#whew this got long sorry

[lesbianjamies]

You have two gap anons☺️ sorry to butt in but yeah there's only 12 episodes, though before it started airing saint said that we can get more episodes or something if it does well and well it is doing REALLY well. Freenbecky also mentioned that they are working on something "challenging" together, we don't know what that means but we'll see in due time. I just feel hopeful tho, considering all the setbacks they had at the beginning what's happening now is amazing. And we have another magazine photoshoot coming soon. They've worked together before gap and if they continue under idol factory then I guess there's a possibility for a lot more things in the future, which makes me really excited! And let's not forget that there's a second book for gap so who knows maybe they'll get a second season.

As for their ages, sam is 29 at the beginning and turns 30 on episode 5. Mon is 22 cause they have an 8 year old difference.

They both mentioned episode 9 is must watch (they really emphasised this) so I'm super excited! Hope you're too☺️

oh nice! i have two people to blame for when episode 9 breaks me mentally alsdjkfsl but srsly no worries at all please butt in because im very much out of the loop on the bts information about the show, so this is very helpful!

oh doing well is an understatement! they're pulling millions of views per clip of each episode and that's just on youtube and i know they also air it on local thai tv right? so that HAS to count for something, i would absolutely love it if they get the chance to film more episodes!

oh? that's very interesting, i would love to see what other projects that they'd be together on, i do like their chemistry together, and i wish them the best for that!

i do wonder if the thai entertainment industry is like ours here in the philippines where two actors who play a couple and do well together in one show/movie become a "love team" and they just like do more movies and shows for as long as they want to or the public wants to see them... wonder if its like that over there lol

ooooh i didnt know the comic/visual novel (?) this was based on is still on going, and if so !!! hell yes i would love a season two

yeaah the people who replied to my question said the same thing, glad my guess wasn't far off

we can't miss this episode bec its the one where mon finally tops sam!! lmao but narrative-wise this is also probably the climax and the central conflict culminates so yeah !! im afraid !! but i have faith in this show so i'm also looking forward to it 😁

[the-bi-space-ace]

13, 16, 21 for the Bad Batch ask!!

13. What jobs do you think each of the Batchers would have in a Modern AU?

Crosshair: I think he's the grumpy manager at a small coffee shop that every employee loves and every customer is terrified of. Any time a customer makes one of the baristas uncomfortable Crosshair is right there ready to throw hands. He's kicked out so many people. That protective streak is going to make him an employee favorite.

Hunter: maybe some kind of camp counselor. Takes the kids on hikes. Is the dude at the bonfire that is really committed to keeping the fire going.

Tech: bro is either a professional gamer or he is a scary good hacker that erases people's medical and student loan debt. Ya know what, maybe both. He is a streamer as his regular job and uses his skills to help people on the DL.

Echo: I think he is either an engineer or he is some sort of doctor. I think he'd thrive helping people but would need something fast paced or challenging to keep himself interested. Oh! Oh wait!!! What if he was a fire fighter?!?! That could work! It's dangerous, it requires a lot of strength and endurance, and it very much helps people. I think he'd be a fire fighter. Fits him perfectly.

Wrecker: I think he'd like being a personal trainer. Someone that helps people reach a certain goal. He loves helping people improve their strength or gain more flexibility or confidence. That's a lot of fun for him.

Omega: Vet. I feel like this just fits.

16. What are some headcanons you have about Echo?

Oh boy. What headcanons do I have about Echo?!?! Well I'm GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

I think Echo has always had anxiety. I think he's channeled that anxiety into learning the regs, honing his skills, and trying to be a top performing (just like a lot of us with anxiety did as kids. we have to be the best so we sure do try.)

He's a tricky little thief. He can steal something right out from under someone's nose and they'd never know. He picked that habit up early on and it never went away. Sometimes he does it just to see if he still can and to practice. He's an excellent thief.

He has broken his knuckles punching someone in the face before. Why do I think that? IDK. He just has.

Sometimes he follows the batch around the ship. Sometimes he talks, sometimes he doesn't. But he tends to pace (can't sit still) and he doesn't like to be alone so it's almost absentmindedly.

Has learned (particularly with Crosshair) that his silence hurts worse than anything he could say to them during a fight. If he's quiet for too long the rest of them get really uncomfortable about it. They'd rather apologize than endure silence from him. It feels too much like disappointment and Echo being disappointed in you is THE WORST.

He tie-dyed one of Hunter's bandanas as a prank once and then hid all the other ones so Hunter HAD to wear it. Hunter still has no idea who did it. Tech knows. Tech has never told anyone. Echo will remember the look on Hunter's face sometimes and laugh to himself.

