#also im not completely sure that these are the exact first scenes

[nerdallwritey]

Awfully Fond of You

Request: i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little something for act 1, during the tiefling party for an autistic tav who has a crush on astarion but also has body insecurities + SA trauma, maybe instead of the usual scene that goes down they request to bathe with astarion instead? a tav with poor interoception (sense of awareness with one’s body) who loves to help and touch others but doesn’t quite register others touching them or how they feel about it but still craving intimacy with astarion is something i’m obsessed with (*^^*)*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* i love your writing style and NEVER request so im super nervous!!  - 🪴 (Link to original request here).

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Rating: 18+ - no smut, but mature themes Word Count: 7.7k CW: Very vague alludes to SA trauma, reader is a sweetie pie, Astarion is an idiot as always - No explicit smut this time; this one's mostly fluff! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3

a/n: Hello folks! I come bearing my very first request fulfillment! As you can tell from the ask, 🪴 anon wanted something very personal and sweet, and I'm incredibly honored that they chose me to see their vision come to life. I did my best to hit every beat they requested, while also staying true to my writing style, which, of course, means there's plenty of banter to be had. Yes, it is a bit similar to An Evening To Ourselves and Perfect Every Time (I swear I was in the middle of writing that one when I received this request), but I'm pleased with how this new remix of Astarion's Act 1 romance scene turned out! And yes, the title IS based on a lyric from everyone's favorite Sesame Street bath time song, "Rubber Duckie." HIT IT, BOYS! (Thank you, as always, to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) NOTE: This Tav is completely separate from bard!Tav and does not take place in the same universe as Beauty and the Bard. Part 5 of that coming soon! And my request box is open!

Without further ado, 🪴 anon, I hope you like it!

The air in camp was abuzz with laughter and cheer. Booze flowed into goblets and down throats, and smiles graced the faces of nearly every guest currently in attendance of the last minute celebration thrown together by you and your companions.

With the goblins and their leaders defeated in what turned out to be a rather difficult encounter, Halsin and Zevlor had insisted on celebrating with you and your party at your campsite before the tieflings made their way to Baldur’s Gate within the next few days. 

Alfira supplied the evening with a somewhat constant stream of joyful songs, only stopping every so often to enjoy a drink with Lakrissa, while other tieflings danced and mingled with each other, relief and excitement making their shoulders relax as they reached for more goblets of wine. 

You were in the process of making your rounds through the party; you’d shared a drink with Shadowheart, some jokes with Gale and Karlach, a quiet moment with Wyll, and a confusing conversation with Lae’zel about limbs being torn from a neogi? You weren’t entirely sure what those even were, but you had to assume they were a fearsome creature if Lae’zel was bringing it up. 

That only left Astarion.

To be honest, you’d been avoiding him all night. Try as he might to catch your eye whenever you passed by, whether it be with a pointed clearing of his throat or a blatant call of your name, you would zero in on something else, and focus all your attention on that. Even if it meant sitting through an extended conversation with Volo. 

But now, there was nowhere left to go. Unless you opted to avoid him completely. And that would only lead to questions from your companions that you wouldn’t know how to answer.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. No. In fact, it was the exact opposite. You liked him a lot. And you weren’t sure what to do about it. 

Astarion was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and you were… you. You’d been you, your whole life, and knew for a fact that the pair of you were an odd couple. Where he was crass, you were kind. Where he was violent, you opted to talk things through. 

And yet, you couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with him. His bloodlust was fascinating to watch, and you loved sparring both physically and verbally with him. More than once, you’d both saved the other’s ass in a sticky situation during battle. More than once, you’d allowed him to drink from you to ease his sanguine hunger. 

You were pretty sure that at the very least, he considered you a friend, though you weren’t sure he’d ever directly admit that to you. Unlike Gale and Wyll, who often reminded you how much they appreciated your friendship, Astarion was much tougher to read. Yet despite his somewhat malicious name calling and disapproval towards your actions, you couldn’t help but feel that he had a soft spot for you. Even when you were telling him he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood, it seemed like he legitimately enjoyed your company. The thought made you smile softly.

Taking in a deep breath and straightening your posture, you finally willed yourself to approach the vampire.

His eyes lit up in that way they often did when he was preparing to tease you.

“There you are, darling,” he said, dramatically. “I was worried I’d never see you again.”

“Worried I’d leave you, huh?” you teased with a smirk. 

Astarion tsked. “Perish the thought. But I recognize someone avoiding me when I see it.”

“Ah,” you clasped your hands in front of yourself, looking down at the ground, “you noticed that.”

“When I usually have to pry you away from me, yes, I noticed.” He took a swig of the wine he was holding.

You nodded and bobbed back and forth on your toes. “Best for last, I guess?” you shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him, hoping he’d drop the subject.

He hummed lamely. 

“So,” you perked up, “are you enjoying the party? I see you’ve been indulging in the spirits.”

“Watching me, were you?” Astarion smirked and you held up your hands, caught.

“Guilty.”

“You know,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You reached out to squeeze his arm. “Don’t say that.”

His eyes met yours, and he gently pulled his arm out of your grasp. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He closed his eyes and took another swig of his wine. When he brought the bottle away and opened his eyes, he met you with a scowl. “I hate it. This is awful.”

You laughed. “Really? Saving lives is awful?” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much.”

“You’re awful,” you shook your head affectionately. 

He looked smug before puffing his chest. “And what do I get for all my hard work?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Nothing but a pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” 

You pursed your lips and reached for the bottle, brushing your fingers against his own. 

“Let me try,” you said, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a sip. Your tongue was flooded with the bitter taste of fermented grapes and something else you couldn’t place. Your face scrunched at the flavor and Astarion snorted.

“See what I mean? Awful.”

You handed the bottle back to him, smacking your tongue to get rid of the aftertaste. He took the opportunity to continue speaking.

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You let out an amused scoff. “Knowing you, it probably is.”

Astarion lifted a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, don’t be so sour. I like a good time as much as anyone.”

“‘Sour,’” you repeated, pointing at his wine bottle. “Good one.”

He smirked. “You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling.”

“Oh, really?” You lifted an eyebrow. “And what does that entail?”

“We could get a little closer, so to speak.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing to Astarion. You took a considerable step backwards and crossed your arms. 

“Sorry, I was really close to you just now, wasn’t I?” You rubbed up and down your bicep awkwardly.

Astarion blinked before his face settled into a seductive smirk. He reached his free hand out to rest on your hip. “On the contrary, my dear. I rather like it when you’re close.”

“Oh, good,” you sighed in relief. You brought your hand down to where Astarion’s rested on your hip. “Sometimes I can’t tell.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hip slightly. “So what do you say?”

“To us getting closer? I don’t mind!” To emphasize your point, you took a step forward and rested your other hand on his shoulder.

Astarion furrowed his brow. Then he chuckled again, gently removing both of your hands from his body. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.”

“Okay, now I’m really interested in what kind of entertainment you have planned.” You smirked at him, sensing a shift in his tone, but unsure of what it meant. “Don’t tell me you’re a master of shadow puppets or something.”

He smiled skeptically. “Very funny,” he said slowly. “But I trust you’ll meet me?”

You giggled. “Yes, I’ll see you later, Astarion.” 

“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.” Rather than bid you a proper goodbye, Astarion brought the wine bottle to his lips once more and turned away from you. 

You spun on your heel and made your way back to the party. 

This was fine. Good, even! Spending time one-on-one with Astarion was probably exactly what you needed if you wanted to navigate this silly crush you’d developed. Sure, he’d just called you “my love,” and that was a new one, but it wasn’t that much different from the other pet names he threw at you and your companions. You didn’t need this foolish infatuation distracting you on your journey or, gods forbid, diverting your attention during battle. No, this would be the perfect time to remind yourself and your fluttering heart that Astarion was, first and foremost, your friend, and a person. It didn’t need to be anything more than that. 

Your feet carried you not too far from Astarion’s tent and landed you at Karlach’s tent, the tiefling in question currently lying on her back, looking up at the stars.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” you said, standing over her. 

“Soldier!” she grinned, her eyes a bit fuzzy from the wine. 

“This seat taken?” You kicked your foot over some dirt to her left. 

“All yours,” she said, sitting up to join you. 

You settled down next to her and watched the party still taking place at the center of camp. It sounded like Gale and Lae’zel were having some sort of heated argument over which main courses were best to prepare for battle, while Halsin awkwardly weaved between them to gather a plate of food for himself.

“Saw you chatting up Fangs just now,” Karlach playfully air-elbowed you, careful not to accidentally touch and scorch you. “Did he have anything good to say?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged. “He was an ass to me, I was an ass to him, the usual.”

Karlach nodded. “Sounds about right.”

You both sat in pleasant silence for a moment before you laughed a little. “It’s funny, he actually asked me to spend time with him tonight, after the party.”

Karlach furrowed her brow. “After the party? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, “he said we could ‘make our own entertainment.’” You made air quotes when you repeated his words. “I figure he wants to read together or something. It was just weird how he phrased it.”

She sat up a little straighter, her expression growing more serious. “Hang on, what were his words, exactly?”

You leaned back a little, confused by her sudden interest in your mundane conversation with the vampire. “Um… I don’t know. He said he didn’t like being a hero, I told him not to say that, he said he wanted more than a pat on the head and bad wine, I tried the wine and it was bad, he said he wanted a little fun, ‘is that so much to ask?’ and I said ‘knowing you, it probably is,’ and then he said we could make our own entertainment. Or something like that.”

“Huh.” Karlach thought for a moment. “I think he means to bone you, Soldier.”

You sputtered out a laugh. “What?! No he doesn’t!”

“He sooooo does!” Karlach barked out a laugh. “And good for you! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“He does not,” you said again, trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince Karlach. 

But you faltered. 

“Does he?”

“Soldier,” Karlach lowered her head at you, giving you an incredulous look, “he was absolutely asking you to get nasty with him.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” she threw her hands up in the air. “We all see the way you look at each other! You practically undress one another with your eyes every time you see each other!”

“No we don’t!” you argued, but shrank back when Karlach raised an eyebrow at you. 

“You do. You know you do.” 

“Am I that obvious?” you asked, lifting your hands to your cheeks as you felt them heating up. 

Karlach started counting on her fingers. “He’s always the first one you check on after a battle, you’re always walking next to him when we’re traveling, AND you let him drink your blood. Weirdly often. Which is gross.”

“I like helping him,” you countered weakly. “And I always check on you guys, too!”

“Of course you do, Soldier, but we can all see how you two treat each other differently.”

You peered over at Astarion’s tent. He lounged comfortably amongst his pillows, a book propped open in his lap and his bottle of wine was not too far off. 

How could he be so casual and relaxed about all of this? The thought of talking to him later tonight made your stomach drop.

“What if I turn him down?” you asked softly, leaning forward to hug your knees.

Karlach’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She reached out a hand, but retracted it. “If I could, I’d rub your back like my mum used to do when I was a kid.”

You smiled over at her. “Thanks.”

She nodded. “If you don’t want to sleep with the leech, that’s your choice. Don’t let him talk you into it if it’s not what you want.”

“I’m not entirely sure what I want,” you admitted, looking up at the familiar stars above.

Karlach sighed. “Well, you don’t have to decide anything tonight.” She nodded her head towards his tent. “In fact, I could go beat the shit out of him, if you’d like.”

You laughed. “Not necessary. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I know you will,” you smiled and settled your cheek on top of your knee. “I do really like him,” you confessed.

Karlach thought for a moment. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem?” She cocked her head curiously.

You sighed. “Sex isn’t really something… I have a great relationship with.”

“Ah,” Karlach nodded. “Same,” she joked, flaring her flames a little for good measure.

You snickered quietly. “I won’t get into it, but… yeah. No thanks. For now, at least.”

“Say no more,” she held up her hand and turned to observe Astarion at his tent. “You could always just see what he has to say? Maybe he just wants to show you he’s a master at shadow puppets or something.”

