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mixtapedoh · 6 months

Note

How about lonely boy, lee know, and forced proximity?

@eclliipsed — i am thinking of you, specifically while writing this <3

;༊ — lonely boy

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader genre: fluff, office setting word count: ~3.6k warnings: language, situational stress, han is here stirring the pot, a startling amount of homicide jokes

olive’s notes: a unique challenge of writing lino fic that i did not before account for or even conceptualize is that when i think of said silly little stray kids cat boy, i think of him almost 99% of the time as 'lino' and like 0.9999999999% of the time as 'lee know'. lee minho? you mean the actor? it's not clicking up here, asdfghj. all that's to say, if i make a mistake and call him lino instead of minho, i'm so sorry, feel free to stone me in the square on whatever day is most convenient for you <3.

☄. *. ⋆ lee minho x forced proximity...

— society, as a collective, just loves their 9 to 5, right?

i mean, if it were actually a 9 to fucking 5, maybe you wouldn't be screaming, crying, throwing up, gnawing on the iron bars of your enclosure.

— but haha, as a general rule (collectively agreed upon at some point, or perhaps no one agreed so much as they were browbeaten into submission), more than society loves their 9 to 5, they love their workplace grindset culture.

gotta get those financial gains, amirite?

— which is all to say, you were simply enamoured, quite totally besotted with, completely captivated by and hopelessly devoted to your demanding, grueling, parasitic life-force of an office job.

and people had the gall to say you didn't have romance in your life.

clearly, they hadn't seen the zeal and devotion with which you dedicated yourself to your company issued computer, stacks of files, and white-walled cubicle.

after all, regular hours simply weren't enough for all the worship you had within you — you simply had to have both your mandatory overtime and your Implicitly Dictated and Oh-So-Reasonably Expected overtime hours as well <3 you did want to keep your job after all, and job security is such a silly little thing <3 corporate culture really is just soooo romantic in that regard <3 complete and utter devotion <3 commitment almost pious <3

until you managed to break away from the curse of Living in a Society and could live without bills, debt, responsibilities, more bills, more debt, and the desire for silly little (but financially substantial) hobbies to make this existence of yours worthwhile, your love affair with your job would simply have to stick.

— which made for the perfect little soup you were currently mired in. a thick broth of learned helplessness seasoned with intense loathing, a dash of interest in low stakes coworker drama, a sprinkling of compulsory people pleasing, a garnish of yes man energy, and an optional mix-in of untapped, constantly simmering rage.

so, of course you were best friends with han jisung.

— the universe really did do you a solid when they placed han jisung in the cubicle next to you.

perhaps the only employee that hadn't succumbed to the incessant humanity-sucking leech affectionately called a company, jisung was the only one who kept you sane when you were 56 hours deep in your work week and considering moving to a homestead on alaska where you would likely not even last a whole 72 hours — but, hey, you would at least get some sleep at the end of it when succumbing to the effects of hypothermia, so it didn't seem that bad of a gig, really (jisung always offered to cover half of the down payment cost, but at the end of the conversation, he'd just buy you a coffee and the two of you would call it even).

— and being friends with jisung was, all at once, both a blessing and a curse.

(because this is corporate living and existence is a fucking nightmare ~°~♫⭒~꘎ )

— poor excuses for jokes in your company chat box, sticky note battles during days when the mundane tasks you were assigned were mind-numbing enough to fell the strongest of corporate warriors, the constant "i owe you" back and forth when one of you went on a coffee or vending machine run and grabbed something for the other, and, of course, juicy gossip during your lunch break — all of these were the positives of being jisung's partner in captalist crime.

— but on the other hand, should either of your work be wanting in any regard... well... accountability is a word long enough to stretch between two.

— which led you to your current state of affairs.

"the next time you forget to delete your 'tongue-in-cheek' speaker notes on the powerpoint we're submitting for review from higher ups, i'm breaking your fingers so you can't type them in the first place."

but of course jisung just turns it into a joke about a hand kink.

— your punishment for 'distasteful' jokes left in the margins of official company output wasn't anything too severe — bless whatever cosmic force made it so that the generally easy going mr. ok taecyeon was the one to see jisung's fuck up, and not someone less forgiving — but it meant the next few weeks would be hell in the form of grunt work.

see, your company was expanding in the industry, and it meant that the building you were currently working in wasn't big enough to house all the ✨aspirational goals✨ it was just starting to believe in. thus, the majority of higher ups were going to move into a new office building... and for some ass-backward reason, so, too were all of the archives.

and someone had to go down there and box it all up, making sure it was properly labeled and in order.

sure, the company was just head-empty enough to have the desire to move physical archives to a new office building. but at least they wanted it all in order before they stuck it in a different dusty basement.