He actively seeks out Wrecker when he needs a distraction. Wrecker is great at that. Whether it's a physical distraction like sparring, a dance party (let me have my dance parties I neeeeeeed them), or some cuddles Wrecker is the BEST and Echo will seek him out if he needs to.

Speaking of dance parties!!! Echo loved going out to bars/clubs with Fives to go dancing. They had a song that they loved so much they made a dance routine to it. It came on at most clubs and they really stole the show.

With the same idea: He wasn't too sure about dancing in public after being rescued from Skako so it took him a little bit to warm up to the idea but the batch LOVES dancing and he finally caved and went with them. Turns out Wrecker and Tech can learn dances in ten minutes and love to be the life of the dance floor. Echo had a lot of fun that first night and has since learned to just drag Crosshair and Hunter into their antics otherwise they'll sit on the sidelines and watch instead of participating. He's stopped waiting for them to join. He's going to go get them, make them join. They don't get a choice anymore they're gonna dance with them.

ok i'll stop now i got carried away

21. Road trip with the Batch! Where are you going? Who’s driving? Who has the snacks? Who is in charge of music? Who got left behind at the gas station? And other headcanons you have about going on a road trip with the Bad Batch. 

We're going to somewhere like... the grand canyon or Yellowstone bc I've never been and I want to go SO BAD and I've never been that far west before and just need to go so I'm choosing a nature/sight seeing trip. Maybe some stops along the way. Maybe there's a fun amusement park or zoo or something on the way!!!

Tech is driving bc I feel like he'd be annoyed with everyone else's driving and he likes to drive. Plus he can handle driving long distance and has it all planned out. Plus he speeds so we'll get there faster.

Wrecker is in charge of snacks. He'll bring A TON. And he knows the best snacks. We'd never go hungry.

Music is tough for me bc I feel like Crosshair and I have similar taste so I'd pick Crosshair but then I think the rest of the batch would complain about the music the whole time. So I'd also consider Echo who has a decent mix of music that I love and music that I've never heard before so I'd find new bops. Cross and Echo fight over the aux cord final answer.

Hunter gets left behind at the gas station. He spent too long looking at the nuts in the snack section. No one did a head count when they were back in the car.

[dagaan]

Aight we love a lesbian squid yes

but does she fist fight other lesbians to be the best lesbian??

Looks like she’s got her hands full at the moment…

Otherwise she might get into fights, but probably just for fun. Simple zest for life, you know.

[mirrortouchedsea]

Day 20

Madara pulled the yarn through the final stitch and looked at his… scarf. It was an attempt and while it didn’t look awful, he could tell that his tension had been maybe too tight and there was a weird dip a few rows in, but at least it was finished. He grabbed a yarn needle and tried to weave in the tails so he could properly call it finished. 

Leo had been complaining about losing his scarf the week before and Madara had the genius idea to try and make one himself. He had tried knitting but three dropped stitches later he decided to try something else. Kuro had suggested crochet since it was much more beginner friendly, and Madara had to agree. Despite everything, at least the scarf in his hands wouldn’t fall apart if he forgot a stitch somewhere. 

It still looked like a pretty messed up rectangle though. He debated just making a second one when the door opened to the craft room and he felt someone drape themself over his shoulders. 

“Mamaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” Leo whined. “Why are you ignoring me?” 

Madara turned his phone on and noticed a dozen missed calls and several unanswered texts from Leo. Oops. 

“Sorry Leo-san, I got distracted.” He turned to press a chaste kiss to Leo’s lips. “I tried to make you something but--” Leo’s eyes lit up and he reached for the garment in Madara’s hands. 

“Wahaha! You’re the best Mama! I love it!” Leo had already wrapped the scarf around his neck despite being indoors. “Oh I’m filled with inspiration! Do you have any paper? I need to write an Ode to Mama’s Scarf immediately!” 

Madara laughed and pulled out the notepad he had started carrying with him from his bag. Leo grabbed it and began scribbling, singing the melody as it came to him. When he was finished he tore out the page and folded it into his pocket for later. 

“Thank you, Mama. I mean it.” Madara felt a light blush on his face, a rare occurrence in their relationship. 

“Anything for you, Leo-san.” 

[velnica]

What got you into writing about the bard boys? Love your works by the way! :D

Oh this is a great question and I apologise in advance if this sounds like a meandering trip down memory lane, but I have not actually reminisced about this in so long!

I'm gonna have to rewind to 25 April 2022 when I finally finished the Stormblood Bard quest. I practically inhaled both the HW and SB portions, and I was excitedly talking about it to some uninterested friends. I started trawling AO3 for all their fics, tried talking about it to other FFXIV players (which ended nowhere, as I was decidedly not in shipping spaces yet), and then I nearly gave up because no one wanted to talk about them as much as I did 😭

No, I did not go into Tumblr or Twitter yet because I was a dum dum and I could have skipped this initial heartache if I had lol.