“That’s what I said!” you laughed, and Karlach joined in.

When you’d both settled, she spoke again. “But seriously, Soldier. Astarion may be a freaky vampiric bastard, but I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

“I don’t think he would either.”

“He knows we’d kill him.”

“I’m sure you’d all take turns sending him to the hells.”

“You bet your sweet ass we would,” she brought her fist to her hand as if preparing to punch this hypothetical Astarion. 

After another quiet moment, she spoke again. “You don’t have to go with him tonight. Or, I could come with you, if you want. As backup.”

“Thanks,” you said, “but I think I need to have this conversation with him alone.”

“Of course.”

You looked back over at Astarion’s tent. He was now standing and stretching his arms over his head. When he caught you watching him, he smirked and threw a wink in your direction. You quickly snapped your head forward, back towards the center of the party. Groaning, you brought your hands up to cover your face.

“What am I gonna do?”

~~~~~

Staring into the trees ahead of you, you remained frozen in place. 

The party had died down and dispersed about an hour ago, giving you and your companions plenty of time to perform a quick cleanup and head to bed. And just as Astarion had said, once a peaceful quiet had enveloped the camp, he’d come to your tent and wordlessly motioned for you to follow him. 

Now you were wringing your hands, trying to convince yourself to follow after him into the forest.

Karlach was right: you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. And Astarion was a reasonable guy. 

To a degree.

Okay, no he wasn’t. 

He was always prepared to kill someone who wronged him in an instant. But surely he’d be reasonable in this department. Your gut told you that that was true. And if it wasn’t, you’d sicc Karlach and the others on him. 

You knew it wouldn’t come to that, though. You felt strongly that he was the type who wouldn’t react rashly to a rejection. 

Before you’d even made up your mind to do so, you found yourself walking into the trees, following the general direction you’d seen Astarion head off towards. The least you could do was hear him out. And who knew, maybe this would be a funny anecdote in your friendship later on down the line. Only time would tell.

It took a few minutes of mindless wandering before you reached a clearing. You kept going, prepared to keep walking until you eventually found Astarion, when you spotted him emerging from behind a tree in your peripheral. 

You screeched to a halt and turned to face him, growing stiff with nerves when you realized he was shirtless. 

“There you are,” he said, his hand lingering on the tree behind him. “I’ve been waiting.” 

He approached you slowly. 

Seductively. 

You stood completely still.

He continued, “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”

You swallowed thickly.

He moved even closer. “Waiting to have you.”

“About that,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “what exactly do you mean?”

Astarion’s sensual expression morphed into one of confusion. Then he laughed a little. “Isn’t it obvious? Tonight is about pleasure.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” you muttered.

While you were pretty sure he heard you, Astarion pressed on anyway. 

“Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

“Astarion,” you said quickly, surging forward to grab his hands in yours, “please.”

He looked surprised, but quickly recovered with an alluring smirk. “Please what, darling?”

“We don’t have to.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Don’t have to what?”

You groaned and leaned your head forward to rest on his bare shoulder. After a second you lifted your face back up to look at him. “We don’t have to sleep together.”

This time, Astarion looked stunned. “Then… what are you doing here?” 

You shrugged. “I thought we could talk.”

Astarion pulled away from you and took a step back. “‘Talk?’ I thought we had an understanding?”

“See, that’s the thing,” you said, “I did not understand.”

“Hmm,” he hummed and tilted his head in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “I thought you wanted to spend time together.”

“Oh, but I do,” his lips quirked up mischievously. “I mean to spend the entire night with you, my dear.”

“And while that sounds great, I think you and I are having different thoughts about how to spend that time.” You held his gaze, willing him to hear you.

He humphed. “So you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Not right now, no.”

He sputtered his lips together and threw his arms up. “And what does that mean?”

“It means… It means I don’t want to have sex right now. At all.” You watched his face scrunch in incredulity. “It has nothing to do with you!” you clarified, grabbing one of his hands again. “Believe me, this is all me.”

Astarion looked you up and down, scanning your body language. You still held his hand and leaned into him ever so slightly. 

“What’s this then?” he asked, placing his free hand over the hand holding his.

You pulled away from him completely. “Sorry,” you said, “I end up touching the people I like. I don’t realize I’m doing it.”

He narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces together in his head. 

“You like me.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t want to sleep with me.”

“Yes.”

“So… what? You want to be friends or something?” He made a sour expression.

You laughed softly. “I’d like to think we’re already friends, actually.”

“And why would you think that?” Astarion asked, but you saw in his eyes that he was teasing.

You smiled lightly. “Maybe because you won’t stop following me around Faerûn?”

“Well, it’s not like I-”

“Or maybe because you’ve had a taste of my blood and now you can’t get enough?”

“Okay, that’s-”

“Or maybe because Karlach said you treat me differently than you treat everyone else.”

“She did not!” Astarion sounded genuinely scandalized and you laughed.

“Face it, pretty boy, you like me, too.”

Astarion groaned and rolled his eyes. “This is not at all going how I planned.”

You pursed your lips and wrapped your arms around yourself again. “Sorry.”

He glanced back at you and saw you staring at the ground. He sighed. 

“No, I’m sorry, darling.”

You met his eyes. He stepped closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch. 

“I assumed you wanted the same thing as me, and I was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” he said, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek, “I misread your touches as advances rather than…” He searched for the proper words. “One of your quirks.”

You exhaled, amused. “You didn’t entirely misread me.”

“Pardon?”

“I do like you. A lot. And if things were different, maybe I would sleep with you, but…”

Astarion pulled away from you and held up a hand. “No explanation needed, darling.” He smirked. “But it's good to know how you feel.”

You felt your cheeks go red. “Yeah,” you said, suddenly shy.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “You’re so adorable when you’re thinking of what to say.”

You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “I have another idea,” you said.

He nodded for you to continue and crossed his arms.

“Um… if it’s alright with you, I…” You paused, not exactly sure how he’d react. 

“What is it, darling?”

“I’d like to… bathe you.”

Astarion uncrossed his arms and looked rather dumbfounded.

“What?”

Your words came out clumsily and a little too fast: “Or not! I don’t know, I just like you so much, and I’d like to be closer to you but I don’t want to have sex with you so I thought maybe we could get closer another way, or maybe-”

“Okay,” Astarion interrupted.

“Huh?”

He moved closer to you and brushed some hair out of your face.

“Okay,” he repeated softly. “Let’s bathe together.”

“Oh,” you said, disbelief painting your features. 

Astarion laughed. “Did you assume I’d say no?”

You shrugged as a smile grew on your face. “I don’t know what I expected,” you reached for his hand, “but I’m really glad you said yes.”

~~~~~

The walk back to camp was pleasantly silent, save for the crickets singing their nightly aria. Astarion kept pace with you, the back of your hands brushing every so often, each time sending a tiny shock wave through your body. 

This was happening. You were going to have a private, intimate moment with Astarion. Even if it hadn’t been what he originally intended, you were happy to think of a compromise that still allowed you to get close to him in a way that you knew the others in camp hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t. It made you feel special.

Happy.

And nervous. 

Nervous as all hells, to be honest. You felt your heart speeding up with every step you took, bringing you closer to camp.

“Something wrong, darling?” Astarion asked, giving you a sideways glance.

You jumped a little when his voice broke the silence. “Huh?”

“Your heart, love. It’s pounding.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “Nervous?”

“Oh, that.” You held a hand to your chest and focused on slowing your breathing. When you turned to look at him, you asked, “Is that weird?”

“Seeing as how this was your suggestion, maybe a little.” He smiled and nudged his shoulder into yours.

You groaned. “If this is too weird, let’s just not.”

Astarion halted and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He spun you to look into his eyes. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling, cut it out.”

“Oh, okay great. Done.”

“Really?”

“No, not really!” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He sighed. “Never is that easy, is it?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you shook your head anyway. 

“Well, whatever’s making you nervous, I’ll strive to steer clear of it.”

He looked at you expectantly, as if he wanted some sort of explanation. You avoided his eyes and moved to continue walking towards camp. He followed close behind.

“It’s just that…” you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “I haven’t been… naked in front of someone. For a while.”

Astarion bit his lip, mirth in his eyes.

“Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, mortified.

“No, no, darling!” His tone was gleeful. “Apologies. It’s just that that’s what’s making you nervous? I’ll have you know that you’re one of the more beautiful creatures who I’ve attempted to bed. You have nothing to fear. I’ve seen all manner of bodies and I can assure you, yours will be nothing short of exquisite. In fact, your shyness is rather endearing.” He smiled at you, looking like he might still be withholding a laugh.

You flattened your lips into a line. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” You began walking ahead of him but stopped when you heard him call your name.

“I may be a rake and a thief, but I’m no liar.”

You blinked at him. “Yes you are! You lie all the time!”

“Okay, yes, sure, but I don’t lie about things that matter! Things like this!” He motioned up and down, indicating your body.

Just as he did so, the two of you emerged from the trees and into camp. You held a finger to your lips and indicated for him to be quiet. He nodded and padded after you as you crept quietly towards the shore of the lake that lapped quietly next to your sleeping campsite. You bent to pick up towels, along with the bucket that held soap and other washing supplies that you and your companions shared in an effort to stay clean on the road. You held them up and motioned for Astarion to follow you again, away from where Withers stoically kept watch, and more towards where you’d spoken with Wyll earlier in the evening. When you turned to face Astarion, his eyes were full of questions.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” you asked.

He perked up and grinned. “My love, there is nothing I’d like more.”

You searched his eyes one more time to make sure he was serious. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you motioned for him to step into the lake. 

“Ladies first,” you teased, looking anywhere but at Astarion.

He, in turn, looked down his nose at you. “I know what this is,” he said, pointing a lazy finger at you.

“What’s what?”

“You’re stalling, darling.”

“I am not!”

Astarion crossed his arms and tilted his head towards you, unimpressed.

Your posture fell into a slouch. “Okay fine, maybe I am stalling.”

“Really?” Astarion said dramatically before dropping his arms to his sides again. He approached you, close enough to where you could feel his cool breath on your face. 

He placed both of his hands on your hips. You looked down to watch as his fingers drummed a calming rhythm into your sides. He whistled quietly, gaining your attention. 

“Let’s start here,” he suggested, now fingering the hem of your shirt. He refused to let you look away. 

You nodded.

“Good,” he purred as you raised your arms and helped him take off your shirt. 

The cool air of the evening immediately sent goosebumps down your arms, and you unconsciously crossed them over your chest for warmth.

Astarion tsked. “Come now,” he protested and placed two gentle hands on your wrists, guiding them to your sides. “Lovely,” he praised once he was able to look at you. 

You made an uncomfortable sound before placing your hands on your waistband. 

“These probably need to come off next, right?”

“Typically that’s how one bathes themself, yes.”

“Right,” you agreed, watching as Astarion mirrored you and reached for his own waistband. You looked down at your legs as you removed your pants, leaving you in only your underwear. 

“Goodness, love,” Astarion said quietly and you looked at him shyly. He himself was now only in his underwear. “You have nothing to be shy about. You’re magnificent.”

“Would you shush and get into the water please?” you half teased, half begged. Anything  to end this weird tension you were feeling. 

“Alright,” he laughed softly before reaching for the waistband of his underwear. He looked at you for approval. When you nodded, he removed them in one fluid motion as if he’d done this a million times. Maybe he had.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but stare at the space between his legs.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Eyes up here.”

“Sorry,” you said, immediately flicking your eyes up to his face. “I didn’t- It’s just-”

Astarion chuckled. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Your turn,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

You bit your lip and slowly reached for your underwear. When you pulled them off, Astarion watched you without a hint of judgment in his eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and shifted nervously on your feet. 

He held out a hand to you and you stared at it before looking up at his face. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going in this frigid water alone, are you mad?”

You laughed and took his hand. He instantly pulled your body to his, holding you so that you were chest to chest. He gave you a seductive smirk before leaning in. You leaned away, avoiding his advances. You shook your head ever so slightly before stepping into the gentle water. Astarion remained standing on the shore before following after you. 