— the very first day you went to the basement and saw the sheer level of work the two of you had in store, you locked eyes with jisung and just knew that fucker was going to find some way to get out of it.

— on your lunch break you tried to beat him to the punch and defend your honor against the soul crushing weight of undue punishment. but alas! you had already taken vacation days in the last month (damn that kpop concert - did you really have to be that devoted to your ult group??) and han hadn't had a day off for the last 6 months.

how the hell did you end up doing the punishment work for actions that weren't even (mostly) yours?

han jisung better move to that alaskan homestead after all, nowhere else would ever be safe from your wrath... once you got out of this basement, of course.

— the most you were given was help in the form of lee minho — who would have thought that he of all people would be your saving grace?

maybe he'd help you plan jisung's murder. they were friends, true, but anyone who was around han long enough would not be opposed to plitting his demise. it was part of his elusive charm, after all. everything wonderful about him also lent itself to fodder for plotting his demise.

convenient, really, given the circumstances you were in.

— but back to lee minho. perfect performance lee minho. always last to leave the office lee minho. infuriatingly not suffering from looking chronically fatigued or daunted, overwhelmed, or simply fazed by the overzealous work culture you found yourselves in, lee minho. curt and focused but lacking of an edge that would make him unapproachable lee minho. impossible to pin down, the vitruvian man of corporate dreams, somehow the bosses favorite despite failing to do any of the sucking up some of your other coworkers engaged in almost religiously lee minho.

he didn't frustrate you; he didn't even really baffle you, but he didn't exactly occupy your brainspace in a way that could be described as indifference, y'know?

maybe this was something you could blame of jisung, too. he always talked about minho an ungodly amount, waxed poetic about how it was a shame that minho worked in a different department — how the two of you really would get along famously, but damn, if he couldn't convince either of you to spend any of your (perhaps two (2)) hours of off-duty life in the same place at the same time.

social lives, after all, were laughable, where the both of you were concerned.

— the day you walked down there and saw minho already elbow deep in a filing cabinet seemingly older than your parents (which, lamentably, was the worst organized filing cabinet you'd ever seen, and was regrettably representative of 95% of the work ahead of you), you laughed out loud and took the moment to convince minho to take a picture for you, so you could tell jisung that he was missing the Historic and Long Anticipated Meet Up, and that was the moment you realized that you were so deep in the basement, phone service was a pipe dream.

it wasn't a concern, really — you were both benefiting from the random employee benefit of free spotify premium, so your downloaded content was enough to get you through the long hours of organizing and packing, and hey! being in the basement meant no one really expected any more out of you than your required hours and whatever mandatory overtime you had left to complete.

— so really, jisung had been stupid as hell to avoid this punishment. it was effectively less work than you were used to (though tedious) and you were far enough away from your desk that the thought of the work piling up in the world above wasn't eating at you that much (at least not any more than usual; workplace anxiety and you were well acquainted, at that point <3)

— and minho! — god forbid you say anything complementary about that bastard han jisung while he left you (more than) 6 feet under, doing work that was, by many rights, his punishment — but he had been right when he said you and minho would gel.

he didn't disturb you, for the most part, but working in the same space for full work days with nothing to do but listen to podcasts and check the dates on dusty files meant that Annoying The Only Other Person In Your Vicinity became a welcome distraction from wallowing in the fact you were moving at a pace slower than desired. and he responded quite well to any question you threw his way - no matter how brain-dead, invasive, or embarrassing. in fact, he'd hit something back - put the ball in your court in a question almost more ridiculous, leaving you to question how jisung hadn't forced the two of you together sooner (but fuck jisung; all my homies are blaming this comedy of errors on jisung and are in this basement actively plotting his demise).

— and it didn't take you long to realize charming minho is almost exactly like getting a neighborhood cat to endear itself to you.

pspspsps at random (bat a stupid ass joke his way);

give him space but respond to his random bids for attention;

have a snack drawer (one of the first emptied out file cabinets furthest to the back of the archival area) and occasionally offer something sweet as a reminder that the snack drawer exists and is for joint indulging;

entertain him with logic puzzles and psychological warfare;

and, of course, shit talk your coworkers and company.

indulge the cats desire for destruction and mayhem; tell minho that whenever he was ready to put in his two-weeks, you'd be right there beside him and would run the paper shredder all night while he corrupted the files.

exist calmly and comfortable in the cat's space; work so well in tandem that you began anticipating the movements of the other.

spend quality time with the cat; both of you begining to wordlessly take your lunches at the table in the archival basement, instead of going all the way back up to the cafeteria, choosing instead to chat with each other and indulge in the other's niche interests and stupidly staunch opinions on poor pieces of media.

slow blink at the cat; catch yourself staring for a bit too long when he doesn't notice you looking, your thoughts getting all muffled and sappy as you become wholly fascinated by the slope of his nose and the softness of his big, dark eyes that look perpetually half-bored at work but sparkle with intelligence and mischief when you call out his name — lighting up with interest and disguised delight as that lazy, gummy smile makes it's way onto his features, eyebrows quirking upward, already expecting a challenge and...