ANYWAY someone in a lore channel I was in said that their initial tiff in the Nine Ivies look like two jilted lovers getting annoyed at each other and then an idea started forming. What if they were jilted lovers? What if they had met each other but subsequently avoided the others due to reputations, or unwillingness to commit, or whatever else? And then the smut writer in me started cackling; what if they had a one night stand and they remember it?

Before I knew it I had the first draft of Breathe In written in my gdocs. I posted it and then bam! there was no way to go but onwards. I started finding fandom spaces for ffxiv shipping, and then I found people who also ship the bard boys and the rest, as they say, was history.

To me this is really the story of how an interest that was fed and nourished can grow to be something that elevates my life. I enjoy the act of writing/creating itself and in the boys I found a subject that I want to explore through many scenarios which is I think just a match made in heaven. I also would like to think that they're cheering me on from between the lines, encouraging me to keep unfolding their stories in my own way and I think that's a really sweet thought that will keep me going in this niche space for a very long time 💖

[snowangeldotmp3]

since you requested ronance asks: robin confronts nancy about why she throws herself headfirst into danger without thinking to save other people. they argue about it. nancy finally admits that it's because she can't lose anyone else to this shit. they collapse in each other's arms and just hold each other. they're both traumatized. but they're together in this. it's a moment of clarity for both of them.

first off, obsessed with the halloween themed username. werewolf robin stans RISE.

second. i had to open up a word doc to write some of this down, bc i'd imagine it goes like this:

“are you out of your mind?” she spits at robin, who’s equally as furious. they've just come back from another demogorgon hunt. robin opens her mouth to fire back, but nancy beats her to it. 

“you could’ve been killed!”

“yeah, but i wasn’t! so it’s no big deal.” 

nancy spins on her heel. “it is! it is a big deal. “

“how, nancy? how is it such a big deal that i saved you?”

“because that’s not your job,” nancy hisses, dangerously close to robin’s face, “it’s mine.”

robin stops, anger melting away at the admission. nancy seethes, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

“nance…” she reaches out, hand hovering on nancy’s shaking form. nancy shrugs her hand off, refusing to look up at robin.

she knows nancy. knows she doesn’t like being vulnerable, knows she doesn’t like feeling weak. nancy’s not weak, that’s for damn sure. but no matter how many times robin’s tried to explain to her than emotion does not equal weakness, nancy’s still always incredibly hesitant to open up.

robin doesn’t blame her. she’s met ted wheeler.

this feels different though, different from their emotional late night talks. this feels heavier. robin can feel it. the weight of it hangs in the air in-between them.

nancy looks back up at robin, tears threatening to spill, bottom lip downturned, quivering. “i can’t,” she chokes out, “i can’t lose you. i can’t. i’m supposed to protect everyone and i can’t do that if you’re out here running around like a self-sacrificial idiot. i can handle myself.”

robin’s heart shatters. nancy thinks she has to handle things by herself. robin wants to let her know that she doesn’t have to. nancy sniffles, returning her gaze to the ground.

“nance, i used myself as a distraction because it was heading straight for you.”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t have done—“

“let me finish,” robin inhales deeply, steadying herself before she loses her confidence, “nance, you can’t protect anyone if you’re dead.”

robin must strike a nerve, because nancy breaks. she sobs, robin wraps herself around nancy in a bone crushing hug. nancy sobs and sobs and sobs. robin knows at one point she’s crying too. she doesn’t have the words for this, not yet anyway. she hopes nancy can pick up everything she can’t say. i’m sorry. i’m here for you. don’t leave me. i love you, i love you, i love you.

they stay like that, holding onto one another. anchoring them to each other. robins not sure for how long. they sway in the kitchen, just the tiniest bit. robin, in a moment of bravery and love, plants the softest kiss to brunette curls.

“you’re not gonna lose me, nancy wheeler.” it’s a promise. a threat to all the shit they’ve seen, everything that they still have to see.

“you’re not gonna lose me either, robin buckley.” nancy mumbles into the shoulder of robins sweater.

robin smiles softly. nancy means it. they’re stuck with each other now.

robin finds that she can live with that.

[honorhearted]

@laviexenrose

Ben had always loved a.utumn. Memories of smoke-filled hearths tickling noses, leaves crunching underfoot, and his mother’s prized apple t.arts were only a few of the many delightful recollections, and he needed that now more than ever. The w.ar had not been kind.

