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lovesickeros · 4 months

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☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

#genshin impact #genshin impact yandere #genshin yandere #neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #furina x reader #yandere furina #yandere furina x reader #fic tag #pats neuvillette this noodle dragon can be so pathetic #aiming for pathetic desperate and slightly guilty. it gnaws at him knowing he's keeping you like a bird in a cage #esp if you react extremely negatively hes like a kicked puppy #not outwardly but internally hes a MESS. sobbing crying wailing #furina and neuvi sopping wet kittens u found in a cardboard box in an alley #vs arle thinking abt all the crimes shes going 2 commit in the process w/o an ounce of guilt. blackmail? check. kidnapping? check.#a little murder for flavor. as u can see im coping horribly w being practically snowed in rn i need 2 be put down #its like 4 degrees out rn (fahrenheit) and getting colder ueueueue i am dying..........#only thing keeping me going is my furinameow plushie coming. eventually. staying strong just for her.................#also needs 2 be mentioned all the stories r separate ksjfkhdsf #no not everyone in fontaine is yan and trying 2 kidnap sorry for getting ur hopes up..#yet #anyway u cant convince me arle isn't bribing (or just straight up forcing) her agents into doing stupid shit so she can “save” you #and make you owe her #two silly goofy little creatures vs the personification of gaslight gatekeep girlboss (heavy on the gaslight)#also split this up in 3 parts bc. lol. lmao. im not writing 9 characters at once goodbye #also all the masks do actually have significance i have an entire essay on why i gave each animal to specific characters okay

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atlaswav · 3 months

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ADDICTED TO THE RUSH ♢

INFO: 3k words, aiku oliver x fem! reader SYNOPSIS: strange things, a man did, when his knowledge of women was suddenly upturned by your very existence — the anomaly to his capricious heart, the addictive rush he'd been yearning for. WARNINGS: making out 16+ (shame.), hard drugs, hallucinogens, please don't do drugs kids, ESPECIALLY NOT FROM RANDOM STRANGERS LIKE OLIVER THIS BITCHASS, angst?? with happy ending. please be drug safe, not like this guy AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read and this is nothing except shame and delusion i'm ashamed and also simultaneously proud but i'll probably look back on this later and barf. listen to waiting for love by openside the title is inspired by that song. ++ if this is romanticising drugs in any way pls lmk idk what came over me. also likes and reblogs are really appreciated i'll give you a cookie 🫂

Contrary to what many would think, Oliver Aiku didn’t exactly consider himself one for parties. If anything, the thrumming bass that vibrated through the crowd, the alcohol stagnant in the air and the humidity of sweating bodies was an immediate line in the sand. He did have a reputation to keep, however, so what was one girl from the next when his name became a mantra on their lips?

Oliver wasn’t one for drinking, drugs or anything of the sort, either. Despite what his teammates may think, he would never have taken anything beyond a celebratory drink. Even though he’d been offered far worse on multiple occasions.

The professional soccer player couldn’t possibly risk any harm to his health, could he?

But he supposed, if he were to take the strangely glimmering, iridescent pill that was offered to him at the subway station in the dead of night, it’d be catastrophic. Strange things, a man did, when his heart was confused, brimming with reckless abandon.

What was another wound to his soul than what already was?

He’d ingest it against the voice of reason, and his head would start to spin after a few moments. Were there two of those men standing in front of him? The lights would begin to flicker in his vision, and the ground would rise up to meet his face unceremoniously, while he dreamed of a faraway paradise. A paradise filled with gaudy colours, rippling images, and infinite traces of you.

You, you you – your narcotic smell everywhere, your hypnotic laughter around each corner and bend, the hue of your irises flashing in the peripherals of his vision. He’d turn, aching to catch your evasive gaze, but you weren’t there.

Slipping through his fingers like water, fading into the effervescent shoreline. Trying to bottle sunlight – preserve seafoam.

He supposed that’s what loving you was like – would be like – not that he would know. It was an addiction in its own sense; chasing something that wasn’t there, yet yearned to hold.

He supposed that if he ingested that pill, and if all these things happened to him, then loving you was a drug.

He got unbelievably high from your presence, the rapid beating of his heart, your quiet smiles, shared furtive glances, secret whispers, your feather light touch skimming across his skin, your voice’s melodic cadences.

He’d give up anything to try again. To turn time on its head, watch the sand fall inversely through the hourglass and give rise to the words that were lodged in his throat. To stand his ground and not run away like the coward he became when it came to you. But of course, Oliver Aiku was not one for such things either.

And he hated himself for it.

The lights above shone a myriad of colours into his bleary gaze, the ground beneath him rumbling. What was that screeching noise?

It hurt his ears. He wanted to curl into a ball to escape it, but his limbs betrayed him.

His annoyance only spiked as people started to pour onto the platform, the ground shaking with footsteps and indistinct voices.

He told himself that he should move, but the iridescent lights above him were swirling into shapes, and he wanted to watch the bubbles float towards him, shining incandescently.

Wait. Bubbles?

“Oliver? Oh my god.”

He stirred, temples throbbing. Your voice started to haunt him too, it seemed. Lilting, soothing, lovely. He wished you’d speak again. He needed you to say his name again. It sounded like honey when it fell from your lips.

“Oh my god, Oliver, wake up.”

He mumbled something, faintly aware of a face in front of him. Your face. Beautiful, but marked with worry. He willed himself to reach out, to hold your cheek, to brush your hair away from your face, but he couldn’t.

“He’s off. On a trip to another universe. What did that guy give him?” another voice, this one less lovely. A dissonant cadence that had him remembering training. He hated training. Only because his team mates wouldn’t stop pestering him about you, once they’d finally found out about you.

“Hang in there, Oliver. We’ll get you home.”

Home? To him, home was wherever you were. He was entirely content to fall asleep in your arms, on the grimy platform floor.

Arms tried to lift him, but the six foot man was liquid in their arms.

“C’mon, can you move?” his teammate asked. “What did that guy even give you?”

He grumbled something. Tried to get his legs to move. Stumbled backwards, hitting his back on a wall.

“He said “a ticket to heaven for a night”, whatever that means.” You supply.

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Sendo, let’s just carry him. It isn’t too far anyway.” you huffed, looping one of his arms around you. He tried to cling to you with both arms, but his limbs flailed uselessly by his sides.

“Alright, fine. You’re buying me a drink after this, Aiku.” His teammate’s voice irked him, even in this state of bliss.

The walk back to his apartment took far longer than it should’ve. It was quiet, occasionally broken by the heaving of breaths, clouding in the winter air. Wisps of colour followed them out of the subway station. Was that a whale swimming towards them? No, that was just the light. The stupid, colourful light.

He creaked open his eyes, and the world started to swirl in his vision. Were they standing at his elevator? Is that why the wind had stopped blowing into his face? He leaned into your warmth, cheeks red from the cold.

“You can go now, I got him from here.”

“You sure?” His balance slips as Sendo removes himself from Oliver’s grip.

“Yeah. ‘Night, Sendo.”

“Yeah, yeah, message me if something happens. Goodnight.”

You stand there in silence with him, waiting for the elevator to arrive. His face presses into the crook of your neck, stubble grazing your skin as he mumbles something.

“Oliver, what did you do?” you sigh.

He frowns.

“You okay?”

He huffs.

“Silent treatment, or high out of your mind?”

He doesn’t respond. Spots start to appear all over the place. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Waves of dizziness wash over him, and his grip on your arm tightens.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” you haul him into the elevator, leaning against the wall as the ascent starts. Oliver wobbles dangerously, threatening to collapse as his knees start to give out.

“Why did you do this?” you mutter. “Is it because of what I said?”

His eyes snap open. As close to snapping open as his traitorous body would allow in this state of his. Your eyes meet his, and he feels himself wanting to drown in your gaze forever. His mind was just as traitorous as his body.

No, he wants to say. It could never be your fault.

But he doesn’t. His tongue is lead in his mouth, so he just looks at you in a stupor before you sigh and shake your head.

“You don’t have to reciprocate anything. We can still be friends.”

Your confession only hours before had felt like a weight finally lifted from your chest, quickly replaced by another. Heavier, more suffocating. When he’d run from you, it took everything within you to not run after him and beg.