— wait... what was that?

— is there absestos in the company walls, and that's why they decided to randomly move buildings? is there lead lining these filing cabinets? black mold in the ceiling? were you perhaps inhaling narcotics in this dusty ass air and hallucinating something vivid?

you were not developing a crush on someone just because you were stuck in the basement with this fool for going on two weeks now and hadn't seen another good looking coworker in quite some time. this wasn't some kind of drama where the ceo has a strange delight in forcing company employees into situations laced with ✨sexual tension✨. you weren't a main lead suffering from romantic withdrawals. remember your leech of a company. you have no time for shit like that.

— but, i mean, if you're never out of the office, perhaps finding romance in office is a solution...

shut the fuck up, you and minho weren't even in the same department. that point was moot.

— because damn, maybe asbestosis really was getting to you, and that's what was knocking the wind out of you any time minho smiled. yes, certainly the absestos in the walls was what was informing the way your heart constricted whenever the two of you brushed hands passing a file between you. maybe you should sue your company and have some hospital use you as a case study. maybe all the distracted daydreams was a new symptom of your newly contracted deadly disease.

see, that would make sense. you weren't catching a mean case of crushing on your forced proximity coworker, you were simply dying. because of the absestos.

— but even still, the day both of you piled all the boxes of (appropriately lableled) filing into a work car, and minho drove you over to the new building, the fresh air didn't seem to be a cure all. you were still a little more than distracted by his messy hair and black sunglasses... his concentration on the road... his pushed up sleeves... not to mention his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

(but of course you'd snap out of your thoughts when you remember that joke jisung made about your supposed hand kink at the beginning of all this nonsense. shut the fuck up, memory ghost jisung. you don't know shit. you and minho had already talked about it and were coming for his broke ass the day he had the courage to step foot in the office again.)

— yeah, haha, you weren't crushing on lee minho because of a comedy of errors you had never dreamed would befall you in the first place. working alongside him hadn't woken anything in you. certainly not.

— and yeah, haha, you'd definitely be able to hide this from jisung when he came back. not a problem at all when he asks you about how sorting archives went (he had the gall to bring it up every five minutes — taunting you with the fact that he got to have 4 days off and was then reassigned to do answer all the emails that had piled up during his time out of office. yes, he had picked up some of the work originally meant to go to you, but still. a veritable traitor who deserved your absence from your usual lunch dates. and yes, it was hard to be slick when he'd bring up your casual absence from lunch — were you finding minho's company to be more than enough? — but you'd manage. like hell were you going to give the smug bastard satisfaction after he made you atone for his and also your crimes.).

— and yeah, haha, you'd would definitely be able to explain to a suspicious and put out jisung why you were canceling anime re-run night with him to instead go with minho to this hybrid cat-and-comic-book-cafe he had mentioned never being able to get a reservation for, despite living two blocks away from it. silly little things like that would be easy to wave away, right.

it's like, totally platonic for you and minho to meet up on your only day off to spend hours lounging at a cafe retreat together where you cooed at semi-sociable cats and joked about adopting and co-parenting the one who enjoyed wearing cute hats, and read comic books for hours and order food to share and have low-stakes debates about the best tropes and characters of shared beloved media.

it's not like that whole set up is incredibly date coded.

and it's not like it would become a recurring habit for minho to invite you to do things with him that would have jisung waggling his eyebrows even as you pleaded innocence and smacked him with whatever quasi-weapon you just so happened to have on your desk (mostly file folders and your favorite cat themed mini calendar).

— haha... it wasn't like you were down bad and incredibly bad at hiding your crush.

...right?

— you fool. you absolute buffoon. han jisung could smell your lies and poorly contained crush from thousands of leagues away. even if you weren't shit at hiding it, he would have known. he could have actually been on that remote homestead in alaska and still picked up on just how brain dead you were over your crush. you thought you were slick? when han jisung has a doctorate in anxious suspicion and twelve master's degrees in the art of bullshitting?

hell, he knew you were going to fall in love with minho before the two of you even met. why do you think he'd wanted to connect the two of you in the first place? because he thought you two needed a social life? please — he knew going in that putting the two of you in the same room was horrible for his self preservation; he knew it was practically undermining company goals because your joint productivity would fall 2000% and the amount of cat memes you two would send on company time would increase so exponentially, you'd both resort to making your own memes using your company paid subscription to adobe creative cloud; he knew that the two of you were almost scarily well matched and equally devoted to drinking your refusal-to-believe-i-can-be-loved-romantically juice.

he knew that you and minho would develop glaring crushes on each other and wouldn't do a damn thing about it beyond smoothly flirting for an afternoon, inviting the other out on dates-that-aren't-dates and promptly fake-gagging and denying in a manner almost theatric that you might *gasp* enjoy the other's company in a way not-so-platonic, only to do it all over again. a vicious cycle of 'stop feeding the rest of us lies and just kiss with tongue already, damnit.' and he knew all of your coworkers would be caught in the middle of it.