Along with the changing leaves came the promise for personal growth – for regeneration from all the pain and d.eath the w.ar had strewn across the c.olonies. Ben, in particular, felt torn from the inside-out, uprooted, lost, and the harrowing result was he barely recognized his own reflection. Every man, woman and c.hild lost a piece of their soul in the fight for i.ndependence, and each breath Ben took felt akin to h.emorrhaging. His mistakes, his faults, his failures splattered across his inner h.eart and painted his insides a foul red. He couldn’t keep living like this…wouldn’t, in fact, which was why he’d ultimately gone in search of familiarity – of comfort. In other words, home.

L.itchfield was as vibrant and alive as he remembered it. The orange and yellow leaves seared across the horizon like a blazing i.nferno, reminiscent of the f.ire in his heart at the beginning of this fight. Long ago, Ben had been hopeful and alive once too, b.urning brightly and throwing all caution to the wind. He used to sneer in the face of d.anger. He’d laughed at the thought of becoming old and jaded and hollow when there was the taste of f.reedom to be had.

But he was wrong. He was all of those things now, and the final nail in the proverbial coffin had been Isabelle’s refusal to write him. He’d sent her a plethora of letters -- an embarrassing amount, really -- with nary a peep. She’d cast him aside when he’d needed her most. Why, he could never be certain, but perhaps she’d finally become wise. Perhaps she’d realized she was worth far, far more than a p.reacher’s son -- a t.eacher.

Doffing his hat, Ben entered the local tavern and headed toward the one open table at the edge of the room. The dimness of the candlelight in contrast to the afternoon sun had him squinting, and as he took a seat, he didn’t realize he was being approached until it was too late.

“Benjamin T.allmadge!” the middle-aged man crowed, grinning while clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

Ben jumped, bile rising in the back of his throat. Wall-eyed, he looked up at the other man, visibly trembling. These days, touch could be a double-edged sword. Even a mere brushing of fingers could have him high on the alert and ready to a.ttack, fearing for his life at every possible turn.

Bewildered by his response, the newcomer held his hand aloft and took a step back. “C.hrist, T.allmadge, I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to scare you...”

Swallowing, Ben heavily took a seat and set his t.ricorn onto the table. “I...i-it’s fine,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, Josiah. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Nor I you, for a sec,” the man replied with a sad smile. “It’s so good to see you, k.id.”

K.id. It was strange, Ben thought. Despite the fact Josiah B.utterfield was about 12 years his senior, he was by no means a c.hild in comparison. Still, he’d always liked the b.anker, and found himself relieved to see a friendly face.

“Just get back, did you?”

Ben nodded, anxiously spinning his hat on the table. “Yes...I’ve barely set down my things at home,” he replied. “I’m grateful to you. I imagine you’re responsible for ensuring that my house was cared for?”

Josiah nodded. “Aye. Of course. Think nothing of it.”

Ben exhaled, knowing that he wanted to ask about Isabelle, but for the sake of his heart, refrained. Instead, he pressed, “How are things for you? I imagine that in these seven years, a lot has happened.”

Finally, a sly look crossed Josiah’s features and he nodded, tilting his head. “Quite a lot, indeed,” he allowed. “I just got married at the start of this year.”

“Truly?” Ben asked, offering a tired smile. “That’s wonderful news...my sincerest congratulations! In these trying times, we have to grab hold of the joyous things in life and never let go.” Gesturing toward him, he pressed, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Isabelle Allard.”

All at once, any good cheer Ben felt plummeted into the pit of his stomach, churning and acidic as he visibly paled. Swallowing, it suddenly became difficult to breathe. “Isabelle...Allard?” he echoed.

“Aye. Well, Isabelle B.utterfield now,” Josiah replied with a wink. “I recall you two being rather close. I trust the town gossip about your intentions were-?”

“Wrong,” Ben cut in, the lump in his throat only worsening. “Completely, utterly false.” Staggering up from his chair, he swiped his hat and choked out, “I have to go.”

“What? But you just got here!” Josiah complained. “At least have a round on me? Your service deserves to be celebrated!”

“Later,” Ben snapped, and perhaps with far too much brusqueness. “I just remembered some affairs I need to settle, but upon my honor, Josiah: we’ll have that drink. Someone needs to toast your good fortune.”

Before the other man could argue, Ben spun on his heel and stormed back out into the dusty street. It wasn’t until he was walking away, his heart strings being shorn apart and his knees wobbling that he fought back a dry sob. Just like the w.ar had stolen his ability to remain calm, he also could no longer cry. 