He hated anything remotely permanent, he’d once confided to you. He found an appreciation for the fleeting moments of affection of one night stands and miscellaneous, faceless, nameless women – no strings attached, tying him down. Heaven forbid you become the object of his hatred, along with the object of his – disgust? You couldn’t tell, with Oliver. There was never any telling what he’d do.

You drew the keys from his pocket, unlocking his front door as he stumbled forward, nearly face planting on the floors.

“Come on, you big baby.”

“...Stars.”

“What?”

“Stars on the… ceiling.” me mumbled, eyes half closed.

Worry rushed through you as you seated him on the couch. Just how strong was the drug he took?

“What did you take?” you grasp his shoulders, shaking him lightly. He mumbles something close to ‘Don’t worry’. If anything, you begin to worry more as his head falls to one side.

“Oliver.” Your voice is a song in his ears, drawing up images of the waves at sunrise, bleeding orange, pink and purple into the deep blue of the water.

“Oliver, stay with me.”

“‘M fine.” he manages. “Dizzy.”

“Let me get you some water.” your presence – the warmth of your touch – disappears, and his eyes open in alarm.

He hears the sound of water being poured, then soft footsteps shuffling around. His apartment is dark, the only light drifting in from the balcony, illuminating the room with a pale glow.

“Here, drink.” you lift the glass to his lips, and he begrudgingly takes a couple of sips. Some water spills from the corner of his lips, down his neck. His Adam's apple bobs. His trembling hand comes up weakly to lower the glass, but he doesn’t release his grip as he meets your eyes. Pupils blown out, hardly on this plane of existence.

“I love you.”

You nearly drop the glass.

“You’re high. Say that to me when you’re sober.” you pry free from his grip, setting the glass onto the low coffee table in front of you. “Want to go to bed?”

He shakes his head, the movement apparently as much as he can muster. “Here.”

“Huh?”

“Here. With you.” he mumbles.

“What?”

Then you take a seat next to him, and his head falls onto your shoulder. His body seems to relax in your presence, wholly at peace.

You sigh. If “heaven for one night” meant anything, he’d be fine by morning, but you debated calling an ambulance anyway. Should you call the ambulance? Was that crook at the subway trustworthy? You glance at the peacefully sleeping man beside you, chest evenly rising and falling. He seemed fine, but he had taken drugs from a stranger.

You reach for your phone just as he grumbles, flopping his entire upper body onto your lap.

Okay, no, then.

Oliver’s soft snoring is almost endearing as he nuzzles his face into your thighs. You heave a sigh, running a hand through his neon green edged hair. He seemed to lean into the touch. No, it was your imagination. You lean back against the leather sofa and close your eyes, hoping for the night to pass sooner. Hoping that he’d sober up by morning, and spare you a trip to the emergency room.

Hoping to hear those three words in the lustre of clarity.

—

His dreams were filled with phantoms; phantom hands, faces, touches. Phantom words spoken into the air, disappearing in smoke, and only spurring his guilt. Yet as he woke from his stupor, the world smelled like you. Coaxing him back to the dreamscape. Exhaustion hit him like a tsunami, meeting him with a thundering headache.

His vision didn’t fare any better as he opened his eyes, the world a mess of swirls and blurring patterns. He groaned and flipped over, only to realise where he was.

The disorientation of sleep melted away as he finally came to his senses. Sweat, thinly beaded across his skin, his clothes clinging to his body. He lay curled up on the couch, head nuzzled into the pillows – warm, soft –

“Oliver? You awake?”

He snaps to attention, sitting up the moment he hears your voice.

The plight of his dreams, the palliative cadences that he wished he could despair in.

His head throbbed from the blood rushing to his head, and he swore quietly, swaying as he adjusted.

“How are you feeling? Are you alright?” your eyes are wide with concern, and something in his heart tugs.

The night before is an empty slot in his reel of memory, a smudge of bright, neon lights and dancing shapes as he attempts to recall exactly what happened. How he ended up sleeping on your lap, how you’d ended up at his apartment. Did you sleep over? It looks like you didn’t sleep at all, with the dark circles under your red rimmed eyes.

You abruptly get off the couch, heading into his kitchen. He hears the pouring of water, then you return, gingerly handing him the glass. He takes it, confusion slowly turning to realisation as he remembers.

And the memory of his cowardliness, his recklessness, his awful string of decisions that led him to seeing stars rushes through him like ice cold water.

“You okay?” you ask, voice soft. Treading on eggshells.

He nods, downing the glass of water.

Quiet, strung on a humming wire, envelops you as he attempts to find the words that kept escaping him. The words that he swore he’d never speak, even though you were right in front of him, still worried. Despite it all. You’d stayed, despite everything.

Would he have been a coward for pushing you away? Sparing you from the inevitable heartbreak that he’d dole out like his meaningless plethora of apologies, incapable of anything prolonged more than one night?

“Oliver,” his gaze snaps to you. His name was like ambrosia on your lips. He wanted to hear it spoken again and again, a prayer, a worship, a plea.

“Did we…” he trails off, sheepish. Oliver Aiku, bashful of his escapades.

Your cheeks redden slightly as you shake your head, unwilling to meet his eyes.

Silence, the capricious thing. Teetering on the edge of ruin, speared into disrepair with words that could shatter or mend your heart. Your heart, aching to be given away. Aching for the one that you couldn’t have.

Your name echoes through his empty house. The early morning sunlight peers through the windows, casting warm light on your face. Rejuvenating, almost divine.

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart drops.

“I don’t know how to–” he rubs his face with his hand, heterochromic eyes gazing at some point beyond. “I’ve never had a way with words.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” your bitter smile breaks his heart. Digs the blade in and twists, spilling burning acid into his veins.

He can feel his world crumbling around him as you stand, turning around. Heading for the door, for the threshold beyond that would mean you were finally gone. Finally out of his life, finally gone from the dreams that you haunted, from the touch that he craved.

He should be glad, but instead, like an addicted man, he reaches out, grabbing your arm.

“Wait,”

You turn to face him. Hope glimmers in your eyes and he can only feel guilty. His love wasn’t something that he could offer, his heart wasn’t one that could stay with yours for as long as he would wish, and it was another thing that he despised himself for.

He despised himself for not being able to love you the way you should be.

If only he could put it into words.

“You don’t need to comfort me.”

He sighs. “I’m not trying to comfort you, I just…”

You frown, stepping closer. “Then what, Oliver?”

If only you knew the effect you had. “I don’t have a way with words,” he starts. “But I’ve always believed that actions can speak louder.”

“What are you–”

Your words drown in his mouth as he pulls your mouth down to meet his. He drowns your gasp of shock, offers reassurance with the measured brush of his tongue on your lips. If Oliver had anything to show from his reputation as a womaniser, it was knowing how to treat a woman.

The kiss burns with a fervour that you can only describe as hunger. He kisses like he’s been starved, addicted to your taste, your touch, shivering as your hands wander into his hair. His breath catches in his throat as your nails scrape his scalp, muffling a groan as you bite his lip.

You pull away all too quickly for his liking. His starvation is in his eyes. Your breaths are quick, ragged, and he tries to kiss you again, but you press your index finger to his lips.

“Are you still high?” you ask, voice carrying that hint of joy that he wanted to illuminate.

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

A smile breaks out on your face as he sighs heavily, catching your wrist in his hand. “I might be, but I can think straight.”

A laugh from you, and he thinks he’s doomed. Fated to be wrapped around your finger for the remainder of his sorry life, a jester for your amusement. How quickly the tables have turned on him.

“We’ll see, Aiku.” you press a kiss to his forehead, smile luminescent in the dawn sun. Despite the sleepless night, watching over him in his state of oblivion, you were radiant. The object of his secret desires, the hubris to his mercurial heart.

“Wait, what?” As you turn to leave, he scrambles up from the couch, but his limbs won’t let him catch you. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” you cast him a coy smile. “If your actions speak true, come find me when you’re sober.”

Then the door opens and closes, before he can retort. Gone with the wind, scattered like seafoam on the shores of golden sand.