— which they were. for, like, a solid five months.

— now, it wasn't too bad, considering the fact that you and minho worked in different departments, but anytime there was cause for collaboration, suddenly you were clambering to be considered, no matter the intense workload or the way the task was slightly out of your wheelhouse. suddenly, it seemed you were incredibly eager to learn and prove yourself.

at first, your team leader was overjoyed. initiative? drive? a seeming zest and fire for more commitment? say less and do more! marry yourself to the dumbass collaboration with the other department! perhaps this could mean freedom for their long suffering servitude under the corporate thumb!

but then they saw you flirting with minho and making plans to spend an afternoon together at a book signing while still on the clock. and while they're not opposed to a bit of misuse of company time (vive la révolution contre les régimes capitalistes, and all that), it was a bitter and sobering pill to watch that shit happen daily while not getting any yourself, and then stomaching the fact that these clearlly love-struck fuckers won't admit their own transparency-set-to-0% feelings and put their chronically-single corporately-suffering coworkers to rest. either say you're in love and just be done with it or take the rest of us out with a shot gun. goddamn.

it's like a sitcom's mind-numbingly over-the-top valentine's day special. someone make it stop.

— and it didn't take a genius to connect the dots and realize that the employee responsible for all of this was han jisung.

after all, he's the mutual friend between them. no doubt he talked about the other constantly in glowing terms. no doubt he planted the seed they'd be a match made in heaven. no doubt he was the one to blame.

and! wasn't it his fuck up that forced you and minho to work together in the archives to begin with?

maybe killing han jisung wasn't going to make you and minho confess to each other, but it would be some kind of catharsis for the people who were stuck in this hell of Watching You Two Take Your Sweet Time With It.

— so jisung had to understandably think of some kind of plot. after all, the two of you were his best friends, but to hope that you would admit your feelings for someone to save his livelihood? don't be ridiculous. the both of you were quite happy with the flirting stage, as it currently stood.

— how to get your stubborn friends to admit their (very real and very reciprocated) feelings for each other... when there's no external or even internal pressure (on them, at least) to do so... jisung would have to think outside of the box.

or perhaps inside of it.

— which i'm sure is reason enough to explain how the both of you managed to get stuck in a closet during your company's holiday party.

and, through it all, is minho's mischievous eyes and your flair for the dramatic.

"do you think we should tell our coworkers we've been dating?"

☄. *. ⋆

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#olive.writes #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know imagine #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee minho imagine #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #yeah i still dk fully how to tag but hey; my other headcanon set did good so maybe i'm doing something right #also hi please tell me if you've ever been personally attacked by nosy coworkers and what your coping strategy is #mine is also compulsory and pathologically lying so i feel like lino and i understand each other that much at least

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butterflyknyfe · 2 months

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“ichigo could literally kiss rukia and ppl would still say they have a sibling relationship”

omg girlypop, i KNOW! it’s like how ichigo literally fucked, bred, and married orihime and people are still acting like he doesn’t love her! what a silly fanbase, amirite?

#the story literally did that #those things with orihime he literally did #other things that literally happened #rukia was likened to his sister #so much so she’d wear ichigo’s sister’s clothing #bleach is actually so heavy handed and straight forward #idk how ppl be missing the mark like this #ichihime #orihime inoue #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #bk007 #anti ichiruki

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fioxis · 6 months

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Okay so I swear I have a reasonable explanation for this (*coughs* no I don't)

I actually thought up this ship around the same time I drew that one 'pencil bois' art I posted last year but recently I rewatched some various DC cartoon episodes of Plas (and Creeps) and now Im huffing the delusional fumes again 😭😭

They're just... silly guys... being silly.... and gay... (My ship ramblings of how I imagine them to be under the cut)

----

I see them as a slow burn romance where they start out as friends to best friends, and then Ryder realizes wow he has a crush on Plastic Man of all people and Creeper makes fun of him until he realizes he also has a crush on Plastic Man of all people LMAO and this all building from months of them hanging out both in patrols and just having movie nights or something XD

Ryder eventually accepts like damnit I guess I do like this weirdo so in the headspace he's basically constantly simping whenever they're around Plas. Creeps, having to be the one who's physically there, just internally makes fun of Ryder constantly because while he also likes Plas, he's not nearly as much of a sap about it LMAO There's probably some times where he gets sappy and flustered but they're few and far between compared to how Ryder is in their head.