--

He didn’t know why he was here. Ben didn’t know why after the news, he’d taken to their special meeting place, walking as though his very life depended upon it. He pushed through underbrush and brambles and twigs, the forest snagging at his coat and stockings as he moved. But he didn’t stop. Not until he reached the clearing -- their clearing. Yet the moment he stumbled upon the familiar sight of auburn leaves and still, placid water, he realized he wasn’t alone...

“Izzy?” The name came out as a choked whisper, almost as if Ben were afraid she was a mirage -- that Isabelle would disappear the moment he acknowledged her presence.

Trembling, he remained stock-still, his hands balling into fists as he watched the afternoon sun outline her silhouette like burnished gold. His heart ached at the sight -- of the memory of running his fingers through her hair and cradling her in the crook of his arm; of lying in the grass in this very spot, laughing and whispering promises for better tomorrows...and now that was all gone.

“What are you doing here?” Ben demanded. His tone was sharp and accusatory, and just as before, he felt the stabbing pain of emotion in his throat.

[meownotgood]

au where I help aki heal his inner child by forcing him to play all of the games I hyperfixated on in my youth

[eorzeashan]

saw that ETL post about needing to have respect for your enemy to both loathe and love them, and sat there for awhile thinking about it in Eight's terms because when do I not have thoughts about him, lol.

Eight gives as much respect as he can to whoever he kills, but he can never despise them, unless they truly are someone who has fallen into depravity and cowardice (i.e. Valkorion). Even for someone like Arcann who effectively stole 5 years of his life away and hurt countless lives in pursuit of a rather close-minded goal, he could only judge him on what he saw of him on the battlefield in their private duels-- and that was Senya's son who fought every single time to destroy Valkorion. A conviction that he was unafraid to die for. Even "judging" is a loose term when it comes to his enemies because he cannot actually judge based on any morality: he can only see the full extent of their devotion to their own cause no matter how small and their lives in the few minutes before it is cut away.

People tend to show their true selves to him when they know these are their final moments, so he understands the full weight of taking that life. There is nothing glorious nor honorable about it. In fact, it only reaffirms that war is truly hell- where even the most fulfilling of lives can be struck down the same as the most insignificant ones. To that end, he believes true warriors should understand this: taking anything more from your enemy after taking their life is abominable; no killer should find peace or satisfaction from murder. An odd statement from one who does nothing but kill, but he despises the thought that killing is anything other than the act itself no matter how you dress it up. It can be for a worthy cause, but it should be seen for what it truly is at the end of the day.

That's also why he seems to bide his time waiting for the penultimate battle that barely lasts 10 minutes the entirety of a war. Everything else is just steps leading up to that. He conceals and holds back everything until he can meet his enemy face to face, which is why he essentially got...bored waiting to strike at Ardun Kothe, since it took forever to get to him with a bunch of menial tasks. He's a guy who does everything 0 to 100. It was the same with Hunter.

The real tragedy of Hunter was that they both knew they were very nearly the exact same-- only that Hunter could not stand up to him martially and once caught, was as good as dead. Eight just barely came out on top because of his doggedness and the fact that Watcher 2 and Keeper acted as his tactical minds. I think he wished Hunter could've met him on the same level in battle, but the way both of them fought was too different, despite the way they lived being extremely similar.

I guess the end point of this analysis is that Eight devotes his entire being to the fine point of a blade because it carries all the meaning in the world and none at all when it comes to those he meets and inevitably kills. You can attribute it partially to being Echani as yet another culture that thrives off war, but killing itself means nothing. It has no honor. It is yet another duty only he can carry out because of his detachment and dedication to it that surpasses everything. To his dear enemy that he meets for the first time on the battlefield, he'll give them his entire life- a meaningless thing designed to cut theirs.

[boysgenuis]

˙   ៹    ♡     @mndstom           /            eunji   &   yoomi.