Braving the cold of the water, you sunk down until you were sitting in neck deep water. You let the bucket you’d brought with you float next to you as Astarion crept through the water, clearly freezing. 

“Why did I let you convince me to bathe at night? There’s no sun out to warm this wretched lake.”

You ducked your mouth below the surface to blow some bubbles in his direction. “You should know by now that dunking your whole body helps you warm up faster.”

He gave you a dirty look before slowly sinking down in front of you, yelping and contorting his face the entire time. You couldn’t help but squawk out a laugh. 

When he was fully seated, he pulled you towards him, making you sit in his lap. He gave you a sensual look that had you frowning and pulling back. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“When I said I wanted to bathe you, that’s all I meant.”

“Ah.” His tone was confused. Then he shook his head. “Right, sorry. This is - well… you know.” He smiled, looking like he was admitting defeat and that he wasn’t pleased about it. “I have no idea what to do with you.”

You swam behind him, pulling the bucket of soap towards you and laying your hands on both of his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He spun to face you. “Nothing?”

You nodded and he huffed out a laugh. “No sex, no fooling around…I’m sorry, darling. It’s just - having to slow down, it’s… I’m just not used to it.” 

“That’s okay,” you rested your hands on his shoulders again. “We’re in no rush.”

He hummed. “Can you… I don’t know. Help? Show me what to do?”

Laughing, you took his hand. “I’ll try.”

You led your weightless bodies into shallower water and had Astarion sit facing away from you, towards the shore. Reaching for the bucket again, you pulled out a bar of soap and a sponge. 

“Relax,” you cooed, seeing how tensely he held his shoulders close to his ears. 

He let loose a breath and you watched as he relaxed his muscles. Your eyes traveled lower, suddenly catching a glimpse of a complicated and gruesome scar on his back. Your eyes widened, taking in how the water and moonlight reflected off of it. Calmly, you dipped the sponge in the water and added soap before gently rubbing his right shoulder. Astarion melted further, allowing his neck to tilt forward, which, in turn, gave you a better view of his scarred flesh.

“Um… Is it okay for me to wash your back?” you hesitated in bringing the sponge across his shoulder and over his back to his other shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t - oh. I suppose you’re talking about the poem.” He barely looked over his shoulder at you.

“I’ve never seen a poem like this,” you said quietly, a hint of anger in your voice.

He chuckled darkly in response. “It’s a gift from my old master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. Do you like it, darling?” He shimmied his shoulders, mockingly preening over the evidence of his own torment.

“Not at all,” you said evenly, continuing to wash his shoulders. 

“Ouch, love, you’d hurt his feelings if he heard that.” Not a hint of joy reached his eyes.

“I don’t much care about the feelings of this old master of yours.”

“Oh, be still, my undead heart,” he held a hand to his chest sarcastically. Then he sighed. “You’re allowed to wash it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” His voice was quiet when he said, “Thank you for asking.”

Wordlessly, you moved the sponge from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades. 

“I’m not going to break,” he laughed softly, “you don’t have to be so gentle.”

You increased the pressure you were applying to his skin before adding more soap to the sponge. “Move up a little,” you instructed, tapping him to move closer to the shore. “Lean forward.”

Now you had a better angle to wash away the grime of the road from his back, and an even better view of the scar. You clicked your tongue and set to work. 

Perhaps uncomfortable by your silence, Astarion began to speak again. “He, Cazador, composed and carved that poem over the course of a night.” There was a venom to his words. Maybe a deep regret, or a weighing sadness. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”

Your hand paused over a particularly brutal ridge. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against the raised tissue. “You’re brave for enduring that.”

“What are you doing?” Astarion straightened, making you push your cheek further into his skin. 

You pulled back immediately. “Sorry, I wanted to hug you. I should have asked. I just… wanted you to know that I care.”

Astarion looked over his shoulder at you blankly. “You ‘care?’”

You nodded. “Turn back around, let me keep washing you.”

He gave you a slight nod before facing forward again and leaning over. 

After another silent moment of gliding the sponge across his back, you asked, “Any idea what it means? Or is it just some pattern?”

Astarion let out an unamused laugh. “Hells if I know. Not sure how much you know about vampires, darling, but typically, we can’t see our reflections.” He spoke as if talking to a child. 

You splashed his back with a small wave from your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re lashing out at me when I was just asking a question.”

“I-” He paused. Then he fell silent.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but… I’m not your enemy,” you said gently. “We don’t have to keep talking about this. We don’t have to talk at all.”

Astarion groaned. “Silence is dreadful, darling.”

“Is that why you never stop talking?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Good one,” he said flatly, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “I only talk because you lot never have anything interesting to say.”

You scoffed with a smile. “I have plenty of interesting things to say!”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Like-” you thought for a moment. “Like the other day! When I was talking with you about your embroidery!” By now you’d moved on to washing over Astarion’s arms. You spun him to face you so you could wash and massage his hands. 

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Unfortunately, darling, that’s not an entirely interesting topic, seeing as how I was in the middle of mending a shirt and you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.”

“I did not!” you denied, massaging between his fingers. Unconsciously, his fingers curled around yours before retracting and flexing. 

“Deny all you want, you still didn’t say anything interesting.”

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “If I’m so uninteresting, why did you want to spend the evening with me of all people?” You were massaging his other hand. 

“You-” He paused again.

“I?”

“You’re… I’m still trying to figure you out.” His voice grew softer when you pulled yourself closer to wash across his chest. You sensed the shift and looked up at his face to make sure he was okay with your actions. When he nodded minutely, you continued. 

“If you’re trying to figure me out… one might say that you’re interested in me.”

He groaned. “Say whatever you want to help you sleep better tonight, darling.”

“Uh huh,” you said pleasantly to yourself, feeling like you’d won. You looked away to add more soap to the sponge and when you looked back, you realized how close you were to his face. His pupils were blown wider than usual and you could see yourself reflected in his eyes against the moonlight. His breath tickled your face. 

He watched you with an intensity that had you hesitating. Why was he so-?

“Look up,” you said, looking up yourself to demonstrate what you wanted. “Please.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could before looking up at the sky. 

You carefully brushed the sponge along his throat, pausing briefly when you got to the twin wounds on his throat from the night he was turned. You circled them gently with the sponge before rinsing the suds with water cupped in your hand. A shiver ran through Astarion’s body.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said looking back down at you once you’d finished rinsing the suds away. “But I’d very much like to kiss you.”

You blinked a few times before resting your forehead against his. When you pulled back, you asked, “Is it okay for me to wash your hair?”

Astarion looked at you for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I suppose so,” he said.

“I don’t have to. Your legs are still-”

“I can handle my own lower half, thank you.” He winked at you.

You smiled and handed him the sponge before bringing yourself to rest behind him again. You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water.

“You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket for Astarion to see.

“I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.”

“A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.”

“I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

Instead of dumping the entire bucket on his head like you threatened, you poured a gentle stream along the back of his skull before moving forward to evenly wet the rest of his hair. 

“Bloody hells, that is cold,” he pushed some flattened curls out of his face.

“For being a fearsome vampire, you sure are a wimp,” you teased. 

“I could rip your throat out.”

“And I might be able to drown you.” You placed firm hands on both his shoulders and pushed gently, as if you wanted to test your theory. 

“Terrifying,” he smirked, running the sponge along his legs underwater.

“You should see what I did to those goblins who were holding Halsin hostage.”

Astarion laughed. “I know, darling, I was there. Who knew you could be so hellbent on vengeance?”

You laughed softly, coating your hands in soap before running them through his curls. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like?” he prompted.

“Astarion!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “You want to know more about me?”

“Well if I knew you’d make a fuss, I wouldn’t have said anything.” Despite his tone, his eyes were closed in pleasure as you continued to massage his scalp. 

You chuckled quietly, trying to think of something to share with him. 

“I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate my whole life,” you started.

“A shame we never crossed paths.”

“I’m not entirely sure you’d spare me a passing glance.”

Astarion opened his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

You shrugged. “I read a lot, growing up, and liked being indoors. But I also liked the outdoors. I helped my dad tend our garden, and helped my mom cook dinner–”

“How quaint.”

“We’d visit my aunt in the Upper City every Midwinter, and I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.” 

“Pity, you have such a promising career as a spa keeper.”

You examined Astarion’s head to make sure you hadn’t missed a spot. When you were pleased with your own work, you continued: “This is the first big adventure I’ve ever been on.”

“First brain worm?” Astarion opened one eye and pointed to his temple.

You laughed and nodded. 

He smiled. “Mine, too.”

You filled the bucket with more water and held a hand over his forehead to keep soapy water from splashing into his eyes when you poured the fresh water over his foamy locks. 

Astarion sighed as the soap began to wash away. You filled the bucket again to repeat the process. 

“Did you ever foresee yourself bathing a beautiful vampire, when you were a child?”

You pursed your lips. “I mean, I had my hopes.” You smiled as he let out a laugh. 

“Tonight definitely didn’t go how I expected,” he admitted.

“You didn’t foresee yourself getting bathed by your incredibly interesting leader?”

He let out an amused breath from his nose. “No I did not.”

You finished rinsing out the last of the soap from his hair, but continued raking your fingers through it. “Are you disappointed?” Your voice was small.

He turned to face you, making your hands disconnect from his curls. “Not at all,” he said, sounding genuine. “Pleasantly surprised, actually.” He thought for a moment. “And cleaner than I’ve been in weeks. Probably.”

You laughed. “Happy to have provided my services.”

He smiled at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “This was nice.” He lifted his hand to swipe through his hair. “Let’s hope you didn’t ruin my hair.”

“With soap and water?”

“You might have done it wrong,” he teased.

“How? It’s soap and water!”

“Not so loud,” he chuckled, nodding his head towards camp. You could vaguely hear Gale snoring in the distance. 

“I’m leaving,” you joked, moving to get up, but Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into the water.

“Am I not to return the favor?”

You looked back at him and half smiled, patting his cheek. “I’m not convinced you’d do a thorough enough job.” With that, you pushed away from him and got up, gathering the bathing materials and walking back to shore where towels awaited. 

Astarion sputtered behind you. “How dare you! I could give you a massage, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before!”

“You know, sometimes, Astarion, people do things for other people, and don’t want anything in return.” You threw the towel over your head to start drying your hair before wrapping it around your body. 

Astarion did the same before bending to pick up your discarded clothes. “I- Well… You-” He sighed heavily. “You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?”

“I’m not trying to be,” you shrugged.

“And yet,” he sidled up next to you, offering you his arm, “you are.” 

You took his arm in one hand and the bucket of washing supplies in the other and followed him as he led you back into camp. You placed the materials back where you found them and brought your newly freed hand up to wrap around Astarion’s arm. You leaned your head onto his shoulder. 

When you arrived at your tent, he handed you your clothes. 

“I suppose this is where we end our evening,” he said quietly so as not to wake the others.

“I suppose so,” you agreed, your eyes shining as you looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” you said, still holding his arm. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“I did,” he said. “Very much, actually.” When he saw the excited look on your face, he amended, “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not weird,” you said, weirdly.

“Uh huh,” Astarion said, pulling his arm out of your grip, not unkindly.

“We can do it again,” you bobbed on your feet, “if you want.”

“I… could be persuaded,” he nodded.

“Good,” you said. Then you surged forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. Goodnight Astarion.” You turned and ducked down into your tent.

“Pleasant dreams, darling,” he said softly. 

You didn’t see how his hand lingered on his cheek where your lips had made contact, didn’t see the small smile that crept onto his face or the mask beginning to slip. 

Instead, you had pleasant dreams filled with laughs and curls and a flash of fangs accompanied by a smile of delight. 

