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a-ramblinrose · 1 year

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JOMP Book Photo Challenge || April 29 || Freebie: The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water by Zen Cho

#The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water #Zen Cho #justonemorepage #jompbpc #book photo challenge #book photography #books #Not Out of Void But Out of Chaos

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thegirlwiththelantern · 5 months

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WWW Wednesday | 29 November

WWW Wednesday is hosted by Sam of Taking on a World of Words. To take part you answer three questions, which are: What are you currently reading?What did you recently finish reading?What do you think you’ll read next? 📖 What did you recently finish reading? School Rumble by Jin Kobayashi I’m really happy that this manga opened with a quick rundown of honorifics and a cultural note. They’re…

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#Books #Review #The Magic Fish #The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water #WWW Wednesday

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booksandwords · 1 year

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The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water by Zen Cho

Read time: 2 Days Rating: 5/5 Stars

The Quote: Like the first bandit, he had an outlaw's air and wore clothes that had seen a great deal of contact with the elements, but he was not at all beautiful. If the first bandit was a pocelin vase, this one was an everyday clay vessel, suitable for holding water or budu or rice wine, as the occasion demanded.

The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water is a stunning book, it's been a while since a book this short bowled me over to this extent (Sherrilyn McQueen does not count). It's easily readable in a day. There are some twists and turns and nothing is what it initially appears. But it is always written with full positivity and the conclusion or end-game in mind. I would consider it somewhat advantageous to have some understanding of wuxia but not requisite by any means. For those familiar with wuxia the honorifics and chapter titles will be familiar, simply numbers in Chinese.

This is a female-centric work with intensely queer themes. The women in this world are intelligent, strong and use their skills to protect what they value. For protagonist Guet Imm that means her faith and the deity. For Madam Ooi, her family. Potentially unusually for well any work, any author Zen Cho is frank and open about Guet Imm's menstruation, it is a breath of fresh air. Tet Sang is a charming character. The sort of character that makes you think and wonder what if. Read on at your own risk as a delve into queerness.

Have some quotes I quite liked.

Fung Cheung loved being gazed at adoringly—ideally by handsome young men, but a pretty woman would do in a pinch. — This made me smile, it just works for me. Especially when you realise that Guet Imm is using this to her advantage knowingly and that Fung Cheung is quite attractive in his own right. (Tet Sang, p.30)

"Everyone pretends Brother Lau is the boss, but you're the one he listens to." "You're seeing things that are not there, sister," said Tet Sang, amused. Guet Imm raised an eyebrow. "I'm a nun. Seeing that aren't there is my speciality." — It's that last line, the seeing things that aren't there. Guet Imm knows how Fung Chueng and his motley crew see her. Her personality means she can make light of her faith, she isn't a preacher even if she is a true believer. (Guet Imm & Tet Sang, p.87)

The scriptures say there are souls who lose their way after they die. They go into the wrong body by accident when they are reborn. There was a nun at my tokong like that. She was a son to her parents before she decided to follow the deity. — This is a discussion of trans existence in faith and religion. (Guet Imm, p.87)

Finally, I need to comment on the physical book itself. The cover is a wonderful representation of Guet Imm and Tet Sang. A snake, a moon, a river, florals and a pleasing mix of colours. I think for me the cover may have been more influential than I wanted to think. There is beauty in the hardback in the edition I read. At under 160 pages the hardback will protect the story. But it is more than that. There is a slight texture to the pages, they look like there is ink splashed on them. Just tiny droplets like those from calligraphy. Then there is the deckled (uneven) edging. It all combines to become a bit of an experience. Something you definitely would not get from an e- or audiobook. TBH I think it almost gets an added star for the edition alone.

#the order of the pure moon reflected in water #zen cho #lgbtq #book review #sapphic #spoilers on goodreads #ktreviews #read 2022 #novellas #booklr

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msevildoom · 1 year

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I just finished The Order Of The Pure Moon Reflected In Water by Zen Cho. I liked it a lot! I loved the dynamic between the two leads, I think it gave the right amount of information so I understood the setting without feeling like it was being explained to/pandering to me, and 160 pages is a very nice length.

#the order of the pure moon reflected in water #zen cho #books #reviews

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rocaillefox · 11 months

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just finished reading the order of the pure moon reflected in water by zen cho, and it was def an enjoyable read! a good balance of funny and sad. a bit short, but still well-structured.

#mar does reading #ramblings #the order of the pure moon reflected in water #nonbinary icon tbh. very fun to read in pride month

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lilareviewsbooks · 1 year

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April Reading Wrap-Up

I've been in a bit of a reading slump – I took a look at my GoodReads, and it turns out I didn't completely read anything in March. That's pretty crazy for me, since I've been getting through one book a month since I can remember. But April was a better month for my reading. It was the calm before the storm – read, the no assignments before finals week.

Royal Assassin, by Robin Hobb

3/5 stars

675 pages

Contains: following the story of someone's life through the years, a wolf (but like, a cute one) and betrayals!

This is the second installment in Ms. Hobb's The Farseer Trilogy, a fantasy classic. As I mentioned before, it was a reading resolution this year for me to read as many of those as I could, and continuing on with this series demonstrates my commitment to that promise.

It's not that The Farseer Trilogy is bad – it's very good! It just so happens to be boring, as well. And, don't get me wrong: there's absolutely nothing wrong with being boring. It's very much the contrary: I think Ms. Robb's intention, here, is to lead us through the upbringing, and eventual adult life, of FitzChivalry Farseer. That includes painstakingly going through his every move, decision, thought… And I think Ms. Robb knows how boring that might be, and she simply doesn't care.

And good for her! People love this trilogy – and rightfully so, it's a feat of character and world-building – and so it's clear that it's working for her. However, I did find it hard to stick with this one.

The book just spends so long with things that end up being meaningless, except for the character development they produce, which leads me to wonder if there weren't more efficient ways of achieving that same result. So many pages are spent on Molly and Fitz's relationship, for instance, and it's hard not to feel tired after a while. The main conflict, and its subsequent aftermath, is squished at the end of the book, the result of an endless build-up that, although well-executed, is just so very long… This is a problem I had with the first book, as well, and I wonder now if I'll finish this series, or if it will be best not to.

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi, by S.A. Chakraborty

3/5 stars

483 pages

Contains: pirates!! Let's go pirates!!; queer people; religion seamlessly integrated into the plot and world-building

I originally began The Daevabad Trilogy a couple of years back, and DNFed at the 50 page mark – the characters just weren't compelling to me. When I heard the synopsis of this one, though, – which features a middle-aged, Muslim pirate on her final quest – I couldn't resist. And thankfully, the Library came through, and I got to read this quite soon after its release, in February 2023.

I honestly had a very good time! I had low expectations considering how I'd felt about Ms. Chakraborty's previous writing, but Amina Al-Sirafi managed to hook me and get me addicted!

I will say, though, there's something off about the pacing. Things move at a weird pace. But it's hard to put my finger on it.

My favorite part, though, was the care that went into building the historical background for the story. I knew Ms. Chakraborty was an Islamic historian before picking this up, but if I didn't I definitely would have learned that once finishing Amina Al-Sirafi. The research is palpable and the result is stunning and believable. The attention to detail, here, is insane! And so, if you're a history nerd, I'd definitely say to give this one a read.

(Also, did anyone know this was queer? Because I swear it was not advertised as such, and it was such a welcome surprise for me!)

She Who Became the Sun, by Shelley Parker-Chan

5/5 stars

416 pages

Contains: murderous queers; a fisting scene??? And it makes sense???; oh the gender

This one was amazing! She Who Became The Sun is a multi-POV story spanning two different nuclei. One follows Monk Zhu, who assumes her brother's identity, sure that she is destined for greatness, and the people she meets in her quest to achieve this. Another focuses on Ouyang, an eunuch general who serves – and is lowkey in love with – Esen, the son of a province's Prince, and the war they're involved in.

She Who Became The Sun makes you feel so many feelings. This is in part due to the gorgeous writing, and in part due to the constructions of beautifully complex characters that evolve with the story. Ouyang and Zhu, in specific, shine as protagonists. And, oh my God, are they insane. They're my favorite types of characters – the ones that are problematic as fuck and would blow up the entire world just to achieve their goals (I'm looking at you, Rin from The Poppy War). Their struggles with their own gender identity – Ouyang being an eunuch, and Zhu being born a girl, but living her life as a man – are skillfully woven into the plot, making this a killer queer fantasy that, I think, is a must-read.

The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water, by Zen Cho

2.5/5 stars

176 pages

Contains: a group of bandits; a funny nun (personally I love funny nuns); a war wagging in the background

I listened to this one while I packed for summer, making it the first audiobook I listened to all the way through! Yay! Thank you, Libby!

I don't know if that hindered my enjoyment – it was hard to keep track of the names, as I wasn't seeing them written down, but I think this was the only way listening affected me. Maybe, then, the fact that this wasn't my favorite is just due to the nature of The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water, itself.

The novella brings powerful and interesting characters, but fails to put them in any situation that brings out the fun in them. The plot is weird and wobbly, wading in multiple directions while the characters move along with it, changing in order to fit into whatever is happening in the story. The ending makes sense with what has been set-up, but is still off, as what motivates the characters' final choices seems to come out of nowhere.

But most of all, and unfortunately, I think this one just isn't quite as memorable as it should be, and falls a little flat. I was disappointed, as I was expecting a bit more from The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water.

#farseer trilogy #royal assassin #the adventures of amina al sirafi #amina al-sirafi #she who became the sun #zhu chongba #the order of the pure moon reflected on water #sff #sff books #read in 2023 #booklr #books #fantasy books #science fiction books #queer books #queer reads #reading wrap up

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dracereads · 2 years

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The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in the Water by Zen Cho ⭐⭐⭐⭐

This is a short little Novella by Zen Cho. The description and the artwork on the cover really attracted me to this little book. At the time of reading it, I had a long wait at the Rheumatologist's office (yay auto-immune diseases) So I powered through this one in a long ass wait because the hospital uses all paper like we're back in the 1980s. It's a hoot. Anyway, this book is short and was surprisingly QUEER! I was not expecting queer but I appreciate it. The only drawback to this book is the occasional horrible line editing (and there's a bit of it) and the fact it's feels short and incomplete. I am going to look into Cho's other works because despite the errors, this was actually a really jaunty and fun read. I loved the world-building and the characters. I'm hoping to see more of this universe and maybe more or less of these characters in her other short stories. Anyway, I would probably skip the physical edition of this book (the binding leaves... a lot to be desired, If I'm honest) and get a digital edition of this if I had to purchase it again. Overall, I would give it a solid 4/5 stars.

#The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in the Water #Zen Cho #transprotag #the gays #nonromantic #asian authors club #drace tag this later please #taglinemode

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mxqdii · 8 months

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hiiii i saw ur chris fic with 'I can see you' and was wondering if u could write one for matt with the song 'you are in love'

I love ur writing so much hope u have a good dayyyy 💗

you are in love - m.s

pairings: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: after dating for awhile, the little moments make reader realize, she's in love.

warning(s): kissing, fluff.

a/n: absolutely sobbing i love this song and thinking of MATT WITH IT??? thank you for requesting this love<3

not proofread

i groan, sitting up seeing the time 11:47PM

there's no use, i just can't sleep. i look over to my boyfriend matt, sleeping peacefully, making me smile.

i get up to put my shoes on but feel someone grab my wrist, looking back seeing matt, sitting up and looking at me.

one look in that dark room is all it took, matt grabbing his keys as i grab my coat.

the car ride filled with his lighthearted jokes and small talk as he pulls up to our usual coffee spot, the time now being midnight.

we order and sit down outside, admiring eachother.

i look down at his chain seeing how bright the light is reflecting off of it, confusion filling my eyes.

"look up" he says, snapping me out of my trance seeing the bright sky filled with stars and a full moon.

the drive home was filled with a silence i could feel, something felt different.

we get home to the completely dark house, giggling our way upstairs, trying to keep quiet.

we make it to matt's bedroom finally, that silence, his arms, everything overtaking me

one of those feelings being realization, i would never tell him this but i knew what it was.

i'm in true love.

the next morning comes sooner then expected, except i wake up alone, and not in matt's arms.

i smell breakfast cooking downstairs and i check my phone seeing the day sunday.

i put matts shirt on heading downstairs.

"goodmorning, you sleep well?" he says with a smile and i laugh at the catastrophe he's made in the kitchen

"is that my shirt?" he says and i ignore his question by asking him one.

"so you kept your word huh? you making breakfast every sunday?" i ask with a smile and he nods, handing me a plate

i smile at the burnt toast he hands me.

finishing breakfast, we take a walk on the sidewalk of the beach, bickering and talking, our hands interlocked the whole time.

we walk for what feels like hours, not even noticing that the sun has started to go down.

spending the day with matt being all i've ever wanted.

we continue our walk, heading to the beach instead of walking on the sidewalks.

we sit on the sand, overlooking the water together and i start to think about us, me and matt.

i think- i think i love him, but does he? is it too soon to say it?

i get snapped out of my trance by matt tackling me, us rolling on the sand together in a fit of laughter.

"matt! stop!" i say in between laughs as he hovers over me with a strange look on his face as our laughter dies down.

"what?" i ask, quietly.

"you're my best friend" he says, looking me in the eyes with pure passion.

and even though i didn't wanna get my hopes up, i knew what it was.

he is in love.

that was yesterday.

my feelings scare me, i can't put them into words, so i've been at my house avoiding it all.

checking the time, it's now midnight. i can't do this anymore, i need to tell him.

driving to matts house, the only sound being the pouring rain, the roads being completely dark, the adrenaline and need to see him and tell him

i pull into the driveway, getting out of my car and making view with matts window

i know its cheesy, but the only thing i could think of doing was throwing rocks at his window.

i grab ones small enough to make a noise, but not enough to break the window.

after a few rocks hit the window, i see him open his window looking down at me with sleepy eyes and a smile

"matt i- come down i feel like an idiot." i yell and he closes his window.

the front door opens after a minute and i run up to him hugging him.

a hug that didn't make me realize anything, a hug that confirmed everything.

the picture of me in his phone case, the midnight coffee runs, it was all so simple i've just never seen it.

i can hear it in the silence, i can feel it when he drives me home, i can see it with the lights out, i'm in love, true love.

the rain falling down my face mixed with the tears aren't much, but it said enough.