          the rain pelts the roof in a torrential downpour. it's loud enough to drown out the music playing in eunji's airpods, a playlist specifically designed for moments like this. she's always hated thunderstorms. summer storms around here tend to be the worst ; they knock out the power & flood the basements, leaving everything a dark & sopping mess. they've already gotten the candles out, preparing for the inevitable. their apartment doesn't have basement space, so it's one less thing to worry about, but they've put everything important out of the way, just in case. for an hour, they were amicable, though the bar was in hell considering they hadn't said a single non-essential word to each other.           now it's half-past midnight & the storm is raging. eunji stands at the kitchen counter, swiping a butter knife coated in peanut butter over a piece of bread & humming along to her music, as if her own voice can outdo the heavy rain. thunder clashes overhead & pink lips purse together. she puts the pieces of her sandwich together & takes exactly one bite before the lights go out. she stands still, praying beyond hope that the lights will flicker back on after a second. they never do ; this time is no exception. moments tick by without so much as a flicker of a lightbulb or the hum of a generator. she slowly puts her sandwich down & grabs the lighter out of the drawer. she lights the candle on the kitchen counter, painting the wall in a faint orange glue. she doesn't bother to light any of the others. it's almost time for bed anyway.           she makes quick work of eating her sandwich & rushes to finish up the paper that has her out of bed in the first place. she clicks submit just before two in the morning & closes the laptop. her bottom lip worries between her teeth for a brief moment before she blows out the candle & retreats to her room. she stalls at the door. she . . . really hates thunderstorms. she won't be able to get any sleep like this. not like this. she makes a snap decision ; against her better judgement — & god knows it is the better judgement — she pads down to the other end of the hall & knocks lightly on the closed door. ❛ yooms ? ❜ she calls quietly. she hasn't called her ex that name in a while, but storms always bring out her more vulnerable side. she pushes the door open, listens to it creak beneath the sound of pouring rain. ❛ can i —— ❜ she stops herself. it's ridiculous to ask, but equally ridiculous to hesitate. yoomi knows how she feels about storms. more than anyone, yoomi knows. ❛ ... can i stay in here ? just until ... you know. ❜ she makes a gesture that her ex can't see in the dark, then bites her lip again, braced for rejection.

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

Unfortunately for you, the half of the patrol you need is on a hunt. They won’t be back until late evening, according to Sota, if not well into the night. “Maybe even morning,” he says, glancing out over the raised path you’ve found him on, “with demons now roaming about.” You have no choice but to wait for them to come back.

"There you are!”

The new voice behind you turns out to be Akemi, near breathless as she bounces up the path to meet you. She all but flops into your palm when you crouch down to pick her up. “Y’know,” she pants, “for someone that looks like you... you were really hard to find!”

Apparently Yawa sent her to find you after hearing from the girl in the square, with an added instruction to make sure you eat something before you come back for the night. Akemi, however, talks you into turning your trek back into a proper tour of Wep’keer, insisting that it’d be better late than never. She eagerly points you this way and that, calling out to anyone she recognizes and eagerly introducing you to anyone who is brave enough to ask.

“You’re making Yawa’s instructions very hard to follow,” you tease between introductions.

“Aw, hush!” Akemi huffs, smacking her tiny hands against the crown of your head as you smother a laugh. “Besides, Bikki’s stand is right across the square from Granny Yawa’s. If we wait a little bit, he’ll probably have a fresh batch of dumplings when we get there!”

At one point, the two of you pass what she calls the ‘playground’. It seems there’s a snowball fight going on, and a mix of pups and children toss and dodge flying snow in all directions. Akemi grumbles about being too small to join in, but your attention is snagged by a successful strike. The pup that’s been hit makes a dramatic show of howling, coughing, and flopping over in the snow; you know he’s just playing dead, but you still find yourself holding your breath until he giggles and rolls back over.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” a girl cries (presumably the one who took the lucky shot). “Get back down! I got you!”

“No way!” he barks, shaking himself off before popping back into a boy’s shape. “Now I get to be one of the throwers!”

“Nuh-uh!” She stamps her foot, huffing angrily. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

Akemi is giggling, but you feel like you’ve suddenly been shot by a stray arrow. You’re supposed to be dead! You’re supposed to be dead... At some point, it’s no longer the children’s voices saying it, and hundreds more begin echoing in your skull from all angles, demanding to know how you escaped and pondering on why it was you. Moshiri’s words remind you about being hunted down, and many voices from the heavens and moon chorus after it: because you should be dead.

Something cold smacks your thigh, and you're tugged back out of your thoughts. “Sorry!” yells a voice, and you blink to find your eyes refocusing. It’s only now catching up to you that a wayward snowball’s hit you in the leg, and the children are now staring at you. “Hey... are you okay? It didn’t hurt that much, did it?”

Come on, you have to say something. If only to get their eyes back off of you. “I... still have a bruise there,” you insist, loosely waving a hand while you brush yourself off. “I’ll be fine; maybe next time I’ll be well enough to play.”

The kids seem satisfied and return to their game. Akemi, however, climbs down your hair to plunk herself on your shoulder. “I thought the bruise was on your other leg,” she whispers.

“It is.” You busy your hands with pulling your coat tighter around yourself. “I think we should go back now.”

“What? But we still have plenty of daylight before--”

“Akemi.” The word is a bit firmer than you intended, and when you shoot her a glance she leans away a bit. This is going from bad to worse, and you force yourself to take a breath before trying to speak again. “Let’s... just go back to Yawa’s. You can show me the rest of Wep’keer tomorrow, okay?”