On Plas' side, I imagine him to be extremely oblivious to how his best friend feels about him because: (a) Creeps actually doesn't really give any indication of it outside of the moments where he gets sappy and flustered, otherwise he just continues to be extremely... himself; and (b) He's also started to feel some sort of way (a very sappy way) towards his best friend and oh my god hahaha it would be so weird if he liked liked his best friend, the Creeper, and theres no way he'd like him back so anyways we're just bros being bros amirite (very much deep in denial city)

Their alter egos are still hidden from each other, so they have no idea who the other person is and I think only few people know who their real identities are (one of those people being Batman of course). Why? Because I think its more fun that way hehehe.... I have this subplot in my head of how Eel O' Brian and Jack Ryder keep bumping into each other at like normal places (like the grocers or the park) around Gotham until they get to the point of like 'its that guy again' LOL

Is it possibly OoC? Perhaps. Very likely, in fact. But, my creeps and plas are very much a mish mash of different iterations and full of my own headcanons anyways so they're basically just my dollies at this point LMAO If you read into the end, thank you so much. Im kind of obsessed with these guys XDD Feel free to get in my ask box if you have any questions LOL

#plastic man #the creeper #eel o'brian #jack ryder #patrick o’brian #dc #dc comics #drawn by me #fanart #doodles #plastic man x the creeper

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m1d-45 · 1 year

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(please delete the other one, i forgot to add something 😭)

To: Il Dottore, Segment: Beta.

Snezhnaya, Zalponarny Palace, Basement Laboratory, Room 12.

(the letter was in a gold and white envelope, suprisingly unwilt jasmine flowers glued to the edges, the letter was ontop of a box matching it's aesthetic..)

Hello, Dottore, as your beloved creator, i trust that your research is going well? have you had any recent break throughs? well, this letter is mainly for the younger segments, but 'boattore' too! i love that silly doctor segment. how have you guys been doing in the lab? i know mad scientists like you guys are way too busy to probably read this but it's worth a try! i hope you guys remember to shower and eat while experimenting, can't be a great doctor and do great things on an empty stomach with hunger fatigue, amirite'? well, moving on...don't tell any other of my acolytes but you're on the list of my 6 favourites, i have a list of people for you to experiment on....think of it as a friendship exchange. well...while i sit here, writing this letter on my desk knowing i have classes at my university tomorrow, while it being night, i don't have regrets, sometimes i hope to be a high achiever scholar like you someday,

love you, little crow.

—from, your favourite flirty creator.

(in the box was a fine bottle of wine that pantalone himself couldn't get his hands on ! aswell as a new surgical kit made out of metal with gold accents..a white and pink suit and bow tie ! aswell as a small little plushie of dottore himself.)

dottore has seen many things, due simply to the nature of his work. demons beyond mortal understanding, bound in his office. men with the power of gods delivering paperwork. those same men bickering like fools.

he’s made his own god—even if the balladeer is still in progress, he’d be a fool not to recognize how easily the gnosis took to his form. he’s broken every ethical and moral law, created new ones just to break them again. he’s defied death itself, he’s risen to the second highest rank in the fatui, he’s seen everything and made even more.

and yet, when he walks into his lab, he never expected to see his clones standing around a table, poking and prodding at a mysterious box that he certainly did not put there. he quickly shoved himself to the front, ignoring their questions and picking up the envelope. it was surprisingly decorated for something in his lab, and addressed… to one of his segments?

he frowned.

his beta segment pressed to his side, but his curiosity won out his irritation. the envelope didn’t have a return name or address, so he simply tore it open, probably ripping the paper more than necessary.

every single sentence of your sentence was a surprise.

the first explained how it had gotten into his office, as well as why. but… why would you be interested in his work? even going so far as to give a nickname to one of his segments- calling him mad was expected, but the concern for his- for their health was not.

when you called them your favorite, he smiled. when you outright said you had suggestions for his experiments, he outright laughed.

dottore had long since accepted he had forsaken his creator. and yet, you said you loved him nonetheless. you him a bottle of dandelion wine—the segments ooh’d over that one, since the dawn winery had always made it a point to never sell to snezhnaya—and new tools. the beta segment had snatched whatever pink fabric you had tucked inside, but he was free to inspect the small plush left in the ornate box.

how interesting, he thought, that you had gone through the effort to get the perfect shade of string for his eyes.

#[ meteor showers ]#genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #dottore #sagau dottore #never thought i’d type that ngl #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #nor that #do i even tag his segments?????#can you tell i’m not a dottore enthusiast. i was guessing for half of this ngl #also anon GOD you are down ATROCIOUS aren’t you. jesus.#anyway um headcanon that dawn winery doesn’t sell to snezhnaya. because diluc yk.

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therainscene · 1 year

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Will Byers: Be gay do crime, amirite?

Growing up means putting away childish things, choosing between marrying a woman or remaining celibate, becoming a wage slave with no free time, and accepting that this is how life works.

Fuck that!

Will would rather spend his time doing things he actually enjoys with the people he loves, and if he has to break some of society’s rules to do so... well, clearly the rules were bullshit to begin with and deserve to be broken.

But the spark of defiance we see in the van is a smoldering ember compared to the fire of S3.

Will jokes about Vegas and D&D, but that’s all it is -- a joke. Getting to spend the rest of his life with Mike has begun to feel like a silly fantasy, akin to using superpowers to commit fraud as a minor.

It doesn’t occur to him that Mike’s cries for help could be because he wants to escape comphet, not be pushed further into it. He weeps quietly over his self-inflicted heartache, back turned and mouth smothered, like there’s something unreasonable about his feelings.

What happened to the brazenly authentic boy who openly admitted that he expected to spend his life with Mike? Where’s the offended boy who called Mike out on his performative heterosexuality? The furious boy who screamed and sobbed and swore as he felt society’s homophobic standards closing in on him with all the inevitability of growing older?

Will is authentic and headstrong, but even he is getting slowly crushed under the boot of forced conformity.

Some of the GA think this is an acceptable outcome; just an inevitable part of growing up gay in the 80s. It’s realistic and relatable. Great queer rep!

Others decide that Will should become a villain -- after all, hasn’t he earned the right? The narrative has done nothing but torture him, so doesn’t he deserve to go a little apeshit? As a treat?

Henry Creel: Be gay do crime, amirite?

Henry is scathingly critical of society’s rules. He refuses to compromise his true nature by playing along, and no amount of punishment can force him to change.

His backstory is presented in a way that makes it difficult to sympathize with him -- I mean, ok, maybe he didn’t deserve to be jailed and tortured when he was just a child, but surely the Soteria was necessary, right? He’s dangerous.

But the real threat that Henry poses isn’t his willingness to kill -- it’s the power he has to rewrite the rules. And both he and his oppressors know it.

By locking him up (forcing him into the closet), torturing him (subjecting him to homophobia), and implanting him with Soteria (castrating him), they stripped him of agency and reduced his options to a rock and a hard place:

Continue suffering in obedient silence.

Go apeshit and commit whatever atrocities are necessary to escape. Embrace his role as the villain in a story where people like him aren’t allowed to be the heroes anyway.

(Hmm, those are same options that Will is expected to choose from. What an interesting yet surely meaningless coincidence.)

The tragedy of Henry’s story is that he did end up conforming to the rules in the end.

He didn’t choose the option his oppressors would have preferred, but he did choose an acceptable one -- he became the monster they’d already branded him as. Once upon a time his fellow outcasts might have gladly allied with him, but now they’re forced to stop him.

I love the symbolism of this shot. El’s rainbow is larger and pushes Henry back, while his is upside down, foreshadowing how the battle is going to end -- but more than that, it symbolizes their approaches in battle.

The motivation that Henry is using comes from the same place as El’s -- a desire for self-preservation, to defy authority, to fight for the rights of fellow outcasts -- but his has been twisted. He advises her to use a memory of injustice that makes her feel angry and sad...

...and while it’s very effective, it’s not enough. It isn’t until she thinks of a memory that makes her feel loved that she’s able to gain the upper hand.

Interestingly, the lights surge around her as she does this, bathing her in an ethereal white glow:

It fits the symbolism of the rainbow room perfectly -- after all, what is white light if not a focused rainbow?

But more importantly: where have we seen this before?

Will Byers carries the light with him wherever he goes, because he has the benefit of something Henry was cruelly robbed of: the unconditional love and acceptance of his family and friends, which helped hinder society’s efforts to crush the authenticity out of him.

So why should Will suffer the same fate as Henry? What’s stopping him from being the hero and earning the happy ending he wants, instead of the tragic ending homophobes expect him to settle for?

Like Henry, Will has the power to rewrite the rules -- and this time, they’re actually going to be rewritten.

#stranger things #byler #will byers #henry creel #el hopper #my analysis

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sailoryooons · 1 year

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🧡🎃 my queen. i have been sent here by the guardians of the moons to slip a drabble request of spooky-weenie love. we can keep it rated pg 13, imply relationship/smut if you desire. however i shall be here — looking for the young lad taehyung, dressed up as prince charming at a heavily intoxicated halloween party. frantically searching for his partner, oc!cinderella, as he realizes the strap to one of her heels have broke and she is walking around barefoot without her shoes on (typical cinderella amirite?) and as the goodest of boyfies — he is just trying to take care of his girl. oh, and he discovers — after searching throughout the entire complex — that she has accidentally gone overboard after her last intense and competitive game of beer pong and oc has found solace in a bush outside the house 😂😅🥹 to where her tiara sits crooked on top of her drunken head and her prince charming comes to assist her with whatever else has gone wrong 🤪🧡

❀ Pairing: Taehyung x f. reader

❀ Summary: Taehyung loves being your prince charming, even if it means trying to find where you’ve wandered off to in the middle of a Halloween party without your shoes.

❀ Word Count: 1,657

❀ Genre: Established relationship, Fluff, Drunken Silliness

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Taehyung is a simp!!! Recreational drinking, reader is absolutely tanked but in a funny way, Taehyung is drunk but not as drunk, general descriptions of being drunk, one very sweet kiss, talks about toes djgdogidjgid, one sexual thought slipping through Taehyung’s brain

❀ Published: October 10, 2023

❀ A/N: THIS IS FOR MY QUEEN MAGGIE!!! MY BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL SAILOR MAGGIE! Everyone is just going to have to accept the bit about the toes and the running around barefoot in this because listen - we had a vision and I stuck with it and!!! Taehyung just loves her even if she’s ten-toe hogging it around a party with no zappatos on!! This was so fun and sweet to write and my god I need to write Taehyung more because I’m so down bad for him rgoidjgodijgdoigj. THIS IS ONLY GRAMMARLY EDITED SFODIGJ PLEASE FORGIVE ME EVERYONE.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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When Taehyung sees the silver pair of heels kicked off outside of Jimin’s bathroom, he knows it’s over for you. He still can’t help but smile, bending down to scoop them up by the straps, dangling off of his fingers.

Jimin’s house is full of creatures and goblins and ghouls and in Taehyung’s case, a prince. The itchy fabric of the Prince Charming costume is nearly insufferably where it rubs at his neck, the overcoat sweltering in the heated atmosphere of the Halloween party.

Music thumps as Taehyung navigates out of the hall, swiveling his head as he goes. Fifteen minutes ago you had announced rather loudly - and with a wicked lean that nearly knocked over the beer pong table you’d been championing - that had to relieve yourself. Taehyung watched with a buzzed grin as you picked your way toward the hall, lifting the skirts of your Cinderella dress to avoid anyone tramping on it.

Now, there’s no Cinderella dress in sight.

Taehyung pops into the kitchen, hoping to find you drinking water. Only Yoongi hides in the kitchen, ripping off the cat ears Hoseok has stuck on his head. Taehyung spots the fridge and realizes that you might want water when he finds you. He needs water to find you, the room spinning a little and his mouth still awash with the aftertaste of the witches' brew Seokjin had plied him with.

“Have you seen Cinderella anywhere?” Taehyung asks Yoongi.

Yoongi scowls as he wets his hands under the faucet and starts wiping at the cat nose on his face.

“I think she went out in the backyard. Something about a pumpkin at midnight.” Taehyung snickers and shakes his head. “She was also missing shoes. And said something about pong champ.”

Taehyung holds up the items in question. “I think she might have crushed it a little too much at the pong table. She's running around barefoot”

“Well, it is Halloween. Maybe she’s in touch with the Hallow’s Eve or whatever Or your princess turned into a werewolf and is currently howling like a fiend.”

“Uh-huh. Good luck with your cat nose.”

“Good luck with your princess. Or werewolf.”

Little does Yoongi know, Taehyung is always lucky with you. From the day that he bumped into you in a coffee shop, to the first date you went on, to years later, sharing an apartment above the coffee shop you love so dearly, Taehyung has been lucky every day.

He grins thinking about it, opening up the back door and heading into the year. It’s a crispy night, cool air brushing against the sweat gathered at the back of his neck. He pauses for a moment to shrug out of the itchy, cornflower blue overcoat of his Prince Charming costume to reveal a white tee.

Tying the coat around his waist, Taehyung surveys the yard. There’s no one outside that he can see, but the porch lights reflect all the way to the fence. Jogging down the steps, he glances up at the sky. It’s the perfect night, a thousand stars mapped across the world in perfect silence.

It makes sense that you would come out here, he thinks. You love to look at the stars, but most of all, Taehyung knows you’d like to lie down somewhere and look at the skies after having something to drink. Knowing you, you’d have come out for fresh air after realizing how drunk you were in the bathroom, only to get distracted by the sky.

He loves that about you, though. Loves that he can somehow piece together the way your mind works, loves that the natural course of trajectory for you was through the kitchen and out into the yard with a flippant comment about a pumpkin.

“Jagiya?” Taeyhung calls out, warm breath fogging in front of him.

“Pa-riiiiince!”

Taehyung turns around to look at the garden. He raises his brows when he sees your legs sticking out from the mulch. He presses his hand to his mouth, trying to conceal his laughter and shock that you are crushing Jimin’s marigolds.

He jogs over to you, finding you on your back with your hands tucked behind your head. You don’t seem to mind that you’re splat in the middle of flowers and dirt, your misty eyes fixated up on the sky with your mouth open in a dizzy smile.

You look radiant. Bathed in moonlight, eyes wide and lost in the sky. Even if your crown is a little crooked and your dress is a little stained, Taehyung feels his heart rate speed up. You may be dressed as a princess for the night, but you look like a goddess. Ethereal.

Taehyung feels a little dizzy. You reach for him and he complies, unable to say no to you as he sits and feels the marigolds crush under his ass. Your hands are warm and soft in his as you sigh in delight, thrilled to see him.

“The stars are so wonderful,” you breathe. You turn your head. He notices the yellow petals stuck in your hair. Your face changes from wonder to something else. Adoration, he thinks. Taehyung’s stomach flips as you squeeze his hand. “Almost as beautiful as my Prince Charming.”

“My Cinderella is beautiful too.” He holds your shoes up. “Even if she is running around ten-toeing it, barefoot in the middle of the night.”

You squeal, making grabby hands at the shoes. He lets you have them, laughing as you grab them and hold them to your chest, closing your eyes. Your head lulls to the side and he can see the sleepiness pulling at your edges.

“You’re sloshed, huh?”

“Like a coke slushie from the movie, Your Princely-Highness-Lord.”

He can’t fight his grin. “Have you had any water?”

“Champions don’t drink water.” He holds out the bottle of water to you anyway. You reach for it but miss several times before your greedy little fingers get a hold of it. As he lets it go, you loose your grip and it hits you square in the face. “Motherfucker, the water is attacking the champion!”

Time to get you home.

“It’s after midnight, Princess Champion. We gotta hitch a ride on the pumpkin.”

“Get the cat to drive,” you mutter, not opening your eyes. “He was trying to wipe his nose off in the kitchen.”

Picking himself off the ground, Taehyung manages to get you up and dusted off. You sway in front of him, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. He can see the desire boiling there, and though it makes the blood rush to his groin, he ignores it, knowing you both need bed.

Kneeling down, Taehyung slips your shoes back on. He’s careful, lifting your feet by the ankle to delicately slide the straps up. You’re nearly asleep as he works, eyes fluttering as his touch skims along your cooling skin. It’s only then he realizes that your shoe is broken and that leaving it on your foot and having you walk is dangerous.

Sighing, he takes them back off, intent to carry you to the Uber and up to your apartment. His fingers make you wake up a little, swinging your head down as you say, “Hey weirdo. I have a boyfriend - a prince, to be exact - and he wouldn’t appreciate you touching my toes. Those are his.”

Taehyung laughs and stands up. He looks down his nose at you. You have to tilt your head back to see him, breath coming out in sweet little puffs that smell like juice. “Oh,” you say as Taehyung lowers his mouth, nose brushing yours. “You’re my boyfriend. These are your toes.”

“They are,” he agrees. He steals a sweet kiss from you. Your mouth is warm against his, lips softer than ever. A shiver ripples through him as you melt into his touch, content to put your weight on him and let him hold you up. He always will. “Let’s get those toes home and in a pair of Sailor Moon socks, hmm?”

“Yeeeees.”

The Uber home is quiet. You immediately lean into Taehyung, smashing him against the door as you knock out. He smiles all the same, wrapping a warm arm around you. He kisses your head before leaning his forehead against the window, feeling the cool glass bring him all the way back to sober.

Lights blur by outside. Orange and purples of Halloween, smears of costumes, and partygoers coming and going from their haunts for the evening. Once you’re at your apartment, he rouses you and lifts you up, carrying you up the stairs as you go. Your crown only falls off your head once, which he dutifully sets you on the ground to collect so you don’t loose - in your words - the honor of your kingdom.

You sprint the rest of the way to your apartment then, tearing through the halls in your bear feet until you’re inside and on the bed panting, completely in disarray.

Two glasses of water, pajamas, and Sailor Moon socks later, you’re crashed in the bed, snoring lightly. Taehyung grins at your form, opening the drawer of the dresser where he stores his pajamas. Seeing you in your shared bed in his shirt, hand reaching out looking for him is the perfect end to this night.

Sliding into a t-shirt and sleep pants, he moves to close the drawer before he hesitates. At the bottom of the drawer is a black, velvet box. It’s perfectly square, and Taehyung smiles when he sees it, thinking about the way your eyes were starry and lost as you looked at the sky. He pulls a shirt over it - it only needs to be hidden for a few more days.

Shutting the drawer he turns to look at you. His sleeping beauty, now.

Biting his bottom lip, Taehyung laughs. It’s after midnight, but your spell on him isn’t broken. It never will be. And he cannot wait to slide the ring on your finger instead of sliding slippers on your feet.

#taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #bts fic #bts fluff #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung drabble #bts fanfic #taehyung imagines #haliween

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