He falls back onto the couch with a huff, the ceiling still swimming slightly in his vision. Never again, he’d take any drug from any sketchy man in a subway station. He didn’t need drugs, alcohol or women anymore, he could discard his reputation completely. He didn’t need such things anymore – not when he had you.

You, you you, with your haunting presence, eluding his grasp like sunlight in a jar. He’d normally relent, turning to the next woman fawning over him, sweep her off her feet with his aloofness and casanova grin.

But now he had you, and the chase was a thrill that no drug could replicate.

You were his dopamine, he was hopelessly addicted.

written by @atlaswav, published 4th of February, 2024

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comradekatara · 1 day

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sokka, katara, and the paradox of “the gifted child”

something i’ve noticed is a tendency to (mis)characterize sokka as someone who is dismissed due to being a nonbender, when that’s only partially true. sokka is certainly dismissed by some for not being a bender (namely, by benders), but i think there’s a key difference between being dismissed and not being valued in one specific way. katara was valued by her tribe for being a waterbender for the very crucial reason that she was the last one left. had she been a dime a dozen in her tribe, which would have been the case were it not for the systemic extermination of her people, she would not be valued as highly for possessing this skill. that said, while sokka clearly does hold some resentment over his lack of bending ability, calling himself “the guy in the group who’s regular,” i think it’s folly to assume that this means that sokka was dismissed and discarded as “average” while katara was put on a pedestal for being special. because while katara obviously was considered special, sokka is also clearly considered special by his family, merely in different ways. and if anything, sokka embodies the archetypal struggle of the so-called "gifted child” far more than katara does.

while sokka clearly believes himself to be disposable and intrinsically worthless, i don’t think that he was actively neglected by his family. even if katara was clearly marked by her bending as embodying the last hope of their tribe, that doesn’t mean that she was seen as more gifted than he was or was designated as her family’s obvious favorite. for example, the way hakoda talks about sokka (saying he trusted him with leading and protecting the tribe when he was thirteen, calling him a genius, and other such insanely high praises to heap on a child) shows that he clearly views his son as particularly exceptional and has never been shy about showing that. sokka is distinctly insecure around his father for assumptions he makes regarding hakoda's faith in his abilities and his insecurities when it comes to his perceived failure in not measuring up as a man, but from the second we meet hakoda, it's evident that these insecurities are entirely internal and completely unfounded, at least in terms of his father's perception of him. hakoda is nothing but incredibly proud of sokka, constantly emphasizing just how capable and brilliant he believes him to be. whether or not sokka is capable of internalizing it is another story, but it's clear that hakoda is not stingy in his praise and affection, not even a little bit.

moreover, while katara is clearly kanna’s favorite on an emotional level, she nonetheless affords sokka far more respect. she admonishes katara and tells her to do her chores, and notably, she also impresses the importance of “listening to her brother,” and backs up sokka’s decision to banish aang from the village. you can claim that sexism plays a factor in how sokka views his own supposed position of authority, but kanna is a woman who traveled the entire globe as a teenager because she wanted to escape patriarchal impositions dictating her life. she’s simply far too smart to treat sokka as any sort of authority within their village if she did not fully entrust him with that responsibility. she treats sokka almost like a peer, as if she is legitimately co-running the village with a fifteen year old boy.

katara is only a couple years younger than sokka at most, but her dynamic with kanna is very different. on one hand, kanna clearly sees more of herself in katara, can identify with her sense of adventure and rebellious spirit, but on the other hand, it means that she views katara as a child to be taken care of, who needs to be reminded to do her chores and bailed out when she gets herself into trouble. sokka doesn't want to be viewed as a child, and so he does everything in his power to position himself as kanna's equal rather than her grandson. he takes his duties and responsibilities very seriously, and is obedient to a fault whenever he is submitting to any authority he actually respects, especially his father and grandmother. to be honest, a lot of what katara considers coddling is probably just sokka never being bossed around by their grandmother because she never actually has to tell him to do his chores. because despite katara's claim that he simply faffs about "playing soldier," sokka's problem is actually that he takes himself too seriously for her liking. and with the exception of kanna saying "be nice to your sister," which is the kind of teasing a parent says to their child, she clearly respects sokka's position in the village. when katara tries to run away with aang, kanna takes sokka's side and forbids her from acting impulsively, but when sokka is the one who packs supplies and plans to save aang, kanna gives them both her blessing.

katara is the only person who takes umbrage with the notion of sokka running the village and telling her what to do all day. and those frustrations have likely accumulated up from a lifetime of being told to “do as her brother says” and “why can’t she be smarter and more responsible and levelheaded blah blah blah.” she clearly thinks that she’s punching up when she yells at or mocks him, which may seem crazy to anyone who understands that sokka’s entire identity and existence revolves around being katara’s protector, but katara doesn’t actually know this. in her mind sokka is merely the perfect child who has always represented this impossible standard of “genius.” and what's more, he's absolutely insufferable about it.

and to be clear, this isn’t to say that katara herself isn’t highly intelligent, capable, competent, and skilled. she’s not only an incredibly talented waterbender, but also clever, quick, witty, creative, resourceful, practical, mature, and thoughtful in other ways. at one point, toph calls her a genius (“a stinky, sweaty genius”). and she is, indeed, an extremely powerful and innovative waterbender, both due to her hard work, but also because she is genuinely brilliant. that said, she’s smart in the realistic way that a kid is smart; she works hard to be good at what she cares about (and she has an existentially devastating reason to care about being a good waterbender, mind you), and she’s also good at thinking on the fly when she needs to. however, unlike sokka, or even toph, her intellect may be impressive, but it isn’t astonishing. sokka’s mind functions completely anomalously. i wouldn't say he's unrealistically intelligent, because i do know some people in real life who are similarly adept at processing all kinds of different information with the ability to deftly apply it near-immediately, but it is certainly abnormal, both for real world standards and within his universe.

i normally bristle at this term and its applications (for multiple reasons), but since it is explicitly stated multiple times across the show, it is important to acknowledge that sokka is referred to as a genius multiple times, including by his father. katara is referred to as being a genius by toph for using her own sweat to waterbend (which, as hama points out an episode later, isn't even that clever because you can literally bend water from the air around you); conversely, sokka is referred to as a genius for helping to invent hot air balloons and for figuring out multiple escape routes from the world's most secure prison in less than a day. we don't know the exact timeframe under which katara trained with pakku and earned the title of master, but she clearly worked incredibly hard to earn that title, not only as a master, but as the greatest waterbender in the entire world. i assume it was any time between a few weeks and a little over a month in which zhao would organize a fleet to arrive at the north pole, which is, of course, extremely impressive in itself and a testament to her passion and determination. however, on the other hand, piandao claims that sokka has basically mastered the sword and is ready to make his own within less than a day. it's important to remember that katara is also brilliant in her own way, and possesses great skills that sokka lacks: not only bending, but also midwifery, and an ability to locate her own emotions and allow herself to be vulnerable with others, two skills which should never be looked down upon for their association with womanhood and femininity, and are also particularly impressive considering just how young katara is. she is brilliant in her own right, and in any other family, katara would easily have been "the smart one." and yet, sokka is simply in a league of his own.

so, yeah, he can stand to get thrown around and yelled at; everyone her entire childhood just kept on impressing how special and perfect and brilliant he is, he can handle it. she has no idea that he is depressed, depersonalizes, loathes himself, and thinks he’ll never be good enough, because he never actually communicates any of that to her. the closest he ever comes is admitting that he’s jealous due to not having bending abilities, and even that shocks katara, even though it’s such a small and obvious admission in the scheme of things. she has no idea what’s going on with him psychologically, how he views himself in relation to others, and specifically in relation to her, so she kind of just assumes he’s entitled because surely he must know how special he is and thus feels owed accolades by the world at every turn. he deserves to be humbled, and she is in fact righteous for humbling him.

when she makes fun of him for being stupid or miserable or paranoid or cynical, she thinks she’s owning him the way a righteous underdog fights against an oppressor. it's similar to how zuko wants to "put azula in her place." in katara and zuko's minds, they are both the valiant underdog siblings who had to fight and struggle against the siblings for whom everything came so easily. and in katara’s mind especially, she is always punching up, and she always has a moral justification in lashing out at anyone she pleases. so she couldn’t fathom that the reason sokka puts up with her antagonism without complaint isn’t because he’s so above her that he can simply ignore her taunts and gibes without a care (if that were the case, he wouldn't bother to taunt and gibe in return), but rather that he feels so detached from his own personhood that he would never think to actually explain his feelings to the person whom he has defined himself through since childhood. and if he did ever, somehow, communicate that to her, she’d have to reevaluate their whole entire lives and dynamic. but he never will communicate that to her, so she’ll never actually have to do that.

moreover, even though katara often does tease sokka and cast doubt upon his competence and abilities in low-stakes situations constantly, whenever they are actually facing a real problem that requires an immediate solution, katara seems to forget that sokka is supposedly an unhelpful, lazy, immature idiot because she immediately turns to him to fix all their issues. and then once that issue is resolved, katara goes back to finding his existence bothersome. sokka, on the other hand, falls into this role of problem solver instinctually, with the one exception that when they actually name him as the idea guy, he jokingly complains that it’s a lot of pressure to be one who is always expected to come up with solutions. and while he is joking during that conversation in “the drill,” he’s being honest to an extent, because his perfectionism and fear of failure is truly dire.

when katara is faced with failure, whether as the consequences for her own actions or otherwise, she simply gets back up and tries again. she can’t be knocked down, she can’t be deterred from achieving her goals. she has a very healthy approach to making mistakes, and while she doesn’t always learn from them in the longterm, she does always try her best to fix them and amend the situation as immediately as possible. katara is someone who is incredibly resilient and is constantly demonstrating the sheer magnitude of her inner strength, especially in particularly difficult moments. she has the ability to fail as many times as it takes without letting that failure affect her own self-esteem or desire to keep striving for what she believes in.

sokka, on the other hand, is very physically resilient (he gets beat up a lot), but his emotional resilience is actually quite pathetic. he has no tools for coping with failure. from even the slightest mistake, like not actually being able to open the doors at the fire temple with his makeshift explosives, to a catastrophic one, like his failed invasion, sokka immediately retreats inward. in “the boiling rock,” sokka demonstrates how his first ever real failure that rests squarely on his own shoulders is so devastating to him that he becomes totally irrational and suicidal in an attempt to “rectify” the situation. he does not know how to cope with failure, because he expects himself to be perfect at all times. and it’s not because sokka is overly proud, but rather that his guilt complex is so profound that he blames himself for every single thing that goes awry at all times, even when it isn’t actually his fault whatsoever. so that guilt and shame is magnified a thousand fold when sokka is actually culpable for those losses.

one of many ways in which it is evident that sokka is the older sibling is that he clearly lives with the mentality that if katara messes up or gets herself in danger due to her own impulsive inclinations, it’s always actually sokka’s fault for not being a better, more attentive brother. when she sets off the booby trap in the banned ship, sokka banishes aang from the village so as to protect katara from herself. when katara experiences the consequences of heedlessly blowing up a factory, sokka gets mad at her for her recklessness, but also immediately finds a way to help her fix this situation, because that’s his job, and in fact, his primary purpose on this earth. this is a dynamic sokka has probably internalized even before he was assigned the role of her sworn protector, because that’s just how being the eldest is.

sokka’s tendency to take responsibility for everyone else’s mistakes and his desire to shoulder everyone else’s pain at all times, coupled with his implicit belief that he, uniquely, cannot afford to mess up ever (if other people make mistakes it’s fine and he can help them fix it, but if he makes mistakes he no longer has a purpose on this planet, goodbye cruel world), definitely indicates that he was held to an incredibly high standard all his life. he expects himself to be able to handle a lot of responsibility with perfect ease because he always has. he isn’t used to making mistakes of any kind. if he puts his mind into learning a new skill, he always masters it within a couple of days, whatever that skill happens to be. unlike katara, sokka is used to things coming easily to him, and what he isn’t used to is failure.

katara and sokka are both exceptional, of course, but in very different ways, and for very different reasons. katara grew up with a lot of external pressure to excel as a waterbender, because she needs to embody her cultural legacy and prove that her mother’s sacrifice was not in vain. it’s an unfathomable burden to place on a child, and the rate at which she improves her waterbending once she is actually given the resources to hone her skills is a testament to her perseverance and untiring dedication. katara becomes the greatest waterbender in the world not because she is a natural prodigy (which is something she bristles at when aang does display prodigious skill), but because she is incredibly determined and no one can outmatch the strength of her heart and unshakable commitment when she is pursuing a goal. as pakku even says, raw talent isn’t everything, and katara’s abilities prove that despite not being “naturally gifted,” hard work and determination is far more important when it comes to excelling in any given domain.

however, if katara’s motivation to be excellent is externally imposed by the tragic circumstances of her life, sokka’s motivations are, at the very least, internally maintained. as aforementioned, i have no doubt that he received a lot of external validation and praise from the adults in his life as a child with a dazzling, brilliant mind. as has been established, sokka is constantly displaying an ability to synthesize new information at a staggering rate, which likely means that before katara had even discovered her ability to waterbend, sokka was probably being fawned over for the impressive rate at which he was picking up new skills as a baby. since pretty much everything (cerebral, at least) comes easily to sokka, i can only imagine that hakoda, who never hesitates to express to his children how proud he is of them, would constantly affirm sokka’s intellect. and by boasting that sokka takes after himself (hakoda also refers to himself as a genius, completely sincerely), he unwittingly plants the first seeds in fostering sokka’s belief that he must be exactly like his father in every way, and that any deviation from hakoda’s image would prove him unworthy. but he will never be the spitting image of hakoda the way that katara is "the spitting image of kanna" because sokka is already the spitting image of kya, if not – perish the thought – his own person entirely.

unlike katara, who spent her whole childhood trying to waterbend by herself with little success (beyond, of course, isolated instances demonstrating her sheer raw power when her bending was being influenced by her incredibly strong and passionate emotions), sokka always felt like he could handle the amount of responsibility he was given, because everything came easily to him. until the day that his life changed forever, and suddenly the stakes were no longer abstract, but tangible and personally devastating. sokka had never learned that it was okay to fail as a child because he never had a reason to, and then suddenly, he could not afford to fail under any circumstances. failure of any kind went from being a (purely hypothetical) blow to the ego, to being something that could directly endanger the lives of his loved ones. and so sokka decides that the only way to not be culpable for his potential failures is to be a martyr.

of course, there are instances in which sokka is proven to be inept, such as on kyoshi island or with piandao, wherein his humility and open-mindedness are put on display and sokka puts aside his own standards of perfection to learn from a master, but i don't think these instances qualify as failures. for one thing, sokka happens to master the forms he is being taught in less than a day, at an unprecedented rate, and thus these initially humiliating blindspots in his knowledge become victories as sokka absorbs new knowledge. sokka is always eager to learn, and willing to acknowledge his lack of expertise in area, humbling himself to learn from others any chance he gets. no, what i mean by "failure" as it relates to sokka's self-perception and ego is not a lack of knowledge, but an inability to protect another. to sokka, his existence is defined by his ability to provide and protect, and thus, a failure is, specifically, when someone gets hurt under his watch. that is what it means to not be able to afford to fail. he is not overly proud (if anything he is overly insecure), but he also understands that the stakes of failure – real failure – are tangible.

so when it comes to failure that carries grave consequences, he would rather be dead than fallible (or, responsible for not adequately protecting his loved ones), one million times over. and so every time someone makes a sacrifice for him, he feels as if he has failed on a fundamental level, because simply being exceptional is not enough, he must also bear the entire world’s suffering alone – as (in his mind) hakoda instructed him to when he left him behind to protect and provide for the village. otherwise he has failed in his promise to be needed, which is his raison d’être. sokka’s complex is very obviously not informed solely by his upbringing as a “gifted kid,” and in fact largely informed by the dehumanizing logic of war as it necessitates sacrifice, but his inability to accept his own fallibility as a product of his self-dehumanization is, at the very least, compounded by his debilitating perfectionism.

thus, katara and sokka's dynamic within their family isn’t “gifted kid and neglected kid,” but rather “two gifted kids who are gifted in different ways, one of those ways being valued more on a cultural level due to its scarcity as a byproduct of genocide.” while katara was put on a pedestal her entire life due to her ability to waterbend, it doesn’t mean that sokka wasn’t put on a pedestal in other ways. if anything, the reason hakoda entrusted a child with the burdens he did was specifically because he put his son on a pedestal. sokka assumes that hakoda didn't think he was capable enough to join his army, but that couldn't be further from the truth. hakoda trusted his thirteen year old son so much that he genuinely thought it best to leave him alone with this duty to defend his village and protect katara at all costs. he didn't leave a single man behind, not even the other teenage boys, because that's how much faith he had in a child to take his responsibilities seriously and perform them competently. and if that decision gave sokka one million different complexes and fucked him up for life, it wasn’t because he wasn’t valued for his abilities, it’s because he was overvalued and given too much responsibility at too young an age.

both he and katara struggled to live up to the expectations placed on them, forced to fulfill the roles of their parents instead of being allowed to exist as children. but crucially, katara sees the injustice in that, and clings to her childhood even as she strives for greatness, and sokka simply doesn't. he's long accepted that injustice, and in fact feels guilty that he cannot better live up to the impossible portrait of an idolized father, an idealized masculinity, an illusory model of the infallible, unshakeable warrior. despite all his achievements and natural giftedness, he nonetheless feels totally inadequate, deeply flawed, and ontologically worthless. perhaps, in a world beyond the pressures of war and its dehumanizing logic, sokka would have internalized the praise he was constantly receiving his whole life for his gifts. but since he was only ever a prodigy in ways that didn’t matter (within that colonized paradigm), he doesn’t actually care about how clever and brilliant and creative and talented and unique and special he is, because that would first require him to see himself as fully human, and he can’t even do that.

#analysis #sokka #katara #katara&sokka #hakoda #kanna #kya #hakoda&sokka #kanna&sokka #kya&sokka #kanna&katara #whew...! 20+ paragraphs about sokka and katara’s childhood. it’s more likely than u think (highly likely at all times)#see but this is why sokka is so clearly a mirror to azula to me #like not just in terms of crippling perfectionism and devastating fear of failure and being a child prodigy who is put on a pedestal #but simultaneously dehumanized etc etc #but also the fact that like. zuko treats her the same way katara treats sokka #he clearly thinks his immediate hostility and aggression towards her is like. him nobly fighting the battle against his tormentor #when that is literally his little sister and she is struggling so much and desperate for support from LITERALLY ANYONE #katara and zuko are like ‘let’s put azula in her place’ and high five #and that’s just so fucking apt because they truly do believe that it’s their duty to put their perfect prodigy siblings ‘in their place’#but those are truly two of the most miserable people on the planet #so to any outside observers it’s just like………. why are you being mean to them they’re literally suicidal and shaking like a leaf #but also everyone already knows that azula is the prodigious gifted sibling bc zuko says it like one million times #so there’s rly no need to argue that #whereas katara loves calling sokka an idiot so i do believe that some clarification is in order #but like. yeah there’s no way sokka was dismissed or neglected as a child #he’s dismissed and neglected by the world at large #but within his tribe he’s like a mini celebrity . he’s their young sheldon (sorry)#anyway im running out of room to write tags but um. perfectionism is a disease get well soon xoxo bye

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bonefall · 4 months

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maybe with the ending.. make it be like the link between Breezepelt's leaving to join Kin and his POV in AVOS? of course from Nightcloud's perspective but

like. she would be injured and recovering away from the clan. but they would be unaware that she is alive and like in canon assume she died and hold her a vigil. Breezepelt, who is already at low point, taking it very badly - yes he was pushing her away bc he was hurt and angry and started taking it out on her, but.. it's still his mom. his Mi. and she is dead? or is this stupid clan just going to believe this to make it easier? are they really giving up on looking for her, or her body??

i can see Nightcloud being the one of very few, if not THE Only one, things that kept Breezepelt in WindClan at this point. and without her, what's the point? it's not like anyone else likes him. the link is gone and they buried it in a bodyless vigil. so it's what pushes him to actuall take the step and leave.

not sure how well it would align with the timeline and events. and how soon Darktail was assembling cats from other clans like Breeze. but i think it would be interesting and heartbreaking if at the end of her SE, Nightcloud just arrived back to WindClan and asks where Breezepelt is and someone tells her.. he either was missing since this morning or just left the clan earlier the same day. like, just have them miss each other by a hair.

I'm thinking that the second-to-last chapter is her with Pickle, having a bit of a sabbatical to unpack everything that happens through the story. Mostly because I want to throw her into some kind of pretty garden as a nice setting for this lmaoo

A LOT of BB stuff is being added to Nightcloud's Pannage that wasn't in the main series; Hillrunner's abuse, her mentor Addersong, several expanded little background characters now complete with their own side conflicts. I think what I can bind all these things with is Nightcloud considering what a Clan means.

Because of her new reputation, I'm noticing I'm writing scenes where she's intentionally doing and saying things to try and sway them. While also grappling with her resentment towards them, and things she can't change.

There's a bit of a melancholy air so far, so I'm starting to feel like the best ending is just having a bit of space to herself to think. Ultimately, she decides that it's more than Breezepelt or Crowfeather that binds her to WindClan. It's the life and connections she COULD have.

WindClan cats are also quite religious next to other Clans, so I really do mean "sabbatical." I'm going to have Addersong die of old age shortly after they reconnect, so she's in Pickle's Garden talking to her new friend, choosing cats she's lost to pray to as patron spirits to give her the traits she feels she needs, and just recovering both physically from injury and spiritually from turmoil.

So all that to say; it works well that by the time she gets back, Breezepelt has joined The Kin. He was one of the first to join when he started calling for members anyway, so having Night be gone for about two or three weeks sounds appropriate.

#I'm still working out WHAT the injury was though #I just know for sure that Night was in some DEEP trouble. Possibly being attacked by a fox or dog #And she can't tell for sure if it was gratitude or hunger or the brief influence of StarClan shining through the sow's eyes #But Marge does an RKO OUTTA NOWHERE and kills what was attacking her #Before scuttling off with her three surviving humbugs into the mist #And when Nightcloud wakes up she's at The Pickle Jar #Too injured to travel and kinda understand she needs the time to unpack some stuff anyway #Wanting to get home desperately ofc to stand by Breeze #But also... StarClan has probably placed her here. Away from the Clan. For a reason.#Especially with Pickle in particular since she's grappling with how her reactionary xenophobia has affected people through her life #I have a LOT of little ideas for NcP #Which I'll need to trim and focus I think #As-is I think it's meandering BUT it's good to get EVERYTHING down in a first draft #Better bones au #I actually have a crowf ref finished and planned to post that with a summary lmaooooooo #Sorry Crow. I like ur wife too much #Nightcloud's Pannage

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plan-3-tmars · 3 months

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Is this what Happiness is?

- hey so I haven't seen an interpretation of the bar scenes in Half that I fully agree with, so I wanted to throw my own two cents out there into the void and pray that it makes sense !!!

so, in the bar scenes in Half we see what I interpret as a hangout with old friends (or, hangout with old friend + his wife.) These scenes used to be the biggest piece of evidence for the cheater theory, but now that that's been debunked by the man himself, I have a new way of looking at them

~ before I go any further, I just wanted to say that I'll be calling the brown-haired woman whiskey for simplicity's sake

In this scene, Kazui turns to look at Whiskey, saying the lyrics:

"laughing together, side by side, this distance in our relationship is misleading me, is this what happiness is?"

With my guess (cuz that's really what it is there's no evidence for it) that Whiskey is the Bartender's wife i think this scene is Kazui being conflicted with what he's been told is true, that marrying Hinako is "true love", versus what he feels is true, that marrying Hinako has brought distance into their relationship.

He looks at Whiskey, a woman happily married, and wonders why his relationship with Hinako isn't like that.

~ shout out to @prisoner-000 for the following screenshot

in this post he points out that Hinako and Kazui's rings are silver in Cat, not gold like they were in Half, yet Bartender's ring colour stays the same.

For the sake of this writing I'm going to go with the first meaning they put out, that Bartender's ring is gold because his marriage is genuine.

But wait!! I hear you ask. This is Half and Kazui's ring is still gold in Half!! EXACTLY MY FRIEND!!

Kazui's ring IS still gold in Half because at the time of these scenes he's still fooling himself that this relationship is good, that he will eventually garner real romantic feelings for Hianko.

"laughing together, side by side, this distance in our relationship is misleading me, is this what happiness is?"

Remember this lyric that plays during the Whiskey -> Hinako scene. You know what other scene in Half this lyric reminds me of?

laughing together, side by side,

this distance in our relationship is misleading me,

is this what happiness is?

He's beginning to doubt if what he believes is true, he's beginning to believe the feelings telling him something's wrong (and remember, the scene right after this one is when he confesses (?) his secret to Hinako) ARE infact true, and that maybe the logic he's been following for so long has a couple holes in it.

I think these scenes are meant to show Kazui gradually realising that his relationship with Hinako will not work out. It just won't, no matter how hard he tries.

He's able to laugh together and talk with Whiskey because she's his friend, yet he can't do the same with his own wife? Even though, according to his gold ring, their relationship is supposed to be real and true and genuine?

#thats not even getting into the gay theory implications btw #bar kazui staring at audience kazui with the lyrics “all these memories and you / only if i could erase them”#because his crush on his friend literally haunts him and his relationship with hinako (the green apple)#confessing his love to his friend “just so its out in the open” because he so desperately needs to get it off his chest #most likely having his feelings not reciprocated as his friend his married and staring at his wife #who then transitions into hinako / wondering why he does not feel the same happiness with her than he does at the bar #because he's lying to himself and he's lying to her #he *knows* that their relationship is not happiness and yet he hides in denial #because it's not like he will be able to find his happiness anyway as his friend is already taken #sorry #this doesnt rlly make sense and i'm aware of that i wish i could beam what im trying to get at into ur head #unfortunately its nearly 11pm and when i was brainstorming this idea i had a nap and NEVER WROTE MY THOUGHTS DOWN (biggest mistake ever)#someone with a bigger vocabulary pls come and pick this up and explain it better thank youuuy #anyway just hope you get what im trying to say #thats all #sorry for the ramble in tha tags but also this is my house so #milgram #kazui mukuhara #hinako mukuhara #milgram theory #ig i never know what to title these

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beanghostprincess · 3 months

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Okay you're making me obsessed with Sabosan- I'm in need to posts about them

Just an AU where they meet during childhood, like, Sabo and his parents go to Germa bc of some politic shit and he don't want to be there so he just walks around.

And be accident he finds Sanji outside the castle, crying, and he knows he is one of the princes since they were already presented to each other. But the boy is hurt and crying so much that Sabo can't not help him.

In the beggining Sanji is scared, but soon he notices the other blonde don't want to beat him like his brothers. They talk all the day and for the first time in Sanji's life, he feels like he made a friend.

When Sabo's family has to go back to Goa, both kids are sad but hope to meet again soon. After this, everything in Sanji's past happens (Sora's death, he being locked and running away).

Month's later, the nobles from Goa go again to Germa and Sabor receive the terrible news that Sanji is dead. This broke's his heart 'cause the boy was sweet and kind and even just being with each other during one day he was sure the prince was amazing.

Since Sanji were 8 and Sabo 9 during this, ge just meet Luffy one year later and all he can think sometimes is how much the two would love each other. But don't matter now, his friend is dead.

Everything happens, and years later he remember everything and all he can think is how he forget them? How he let other person he loves die? The boy is broke bc he lose another person.

And he is going to meet Luffy's crew, hearing his young brother talk about them when he says about a guy named Sanji and- Sabor freezes, he ask about him and this boy is identical to his dead friend- but can't be him, right...? He can't have hope.

When they arrive in the ship, he's knowing everyone and then he go to the kitchen with Luffy to meet said boy and- it's Sanji, alive. Breathing, older and so much beautiful.

And Sanji is looking at him too and- both are in shock. Luffy is there, confused and looking at the two. "Luffy, can I talk for a moment with your friend?" Sabo asks intenting to not show how he is emotional.

"Uh? You know each other?" Luffy ask but go outside the kitchen anyway, they still are silent during some minutes. Sanji is read to say something when Sabo hugs him.

"I thought you were dead" is all he says and the blackleg hugs him back, feeling bad for making Sabo think this.

Both don't say much, but they are happy they're together again.

Agh, you all know I am extremely weak for childhood AUs!!!!! This is beautiful :(

I can't stop thinking about Sanji obviously getting forced to meet Sabo, but he doesn't really want to because he always hates it when important people come over. Yes, his father is more distracted with them, but that leaves them a free day from training, and sometimes those are even worse than regular days. Because even if his brothers already make fun of him and beat him up when they train, whenever they're not doing anything it's even worse because they take their time and it's a complete nightmare. Besides, introducing himself with the name Vinsmoke has always made him want to throw up, even from a very early age, and there's this uneasy feeling inside of him whenever Judge speaks about him normally instead of saying how much of a disappointment he is. He prefers that rather than him lying to strangers because he knows what he says isn't true. He doesn't consider him his son, and he doesn't see him as his father either. It's nauseating.

When Sabo and Sanji get introduced along with the other Vinsmoke siblings, Sanji doesn't want to look up. He has to, of course, but he doesn't feel like being there at all. But he's even more scared of what might happen if he doesn't do what Judge says. When he looks up, he can tell that the kid in front of him doesn't want to be here either. He's good at pretending, though. He smiles politely and shakes their hands and it's obvious that he's been trained to act that way, but he doesn't look at all like a noble. He has a missing tooth and scratches in his hands and face and it's quite obvious that he tries to cover it (not him, his parents) but it isn't working for Sanji. Besides, there's this rage in his eyes that Sanji can't quite place but he knows something is going on with him. That just scares him even more, because, even if it's not the same rage his brothers have in their eyes, it's still rage. If he was a simple kid like all the others that have come to their kingdom with their families, Sanji would not be that worried, but he isn't. And Sanji fears the worst because he can't figure him out.

On the other hand, Sabo wants to jump off a bridge. He would rather drown than be here. Get the kid out of there!!!!!!!! He didn't want to come at all but his parents wouldn't stop pressuring him and tbh it was easier to end this quickly so he could go home even quicker (home being Gray Terminal and next to Ace, thank you very much). So he's on his best behavior so he can just quickly go back home. He hates them. The kids, he means. Rich, spoiled brats that are modified to be that way. To be selfish. To kill. It's disgusting and he despises how the father talks with so much pride about it. But- But he never, not even once, mentions the blond. He talks praise about all of his kids except him, but he also doesn't even mention him. Sabo can tell his name is Sanji because his brothers won't stop teasing him about stuff Sabo can't understand, but he knows enough to get that something's off. Whatever. Not his fight. Not his siblings. Not his responsibility.

But his sense of responsibility and morals are already strong enough to make him overly sensitive to this stuff, so he watches the behavior of the kids carefully. Their parents tell them to go do whatever because they're talking about "grown-up stuff" and they need to form "royal bonds for future needs" or whatever bullshit they keep making up. And, uh, Sabo fucking hates it. The kids are scary as fuck. Like, creepy. Type of thing he wishes Ace were with him for because this is way worse than the things they've seen happening at Gray Terminal. The way they speak about the staff and human lives is just disgusting. With no emotion in their voices other than plain selfishness and cruelty. They show Sabo around the castle and- And Sanji isn't around anywhere? Apparently? When he asks where he might be, that's when his brothers start trash-talking him. Calling him a coward. A weakling. Worse things Sabo does not want to repeat but- But it's just extremely fucked up. But again, not his fight. He can keep an eye on them but not intervene because he really, really wants to go home soon. And he's pretty sure this is just the way siblings talk about each other. Rich, noble siblings, at least. Even if Sanji seemed different, he's still one of them.

Sabo eventually gets bored of them, and also they're disgusting to be around. So he just disappears and hopes they don't give a fuck about him to look for him. That's when he finds Sanji crying outside of the castle. He really knows he shouldn't intervene. He never does when he goes to these meetings. But Sanji seems different. He's crying. These kids, in theory, should not be able to feel like this, right? There's just something so human about him, from the first second they saw each other, that Sabo can't help but want to protect him. He's not much older than him, but still. Sanji looks way weaker and shorter in comparison, and,, And in need of someone. Like he's always asking for help.

And so they talk. Sabo approaches him and the first thing Sanji does is flinching. He thinks Sabo is going to hit him, apparently? What the fuck. Sabo instantly kneels beside him to tell him that he is definitely not here for this, and why the hell would he even think that?? Sanji doesn't reply, of course, he just hugs his knees closer to his chest and looks away, hoping for Sabo to not ask more questions. But Sabo notices this glint of hope in his eyes that he doesn't want to show. Like begging for him to get him out of there. Sabo just sits beside him in a very nonchalant and very not noble way and starts talking. He tells Sanji how he doesn't want to be here either, and trash-talks his family and nobility and starts saying all of these things he only tells Ace about. He usually doesn't trust people so easily, and Ace would kill him for this, but Sanji needs this. And apparently, it doesn't bother him at all to give him this. Sanji starts opening up little by little, hope in his eyes and excitement starting to come out of his voice when they change subjects. Sanji, apparently, isn't like his siblings. In any way. And he likes cooking and sea creatures too! Sabo has a lot of stories to tell about those! And they keep talking and talking and hours pass and suddenly Sabo doesn't want to go home. It's not only fun to be here, but scary to leave if it means never seeing Sanji again and leaving him here. Especially when he tells him about everything his family does to him (because they end up talking about that) and he has to hold Sabo back from yelling because he has never been angrier in his entire fucking life. What the hell does this family think they are? Sanji doesn't deserve this. He's nice. Cute, too. Smart. Extremely sweet and empathetic. Selfless. Kindness itself.

But time moves quickly and they have to return to their ship. He hates leaving Sanji. He really does. But they promise to see each other again! He even gives Sanji his white handkerchief. The one he likes. The one that's all ripped and worn out. Because it's the one he uses the most. The one he uses when he's with Ace! And it has his initials engraved there, but the S is the only thing that can be seen, so it's okay! Sanji keeps it like a reminder of freedom and the fact that they'll for sure see each other again!

But they don't.

Because the news of Sanji dying reach Sabo and he's devastated. It's so unfair. And it's true. He knows he's dead and he can't do anything about it. But he also knows his family had something to do with it because he's not stupid. He has to move on past the rage, though, even if it's extremely infuriating and frustrating. He has to move on. Sanji, on the other hand, doesn't let go of the handkerchief and Sabo's words, even if he has lost all hope. Yadda, yadda, yadda, you know how the story goes. So Reiju helps Sanji escape and he knows he'll probably never see him again, but he still hopes. Sabo thinks, meanwhile, when he meets Luffy, that he'd love Sanji. With how much he keeps talking about food and dreams! And Sanji would love being here too. Well, not really, because Gray Terminal doesn't seem at all like something Sanji would enjoy, but it for sure would be better than Germa. And Sabo would be able to protect him too. It doesn't matter now, though.

Time-skip moment. Sabo remembers his childhood and his brothers and Sanji. And Ace just died. So great. It seems that the world is always against him. He doesn't have much time to think about Sanji because right now the only thing he has in mind is Ace, his fruit, and finding Luffy. But Sanji's image, for some reason, keeps appearing in his mind. He isn't sure why, but it's still engraved there. He tries to forget him, but now that he truly wants to forget, he doesn't. Fuck it. Well. Dressrosa happens. Yay! He got a brother back and Ace's fruit. Yadda yadda. We know how it goes.

He doesn't actually get to meet Sanji in Dressrosa because I'm trying to be loyal to the timeline, so let's say that this is post-wano and pre-egghead (and Sabo is fine and he isn't in the huge mess he's in right now). Sabo goes "oh, I want to pay an actual visit to my brother's crew. I didn't get to meet everyone properly" and that's when the cool stuff happens.

You know, he tells Robin first about it and she informs the crew and stuff. When Sabo gets there, the only one on deck is Luffy, so of course he gets all excited and jumps to hug him and keeps talking about his crew and how much he's gonna love everyone! Like Nami because she's super smart like him!!! And Usopp because he has the coolest inventions!! And Sanji because he is the best cook-

Wait, Sanji?

And it can't be, because his Sanji is dead. His Sanji can't be Luffy's Sanji, right? Impossible. He guesses it might be just a coincidence and tries to move on from Luffy's words. But then he starts meeting everyone and Sanji gets out of the kitchen to greet him and- Oh. Okay. Yeah. That's definitely him. He has not forgotten those eyebrows and blue eyes and bangs. He could tell it's him from a mile away. Sabo thinks it's his memory playing with him, but then he remembers Sanji's sudden death without any explanation and blames his young self for not realizing sooner what truly happened. What's funny is that Sanji had the same reaction, because when Luffy talks about Sabo for the first time, he freezes at the name. But he guesses it can't really be him, and Luffy doesn't talk enough about him for Sanji to make the correlation.

But no, yeah, it's definitely him.

As you said, they both freeze. And it's actually kind of weird because everybody is looking at them, but they're only focusing on each other so it's also extremely romantic. Sabo tries to act calm and collected when he asks Luffy if he can speak to Sanji in private, and Luffy instantly says:

Luffy: It's to ask for extra food, right?! I am not going to steal yours like when we were kids! I don't do that anymore! Usopp: He still does that. Luffy: But Sabo can have whatever he wants! Sanji will make it! But not more than me. I'm sure you're gonna do it just to piss me of- Sabo: Luffy, you can have all of my food if you want to. Just let me talk to him for a second. Luffy: ?? But why?! It's been so long. I want to be with you! Sabo: Because- Sanji: If you let us talk in private I'll give you two desserts. And more meat. We'll have whatever you want tonight. Luffy: OH! AWESOME! Nami: What is this about again? Franky: Yeah... It looks like you two know each other. Sanji: Who says we don't? Luffy: YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER? Sabo: No. Not- Luffy. Give us a moment. *They go into the kitchen together* Zoro: First he's a prince and now he's fucking Luffy's brother. Are we sure Curly doesn't have anything else to tell us? Luffy: He's not- Nami: Shut up!! I can't listen to their conversation through the door if you keep talking!

(She doesn't hear them at all, actually, because the others keep talking and Sabo and Sanji are pretty quiet and she gets bored of trying to spy on them).

They don't really know what to do except to stare at each other. Sanji is about to make some joke or something to make things lighter, but Sabo goes and instantly hugs him tight. Sanji feels he's about to start crying. Especially when Sabo says "I thought you were dead" / "Well, I am not" / "I can see that" / "I- I'm sorry. I truly hoped we could meet but- Things have been a little- Fuck. Just. I'm sorry. Judge- My-" / "Yes. I know. I mean. I don't know, but it's obvious you don't want to talk about it now and I know it's your shitty father's fault. Don't worry about it" / "... Alright" / "Is it weird if I don't want to let go of you?" / "Shut up. You're the one making it weird" / "You grew up. Quite a lot. Remembered you so tiny and cute" / "Oh, fuck you, I am not-" / "Still cute, though" / "You were nicer to me back then" / "You were less sarcastic" / "Touche" / "Hey! So you finally got to be a cook! And for the future king of the pirates! How does that feel?" / "Tiring. Exhausting. Frustrating... A dream come true" / "....... You look happier" / "I am.... Hey? Can you keep like- Holding me for a while? Because-" / "It's okay. Yes. If I let go of you I might start sobbing. This is fine. As long as we don't move, we're fine" / "Great". (Also have in mind that this is post-wano so Sanji is extremely sensitive and wants to kind of sort of die. This is probably the best thing that has happened to him lately. Or ever)

And this is getting reaaaally long already so to end this just say that they definitely end up kissing at some point and dating and then uh, things™ happen. But just think about them having a happy ending. I- I want to write a fanfic now. You can't do that to me. Ughhh. What if I did- What if I did write this fic- Thinking thoughts.

#they're my absolute beloveds #they make me go insane yes #aaaaaaa i love them so much i am so sorry this is long kjwefkbfkjeb #i got a bit carried away and i still have more ideas #like sanji telling him he still has the handkerchief like wtf gay people #also sanji cooking for him i am gonna die #and them staring at each other during dinner #and then seeing each other at night while everybody is asleep because sabo stays for a while and #and look can i write this please this was such a good idea and i need it right now in my veins #i know i say this a lot but this time i want to finish this #IF YOU WANNA WRITE IT THO YOU CAN DO IT IT WAS YOUR IDEA AFTER ALL BESTIE #but if you do tag me bc i am in desperate need of sabosan #one piece #black leg sanji #revolutionary sabo #strawhat pirates #sabosan #sabo x sanji

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ask-world-academys-host-club · 7 months

Note

Do the Vargas brothers or NA twins ever work together as pairs?

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daylighteclipsed · 2 years

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actually it’s kinda funny how KH1 ends with Riku telling Sora to take care of Kairi and then Sora completely does not do that and searches for Riku refusing to go home at all without him

#kingdom hearts #soriku #like from the hetnorm view of ‘ah the love triangle is resolved! sora gets the girl and who knows when we’ll see riku again !#there’s even a montage in sepia like he’s dead ! but that’s okay cause sora will be happy with kairi :)’#and then sora immediately not going home with kairi #and the epilogue or whatever showing he’s looking for riku #that’s p funny i can’t lie #i love how CoM has repliku literally call sora out on this too #and sora has nothing to say bc what can he say #he feels bad but he’s not sorry #his pride won’t let him say what he wants to say ‘i want you to come home. i miss you’#especially with ‘riku’ acting like a jerk again. sora doesnt want to risk coming across desperate or weak. pathetic #which is ironic since bc i think if sora was willing to say how much riku means to him that would’ve had an affect on repliku #bc that’s what kh1 era riku needs to hear right? he needs to know that sora really loves him #and isn’t just playing hero for his ego or bc kairi is waiting for riku to come back or something #…which makes the kh2 reunion hit harder. bc all of sora’s walls are down then and he is basically pouring his heart out to riku #he’s weak and he doesn’t care. he’s pathetic but it’s not a bad thing #he’s just being honest about how much riku means to him

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estrellami-1 · 1 year

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Birthday Surprise

Happy birthday to the GREATEST of all humans!!! Even though you don’t consume ST things the way I do, I hope you accept this small token (as well as the nails… and the tea… and the text… 😂). Love you babe! ❤️ @doubledeckersofa

“Stevie,” Eddie crooned, soft and low.

Steve hummed as he was dragged away from sleep, frowning in the morning light. He opened an eye to peer at Eddie. “‘S early. Hav’a nightmare?”

Eddie chuckled, a rush of breath over Steve’s cheek. “No, sweet thing. Wanted to make sure I said it first.”

Steve frowned again, sluggishly moving closer to Eddie, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “Said what?”

Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Happy birthday,” he whispered, and suddenly Steve was wide awake.

“Oh,” he murmured, smiling when Eddie chuckled. “I forgot.”

“You forgot your birthday?”

“Well if someone hadn’t woken me up at the asscrack of dawn…”

Eddie snorted. “Check again, babe, it’s nine.”

Steve frowned at him. “You’re lying.”

“Nope.” He popped the p. “‘Course, that happens when you don’t go to bed ‘til the next morning.”

“Yeah, what was it, like three?”

“Just about.”

“Which means you woke me up after six hours. Jesus fuck, Eds, how are you awake right now? And functioning?”

“Says the one who just did math.” He gently poked Steve’s cheek. “You’re… you’re not mad, right? That I woke you?”

Steve playfully snapped his teeth at the finger floating by his face, then turned to press a kiss to Eddie’s collarbone. “No. But I am going back to sleep.”

Just then, someone banged on the trailer door. “Steve? Steve! I know you’re there, man, open up!”

Dustin.

Steve groaned and pushed his face into the pillow. “How much would we have to pay Wayne to threaten Dustin into going away?”

Eddie snorted. “I like how you think that would work at all. You know Wayne adores Dustin.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get the door before he wakes up? And start the coffee? I’m gonna get dressed.”

“On it,” Eddie promised, pressing one last kiss to Steve’s lips.

Just then, the trailer door opened, and Steve and Eddie shared a look. “Too late. He’s up.”

“How upset’s he gonna be?”

Eddie chuckled. “I think you should come out here with me. Wayne’s got a way about him. You might even see an apology outta Dustin.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he sat up and pulled on the first shirt he could find. “Now that would be a birthday miracle.”

They stumbled out into the living room together, Steve snickering as Eddie almost tripped over his own feet. “Shuddup,” he muttered, shoving lightly at Steve’s shoulder before pulling him close to smack another kiss to his temple.

“Sap,” Steve muttered, and Eddie grinned.

Wayne cleared his throat, and they stopped short. “Your boy’s got somethin’ to say.”

Eddie elbowed Steve. “Toldja,” he muttered.

Wayne gave Eddie a look, and he looked down. “Sorry.”

“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Dustin said. “For interrupting your rest and banging on the door and, uh, making a general nuisance of myself.” He glanced up at Wayne, who nodded.

Steve sighed. “It’s alright. I know you get excited. If you could just remember there are other people in the world, you’d be set.”

“Yeah. Um, in my defense I did come over to help make birthday pancakes.” He held up a little bottle. “I even brought the sprinkles!”

Steve snorted and jerked his head to the side, motioning Dustin close enough he could sling an arm over his shoulders and press his knuckles to the top of his head. “Thanks, bud. Lemme get a coffee- oh, Jesus, marry me,” he interrupted himself, reaching for the mug Eddie was handing to him.

Eddie froze for a second, then smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Soon as we’re able, babe, I’m getting on one knee.”

“Um.” Dustin blinked. “I feel like I wasn’t supposed to be here for that. Should I come back later? Like in a couple of hours?”

“I second that,” Wayne added, and Steve flushed red as he buried his face in Eddie’s shoulder.

“I need everyone to please forget I said that.”

“No can do,” Eddie laughed, taking the mug only to put it down and wrap both arms around Steve’s waist. He nudged at Steve’s temple with his nose. “Want them to come back later? I know you meant it, but I also know you wouldn’t’ve said it if you weren’t so tired.”

Steve sighed. “No, it’s fine. I’ll drink the coffee and be fine as long as we can sleep tonight.”

“We can.” He began to sway them gently. “You know I’d say yes?”

“Hm?”

“If you were asking. Or whenever you ask. If you ask. I’d say yes.” He pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheekbone. “And I meant what I said. The minute it’s legal, I’m down on one knee.”

Steve pulled back and framed Eddie’s face with his hands. “I know,” he murmured, leaning in for a short, sweet kiss.

They pulled apart after a minute, and Eddie handed Steve the coffee again. “Go sit down. I’ll help the kid.”

“Hey!”

“You’re still under eighteen, squirt, legally I can still call you that.”

They bickered all the way into the kitchen, and Steve smiled at them as he sipped his coffee.

“About that,” Wayne said, and Steve blanched.

“I swear when I ask for real I’ll get your blessing first.”

Wayne chuckled. “Consider it had. I knew you two were it when you barely left his bedside in the hospital.”

Steve blinked. “We weren’t even dating yet.”

Wayne raised a brow. “Was I wrong?”

He chuckled. “I guess not. Since then? Really?”

Wayne hummed. “You lit up. You both did, seein’ each other. ‘S like the rest of the world ceased to exist. I saw it again just now.”

Steve stood silent for a moment, thinking. “Thanks, Wayne.”

“You’ll always have a home here. That’s not dependent on you two bein’ together. You’re my kid as much as he is.”

“Oh,” Steve said quietly, and quickly took another sip, as if to stop the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Suddenly, he laughs. “Eddie and I are basically co-parenting the kids. How do you feel about being a grandfather to seven rugrats?”

Wayne laughed, his eyes glassy. “Pretty damn good, kid, pretty damn good.”

Permanent taglist:

@justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #dustin henderson #i don’t know what this is #I did not intend to do this #but also I kinda love it anyways?#Wayne is a grandpa now sorry not sorry #listen if someone made me a cup of coffee when I Desperately Need one i too would propose #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #eddie and wayne munson #Steve and wayne #wayne and dustin #why isn’t that a tag yet #happy birthday steve #starambles

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