Maybe it’s because she can now see your face, but Akemi proves quick as usual to catch on. She hums a bit, then scoots a little closer to your ear. “Maybe we should still eat something first?” she suggests quietly. “Granny Yawa will be mad if you try to skip out on a meal, you know.”

You really just want to get out of here (and, let’s face it, Akemi wouldn’t be able to stop you if she tried), but she has a point: Yawa would definitely scold the two of you if you came back unfed. You’re pretty sure she picked that argument on purpose, but all the same you have to admit defeat. “... okay. But no detours. Please.”

That seems to satisfy her, and Akemi wastes no time climbing back atop your head to guide you once again. Instead of waving over the people you pass, she explains to curious onlookers that you’re not feeling your best right now and need some space. To your surprise, they seem to understand right away; as if they’re used to this sort of thing, despite having never seen you before in their lives. You let her do the talking when you get to the merchant, as you’re still running a bit on autopilot as you’re handed the pouch and sent on your way.

“Kuki gets overwhelmed really easily,” she explains when you’re mostly out of earshot from the square. “Though she isn’t good at talking her way out of things like you seem to be.”

“Right, the two of you are friends.” Given what little you know of Kuki to begin with, this must be a regular occurance for her... even if it isn’t for you. “You must be used to... this, then.”

“I mean, a little. But you’re pretty different from Kuki.” She hops down to your arm before you can push Yawa’s door open, tipping her head back to look up at you. “You still seem kinda rattled,” she murmurs. “Did something spook you up in town?” She gasps a little, then whispers a new thought: “Did you get a vision? Like you did in Yoshpet?”

You kind of wish she hadn’t said that; now that prophecy is fluttering awake too, future and past mixing in your head like oil and water. “... I do have a prophecy, but I received it before you caught up with me. It’s... hard to explain what happened at the playground, Akemi.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The thought of trying to sort any of your head out loud threatens makes your stomach churn along with it. You try to push the feeling back down; you don’t need that on top of everything else ringing in you. “Not really.”

[letthebookbegin]

you live in england right ? whats your favourite area ! planning a trip in the ( far ) future & would like some pointers on places to visit !

heyy! i do live in england, in london, and there's so much to do in the city! i'd recommend visiting all the museums that are in your range of interest (the science museum, natural history museum, v&a, british museum etc) as they're all free, and also to visit the royal parks - if you plan your day right, you can visit a few places in a day, as the museums & some of the royal parks are all pretty close to each other (best to travel by train in the city, so grab an oyster card/contactless debit card and wander as much as you like! there's stations within walking distance of everything).

i also love the different markets london has - camden market & spitalfields market are great, there's a few others too which i haven't been to yet like leadenhall market & columbia Road flower market but i'd love to go! lots of great food from diverse countries in the two markets i've been to, and brick lane also has great food options.

there's a few other sights, there's usually art exhibitions/installations around that you should google closer to the time to see what's on (i've been to the van gogh exhibition, pricey but enjoyable) as well as things like free rooftop views (garden at 120, sky garden), cable cars at greenwich near the o2, etc. of the typical tourist-y things, i think i've enjoyed the london eye the most, and the uber boat across the thames the least (it STINKS).

other than london, if you're into hiking & english countryside views the lake district is gorgeous, and so is snowdonia & the countryside in scotland (last two not in england). cambridge is also a stunning city with beautiful architecture & a short train's ride away from london.

[certifiedjaeger]

oh wow, my mind is actually about to explode

[astro-inthestars]

had an impromptu going to a different church, going to the mall, going to relative's house, having a family gathering experience today. ougghhh

[ikarakie]

after eddie introduces a demogorgon to one of his hellfire campaigns, the kids get a little squirmy. they're nervously looking at each other and aren't engaging as excitedly as they usually do. when he calls time, he watches dustin rummage through his backpack and produce a walkie talkie.

he watches, a bit dumbfounded, as the kid demands a 'check-in'. all at once, multiple different voices come over the channel. stating a name and then saying 'safe.' ("nancy, safe." "robin, safe." "max, safe.")

"steve?" dustin demands. there's only static. "steve!" a little more frantic this time.

"he left to pick you up." a female voice replies, "he's probably fine. you'll see him soon."

none of the kids look particularly pleased, and pack up hastily. eddie and the other hellfire members all share confused glances. he, more morbidly curious than anything else, follows the little sheep as they hurry out of the school.

dustin is fucking restless as they all stand in the empty parking lot. he won't stay still and none of them are answering any of eddie's questions. and he only gets more confused when a brown beemer pulls in, windows down and playing depeche mode through the speakers. dustin goes to sprint towards it, and he has to hold him by the collar to stop him getting run over.

the beemer pulls up and steve harrington, in all his glory, steps out, frowning. dustin wrenches out of eddie's grip and all but bodies the guy, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection. steve, still looking puzzled, hugs back. lucas and mike trail after dustin.