"matt i love you, and i didn't know how to put it into words but now i see how clear it is, it's you matt, it always has been, i love you, i'm in love with you." i confess.

" i know baby, i love you too, more then you'll ever know." he says, cupping my cheek and kissing me.

the kiss feeling like the first one i've ever had, a kiss i'll never forget.

i pull away, him putting our foreheads against each other.

i laugh, my tears having a different meaning then they did before, walking up to my car playing the first song i can think of

you are in love by taylor swift

i look over to him and he rolls his eyes

"really?" he says in a sarcastic tone

"cmonnn you know you want to" i tease and he laughs

we interlock hands, dancing, completely drenched at midnight, having the time of our lives.

kicking water at eachother, laughing, dancing, yelling.

this is all i'll ever needed.

we're in love.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcannons #matthew sturniolo #matthew x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #taylor swift #you are in love #madispeaks!

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plutoswrath · 2 years

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ａｓｔｒｏｎｏｔｅｓａｎｄｏｂｓｅｒｖａｔｉｏｎｓｐｔ. ６

╭──────────.★..─╮ -> my other astro notes ╰─..★.──────────╯

🐇 Pluto in the first house individuals might learn that they need to redefine a role people have put on them; a role they were made to believe they are or were forced to put on through lies and manipulation -> redefining the self can play a big role or actively shedding a negative self image or a self image that was build on negative coping mechanisms.

🐇 People who have control over your life or just generally influence your behavior a lot, even if they don’t verbally direct you or comment on your choices can have prominent MC, Mercury, Saturn, Pluto and Moon to MC Synastry with you.

🐇 Another indicator for this influence can be prominent 8th, 10th, 7th, 2nd and 12th house overlays. Here, it can be a lot about expectations, working together, shared and projected feelings, as well as vulnerability of feelings and ego that come forward.

🐇 Jupiter can be the planet of cults and sects, prominent Jupiter influence is very strong in most cult leaders birth charts. Obviously there is a lot more that can influence the strategies and approaches of cult leaders, but it does take a very convincing ‘philosophy’ or ‘spiritual approach’ to sell others in order to make them part of your following

🐇 Furthermore: lots of cult leaders happen to have the generational planets in close aspects (often conjunctions) with personal planets or Saturn/Jupiter. There is definitely a pattern of being able to move masses/groups by being in contact with collective energies even if it’s out of malice and pure evil.

🐇 Last note on cult leaders: there’s also a pattern with having strong air influence (sign or degree) or having planets in the 3rd, 7th, 11th or 1st house! Even if there’s an abundance of earth and water signs, they are connected by having them sitting in houses of social interaction/connection or in degrees of air signs/sagittarius. Also, stellium, especially Leo, but in general leo influence or 12th house/Pisces influence are another pattern amongst (very known) cult leaders. I feel like the aspects of selling a group a collective dream comes with having to perform creatively and be very overt in one’s self expression as well.

🐇 Long time ago, I’ve read on astro Twitter (I don’t know who tweeted it but if anyone has read something similar lmk to give credit!) that the 12th house is showing us how we get in trouble. As the 12th house is our subconscious it makes sense, by acting out on our subconscious and others calling us out we actually gain self awareness.

For example: Virgo 1st house, Leo in the 12th: getting in trouble for hidden selfish motives, wanting more creative freedom, wanting self expression, wanting attention/an audience - Scorpio in the 1st, Libra in the 12th, wanting to be included, wanting to be treated gently and kind, wanted to be treated with extreme sensitivity, putting all their baskets into interpersonal close connections

🐇 With planets in the 1st house, you should look at the degree for a better understanding of why and how you embody the 1st house planet, same goes for the Ascendant too

🐇 Actually, the degree of a placement can show you how you how to approach it, it can help you adding an even more nuanced layer to the way you can best/most healthiest embody said placement, likewise it can help you in reflect the way why you live out your placement in a certain way.

For example: Aries degrees (1, 13, 25) can be the ones to either have troubles holding immediate reactions in OR have a tendency to seemingly explode in self expression when they decide to open up, can also make you very loud/your presence is strong, you radiate a lot of vitality and energy. Aquarius degrees (11, 23) can have a very in and out approach to themselves, people and situations, they strike with the ideas, words and performances they choose to present to the public and the morals they integrate into their life approach; they can actually be very conscious with their self expression because they observe and analyze a lot and are extremely group conscious, even if they can have random impulses they (want to) act out on. Come across as in their own world and/or extremely socially aware. Virgo Degrees (6, 18) can have the feeling that there are constantly in preparation mode, even if they don’t physically act out on it, in their mind they already started thinking and planing, they can feel like they have to immediately be able to adjust and be flexible to changes and crisis in their life

🐇 intercepted 1st/12th house intercepted can point to bad body awareness

🐇 12th house ruler in the 10th: your unseen flaws can be on obvious display for others or even show when you try to put yourself out there

🐇 Virgo moon and pickiness, an unbeatable duo, especially if taurus is in the mix too 💗

🐇 The fixed signs in the birth chart show where it’s hard to move on and where you stand your ground no matter what

🐇 Saturn in earth signs and not allowing other to help you <‘3 They really want to do it on their own, same can be said for Saturn in Aries, they really want to prove it to others because self worth and autonomy was often time taken from them .

🐇 Moon square Ascendant natally could've manifested as a mother that was often criticzing and moderating your behavior, possibly even appereance, it could've make the individual hyper conscious of their immediate reactions and natural self, which can in itself lead to hyper analyzing and self-moderating yourself

🐇 Libra Mars have the unique ability to create a Venusian atmosphere in the way they initiate and handle conflict

🐇 Both Taurus and Libra Mars can be very fixed on the atmosphere/'vibe', doesn't matter if they are alone or with others. They can feel quickly (physically) irritated if there is a lack of venusian qualities in their surroundings and become kinda jittery then

🐇 Virgo’s unhealthy relationship with self improvement can be caused by the desire for things to just flow better by becoming more efficient, which is granted to Mercury energy, since Mercury is the messenger of information

🐇 an intercepted Sun can potentially decrease the vitality and energy of a person, they can feel exhausted pretty quickly compared to other

🐇 Intercepted Sun could've also experienced that their father wanted to sell them their lost dreams as Sun natives ego and sefl they have to establish. Similar things can play out when Sun is aspected by Neptune.

🐇 Moon in 2nd, Taurus Moon 🤝. Scorpio moon = being fuckin greedy (Scorpio moon can be that way because there was a big lack of when growing up and now they want to make up for it, taurus moon can be that because of sheer overindulgence, they often want to accumulate more and more due to the emotional satisfaction and feeling of safety it can give them. Material goods = emotional safety)

🐇 Pisces/Neptune in the 6th house can use daydreaming or dreaming in general as their own personal mental hygiene. It’s the way they relax their mind and body, and clean any inner stress.

🐇 5th house overlays in synastry can point to either copying the other’s style or at least getting inspiration from it

🐇 Virgo Risings have control issues because of their Scorpio 3rd house: they want to read and understand their surroundings profoundly, but one thing they have to realize is that the unknown is there for a reason. It's actually pretty healthy to not be able to tap into every form of darkness, the unknown shouldn't scare but excite them (looking at neighboring sign Sagittarius)

🐇 but also Scorpio in the 3rd is why Virgo Risings often are the 'I told you so' friends lmao

🐇 Phantom pain can be caused by Pisces/Neptune in the 6th, South Node in the 6th/1st or if Mars comes in contact with these placements. Having Mars in one of the rulers of these houses while contacting Neptune/South Node can create phantom pain as well

🐇 The 12th house in composite can show how you like to spend your private time and how to make your 1 on 1 time sacred. Strong 12th house influence in composite can pint to the couple valuing privacy and their shared time alone a lot!

credit: plutowrath, 2022.

・・・・☆・・・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・・☆・・・・・☆・

#if this looks strange on computer it’s because I formatted it for the mobile version upsi #astrology #zodiac #astro notes #astrology notes #astrology observations #astro observations #astro community #astrology community #spirituality #Ascendant #Virgo rising #libra mars #composite chart #synastry #12th house #12th house in composite #12th house synastry #neptune in the 6th

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a-ramblinrose · 1 year

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7 books 7 days day 5

Rules: every day, I will post the cover of a book that I love and nominate someone new to start the challenge

Tagged by @booksandrandomfandoms

Tagging @therefugeofbooks

#The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected In Water #Zen Cho #7 book covers in 7 days #asked and answered #rose answers things #books #book photography #not out of void but out of chaos

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heavenlyyshecomes · 1 year

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can you recommend me some books? i'm looking for something gentle and hopeful without being saccharine? i just can't bear to read anything dark right now

sure !!

ms ice sandwich, mieko kawakami tr. louise heal kawai

the summer book, tove jansson tr. thomas teal

the order of the pure moon reflected in water, zen cho

concerning the book that is the body of the beloved, gregory orr

tweet cute, emma lord (this is like the one romance novel I've read so adding it)

a month in siena, hisham matar

still life with oysters and lemon, mark doty

goodbye tsugumi, banana yoshimoto tr. michael emmerich

schoolgirl, osamu dazai tr. allison markin powell

the rest are from my tbr:

summer of salt, katrina leno

meet me at the museum, anne youngson

the liar's dictionary, eley williams

also check out my book recs + ref tags for better recs!!

#i don't read a lot of this genre sorry #highly recommend storygraph bc it gives u mood based recs it's nice #book recs #ref #asks

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nightmare-grass · 2 months

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Odd Moon-related Connections in Genshin Lore

- Glaze Lillies and Nilotpala Lotuses only bloom at night

- Glaze Lillies may have been the favorite flower of Guizhong, who’s hair was grey/white and who’s outfit had stardust on it (she was the god of dust, so unless she was a god of stardust specifically that’s some odd things about her)

- Nilotpala Lotuses bloomed at the bleeding feet of the Goddess of Flowers after being cast out of Heaven in the wake of the Seelie disaster

- There is at least one account in Sumeru that claims Liloupar came to the people in a moonbeam. Quote: “Our prayers to the Goddess of Flowers have borne fruit. Her envoy came to us in a moonbeam, granting us life-saving medicine and clean water … …She called herself Liloupar, born of the lilies” and later in that same passage, Quote: “At moonrise, she warned us that the water from the canal may carry disease.” So many mentions of the moon in one text about Liloupar and her relation to the Goddess of Flowers.

- Seelies seem to have a moonlit sky with sparse clouds reflected in their bodies, the bright orb in their heads looks like a moon.

- Guizhong’s death produced a cloud of dust that blocks out the sky and creates a darkened area in Liyue.

- Istaroth was said to be responsible for the Sin Shades, who only show up in Evernight in the dark.

- Nahida has some moon connections in her titles, and she has white hair and pale skin, like Paimon, who has a starry pattern on her scarf like Guizhong had on her robes.

- The Goddess of Flowers built a city for her offspring, the Jinn, and she called it Ay-Khanoum, translated to English that’s the City of the Moon Maiden.

- You can link the mythologies of the Goddess of Flowers and King Deshret to King Solomon and Astarte, who was a version of Ishtar, who is the root for the name Istaroth

- The power of the Aranara is the power of dreams, they exist in the dreamscape. And with how much we use a harp to connect with Aranara, it’s just as likely that music is linked to dreams. And Venti, one of Istaroth’s thousand winds, is a bard who knows all songs past and future, and plays a harp.

- The moon sisters were named Aria, Sonnet, and Canon, literally musical terminology.

- There’s probably a connection between the three moon sisters and Teyvat’s concepts of Time, Memory, and Dreams

- One of Venti’s powers is that he can pull up memories from the far flung past

- The quest for Time and Wind has these sun dial looking things that are actually moon dials since the puzzle only activates at night

- Seelies make a jingling tune, Nahida makes a jingling tune, the Goddess of Flowers taught Rukkhadevata the “source song” which birthed the race of Aranara, and the Pari fought the abyss using the Great Songs of the Khavarena, which seem to summon pure elemental energy aligned with Dendro.

- One of the fairytales that was weirdly important to the Abyss Order before we learned that fairy tales could hold the truth about the past if it’s been rewritten/deleted in Irminsul was the Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies. I’ve already noted a few pale characters with crowns or royal status but there was also a character called the Night Mother, who seemed to be the villain of the story. Another odd Night connection.

- Andersdotter wrote The Boar Princess, her signature rose design is on the cover. A rose is also on the cover of The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies, so could she have written that too? As a member of the Hexenzirkel, it’s pretty likely.

- The Seelies were said to be beautiful pale people, and Rukkhadevata is pale with white hair, as is Nahida. Another trait they share are elf ears. Klee is pale with fair hair, and she’s an elf; from what we know of Alice, her mom, she could look much the same. Although he’s old, Pulcinella of the Fatui Harbingers is also an elf with white hair and pale skin, fitting the description. Seelies are fairies, and elves in real world folklore are considered fae, so could the Seelies have given us the elf race in Genshin? Or the Moon Sisters, who presided over the Seelies? Elves seem to be as long lived as gods, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

- I think Aria, Sonnet, and Canon represented Memories, Time, and Dreams, symbolizing the past, present, and future respectively. I don’t know the order of the goddesses in their roles, but I do know they had a fight and two died, leaving only one, and wouldn’t it be something if that surviving moon goddess became Istaroth, the god of Time? Maybe even Irminsul came from the death of the moon goddess of Memory? I don’t know what could’ve happened to the goddess of Dreams, but maybe her death caused the constellations that are canonically made up of the crystalline fruits of Irminsul in the sky box of the Firmament.

(If I could post more than 10 pictures I would but you have the internet, you can look up photos of the stuff I’m talking about.)

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

We Tried The World CH3.

THE MASTERLIST WICHITA, KANSAS, 789 MILES FROM HOME.

Kansas greeted you with a sign that told you that you and Steve were now entering the sunflower state. But the fields on either side of you were flat and green, patches of brown mud and a forgotten barn or two.

You’d left The Ozarks early, both of you sitting in the front of the car, gazing at the lake with the engine idling like you were silently saying goodbye.

It had taken a little over two hours to leave Missouri, to pass over that invisible state line that separated you from Kansas. It was nine in the morning, the skies blue, summer still blazing and the car smelled like coffee and the iced tea you’d both ordered to go from a diner on the side of the road, lemon and honey and espresso in the air.

You drove for another forty minutes before you saw them.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to you when you eventually did spot them, the sign really did give you fair warning. But they seemed to come out of nowhere, the pastures and paddocks filled with dried out grass and sleepy animals turned into rows and rows and rows of towering flowers, golden yellow, all taller than you.

Sunflowers for miles. The sight made you gasp, made you jump in your seat and throw yourself on the edge, seatbelt strained and your hands curled around the side of the open window. Your smile was contagious, pure elation that Steve laughed at and he was grinning just like you.

You didn’t ask him to stop, you didn’t have to. Steve took one look at your face and then he was pulling off into the dirt at the side of the road, dust kicking up behind you. You were both clambering out of the car and into the sun, the heat, the smell of pollen and fields and farmland assaulting your senses but god, you really didn’t care.

You didn’t think about it when you grabbed Steve’s hand, and he didn’t pull away at your touch either. He let you drag him into the flowers, morning dew soaking your bare legs and arms, painting your sundress in splotches of water. Steve trailed behind you, still grinning, hands still joined, bright yellow petals brushing against his hair, his cheeks.

You walked until you couldn’t see the road, until you could only see the sky, the flowers and Steve.

You only let go of the boy’s hand to brush your fingers over the petals instead, big, green leaves and fallen seeds that crunched underfoot. It became a game, a bag rendition of hide and seek, a catch me if you can, because the flowers didn’t offer that much cover and you decided really quickly that you wanted Steve to catch you.

So you tripped a little clumsily through the fields, Steve only ever a few feet behind, laughing, face bathed in sunlight and yellow toned shadows, sunflower petals in his hair.

He grabbed at your wrists when you let him get close enough, listened to the way you laughed at his touch until he got brave enough to put his hands on your waist, pulling you back towards him, his palms big and warm through the cotton material of your dress.

It felt like another world, another time, it felt like this was a boy you could fall in love with. But then you remembered what this was, this escape, this adventure without a plan and you tried not to think about how nice Steve’s chest felt against your back when he tugged you into him.

It had been a week since you’d left Hawkins and you were already spending too much time looking at the boy with the messy hair. He had more freckles now, his skin more tanned, his clothes a little comfier, less fitted than when you’d left.

It felt like you were watching him fall into himself.

It had been hard not to think about the things you did when you’d spent the last few nights pressed against him in the back of the car. The moon shifting across the surface of the lake, the reflections dancing across the two of you in the dark.

Everything had been good, everything had been sweet, nice, easy. And then two hundred and twenty something miles from Wichita, Steve’s car got a flat tire and everything fell apart for a few hours.

It felt like reality then, less like a dream, like an adventure that couldn’t disappoint and you started to wonder then if this was the right choice. Because it was a Friday evening and if you’d been home, you would’ve been working until eight at the bookstore, walking home to your aunt to have meatloaf and then some ice cream on the sofa in front of the tv.

That was your reality, it wasn't exciting but it never changed. You were both tired, hungry, too hot, the Kansas air sticky and heavy - and Steve was looking at you like this might have all been one big mistake

Or maybe your mind was just playing tricks on you. Either way, your stomach churned.

Steve was already grumbling when the car rolled to a stop on the hard shoulder, kicking up dust as he went, curses filling the car and you groaned. The morning had shifted to late afternoon, lunch missed in favour of hitting the next stop earlier than nightfall. Your stomach growled, your head was aching and your legs felt dead from sitting for so long.

You winced when Steve’s door slammed, the boy pacing the length of the car as he stared at the punctured wheel in defeat. You leaned over the console, squinted out into the open window and the setting sun, the whole world golden.

“D’you have a spare?”

Steve shook his head and swiped a hand over his face. He looked tired, a little bedraggled, just like you felt. The stretch of road had nothing on it, fields and fields on either side, a lone horse on a small slope, a sign that was sunbleached and cracked, one that told you that you were pretty far away from the next town.

You pulled out the map, pushed yourself out of the car into the heat that the sun was leaving behind and Steve wasn’t even paying attention as you spread the folded paper across the hood. You traced the lines of the road, hoped and prayed there would be a pay phone somewhere nearby. There had to be, right?

You threw the map back onto your seat, walked around the car and pulled yourself onto the trunk, the heat from the sun making it warm under your bare legs. You tucked your dress between your knees, frowned when you looked at Steve and saw the pucker between his brows, the way he was chewing at his lip.

“So, what now?” You asked, “do we just start walking?”

Steve huffed, at you or the situation, you weren’t overly sure but the sound was impatient and it irked you more than it should’ve.

“Walk where?” Steve held his arms out, gesturing to the wide, flat land around you both. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

You rolled your eyes at the obvious, pushing off of the car to stand by the boy, head tilted as you inspected the wheel. There was a nail embedded in the rubber, the silver head of it glinting mockingly in the sunlight.

“Well, d’you have a better idea?”

Steve kicked at the loose gravel on the road, scuffed up the front of his sneaker and shrugged again. His hair was a riot from the way he’d been tugging at it and you moved out of his way as he went back to pacing. The sun was getting lower, hazy on the horizon, a deep orange and it was setting the world on fire. It’d be dark soon.

“I’m not leaving my car,” Steve grunted. “One of us will have to stay.”

You startled at his words, turning back to face him as you shook your head furiously. “What?” you barked out, too sharp. “I’m not staying here on my own!”

Steve sighed again and it set your teeth on edge. He rubbed at his eyes, tired, sore, hungry. He mumbled your name and it sounded like he was fed up with you already.

“And if you think I’m walking off into the backass of nowhere by myself, you’ve got another thing coming, Harrington.”

“I didn’t- Jesus Christ - I didn’t ask you to!” Steve exclaimed, hands slamming onto the roof of the car. “And stop yelling, my head is fucking killing me.”

Maybe it was ‘cause you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, way before the sunflower fields. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had a good night sleep since the motel in Illinois, maybe it was the way Steve still hadn’t mentioned how he kissed you on the Fourth of July.

It could’ve been the heat, the ache in your back, the throbbing in your forehead.

Regardless of the reason, you snapped, your own hands coming to land on the roof of the BMW across from the boy. You stared at each other over the car, lips set in frowns, brows drawn tight.

“I’m not fucking yelling!” you yelled. “I’m not feeling all that hot either, Steve, so don’t get on at me like this is my fault.”

The boy scoffed, eyes narrowed, elbows pressed to the roof. “And what? It’s mine? Like I meant to drive over a fuckin’ nail?”

You rolled your own eyes, the heat of the sun, the warmth in the air and Steve’s annoyance making you feel too hot. Your dress stuck to your thighs, to the lines of your collarbones and you suddenly felt trapped.

You were in the middle of fucking nowhere, Kansas, with a boy you kissed once at a party. What the fuck where you doing? The sunflower field felt like days ago, weeks even.

“Sure Steve, that’s exactly what I said.” The tension in your voice was palpable and you hated that the feeling of annoyance was joined by the hot prick of tears at the corners of your eyes.

Maybe Steve caught the way you looked, maybe he saw the wetness at your lash line or maybe he just felt bad, but he softened almost instantly, a drop of his shoulders, a hand scrubbed over his face.

It was getting darker and neither of you said anything. The silence was as loud as the night itself and both of you sighed and leaned on different parts of the car. The boy didn’t ask you to go, to walk until you found a pay phone or a gas station and he didn't leave you either.

It wasn’t an apology on either of your parts but it felt like enough. The tension eased when the sun went down and Steve pulled himself onto the hood beside you, close enough to where you sat with crossed legs that you could feel the warmth coming off of him.

The moon was out, the sky was black but the night was still so warm. It smelled sweet, like flowers and sunscreen and Steve, and god, you were tired. Maybe Steve was too, because he was suddenly leaning closer and his shoulder bumped yours and didn’t move away. You didn’t chance a look at him but you lay your head on his shoulder all the same, holding in a sigh of relief when he didn’t pull away.

“What’s your favourite animal?” Steve asked you and it made your heart skip a beat, because it sounded like ‘I’m sorry.’

“Sharks,” you told him, eyes closing at the feel of him solid underneath you. You pressed your cheek to his shoulder, the tip of your nose close to brushing his neck. “What’s yours?” ‘I’m sorry too.’

But Steve snorted before he answered, shoulders jerking in amusement and you felt rather than saw the way he was peering down at you. You were smiling and you were so sure that he was too, even behind closed eyes, you could feel it, sense it. It changed the air, the mood, the way you felt and you wondered if you’d be okay as long as Steve Harrington kept looking at you like that.

“Sharks?” he asked, quiet laughter colouring his words. He sounded so much prettier than when he was yelling. “Why?”

You shrugged, still sleepy, still with closed eyes and you rubbed your cheek against the soft of his shirt on instinct. You felt him tense for just a second when your face pushed itself into his neck, a soft huff of breath kissing the skin there. But then he was pushing against you more, letting you curl in as much as you wanted, seeking out your touch as much as you were his.

“I d’know,” you mumbled, “I like Jaws.”

He snorted again, thoroughly amused and he seemed your explaination good enough.

“I think I gotta say dogs,” Steve told you. “Which is pretty boring.”

You smiled, “s’not boring. What kind of dog?”

The boy lay his head on yours, his cheek pressed to your hair and suddenly the world seemed so still. Had you been arguing? Did you almost have a fight? Did you yell? You couldn’t remember.

“Golden retriever,” he said and you hummed in agreement. “My parents never let me have a pet, not even a damn fish. I always wanted a dog.”

The silence ticked over, comfortable if not a little sad because Steve’s brow was furrowed at the thought of his parents and the people he’d left behind. But something was itching at your throat, a question desperate to be asked and when you felt it coming over your tongue, weighted with emotion, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Hey Steve?” You didn’t pause long enough for him to answer, but he moved from where he leaned against you, turned to gaze down at you, brows raised. “Why’d you kiss me that night?”

That night. A week ago, an age ago. A whole different state, a whole different time. You didn’t feel like the same person anymore but you still remembered the way Steve kissed you, like you were the answer to something he was too scared to ask.

The silence stretched until an owl called out from somewhere above, a haunting noise that made your chest crack. But maybe that was just the way Steve was looking at you, wide eyed and panicked, like maybe he’d hoped you’d forgotten, like maybe he’d hoped he’d never have to talk about it.

He murmured your name, swiped at his face and sighed.

God, it hurt more than it should’ve. The rejection from this boy you were only starting to know, it stung like sunburn, a harsh nip that travelled over your bones and Jesus, you felt stupid.

You scoffed, laughing at yourself rather than Steve and you slid off the front of the car, away from the boy’s warmth and if he reached out to try and catch at your wrist, you barely felt it.

“Forget it,” you told him, the earlier feelings of exhaustion and ache creeping back over your body. Your headache had dulled but your temples were buzzing again - but that could’ve just been the embarrassment heating at your face.

Steve said your name again, a little more insistent this time but he sounded as tired as you felt. “Hey, no, wait…”

He was moving too, pushing off of the car and walking after you. You hadn’t gone far, just a couple of feet away from him and the BMW with some shitty hope that the air over there would be less stifling.

It wasn’t.

“Are we just supposed to pretend it didn’t happen?” you asked him, arms crossed over your front like they could protect you from his answer. ‘Cause you had a feeling you knew what it was by the way he was looking at you, eyes sad, lips parted, brow furrowed. “Which is, you know, fine,” you lied. “I just thought I’d ask.”

And then headlights were blinding you both and Steve never gave you your answer.

A family had pulled up in a Winnebago, four friendly faces that were eager to help, assisting with a puncture kit and some bottles of water. They didn’t notice the tension between you and Steve whilst the older man worked on the wheel, his wife talking about Wichita and sunflowers and the bobcat they’d seen running across the road from forest to forest.

You felt Steve’s eyes on you as you chatted quietly to the two little girls, their hair in pigtails, blonde and curling at the end. You let them fiddle with the gold rings on your fingers, admiring each design with sweet, quiet voices.

And when the wheel was fixed and you’d said your thanks, Steve opened the passenger door for you and looked at you a little sadly. Neither of you spoke as he drove you both to Wichita, the town sleepy and quiet as you rolled in during the early morning hours.

It was still louder than the Ozarks, an electrical buzz coming from the streetlights, the stars lost in their glow. It was louder than the silence from inside of the car, muted music coming from the bars you passed every now and then, a bus that rumbled past you both at sets of traffic lights.

Steve found a motel with little issue, a tall building off of Central Avenue that had a red neon sign that coloured you both crimson in the parking lot. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, turning the engine off with his gaze on you and you hatred the way the embarrassment you felt still lingered on your skin. His stare felt hot.

“This okay?” he asked, quiet, as if not to startle you.

You only nodded, already halfway out of the car before he could follow and when you got to the reception desk and the woman asked you how many rooms, you were the first to speak.

“Two, please,” you told her, already pulling cash out of your bag to pay for your half.

You felt the boy at your back, chest brushing against you as he leaned in, a hand on the desk, caging you between it and his body. He was staring at the two sets of keys the receptionist placed in front of you, his voice low and at your ear.

His lips brushed the shell of it when he spoke.

“I thought you didn’t like sleeping alone,” the statement seemed so much more salacious than it should’ve been. But you both seemed to remember the nights by the lake, tangled together. “I mean, in a room. On your own,” Steve clarified, cheeks warm.

You shrugged, paying the lady and grabbing your keys, leaving Steve fumbling with his bag before he snagged his own set and followed. It didn't matter that the rooms were side by side, only separated by a thin wall. It still felt too far and suddenly you were cursing your own stubbornness because fucking hell, you really didn’t want to sleep alone in a room in the middle of fucking Kansas.

Home seemed really far away without Steve.

He must’ve sensed your hesitation though, because he paused with his hand on the door knob, looking at you with those same sad, brown eyes. He leaned against the green door, a sickly shade of olive that didn’t match the yellow walls.

“You gonna be alright?” Steve asked. He licked his lips, nervous, dragging a hand through his hair. “Can we talk? About what you asked m-”

But you shook your head, the thoughts inside of it rattling and making it hurt. You wanted to say sorry. Sorry for asking, sorry for acting so childish about it, sorry that you were sad. But you opened the door and kicked in your bag, lifting a hand in a weak wave.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” you told the boy. “Night, Harrington.”

—————

You did not see the boy in the morning.

You couldn’t wait that long. Not out of excitement, nor impatience, no. It might’ve been a little regret but you watched the way the clock on the nightstand clicked over to three o’clock and you were horribly aware of how alone you were.

In a strange city. In a stranger motel, and god, there were footsteps from above and you could hear a couple arguing out in the street. Didn’t Ted Bundy stay in a motel like this?

It’s why you were standing at Steve’s door in bare feet and a too big Hawkins High shirt, your arms folded over your chest as you stared at the number ‘162’ painted on the wood.

It took you a while to knock. But the hallway light flickered and somebody from the floor above yelled out and suddenly you were that concerned about waking Steve up.

He answered like he’d already been awake, the door handle turning quickly and the light inside of his room was so much softer and warmer than the harsh overheads that lined the hallway. He seemed surprised to see you, despite knowing there wouldn’t really be anyone else knocking on his door in the middle of the night. But his eyes widened at the sight of you, hair mussed, legs bare, the thin fabric of your shirt making it obvious you weren’t wearing a bra.

He swallowed, met your gaze with the same softness you’d last seen in the sunflower fields and stood aside, letting you in. The door squeaked when he shut in and his bed was messy, the pillows askew, the sheets hanging off like he’d been tossing and turning the same way you had.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve broke the silence first and you shook your head, standing in the middle of his room a little awkwardly. “Are you okay?”

You suddenly felt very naked, more than aware of your bare legs and cotton underwear that was hidden by your shirt.

“M’fine,” you lied, because you weren’t - not really. You’d felt lonely in your room, an overwhelming sense of feeling lost and you hated it. It scratched at your skin and made you think about the back of the car at the side of the lake.

Your back had hurt every morning and you watched Steve crack his neck when he woke up and stretched out, but neither of you ever complained about sleeping curled into each other.

And one morning, when the sun was barely rising, you’d woken up with a yawn and watched the rise and fall of Steve’s chest under where your cheek lay. It had taken you a while to notice, but when you shifted, you’d felt it.

His hand curled around the hem of your sweater, clinging tight, like he needed to know you were close even in sleep.

Maybe Steve knew you better than you thought by now, maybe it was just incredibly obvious but the boy smiled a little, still kinda sad, almost a little amused and he sat back down on the edge of the mattress.

“You’re not fine.”

You shrugged.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve asked softly. You didn’t answer, but that didn’t seem to matter. “Me neither. It’s too loud, I can’t-”

He paused, eyes on the ugly patterned carpet. He sounded like he was about to admit something he wasn’t ready to.

“I can’t get comfy,” he finished.

You toed the carpet, pushed your heel into the thin scratch of it and nodded. “Neither can I.”

He knew why you were here, of course he did. Steve wasn’t stupid and you weren’t subtle. So he nodded too, pushed himself backwards onto the bed and rearranged the pillows more appropriately. The window was open to let in some cooler air and the breeze ruffled his hair, a pretty mess from trying to sleep.

His eyes seemed darker than before when they found yours and he pulled back the sheets, tilted his head at the space beside him.

“You gettin’ in?”

There was a considerable amount more space beside the boy than there had been in the back of the car. But the bed was no more than a twin, the mattress not made for two people but that didn’t stop you from walking across the room to Steve. The mattress dipped under your weight, knees pushed into the sheets as you climbed in, movements slow as if this was something you weren’t supposed to be doing.

Maybe it wasn’t.

Steve couldn’t move over for you, his frame already in line with the edge and when you finally lay down next to him, he turned into you, lying on his side so the length of him curled around the dips and curves of you. He fit perfectly behind, his chest to your back and you could feel the way his hand lay stagnant between you both, like he didn’t know what to do with it.

You didn’t come to him for a cuddle, or god, anything more. His presence was enough, the solid wall of warmth near you exactly what you needed. Your eyelids were already drooping, lips parting slack as your breathing evened out and just before sleep completely took you, you felt the boy yawn and curl into you a little more, the bridge of his nose pushed into your hair.

It was nice. It was enough. It was what you hadn’t realised you needed.

But when morning came, the heat of the sun was back, the room was empty and Steve was gone.

Maybe that was an exaggeration. His bag was still there, sitting by the desk. But his shoes were gone and the wallet and keys he’d thrown on the nightstand were too.

You sat in the bed, bleary eyed and the morning sun hazy through the sheer curtains, letting into too much light and heat for - you turned, checking the digital clock that was still glowing green - half past seven.

Panic surged through you, just for a second, maybe a minute. Because surely the boy wouldn’t leave you? Why would he leave his bag? Unless it was to throw you off? Maybe he’d emptied it and left, still annoyed by your question, your yelling at the side of the road in the middle of fucking nowhere and fucking Christ, you were alone in Kansas with no idea wh-

The metallic click of a lock being turned made you jump and face the door. It swung open, squeaking in protest and Steve cursed under his breath at the sound, closing it gently before it could slam, two takeaway coffee cups balanced in one hand, a paper bag swinging on the same wrist.

Steve.

Fuck. Steve.

If he saw the worry in your eyes give way to relief, he didn’t mention it. He cleared his throat, cheeks pink as he took in the way you were sitting in the mess of the bed. His bed. The sheets rumpled at your waist, the pillow you’d shared that smelled his shampoo and your perfume.

He held up a plastic cup, see through and filled with ice and creamy mocha coloured liquid.

“I got breakfast,” he told you with a smile, “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon.”

You could hear his apology between words, hidden underneath the smell of caffeine and the giant fruit pastries he was pulling from the bag. ‘I didn’t mean to worry you.’

“Thank you,” you said, hands already grabbing for the iced coffee he was passing you. Extra ice, two sugars, just like you ordered yourself. “Is it warm already?”

Steve nodded, sitting down at the end of the bed and he was further than he was last night but still so close and you could feel the summer radiating off of him, the sun that had already etched itself into his skin. His shirt was threadbare, thin and a pale green, his jeans rolled at the cuffs so he could get as much fresh air as possible.

“Like an oven,” he told you mournfully, mouth already full of raspberries and flakey pastry. “I miss the lake.“

You hummed in agreement, taking a long drag from your cup, closing your eyes in delight at the sweetness. “I know, a pool would be nice.”

—————

That’s how you found yourself and Steve standing in front of a chain link fence, the smell of chlorine in the air. The outdoor pool was empty, the fence locked and the sign on the front said closed for maintenance.

“Well there goes that idea,” you sighed, clutching woefully at the towel you’d snuck out of the motel room.

The sun was beaming, relentless without any clouds in the sky and your sunscreen was still sticky, coconut and aloe that Steve had rubbed into the parts of your back you couldn’t reach, both of you hot in the face.

There wasn’t much else in the area, the shops lazy, the streets quiet, people spending their Saturday indoors to escape the July heat. So Steve grinned and threw his bag over the fence, making the chain rattle when he started to climb.

“What’re you doing?” You hissed, staring at him wide eyed. You scanned the length of the sidewalk, half expecting to see the flash of police cars, the wail of a siren. “Steve!”

You heard the boy laugh as he dropped to the other side, grinning, bright eyed and full of trouble. He looked at the pool, the glittering water, the way the blue of it bounced off of the white walls of the locked changing rooms. He lifted his chin at you, smirking, baiting.

“C’mon.” He said it like a dare.

You groaned but followed, eyes nervous as they scanned the street as you climbed. You weren't usually one to bend the rules, and breaking and entering wasn’t on your to do list for that day either. But Steve was already stripping off, his clothes left at the side of the pool edge as he jumped in, swim shorts already on.

You squealed at the hit of cool water on your legs, jumping the rest of the way onto the sun warmed concrete, and in a manic burst of adrenaline, you wrestled out of your dress, revealing your bikini and bare skin. You launched yourself in after the boy, hearing him laugh before you plunged underneath the surface.

The water was cool, almost cold and it felt lovely against your skin. The smell of chlorine mixed with your sunscreen, the leftover smell of Steve’s cologne that clung to your hair after sleeping so close the night before. He looked at you like he was kinda proud, like you jumping in after him made him so happy.

The day went like that, uninterrupted, no arrests, clear skies and a whole pool just for the two of you.

Everything was blue and warm, the water, the sky, the navy shadows, the buildings cast across the concrete. And when the afternoon waned and clouds rolled in, they were indigo too.

But nothing was as pretty as the way Steve had been looking at you, brown eyes just as warm as the sun. It had been peaceful, the way you’d swam laps around each other, talking quietly and laughing, the night before forgotten about. You only wanted to remember the sunflowers, the way his hand had found your own amongst the yellow petals, the endless fields.

It’s like the argument hadn’t happened, it was like you’d never asked him that question. And if you pretended hard enough, you could forget the silence that followed it. You both went back to playing stupid, and maybe, just maybe, it was better that way.

Or so you thought.

You were stretched on the pool edge when the clock above the closed snack stand told you it was almost six o’clock. Your legs kicked lazy circles in the water, your arms stretched out behind you, palms pushed to the sun warmed tiles. Steve was in the middle of the pool, messy hair and tanned skin amongst the bright blue and he was looking at you again.

It was a gaze you couldn’t decipher and you realised that’s how Steve was looking at you too, like you were a puzzle, a question he didn’t know the answer to. Or like he was too nervous to say it.

But then there was a small splash, ripples around your calves and then Steve was there, holding onto the pool wall by your side, shoulders brushing your thighs, everything bare skinned, suntanned and wet.

You swallowed hard.

“Hey,” he smiled, soft and almost a little shy. “Tell me a secret.”

You grinned, looked down at the boy with his damp hair and wide smile, new freckles on his cheeks that weren’t there before his day spent under the sun. You kicked out a leg, watched the water splash and glitter under the glow of the sky, dusk settling over the town. It was still quiet and you swore, you could hear your heartbeat.

Maybe Steve could too.

“A secret?” you asked and he hummed, knowing you were stalling. “I dunno, I don’t think I have anymore.”

“Bullshit.”

You laughed, watching the way Steve’s hand curled around your ankle, tugging playfully, threatening to pull you back in with him if you didn’t spill. So you wriggled out of his grasp and gave in, sighing dramatically before telling him:

“When I was six, I tried to smuggle a possum into the house.” You were deadly serious, straight faced when you said it.

Steve stared. And then a grin split his lips, laughter spilling over you like the sun and he tilted his head to look up at you, shaking his head.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you popped the p, your own laughter colouring your tone.

“Why?” Steve huffed, his humour infectious, his hand on the edge of the pool moving closer to your leg and everything was light and easy and god, he was looking at you in such a lovely way.

“I really wanted a pet,” you grinned when Steve snorted, your shoulders shaking with the way you laughed.

“How did you even catch it?”

You shrugged, properly giggling, and Steve’s eyes were bright, shining with amusement because god, you were something else, he thought.

“Christ, you’re trouble,” Steve mused, lips twisted in a smile, pool water clinging to his lashes. You were sure he’d called you that before, and it made your stomach dip and tumble, because he said it like a compliment.

“Your turn,” you told the boy, when you’d both calmed down enough, cheeks sore from sunburn and smiling. “Are you gonna tell me a secret, Steve?”

He liked the way you said his name, he decided. Like you took the time to let it fall from your lips, like you liked saying it.

He was almost between your legs now, up to his shoulders in cool water, floating in the space between your calves, staring up at you like you were the sun. Maybe he was feeling reckless, maybe he was just feeling brave. It could’ve been the way he thought you looked so fucking pretty with your messy hair and flushed cheeks, drops of water sliding down your skin, casting tiny rainbows over your arms and stomach.

Maybe he just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“That night, at the party?” Steve murmured, his hand brushing your ankle underneath the surface. “I kissed you ‘cause I really wanted to. ‘Cause I’d wanted to for a long time.”

Your lips parted in surprise.

“Used to have the biggest crush on you,” he was pink in the cheeks at his admittance, nose scrunched like he was a shy school boy all over again. “All through middle school, even sophomore year.”

You didn’t say anything.

Steve let himself fall backward, slow and soft into the water, swimming away a little, eyes still on you. He dragged a hand through his damp hair, made it stick up a little messy and shrugged at you as if he didn’t know what else to say.

You ducked your chin at his gaze, suddenly feeling the most shy you’d ever felt in front of the boy.

“Yeah?” you asked to the water, staring at the shimmer on the surface, at the way the setting sun made the pool turn a deep lavender.

“Yeah,” you heard the boy say.

You didn’t have the courage to ask him if still harboured that same crush, if it came back when he kissed you, if kissing you felt as good as he’d maybe imagined it.

So you took his secret like you took all of them, with a smile and a silent promise to hold onto it, clasped tight to your chest like it was your own.

Maybe this one was.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blub #stranger things fic #stranger things

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tgrailwar-zero · 16 days

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You felt your pockets grow 400 PPT lighter as the exchange happened. Considering that you'd have to pay an equal fee to JAGUAR MAN later, you felt that this would be a heavy hit to your wallet.

PRETENDER: "Well, like I said, I didn't even see what happened. I only got there after the fact, and while what I saw there was pretty in the aesthetic sense, it didn't bode well for our team."

"I mean, was it absolute destruction? Not really." "It was a smooth pool. A total reset. A Noble Phantasm, or an Act of God… I really couldn't tell you which. But I figured it was pure chance that I wasn't there, and perhaps even greater luck that I wasn't the only one to survive- if Avenger is alive." "And, even still, it began rebuilding itself. Slowly, and carefully. A smooth pool turning into rushing water, an ocean that would one day welcome an island, and then perhaps inhabitants." "And then, a shadow manifested, rising from the water's reflection under the light of the sun. And it left a message. It was… ahem, something like…"

'…Our directive has changed. A poison has entered our system, and thus we must purify it and then expand outward.'

'To reach the Moon, they must return here. Here, I will test their mettle. Here, I will test their resolve.

'If they cannot best me, then I am the only one who can destroy the Titan. If they can, then perhaps fate is written differently than designed'

'So, with everything-- My everything. Their everything. The 'everything' that was left behind by those forgotten souls'

'They will prove their worthiness of it all in order to save it all.'

PRETENDER: "…Mm. That's all I remember, I just ran. I know it's cowardly, but I didn't stand a chance against anything that could wipe out so much land and rebuild it like it was nothing."