[auras-moonstone]

hiii i rlly love ur writing so if u cld write this i’d actually pass out ‼️

u can pick urself if it’ll be jack, Ethan, hockey player Ethan or even smth else! But what im thinking abt is like where he breaks up with reader because hes convinced he lost his feelings towards her but later on realized he didnt?? Hope u have a good day 🙁

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ all you had to do was stay

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.4K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: convinced his feelings are gone, ethan breaks up with y/n. when he wins the championship, he realizes he made a mistake.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: heartbreak. angst. make-up. fluff.

ethan truly thought his feelings for y/n had washed away. but it’s wasn’t until now, looking around the arena for her, having just won the hockey championship, that he realized that maybe he had rushed into conclusions and fucked everything up.

the team went to a bar to celebrate, and while his teammates drank and danced, ethan moped by the bar with a drink in his hand, replaying in his head, like a sad movie scene, the moment he ended things with y/n.

why had he been so stupid? he had set in his mind the idea that hockey should be above everything and anyone else, that it was the only thing that mattered. and not only he had managed to slowly tear the most important bond in his life, but he had also fooled himself into thinking the feelings weren’t there anymore.

“hey, man. i’m going home, tara’s waiting for me. talk to you later?” chad asked.

ethan forced a smile and nodded. “yeah, go. i’m leaving in a few, too.”

chad walked out of the bar, and ethan’s heart reached another level of heaviness. his best friend was going home to celebrate with his girlfriend, he had managed to maintain his relationship while having the exact same responsibilities than ethan. the difference? chad had never failed to find balance and see how important life outside hockey was. ethan hadn’t, and now that hockey was over for a while, he realized he had nothing left.

with an emptiness no amount of drinks could ever fill, he walked back to the dorms, where some people were still on cloud nine from the win. he was congratulated, patted in the back, yet he could not enjoy his win completely. not when the guiltiness and regret lingered heavily over him. was it too late to try get back on track the relationship he had drove off the road?

the celebration was certainly overwhelming for y/n because everything reminded her of ethan and the way he had locked her out when she was letting him in. hell, she was ready to say the l-word when he pushed her aside. the way he had broken her heart was one she remembered all too well, every word, every expression, every little movement.

ethan hovered over her, standing as she sat on the couch. frown on his face, pained expression, as if the act of letting out the words physically hurt him. “i don’t think i- i’m not sure if i… still have feelings for you. i don’t know, i just, it’s not the same as it was a months ago. it’s as if something is missing.”

“did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that you put hockey first?”

“y/n that’s my future. of course i’m going to put hockey first.”

“sorry, let me rephrase that. did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that hockey is all you care about? because it’s always about that. you have stopped having time for me since you became captain. do you even remember the last time you stayed over? that we went on a date? that we spend time together without you worrying over the championship or some other fucking match?”

“y/n…” he sighed.

“well, i can remember. three months, that was the last time you acted like a boyfriend. something was indeed missing in this relationship. you.”

“hockey is everything to me, y/n/n.”

“yes, and that’s the fucking problem, ethan. your whole life can’t revolve sorely on a sport. but you clearly can’t see that, so this is useless.”

that was the last time she spoke to him, but not the last she had seen him. it was impossible not to do that, he was blackmore’s hockey star, he was fucking everywhere. she, on the other hand, managed to hide in the shadows, so she made sure she stayed hidden and not bump into him. until now.

she was leaving tara’s dorm when her eyes caught his wide frame. her feet became one with the floor, not allowing her to move. like magnet, his attention quickly fell on her.

“y/n” her name fell out of his mouth absentmindedly.

at the sound of his rough voice, she snapped out of her daze. her lips parted, but she didn’t know what to say. and then his feet kept going until he was standing right before her. was it too much to ask to disappear?

“hi.” he said after a couple of seconds of silence.

“hi.” her soft voice warmed his heart, and he had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from bringing her into his arms. “um… congratulations. on the win.”

“thanks.” for the first time in the night, he truly felt like smiling.

“shouldn’t you be celebrating?” why was she still talking to him? her brain screamed ‘get out of here’ while her heart told her to stay.

“i wasn’t feeling it.” ethan shrugged.

y/n frowned. “you… weren’t feeling it? ethan, what are you talking about? you’ve worked so hard for this win.”

ethan let out a humourless laugh. “the funny thing is… it wasn’t until i lifted the cup that i realize that i wasn’t happy with the win.”

the girl blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. ethan landry, the boy who lived for hockey, was saying he wasn’t happy with winning a championship. what was wrong with the world? “i don’t understand.”

“what is succeeding if you don’t have anyone to celebrate it with? that trophy was a reminder of what i pushed away in order to get it. it made me feel miserable.”

“ethan…”

his sad gaze found hers. “what i’m trying to say is that i miss you, and that the win means nothing if you’re not with me. i looked around the stands, you weren’t there and it felt like a punch to the gut.”

she was certainly not ready to hear that. “let me remind you it was what you wanted, you ended it, ethan. you put hockey first, and it got us here.” maybe she was being a bit harsh, especially after he was pouring his heart out.

“i know. fuck. don’t i know it.” he was not going to cry. if y/n somehow managed to find it in her to forgive him, it was not going to be out of pity. but he wanted to sob so badly. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i was so fucking blind, and i hurt you.”

hurt was an understatement. ethan had absolutely broke her, and she had been trying to pick up the pieces of the mess he had made.

“i want to punch myself for everything i’ve done. for taking this long to realize i made a huge mistake. i don’t want for my life to revolve around hockey.”

y/n nodded. “that’s a good realization.”

“i don’t know what to say. there’s no justification for what i did, i was stupid and that’s the only truth. i… i want us back.” the anguish was written on his face. “i don’t know what to do to fix it.”

“all you had to do was stay… you had me in the palm of your hand. i would’ve done anything for you.”

“i know, you were too good for me. and i promise you i’ll work everyday to be the person you deserve, if you let me.” he put a strand of hair behind her ear. “i’m never making the same mistake again. i love you. you don’t have to decide now, take as long as you need. i’d wait forever.”

“you know it can’t be like before, right? you can’t keep this relationship in the lowest rank of your priorities.”

“i know, and i won’t. i love hockey, going professional is still my goal but now i know that my dream isn’t only hockey, is having you by my side while i play it.”

y/n slowly broke into a smile. “i would hate to see you succeed without me.” she grimaced as soon as the words clicked. “shit, that sounded so awful. i didn’t mean that i don’t want you to succeed unless you’re with me. that would be so bitchy, and i know you hurt me but i would neve-“

ethan couldn’t help himself, he cut her rambling with a soft kiss. “you’re the absolute cutest. i love it when you ramble.”

“it’s rude to interrupt someone, landry. you need to learn some manners.” she gave him a quick peck. “i guess i’m taking you back, or whatever.”

the hockey player smiled like a little kid and lifted her up on his arms. “i love you. did you know that?”

“i know it now. and i love you, too.” she wrapped her legs around his waist. “now, let’s go celebrate, captain.”

“fuck, yes. i have so many ideas.” the mischievous glint in his deep brown eyes made her stomach swirl.

“i’m down for anything if it’s with you.”

[the-lonelyshepherd]

Had my ninety millionth rewatch of Yellowjackets because I wanted to work on drawing the girls. Been thinking about Jackie's butterfly shirt and how Shauna later on wears it. Not to mention to Shauna wears other butterfly shirts. any thoughts on if the butterfly symbolism was intentional? -💀

HI YES. i had like. so many thoughts on this all at once. i reasearched a lot of butterfly shit for a personal project before and it all just clicked in yj context. a warning that this is going to be rambley its going to be messy and some of it might be a stretch. yippee!

SOO first off its def like. butterflies are a very common just design for shirts in the 90s so its def just like part of the period wardrobe. HOWEVER. jackie and shauna, as far as i know, are the only characters seen wearing butterfly shirts (and i could be wrong but even so theyre the only characters with repeated obvious butterfly shirts including in the adult timeline). which is very interesting.

so heres shaunas butterfly shirt (note the words)

jackie's butterfly shirt and.. shauna wearing it (note the scene)

adult shauna also wears a butterfly shirt im 99% sure it was like black with a white butterfly design. i need to find a pic rgh

SO LETS START

first off - what is butterfly symbolism?

butterfly symbolism is literally anything you want it to be. its such a common symbol if you look it up theres millions of websites on weird slightly not so slightly appropriating spirit bs and a shitton of vague statements. so lets narrow the question.

what is butterfly symbolism in the context of yellowjackets?

much better. my personal view on it is this - butterflies, in a multitude of cultures, are a symbol of hope. theyre pretty theyre flappy theyre whatever. but butterflies are also a symbol of change, of transformation. but what i think is so interesting about butterflies as change is when we look at how butterflies change.

butterfly transformation is inherently something of horror. its a gorey, bloody transformation where the caterpillar literally dissolves in a chamber of its own making and reforms into something completely different. but the thing i find so fascinating is that its not a whole new thing - its literally a restructuring of the caterpillar. its something that was always there.

and this exact thing is imo one of the central themes of yellowjackets - they were always these people. What the wilderness did is amplified it, twisted it, made it louder and more obvious and definitely more bloody. but the violence and the competitiveness and the drama? was always there. look at allie, look at shauna and jeff. what the wilderness did was give them a stage (a chrysalis, if you will) to transform.

What about the specific shirt designs?

Lets start with shauna. Its a basic design with 6 butterflies of various kinds, but the most notable thing for me is the text. "Lueur d'espoir

yeah i used google translate whatever its not like ive been taking french classes for years. or something. let me live.

so. as you can see its "glimmer of hope" which goes hand in hand with the common butterfly symbolism. but actions overpower words because with a lot of shauna's actions, (ie 2.07 massive girl on girl violence) shes pretty much the opposite of hope. shes giving into the brutal violence that the wilderness is bringing out in all of them and hell she even relishes it. its an almost comedic grasp at imitating jackie when really shes the opposite side of the butterfly symbolism coin - transformation. but specifically metamorphasis. this side of her was always there.

now its number time!!

shaunas shirt has 6 butterflies and jackies has 3. jackie is literally half of what makes up shauna - without jackie she loses a significant piece of herself. i might throw up.

after jackies death shauna does everything she can to get her back. not only does she talk to jackies corpse for months, she literally EATS her. but theres also more subtle attempts to get that part of herself back - like wearing her "missing half" - the butterfly shirt. its all in vain really because its with that grasping at anything she has left of jackie and order and everything she used to know, with that shirt, that she commits one of the most brutal acts of violence in the entire show. also shauna wears it while beating up lottie after wilderness baby dies and wb was basically the last living (rip) thing she has of jackie. ough.

back to shaunas original shirt, the one with six butterflies. 6 is a number commonly associated with nurturing energy, and sometimes maternal. sound familiar?

similarly, jackie(shauna)'s 3 butterfly shirt - 3 in general is a very powerful number symbolically. the birth-life-death cycle, the mind-body-soul connection, things coming in threes. jackieshauna and whatever they connect to be that wilderness baby, jeff, callie, the wilderness in general maybe lottie. who knows!! the toxic homoerotic bestfriendship spares no one.

ALSO the butterflies on jackies 3 shirt are monarchs which are commonly associated with the dead and more specifically remembrance of the dead. throws up.

so overall!

the butterfly shirts could very much be just be time period wardrobing but i do think there is at least some significance given jackie and shauna are the only characters (as far as i know) who repeatedly wear butterfly shirts.

butterflies in jackie's context are almost a satire of the hope theyre supposed to represent - jackie has lost all hope by clinging to a past she can never get back to. in most cases she would be a hopeful character - take akilahs clinging to wiskayok, doing SAT prep and talking about her family. but the difference with jackie is that she clings to it as if it were already dead. she has this passive suicidality because she knows that shes never going back to what was and she REFUSES to transform. a catterpillar who doesnt pupate and dies never changing.

butterflies in shauna's context i think point to the gorey, transformative yet revealing nature of the wilderness. similar to metamorphosis, through a complete restrucuring of what was already there in the optimal conditions for change, we see this violent, bloody, version of Shauna emerge in the wilderness. Similarly to the twisting of butterfly metaphors, shauna also represents a twisted kind of hope through her pregancy. Inherently a birth is supposed to be a symbol of new life, of hope and joy. And for a while the baby is a symbol of hope! you have the babyshower raising spirits etc. but everyone knows it was doomed from the start. in the wilderness a birth is not a thing of hope but a thing of horror - its seeing your teammates mouths covered with blood and its burying your son when you too are still a child.

soo yeah. butterflies. dont know how much of this is gonna make sense but it definately made me think about things

[aemiron-main]

~what the hell is going on the night will disappeared? TIME FUCKERY, PERCEPTION FUCKERY, SOME EXTREME STRANGENESS REGARDING JOYCE BYERS AND TERRY IVES THAT IVE NEVER SEEN MENTIONED ANYWHERE BEFORE~ i dont have all the pieces put together yet but there’s too many strange coincidences. ill make a proper document or smthn abt this theory at some point but for rn im just throwing this together

SO. THIS IMAGE. which i’ve made posts about here and here.  Long story short: im basically certain that this netflix still image, which is not from a scene that exists in the show but IS shown on the s1 ep1 pause/idle screen, is from the exact moment that we saw will disappear/the lightbulb get all bright in s1 ep1.  Which means that this is seemingly an image of Will watching himself disappear inside the shed OR watching whatever ACTUALLY happened when the lightbulb started glowing in the shed. 

Now, my focus for this writeup is going to be pointing out the little discrepancies that indicate that we’re not seeing the whole story in s1 ep1 the night will disappears. IMO there’s some pov/memory/unreliable narration fuckery afoot. SO, i wrote about how the door to the shed is completely different when will’s in the shed vs when hoppers in it in this post. Long story short: outside view of door the night will disappears + outside view of door when hopper goes to the shed + inside view of the door when hopper goes in the shed are all the same door. but will’s inside view of the door the night he disappears is a COMPLETELY different door with no spaces in between the planks- it’s not just a different door from hopper, but it’s a different door than the one we see from the outside the night that will disappears, as from the outside view, the gaps are clearly visible, whereas they’re nonexistent from the inside view.

I also want to point out the LAUNDRY. *charlie kelly voice* “can we talk about the laundry? i’ve been dying to talk about the laundry” This post has a more in-depth explanation of what I noticed with the laundry, but long story short: a.) that scene where will seemingly looks out of the living room window and sees the demogorgon was absolutely not physically shot from the living room window. it is not possible with the location of the clothesline. they cannot put a camera outside of the living room window and get that shot. however, it DOES line up EXACTLY with the location of will’s bedroom window. and b.) the clothes on the line the night will disappears vs the clothes on the line the morning immediately after, are completely different clothes. There is very clearly a plaid shirt with some sort of large, thick towel-like item next to it. However, the next morning, the laundry line has a pair of pants and a polka-dot shirt. This could indicate either time fuckery or perception fuckery, as the laundry could be from another day OR just edited entirely if it’s perception fuckery. I’m not sure which it is, but it COULD be time fuckery if we’re seeing will’s pov from a different time/date somehow in that scene?? 

Since that first screenshot labelled “will pov s1 ep1″ could not physically have been shot from the living room window, and instead aligns exactly with will’s bedroom window, it’s also worth noting that the blinds in will’s bedroom are pulled UP the morning after he disappears, and we don’t know if they’d been closed or opened before he got home, but we DO know that joyce or jonathan didn’t open those blinds since they would have noticed that will was missing if they went into his room. So, there’s a solid chance imo that will opened those blinds and was somehow looking through his bedroom window at the demogorgon- which would align with that still image that we see of will looking into a glowing shed, because both of these things point to a different will POV that we haven’t been shown yet/possibly point towards will somehow watching himself the night he disappeared.

  There’s also the phone. Two things about the phone: a.) will leaves it hanging off the hook the night he disappears, and b.) there’s different writing on the phone the night will disappears vs when joyce uses the phone the next morning. Who put the phone back on the hook?? Did joyce and jonathan just come home that night and go “oh, the phone ringing off the hook, that’s completely normal, let me just put that back and not check on will at all or bring it up whatsoever”?? Or, maybe, did something happen and the phone was never actually left off of the hook- was that scene part of an illusion/warped memory? I’m not sure but it’s definitely strange. And speaking of coming home that night: this is mostly speculation, but why didn’t jonathan check to see if will was home? was he just so tired that he went to bed + didn’t think to check if will made it back? did joyce not think to check on will either? did neither of them notice that his bike wasn’t outside? or that his shoes and coat weren’t at the door? Now, regarding part b.) of the phones- the phone in will’s disappearance scene just says AREA CODE 501, which, I made a post about here, and @byler-4-life​ made a post here about how 501 isn’t even the hawkins area code. The phone in joyce’s scene the next morning, and in the scene where joyce gets zapped by the phone for the first time, the phone has another line of writing underneath it, which is NOT present the night that will disappears.

As well, we’ve got the light switch. The light is already on when will seemingly runs into the shed. And it’s also on when we see him disappear/the light bulb gets all bright and then returns to normal. However, the light is then switched off, not just a dead bulb, but switched off, the next morning, when hopper goes into the shed and switches the light on.

NOW: something ELSE i’ve noticed: the fog. not only is there fog the night will disappears, just like how there’s fog in the upside-down, and fog in max’s upside-down billy graveyard vecna vision, but the fog literally seems to follow will. And it seems to emanate from behind the demogorgon, much in the same way that it seems to emanate from behind vecna in max’s  graveyard vision.  And also- WHERE IS THE SHED LIGHT? In the scene where will’s running into the house, we can SEE the shed in the fog: but we CANNOT see any light coming from it. which is extremely odd considering that when will gets to the back of the house, the door is open and the beam of light stretches across the backyard. We should be able to see it in that initial shot, espeically considering that the gaps in the shed walls allow light to seep through, as seen in that first netflix still image in the beginning of this post, but the shed is dark.

Visually, the image of billy/vecna disguised as billy in the fog is very similar to the demogorgon in the fog the night that will disappears. As well, vecna even sounds like billy in that scene- so there’s a chance that he could have disguised himself to look and sound like a demogorgon (like not actually disguised but rather done the same sort of perception warping/vision stuff that he does to max). As well, max runs into the fog in s4 in order to get away, and ends up in vecna’s mindscape. The fog literally seems to act like a barrier in vecna visions, almost like the invisible walls in a videogame. Will, however, does not run into the fog, so unlike max, he doesn’t escape the weird upside-down vision world. And also, note the lack of weird tentacles or typical upside-down stuff in max’s graveyard, despite the fact that it looks like the upside-down. That indicates that there’s a chance that what we see of the byers house on the night that will disappears COULD be a similar sort of upside-down looking vision situation except without the tentacles and other upside-down stuff??? and that will is going both physically and mentally between the real world and the upside-down on the night he disappears, just like he does in s2 with his episodes (he is able to interact physically with BOTH worlds at the same time in his episodes), which could explain why certain actions like leaving the phone off the hook didn’t actually happen in reality, but other ones like slamming open the back door and leaving an indent DID. (basically, the phone was never left off the hook in the real world because that scene happened when he was in the upside-down/vision/whatever, whereas the door slamming was when he came back to reality and then the shed would be when he went back again into upside-down/vision land) Going back to the fog again, it’s also interesting to me that this imagery of billy/vecna in the fog is blue-toned, whereas for will’s it’s warm and yellow-toned. which seems like nothing until we recall that picture of henry with the mindflayer in the yellow section of the upside-down. I wonder, if like how the red area started to peek through the blue for max + how running through that fog lead her to vecna’s mind lair, that if the fog would have lead to the yellow area for will. It’s an interesting lighting choice that i think is worth noting, at least, because aside from that moment, the fog is always lit in cool/blue tones for Will. 

SO: my conclusion? i don’t quite know HOW this all ties together yet, but something’s not right about the night will disappeared. I don’t think what we saw in s1 ep1 was what actually happened, I think it’s possibly what will remembers, but it’s not the entirety of what happened. I think that SOMEHOW, and im not sure HOW, or WHY, but i think that somehow, will was either watching himself go through what we saw in s1 ep that night, AND/OR will was flipping between dimensions/in and out of a vecna vision like he does in s2/when hes in the upside down using his true sight in s1/ AND OR, something else entirely happened in that shed, and will witnessed it (hopper even mentions at the library in s1 that there’s a chance that will ‘saw something he shouldn’t have’ related to hawkins lab + they got rid of him as a result). Hopper’s comment about will witnessing something becomes even more interesting when we consider the following:

a.) the discrepancy between the s1 article vs the s2 article I’ve written about this more in-depth here, but long story short, the article in the police station in season 1 tells a completely different story with a completely different timeline than the article in will’s locker in season 2. In the season 1 article, it says that will was found as a subject of the hawkins lab after a week of searching, having been subjected to mind control experiments/  In the season 2 article, however, it says that will was missing for eight days (”had gone missing two days prior” and “six days later hopper found him in a cabin”, so according to this article, will’s body was found after he was missing for 2 days, and then 6 days after the body was found, hopper found him, making him missing for 8 days), and claims that hopper found will in a cabin and that the coroner misidentified the body.  Strangely enough, the season 1 article makes no mention of will’s fake body/the one that they found in the quarry.  Both articles are written by the same person, with the same headline, and the same photo. They both seem to have been published at the same time (as i don’t think that they’d publish an article about will’s disappearance in s2), and they almost look like the exact same article except with difference content (again, same author same headline same photo), and part of me wonders if this is some sort of vecna perception warping/unreliable narration, because it really does strike me as strange that there was a whole article about will being tortured at the lab, an article that specifically says that joyce claims that will was taken to the lab and tortured, when the whole stipulation of joyce and hopper being allowed to go into the upside-down and rescue will, was that the lab had nothing to do with it. And why would joyce say that will was experimented on at the lab? Because as far as we know/joyce knows, that’s not true- he was stuck in the upside-down, not found in the lab having been part of mind experiments. So if joyce WAS going to break her agreement and expose the lab, then why wouldn’t she just expose the truth? 

As well, when you look at this uncropped image of the s1, article, there’s something VERY strange when you read further down in the second paragraph: “In a statement issued yesterday mornning (can’t see the other half of the word but ‘morning’ is inferred), Ives mentioned her ‘disgust’ towards, (word ‘towards’ isnt visible but we can infer it) the organziation, saying ‘our own american people are being treated like the enemy (again, with ‘enemy,’ we can only see the last two letters so its inferred), we should be directing out ___tion (not sure what word that is) to the real target, the Soviets, not our own daughters and sons” Wait- Ives? Ives who? What first name? It’s never mentioned.Why’d they just mention an “Ives” out of nowhere with no first name and no introduction, as if Ives was who they’d been speaking about the entire time?  “In a statement issued yesterday morning-” Which ives is even capable of issuing a statement in 1983? We know that terry isn’t, because she was tortured by brenner long before 1983. But we also know that Becky is very unlikely to issue a statement either, as she didn’t even believe terry’s story until El came to visit in s2. So that only leaves terry. But this statement was issued “yesterday,” which means that it’s from 1983. With the way that the last name “Ives” is dropped without a firstname, it almost feels like they’re conflating Joyce and Terry- because Joyce is mentioned with her first and last name, and JOYCE is mentioned as being the one who is making the allegations against the lab, so it would make sense for them to refer to her with her last name regarding statements and allegations in the second paragraph, but instead, they just say “Ives,” and don’t say any first name or give any context to Ives. It feels like it’s absolutely out of nowhere, especially considering what I just talked about with how we only know two Ives, and one of them (terry) isnt physically capable of giving a statement, and the other one (becky) doesn’t even believe in the words being stated.  This smells like time fuckery and perception fuckery, ESPECIALLY time fuckery in regards to “Ives” giving a statement “yesterday” in 1983. It’s very, very interesting to me that things are phrased in a way where it seems to conflate joyce and ives, ESPECIALLY since the story that is being credited to “joyce,” about will being the subject of mind control experiments at hawkins lab, is the EXACT story that we find out that Terry was saying about El at the lab, ESPECIALLY since at no point has Joyce ever said that Will was tortured/found at the lab, because as far as we see in the sshow/joyce sees, he WASNT!! And  that line at the bottom, about brenner issuing no comment- as far as anyone knew, brenner was DEAD at the end of s1. Even owens claims to jonathan and nancy in s2 that anyone involved with will’s and barb’s disappearance is dead. So why are articles being published claiming that he’s declined comment??  What the HELL is going on here?? Why is Terry’s story about El being credited to Joyce as being about Will???? This smells like timeline fuckery. 

b.) the fact that will seems to recognize brenner in s4 I know the 8flix scripts were a contentious affair, but i’m personally of the belief that they weren’t entirely fake, even if they were from earlier in production. And in the 8flix script, it’s mentioned that Will recognizes Brenner when he’s dying in s4. And even the script aside, watching that scene, Will’s reaction/expression towards Brenner is definitely different from Mike’s, and Will’s definitely looks like recognition/realization, imo.  c.) the fact that hawkins lab was able to create a perfect replica of will’s body How on earth did they manage to create such an extremely lifelike version of will’s body?? especially with the technology available in the 80s, compared to what we have today, that’s no easy feat. and it’s even harder, if not borderline impossible, if you don’t have the person to use as a reference or tons and tons of detailed images of that person. Will’s missing flyers were all in black and white, and yet they even managed to nail his hair colour and skintone. And even then, doing that sort of intricately detailed and accurate work based on a few photos from a small handful of angles alone?? I don’t buy it.  d.) the fact that the hawkins lab team, including brenner,  immediately went back to the shed when they visited the byers house.  They didn’t even go into the actual house. They immediately went around back to the shed, and YES they had their little machines that they were using to track, so that could totally be a large part of the reason, but it’s still a little odd to me that they basically made a beeline for the AND were geared up for the upside-down before they even got there, meaning that they knew/highly suspected that some upside-down shit had gone down at the byers household. I also wonder if there’s a chance that THIS is when will saw brenner + why he recognized him, since maybe he was in the upside-down version of the shed at the time, and with his true sight shenanigans, was able to see brenner the same way that he could see the alphabet that joyce painted.  long story short: there’s an absolute metric fuckton of discrepancies between the shed and the byers house the night that will disappeared vs the next day, and this isn’t even all of them. and that still image of will looking into the shed at the exact same moment that he would have been disappearing keeps me up at night because WHAT THE FUCK?? there could be time fuckery at play (i’m looking at you, laundry that’s definitely not clothes from the day that will disappeared), there could be memory/perception fuckery at play, there could be both!! and WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON WITH THE JOYCE AND TERRY STUFF?? IM BAFFLED. I’m probably gonna go compare that Will article to the actual articels written about terry’s comments. Much to think about. 

[flying-bear-tv]

Some stuff i noticed in the fionna and cake finale + betty theroy

# 1 Prismo's face glitch

This one is pretty self explanatory. for a frame prismos face glitches for no reason. I cant think of something we have seen that would explain this.

#2 After credits apple

After the credits there is a short animation of two shapes morphing into an apple. I thought this was a logo or something unrelated at first so I reversed image searched the apple but I couldn't find anything. So if its not related to a company it should be related to the show right? The shapes and bow for sure remind me of golbetty and apples have appeared multiple times (mostly use to shrink in size) This probably is important.

#3 Season One

The image on the left is a promotional poster for the show. On the bottom it gives the date episodes will start airing. Notice the lack of "Season One" near the top. The image on the right Is for the show's soundtrack which was released yesterday. All im gonna say is if I were producing a 10 episode miniseries I wouldn't want to specifically label it as season one if there was only one season.. And I definitely wouldn't only put that on promotional materials AFTER the season was done airing. I bet $72 there will be a season 2.

OKEY GUYS IT TIME TO TALK ABOUT BETTY1!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!! :]

Adventure time season 6 episode 43. The Comet. yea im bringing this up.

I saw a post saying this means "comet". It has the same number of characters as the bus sign but I no idea where they found how to read this. I think it makes sense though and I'll tell you why

As Simon is flying away from golbetty he sees her do this .. Notice the color of the light (electricity?? fire?) I also think she changes shape a bit. the image on the left is her when she first electricitys herself and the image one the right is a few seconds later. I'm not gonna draw any conclusions on why this is right now.

Now back to Adventure Time ;]

In The Comet finn witnesses several of his reincarnations. The two shown are a comet and a butterfly.

Now IF the bus is saying golbettys destination is "comet" this HEAVILY implies reincarnation as comets are directly tied to this in adventure time. Also notice how the electricity golbetty is using is THE EXACT SAME FUCKING COLOR AS THE COMET. And what does simon wake up to after seeing golbetty do that.

A FUCKING BUTTERFLY I AM GOING TO LOSE IT. she is kissing him

I think what happened is by Simon and Betty both moving on from their toxic yuri relationship Betty's wish to keep simon safe was realized. Because tbh the thing that was mostly likely to hurt Simon was his own indifference to life and tendency to self sacrifice. I mean, he was completely ready to say goodbye to his sanity multiple times JUST that episode.

This allowed Betty to separate from golb because she no longer needed its power. She gave simon and kiss, and then fucked off to do butterfly shit.

Even if im wrong this show was so beautiful TvT I really needed it. I totally understand if yall are disappointed because simon and betty didn't get a happy ending together but. They really needed to move on. And who knows.. maybe we'll get a season two ;) bye

Oh and the scarab fight scene was way too long and bringing jay and little destiny back was weird and forced.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

god i hope you guys are ready for another crackpot theory, but this is now living rent-free in my head and it's time to pay up:

i'm now fairly convinced that crowley - and possibly aziraphale too - doesn't fully remember the fall.

because im rewatching s1 right? and this is what crowley said about adam and eve being exiled from eden because they ate from the tree of knowledge:

im sorry, but it's an 'overreaction'? that god would oust them from the garden - yes, for doing something she told them not to do - but for doing something, as crowley intimates shortly after, can't be that bad? and suggests deserved leniency, or mercy?

of course it's an overreaction! its completely bonkers! as bonkers as 'asking questions', or '[hanging] around the wrong people'! ie. presumably, if we assume crowley was telling the truth about why he fell*, this would have been his first offence. so why does he clarify that it's an overreaction because it was a first offence? and the offence itself (see next gif), as he suggests, wasn't even that big of an issue anyway?

if crowley truly did fall* for either or both of those above reasons, why on earth would he word it as an 'overreaction', and say it as if he's not sure? surely he'd sound way more bitter about it, as he tends to get later on in s1 and s2...?

if anything, to him, after the fall, it would make complete sense that god would react that way, that it was an overreaction. now, he could just be saying this to gauge aziraphale's reaction, true, but a) the body language and tone doesn't feel like he's testing aziraphale, he genuinely looks a bit clueless, and b) the way he goes on afterwards makes me think he doesn't yet remember the whole of his own experience in the fall.

isn't the whole act of falling meant to mean you are on the opposite side? the opposite of heaven - of Good? it literally posits the idea of there being a Good side and an Evil side, full-stop. crowley knows that there is a difference, and aziraphale too; they literally acknowledge this within their respective lines and being, by definition, a demon and an angel respectively.

so, given they've been through the fall, they'd surely understand the reason why knowledge of that difference is bad, right? they'd know why that knowledge is dangerous - it leads to conflict of literal, psychological, and spiritual proportions... so why don't they seem to acknowledge that understanding in this dialogue? why are they spitballing as to why humans knowing the difference is an issue? they'd surely know that it would - and it does, somewhat - spell for disaster.

it's almost like they've just become into being, an Evil Demon and a Good Angel, as if this is literally their very beginning. without much, if any, backstory to give them both context in this conversation. ie. why is aziraphale only guessing that "it must be bad...", when he's gone through the exact thing that makes him know why it's bad? because in his case, it led to the fall? to conflict? or, does he actually remember, but suspects in this scene that crawly doesn't?

now, im going to parse out some evidence, as i see it, in potential support, and countering, this theory.

they definitely seem to remember being angels, that is beyond dispute (allowing for hazy memory on both their and my parts):

crowley remembers building alpha centauri

crowley remembers (somewhat) discussing creating the concept of gravity

crowley remembers going into battle/war

crowley says "the angel i was is not me"

aziraphale remembers chucking his halo in the war

aziraphale says "you were an angel, once" (which is a little shaky but let's go with it) in s1

aziraphale says "i remember the angel you were"

aziraphale says "like the old times"

other things ive forgotten, no doubt, but you get the point - they must remember being angels at the very least, and also remember the war itself.

but, on crowley's part, we know he's a questionable narrator. to my mind (so this is biased as hell), i genuinely think this is part of his character and narrative makeup.

*im also going to plug an old meta from the pre-s2 golden era (and btw - humble brag - was liked by neil so im taking this to mean it's somewhat approved); his given reason for why he fell and how he fell conflict with each other. i originally sat on the side of crowley lying about why/how he fell, but now im more in the camp of him not fully knowing at all, and without god to give him answers, he's just guessed.

so was the judgement, his last judgement, if we go by this... was erased? well, if you go by my theory on the book of life (which obviously i do)... it kinda adds up. the only thing it contradicts is whether crowley fully remembers being an angel at all which has already been discussed by others, i.e. he does not. ill leave that up for debate.

but that crowley might remember his interaction with lucifer and co., and he had a propensity for asking questions, and assumed it was because of that... that he might remember diving into the sulphur pool (im not accepting "sauntered vaguely downwards", bc he said this in front of aziraphale), and crawling out into hell...

but. the bit in between? his actual judgement and sentence? the gavel on the block? god (literally) only knows.

(and aziraphale? his memory? im not entirely sure... but his perspective on the fall has been largely silent; mainly, i imagine, because he literally didn't go through it, and so has not really had occasion to talk about it. that doesn't support that he doesn't remember... but it doesn't negate it either. the only thing i would say is that, going by the BOL theory, he doesn't appear to have fallen... so if he does or doesn't remember, to my mind, is also still largely up for debate).

[addictedtostorytelling]

Still loving the newest addition to the Happy Accidents series & your last chapter got me thinking about a potential scene I would love to hear from your perspective (or maybe you’ve already written it & I’ve just got to be patient…)

In the last chapter you mentioned Sara’s PTSD & Grissom was so sweet. Particularly this part “She knows why he is worried: Over the years, he has learned to associate nerviness in her with periods when her mental health is poor. She isn’t usually quick to startle, but during the times when her PTSD is bad—around anniversaries—she can be. She gets so in her own head that anything happening outside has the potential to shock.”

It got me thinking about how in this alternate universe, Sara would be about 6-7 months pregnant when the anniversary of her abduction came & I would love to read her thoughts on that & how Grissom helps her deal with it. Does it cause her to reflect on how different her life looks now than a year ago? Does she think about all the reasons she didn’t give up in the desert? Does she feel the baby kick & is brought out of her thoughts, grateful for how her life looks?

And if you’ve already written a scene like this…I’ll sit over here (im)patiently waiting.

hi, @chelsshearman!

good to hear from you again! i'm so glad to know you're enjoying the story so far.

i've taken a while to come up with an answer to your (very thoughtful) question, and though i can't show any prose from that part of the story just yet without revealing some major accidentsverse spoilers, i can offer you a more pared down answer after the "keep reading," if you're interested.

note: in order to avoid major accidentsverse spoilers, i purposefully use ambiguous language surrounding sara's pregnancy in this answer.

__

sara knows from experience: trauma doesn't adhere to a strict calendar.

sometimes exact anniversaries are bad, but other times the days and weeks surrounding are when the cptsd symptoms really hit.

november has historically been a crapshoot for her, any day—not just the exact anniversary of her father's murder—liable to be a bad one, the whole month something of a slog.

though she is hopeful: now that her wedding anniversary falls mid-month, maybe she'll have better associations going forward.

she is well-aware of this temporal idiosyncrasy in her brain, and so is her therapist, which is why he starts counseling with her in mid-april about what to anticipate come may, for what will be the first anniversary of her abduction by natalie davis.

admittedly, she is, at this point, distracted. not only is there a lot going on in her life pregnancy-wise, but things are busier than ever at work. by now, she is no longer in the field and has instead become the de facto "point person" for her teammates at the lab, which, contrary to what she had expected, has somehow upped her caseload. still, she tries her best to complete her therapy assignments with what few spare hours she has. is diligent about going in for sessions. practices all of the self-care techniques her therapist recommends. stays on top of taking her meds. makes sure to look after herself as well as she can.

—and especially because grissom is so obviously worried about her.

not only does he admit as much outright, sans prompting, but he also is so careful with her. he had already been wonderfully attentive, but now she hardly even has to think she might want something before he appears to offer it. she swears to god: the man is telepathic. also, far too sweet.

thankfully, as the calendar turns over into may, there are some fun, new pregnancy developments to help to take her mind off the impending anniversary: grissom is finally able to feel kicking. (for a long time, she had felt fetal movements internally, but they hadn't been detectable in any external way.) also, a first instance of fetal hiccups, which is just about the weirdest, coolest sensation she has ever experienced.

that said, about two weeks before the big anniversary™, she does start experiencing some "trauma residuals" from her abduction. she's not having flashbacks or nightmares or full-on panic attacks, per se; she just feels off. spacey. emotionally unbalanced. like everything in her head has just been shifted two inches to the left of where it should be.

she keeps expecting to have some kind of big breakdown at some point, but the catharsis doesn't ever come.

and, honestly, the lack of punctuation is what bothers her more than anything.

she confides in grissom: she's scared. she tried to get out ahead of her trauma by "doing all the right things," but she is still being affected, not in any obvious, dramatic way but enough so that her trauma is inarguably impacting her behavior. coworkers keep asking her if she’s okay. looking like they don’t fully believe her when she says she is. she can’t help but be concerned: what if the same thing happens a few years on from now? the last thing in the world she would ever want to do to her child(ren) is make them feel like mommy's sad or upset for no reason.

so she and grissom talk the issue through: they both agree that trauma is a fickle thing—particularly as trauma reactions can't always be pinned down to one day or easily predicted in terms of how they'll manifest. show great variance in intensity, duration, form, etc. also can't be totally prevented, even if one tries to account for them as much as possible. chances are, she will be dealing with after effects—from her childhood, from her abduction—for the rest of her life.

sara explains: logically, she knows all of these things. but she still doesn't want their child(ren) to suffer for having a traumatized parent. she has experience that way with her own mother. remembers how helpless she felt when she was little, watching her mother struggle; how much she internalized her mother's sadness and anger. though as an adult, she (mostly) knows better now, back then, she wondered if she caused or exacerbated her mother’s misery and questioned why she wasn't enough to make her mother happier.

here, grissom digs in: "and did your mother ever answer those questions for you?"

her silence tells him no.

grissom offers his postulate: the truth might have helped—not by making sara’s mother “magically better” but by allowing sara, even as a child, to contextualize the situation and understand her mother's mental health conditions existed independent of anything having to do with her. just hearing, in no uncertain terms, that her mother wasn’t sad for any reason having to do with her may have alleviated some of her misplaced guilt.

sara agrees: they should be honest with their child(ren) and explain things at a level they can understand.

but she still worries: it will be a long time yet before they can have those kinds of honest conversations. what will happen in the meanwhile? babies pick up on their caretakers' cues and moods, after all. she doesn’t want to do damage by exuding sadness or fear in their child(ren)’s presence.

grissom reassures her: in all the time they've been together, even during periods when her mental health has been at its poorest ("even in november"), he has always felt loved by and safe with her. he has not been oblivious to her sadness and fear. but he also has never felt that those reactions in her negated her affections. he suspects their child(ren) will feel the same.

still, she makes him promise: if she ever gets to the point where she can't be a good caretaker of their child(ren), he'll intervene. "that was part of the problem," she explains, "with my parents. no matter how miserable things got, no one said anything or did anything about it. no one asked for help. we all just sat there with it."

grissom agrees: they'll ask for help if they need it. offer help when they see it's needed, even if it hasn't been asked for. and neither one of them will give up.

the promise does make sara feel somewhat better.

—though, of course, it doesn’t fully alleviate her cptsd symptoms.

may proves to be a hard month, not only because of the trauma but for other reasons, too.

[insert major accidentsverse spoilers here]

but it also is not without happy moments—sometimes impossibly happy, like the first time they see a footprint, clearly discernible for what it is, show through the skin of her belly—and, most importantly, never without love.

she reflects: one year ago, she was alone in a desert, sure she was going to die. now, she is never alone, and she has never been surer of what she has to live for. lying in bed with grissom, his hand over the footprint protruding slightly below her navel, she feels a kind of peace she could never have imagined she would feel, just one year on from that day. she knows: what happened to her will stay with her for the rest of her life—will sometimes rear up in unaccountable ways—but it won’t be what defines her. won’t be the main throughline in her story. she’s writing that one herself, here, now. and she loves where her story is headed.   

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

[wizard-loving-wizard]

okay so far i really love amnesty and it's so different than i expected. let me dump my thoughts

first off. beforehand, the title "monster of the week" completely misled me because i really thought that meant there would be a new monster every single episode, when really it's just a bunch of mini-arcs exactly like every other taz story lmfao. and now that im in it, im really enjoying the MotW game because it lends itself so well to the narrative and i feels so easy to interpret and understand.

the pcs are fantastic... i adore duck so much, what a guy!! beacon is the coolest 😭 and there's something about the way travis plays aubrey that feels so genuine and lived-in and very endearing. that highly impulsive bisexual 20-something stage magician just leaps off the waveform

ned is fun but i think he's my least favorite clint pc because i often get annoyed by the terrible lies clint comes up with that are so extreme just to be funny it ends up being not funny at all... and so far ned's class has hardly been used at all, his backstory as a criminal serves the story well but it feels like the class itself isn't very useful. though some of his decisions have been very very interesting and compelling to me, like sacrificing his car, and taking the hit to stop the goatmen from escaping. also if he kept his loot from the night he robbed aubrey's house, does that mean he still has the flamebright pendant?!? bitch give it back

but anyways i love the worldbuilding so much and the setting and the town. very cozy fun good vibes

the NPCs. oh my god the Npcs i love them so much. i would die for momma and barclay. minerva has my heart. im so thirsty for more dani scenes. heathcliff is a fantastic char. i've only had indrid for like 3 episodes now but if anything happens to him or he leaves town, i will explode. and billy??? my sweet billy??? i am extremely invested in billy's wellbeing, what a darling.

one random thing. the boys never asked about how the sylfs get their magical disguises. and after they met indrid, they lied to barclay about going to meet him, as if indrid is some secret stranger. none of the boys said anything about how it seems very obvious that indrid is the one who gives all the sylfs at amnesty lodge their disguise accessories so im not sure if they've realized... maybe it's just too obvious to point out lmfao but like why did they lie about where they were going? anyways whatever

i have a lot of thoughts about the story that are kind of jumbled. there's just a LOT going on. it's increasingly sus to me, all of the similarities between the abominations and the sylvan world. somehow the abominations DON'T come from there, even though they have the exact same goat people and the exact same black slime as the corrupt sylvan forest (i can't remember what it's called).

overall, very fun campaign. so many good goofs. im having a great time

[lav3nder-bees]

This may or may not be a hot take but i really dont think that the Dark Urge should ever be free of Bhall, not completely at least

They are his flesh and blood, they’re him entirely, at least before they grew a soul throughout their adventure, so at least to me the ending they got just felt kind of.. cheap? It felt sort of like a “congrats you made the moral decision! Heres your reward <3”

To clarify I like the current story for the Dark Urge, I think Larian did a great job with it, but maybe its just me but i really wish there had been some larger narrative impact for the urge, rather than it just being forgotten almost as soon as it was resolved, personally I can’t see durge being able to just leave theyre god so easily with what was basically a meaningless sacrifice (i mean sure they died but it didn’t really matter because it barely lasted a minute)

Anyway, my suggestion is for this big climax of freeing yourself from the urge to have just a bit more of a sacrifice (similar to how Shadowheart either loses her parents or spends the rest of her life with her wound, or how Astarion can either retain his soul by giving up the powers of the ascendent or he can gain that power but sacrifice who he is in the process), i mean so much of bg3 is sacrificing something for another so i wish that had carried on to durges “final” conflict

Basically i think there are multiple ways this could be done, either by showing us (the player) and the companions what durge could have by submitting to Bhall (especially since in the game it feels like theres a very strong push towards “hey dont pick this option! Its bad!”) and/or there being a larger impact after rejecting Bhall (this doesn’t even have to be in game, just a nod towards affects after the game)

For the first option i was thinking that perhaps durge rejects Bhall at first and then similar to in-game we get a second chance to accept Bhall, but this time he mentions all of the perks from submitting to him (correct me if im wrong but i believe if you submit you effectively become his chosen? There should be some cool ass new powers with that), obviously mentioning the slayer form, but perhaps also stuff such as immortality (specifically being resurrected an hour or so after death, not being unable to die) or other new abilities (if this is too op from a gameplay perspective it could always just be a “do my bidding THEN you get this stuff”) and if durge still rejects bhall then you can get the whole dying and being resurrected scene, just so theres an actually meaningful narrative sacrifice

The second option is the one im most interested in where durge’s link to Bhall is retained even after theyve been freed from his direct control, I find it hard to believe that a literal godspawn could just walk away like that so it wouldve been interesting to see a few moments of perhaps Bhall chasing after durge, maybe influencing their dreams to a minor extent, almost “speaking” to them in that sense or even having lesser instances of the urge where its not as overwhelming but perhaps the barest flicker towards murder, more like intrusive thoughts then anything that actually threatens to take over

Ive also seen an idea of durge having to make a deal with Bhall to be free of him i believe the exact post was durge having to kill every tenday else Bhall takes control back (said by @crossdressingdeath i think?) and i just LOVE this idea, imagine just that constant knowledge that you have to make a sacrifice to avoid becoming a mindless slave, and as mentioned removed that whole moral superiority aspect of durge’s ending

Please feel free to critique or share ideas!!

[theoriginaltortuga]

Thoughts and opinions on Connor and Devon through the it lives series 

warning: long post, very rambly, and spoilers abound

So this might go in headcanon territory but ill try to keep it general for this post

ILITW:

I’ll admit connor was like the fourth LI i romanced after i started playing it lives and even then it was only because i had a specific playthrough i wanted. I don’t know how other people do it, but i changed my MCs personalities and appearances based on what i wanted their ending and final nerve score to be. So Devon Hernandez, my sole survivor, needed to be kind of a prick, or at least have severe foot in mouth syndrome, while maintaining the highest nerve he could and dating Connor was the best for that

But alas I fell hard for this character i previously skipped a lot of dialogue for. Connor is a wannabe bad boy in the best possible way, he’s got the leather jacket, the cool car, and the fighting skills, all while being “forbidden” by being Stacy’s brother. (won’t lie i was expecting a slight conflict from that even if it was just in flavor text, but im not mad that she was cool with it)  

the banter between him and Devon really worked for me, and i loved how even outside of the romance specific scenes there was still acknowledgment of the relationship (whether thats a failing on pb’s part or done because he’s technically on screen less than the others im not sure) 

More on personality, Connor is interested but not pushy, acts like he’s “not too good” while being too good at all times, a caring person and a fun one, an affectionate boyfriend and doesn’t put up with people’s shit. I realized i actually cared about him the second he offered to take Devon to a diner with burgers the size of their face

Main Route (connor and MC live, all their friends are dead) : 

Jumping through time to ilw and him and Devon are horndogs living together in a cabin and scarring their friends with their sex life, which was a direction i wasn’t expecting but one i loved anyway. Again all the small acknowledgements of their relationship killed me and pet names are always a win. Connor evolved from background character and “The Love Interest” to a semi-main badass. 