"we called a check-in." dustin says, a bit muffled from where his face is smushed into steve's shirt. steve goes sort of pale, and- and presses a goddamn kiss to the top of henderson's head before tightening the hug.

"shit, i'm sorry." and eddie believes him. he sounds so guilty. "i meant to replace the batteries before i left. sorry, i'm okay." dustin pulls back and scrubs at his eyes. lucas takes his place, though the hug he gives is more like one of those bro-hugs jocks seem to love. steve smiles regardless. he just ruffles mike's hair, who pouts in response but looks relieved nonetheless.

"asshole." he mutters. "rule four, walkies on at all times." steve nods as the kid half-heartedly waves goodbye to eddie and hops in the backseat of the beemer. lucas follows. dustin seems reluctant to walk around the car, to take his eyes off steve for even a second.

"you wanna stay over tonight?" steve asks, warm and gentle. he folds his arms and in that moment eddie thinks they look sort of like brothers. "robin and me were gonna watch some films. we can call your mom from mine."

the kid nods, looking a bit happier. steve slaps him on the back and motions him to get in the car. dustin swivels to hug and say goodbye to eddie (who sort of forgot he was physically present in this moment) before doing as he was told.

steve turns to eddie. which- whew! hi pretty eyes.

"sorry." he smiles and eddie can't for the life of him figure out what he's apologising for. "they, uh- yeah. them." he gestures vaguely at the car and eddie just chuckles.

"hey, man, no worries." he says, a little breathless that he's having a conversation with the steve harrington. "they okay? never seen henderson look so rattled." steve nods, then seems to think better of it and just shrugs. cocks his hip to the side (stop fucking staring at his hips, munson, lord!)

"they will be." he glances back at the beemer, which is now full of childish bickering. pauses to think and then asks, "you using demogorgons in your campaign right now?"

eddie blinks at him. "yes? yeah. what the fuck- how do you know what that is? what-" steve just laughs.

"long story." there's a haunted look in his eyes before he continues, "just, uh- that's probably what upset them. demogorgons and us- them, i mean-" he waves his hand. "bad memories. hard to explain, but... if you could..." he doesn't need to ask, seems like he doesn't know how or even if he's allowed.

"got it, ill tweak the campaign." harrington smiles at him, something small and genuine, and murmurs a thanks. offers him a fucking lift, which eddie declines, motioning to his van. harrington just nods, tells him to get home safe and then clambers back into the car, yells at the kids to put seatbelts on with all the exasperation of a single dad, and pulls away.

eddie watches them go, having seen a side of harrington he'd thought dustin had been lying about. steve harrington, the caring babysitter, everyone's older brother, a changed man.

he starts escorting the kids to the parking lot more often.

[powerfultenderness]

Bed

Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.

Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)

Rated: T+

A/N: Just some fluff. 

Word count: 2947

[Neighbor König masterlist]

It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams. 

That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take. 

“Excuse me,” he started in German.

You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!” 

With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.” 

He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?” 

You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand. 

He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.” 

Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs. 

You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs. 

You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.

“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don’t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.

He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”

“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!” 

Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”

“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.” 

“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.” 

You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!” 

“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you   

“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.

He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.

“You should lock your door,” he followed you in. 

You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”

“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.

“Huh?”

He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor. 

“Do you need help bringing anything else up?” 

You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.” 

You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back. 

König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face. 

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.” 

You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.

Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-” 

“You won’t.”

You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!” 

His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected. 

“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!” 

Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.” 

He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around? 

With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him. 

As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.” 

“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.” 

Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too? 

“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?” 

Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.” 

Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once! 

You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-” 

“Now.”

“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”

He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?” 

Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.” 

“No.”

You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!” 

He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.

205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was. 

The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.

He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite. 

Oh. “I’m sorry.” 

He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?” 

You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.” 

Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door. 

He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.” 

There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.

You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?” 

“Oh. Sure.” 

You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company. 

Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.

“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-” 

Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”  

Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now. 

You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people. 

He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?” 

You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.” 

He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him. 

The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side. 

You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.

“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down. 

“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.

His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.  

And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep. 

He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.

-

You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-

Wait!

You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.

You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.

“König?” 

“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.

You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.

“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.

“Yes.” 

“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”

“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.

You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake! 

“No, thank you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”

“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.

You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”

“Me?”

“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”

“You like my bed?” 

“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.” 

The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!” 

“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail.