman i have never played undertale a day in my life i just know a lot of people wanted to jump sans’ bones

day 9: Crossover ship/rarepair OH BOY THIS ONE GOES KIND OF HARD AND IM EMBARRASSED ABOUT IT BECAUSE THEY KIND OF WORK FOR EACH OTHER UM MIGUEL OHARA X CLOTTED CREAM COOKIE IM INSANE OMG-

day 10: fursona i already have a fursona I already drew and yes I colorpicked from the lesbian flag how could you tell /j

Day 11: Yandere LYLA is technically canonically a yandere because spoiler alert she tried to kill Miguel’s fiancé via overheating her in the shower (essentially literally boiling her like a lobster) because she was “in love” with him (she said if she did have autonomy and had feelings the would be in love with him but she doesn’t but idk who knows I don’t).

day 12: niche interest ik MCR isn’t exactly “niche” but the black parades story in particular has always caught my interest and I have my own interpretation of it and a whole kind of story I’m still developing and character arcs and headcanons and interactions and yeah you get it, death in particular has evolved into god knows an OC on his own I just keep him attached to MCR because… it makes more sense that way, ig-

day 13: creepypasta does this count- whatever grimdark is just the same thing as a creepypasta- I’m not really in the MLP fandom anymore but it was my first ever “fandom” I was actually apart of. My first hyperfixation if you will. I wasn’t in the grimdark part of the fandom because I was too young for it but I was actually watching the izzzyzzz grimdark video and I was like “oh” and drew a rainbow factory Rainbowdash. Honestly I should draw ponies more they’re fun to draw

Day 14: candygore (?) im not good at drawing candygore and since I was rushing this o didn’t do it as well as I thought I can, but it still turned out pretty cool

Day 15: song lyrics aaaa inevitable hesitant alien drawing this one turned out so cute!! The colors and the sparkle eek so cute aaa action cat lyrics I’m breaking down right in front of you I’m sorry

planning on doing the rest of the month now, maybe not exactly on time since I’m still in school but I’ll try to get 31 drawings out by Halloween. Love the idea of cringetober because I just love all things cringe. Ack this is so good