One thing i loved about it lives within is that all the characters from the previous books felt like themselves in a way that’s hard to explain but basically you just bought that these were the exact same characters and the fact that it was a completely different writer never crossed my mind

There is a kind of maturity in Connor and Devon’s relationship that is nice to see because they have been together 4 years, while still staying true to the versions of them we first met

This route ended with Connor proposing to Devon and getting them their beautiful house with the porch swing and several dog children and I loved the final moments of happiness in their otherwise kind of heartbreaking story

Good Route (connor and MC live, everyone lived):

Basically the same as above, though I will say I love the idea that the whole memorial Stacy knew exactly what was about to go down and I may or may not nudge aside the idea that Devon let their friendships fall to shit and their all like bridesmaids or groomsmen, its not that them falling apart again is unrealistic or bad, it just makes me kind of sad so I ignore it in my own hc

Bad Route (connor and noah live, everyone else died and then so does Connor):

The one i just finished playing and all the interactions between Connor and Redfield!MC were so sweet and i loved them but it always held that kind of bittersweet feeling.

I played with Noah also being into Devon which was also painful, but the line “i suspected for a while now” made me laugh because all i can imagine is an internal montage of Noah being annoyed at Connor and Devon’s affection and constantly looking at Devon with heart eyes and Connor just like “wow i should’ve clocked that like last year” 

i have a lot to say on the Devon being comforted scene that i will save for the hc post but the call back to “too good” was *chefs kiss*

And towards the end realization that Connor was a horror, the accidental hope i gave the crew, and then Connor’s horrific (in the best possible way) death was so wonderfully written. You know when you read something so good that you just have to do a couple laps around the room? That was me. 

Rowan flung Connor into the fucking ceiling and the description of his blood dripping onto them and Devon was just so gnarly. Devon has lost everything, watched most of the people they loved be brutally murdered before their very eyes, and is lashing out while also being sort of aware that its not really Rowans fault which speaks a lot to their character but it hurt so freakin much

and don’t even get me started on the graveyard scene and the parallels with the other Redfield!MC graveyard scene, metal rose and all. I mentioned it before but my Devon in this route is just burnt out on love and friendship and people in a way that i’ll get into more in a hc post but yeah he’s not finding love again and i don’t think he’d ever want to

In conclusion, i love connor and devon together and I thank the og ilitw writers for writing their relationship and the ilw writers for making it even better and tearing my heart apart along with Connor’s and Devon’s in very different ways

[oblivions-dawn]

HELLO!! For the 500 words passage game thingy, I NEED the official directors cut on this scene:

“Aren’t you thirsty, Lady Serana?” Vigdis turned. Every pair of orange eyes stared back at her, perfectly still; a pack of wolves awaiting to descend upon their vulnerable prey. The hunter instinctively moved her freckled hand to reach for her dagger— Her wrist was snatched within a cold, firm grasp. She looked back and found Serana’s persimmon gaze, wide and pleading. Vigdis’ breaths were hard yet steady as she matched the vampire’s silent question with her own bewildered expression. Serana merely tightened her grip in response. There was no other way. “I won’t hurt you.” Vigdis twisted her arm, the inside of her wrist face-up. Serana shifted her grip; her thumb slipped beneath her sleeve and shoved the cuff back to reveal the freckled yet heavily scarred skin that lurked beneath. The vampire’s nail traced the faint blue veins that streaked across the rosy flesh, stiff under her touch. The hunter forced a harsh exhale through her nose as the nail pierced her skin. Blood pooled, then trickled down her arm. Serana held the chalice beneath the wound, and both watched as the ichor dripped into the spiked cup. When Serana’s grip loosened, Vigdis pulled her arm away. Her ice-blue eyes flickered to the vampire’s face, whose gaze was intensely fixed on the chalice. Serana swallowed hard, then lifted the goblet to her lips, and tilted it up. The glow of persimmon veiled in black scleras couldn’t hide the exact moment the red liquid touched her lips. Something unravelled behind those widened eyes; pupils dilated sharply, lost in a hazy fog. Then her eyes darted down, snapped back into focus as dark brows dipped in bitter concentration. She lowered the chalice, not a single stain of blood to be found on her pale lips.

IM OBSESSED W THIS PART OK SLJFLSKD

I PROMPTLY FELL BACK INTO MY CHAIR SQUEALING AND KICKING MY FEET AND DOING AN EXCITED HAND CLAPPING MOTION AND OH MY GOD I DID NOT EXPECT TO GET SLAMMED WITH ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SCENES!!

I think I've said it before, but this scene . . . wasn't planned. It wasn't even formulated until I GOT TO THIS CHAPTER. I had walked into it blind, unsure of what was going to happen and then THIS IDEA. HIT ME. LIKE A TRUCK. [You've been hit by--you've been struck by--TRUCK /ref]

And then . . . I got to writing it. And I remember distinctly struggling with the set up of the scene. I wanted it to be RIGHT, I wanted it to be PERFECT, I wanted this to be as IMMACULATE as it had been in my head. And I was so terrified of fucking it up, of ruining this moment where Vigdis, maybe for the first time, FULLY TRUSTS Serana. I needed this moment, no matter how small, to matter. Especially because this is entirely from Vigdis' point of view--we don't really know what Serana's thinking. We can guess [or I could tell you, but that's no fun], but otherwise we discern most of her thoughts based on what Vigdis perceives.

I really wanted something . . .impactful. Especially if you take this in context with what happens over the next two chapters [21 and 22, which I'm sure a lot of people recall yelling at me over]. Up until this point, things have been moving forward between them, but nothing . . . nothing like THIS. This is a moment where Vigdis is ALLOWING Serana to drink her blood. A vampire hunter! That hates vampires! LETTING A GODDAMN VAMPIRE HAVE HER FUCKING WAY. And, unbeknownst to Vigdis, it is the second time Serana is tasting her blood.

But this time, it is completely willing. And Vigdis is putting all of her trust in this one person. Because she wants to believe there is someone that won't hurt her. That won't disappear. She wants to know what Serana means by those words and if she'll follow through. And by the gods, she fucking does. Also, yes, it's intentionally sensual, too, because it's their real first moment of touching each other in a way that isn't . . . harsh. It's gentle, it's soft, it's. HHHHH. This is. Definitely one of my Top 10 moments with them. I'm just as obsessed about it as you are trust me LKJDFLKGJLKDFJGKLDFJG

Also it was important that Vigdis tried to react first and then was stopped. Again, showing their progress and how much they've both come to trust each other, whether they like it or not, just because they had already been through so fucking MUCH at this point. And this was one of those moments where, for a moment, I wanted it to seem as though they were the only two in the room. I hope I accomplished that, hehe. It was really about their silent conversation, Vigdis' admission, and Serana doing her absolute damnedest to keep her instincts under control. It was a test of extreme trust on both sides and I think they passed.

[masonscig]

heyy, explaining what i said about the N romance, sorry in advance for the long rant:

i played for the first time w my usual detective in a relationship with nate and thought the pacing and timing of everything was pretty weird. i think the 2 main things people were excited for were the love confession and the first intimate scene, and both of them felt very off to me. like, the detective can say they're in love with them very early, during the combat/ressearch scene, and they don't say it back LMAO... and to me that wouldn't necessarily be an issue if the reasons they couldn't say it were explored, but they're not and there's an option to go down on them/have them go down on you immediately after 😀 like right there on the grass! so obviously that's pretty odd and ooc in itself but there's ALSO the date scene in which they bang the detective on the pool table and leave right after bc they got a call from A to join them on patrol?!?!??

they do end up confessing their feelings in the end and it's cute or whatever but everything just feels kinda weightless. N was always constructed as a very intense and romantic character so idk what happened. i think this whole book suffered bc of the insane amount of branching and it's very evident in this romance, the scenes feel really choppy.

i ended up replaying it without being in a relationship and it was sooo much smoother, only having the option to confess in the end after they do makes a lot more sense and those s3x scenes should just have been saved for other books, period. i did really like the other routes, especially A's, but to me this one was a miss. at least the mc can opt out of everything and wait for the next book lmao

HIIII IM GLAD YOU SENT ME THIS <3 sorry i didn't get to it yesterday! and don't apologize for it being long i loved reading it !!!

god i knew that mc could say "i love you" and n could not say it back – and about the pool scene – and the later confession from n – but like. i didn't have a clear picture of the route itself, and it's coming together and ... not looking so good imo LMAO

what's crazy to me, is that mis/hka created SUCH a good opportunity for conflict in the n route, what with mc saying i love you and n not saying it back – as soon as i heard from a friend you could do that, i was FLOORED and i was so sure that n's route was going to be a favorite. and yet, she completely flubbed it by not giving consequences to decisions. i wonder why she gives players the options to do things that should cause conflict if she won't follow through with it?

part of me thinks it's because of the insane branching, like you said, but also i think that as much as she might try to write varying paths for the n romance, it doesn't turn out that way because she favors a certain type of mc and that's evident in every route i think? like of course there's no way to account for every mc out there – it's not on her if our specific oc doesn't quite fit in the story – however, if you're advertising certain aspects of n's romance like their secretiveness, their intenseness, their guilt, their struggle with humanity, etc etc, and how that would alter a romantic route, then you can't expect every player choosing him for that to just. be okay with random i love you confessions and mid sex scenes that are completely out of place both with the plot of b3 and the timeline of mc's relationship with n?

sorry i'm jumping all around the place (im so bad about that with answering asks LMAO) – but you picked the exact right phrasing: it's weightless. it just doesn't feel like the n romance we were promised from book 1, book 2, the asks, patreon, etc. i don't know what went wrong :/

and dude YES, i was so convinced that mis/hka was going to have each ro's first sex scene be in a different book to add more flavor to each route – and i figured this was going to be f's chance to shine LMAO and that she'd save n's scene for the next book! i thought so much of this book was going to be romantic without sex, but... god was i wrong. i honestly would've preferred zero sex on any of the routes because it just doesn't fit (i could've even justified n engaging in sex with the mc to like. distract them from saying "i love you")

sorry for the essay from me KMDFMKDFKM you've given me so much to think about !! ty again for the ask !!! <333

[aemiron-main]

Okay this might be a reach but I've been thinking about you're theory regarding the time weirdness in s2 and how that might relate to birthdaygate. So if we go by the theory, Vecna either made the other characters forget about Will's birthday or at least made them think it was in a different day. And at first people thought it was just a production error and dismissed it but it makes sense in universe that Vecna would use this to further isolate Will.

But Will's birthday/age isn't the only one that's wrong though. Eddie's is also wrong in the missing person's poster put up by his uncle. We know he was meant to have graduated at least 2 years ago from his talk with the hellfire club in ep1. However the poster says he's 17 which wouldn't makes sense at all. And this is a poster made by his uncle so surely he would know Eddie's age?? I thought this another production error too at first but now I'm not so sure given everything.

Idk how this all connects and again it might be a reach, but all of this time fuckery surrounding people that are involved with the UD is, well... strange.

HOLY SHIT OKAY WAIT. YOU ARE ONTO SOMETHING. 

EDDIE’S UNCLE WAYNE IS WEARING BASICALLY AN IDENTICAL OUTFIT TO JONATHAN- like when Jonathan was putting up Will’s poster, he was wearing almost the EXACT same jacket as Wayne was when he was putting up the poster.

I could dismiss eddie’s as a continuity error if a.) they didnt go OUT OF THEIR WAY to make sure that the audience knew how many times eddie failed graduating + therefore his age not being 17 and b.) all of the other subtle time fuckery i’ve been looking at all the sheer attention to detail in this show makes me reluctant to brush anything off as a continuity error. That is SUCH a good point with both will and eddie having birthdays/ages that are wrong. This also prompted me to look at will’s missing poster vs eddie’s missing poster, and then i noticed something. I was looking at eddie’s missing poster + how it’s defaced earlier in the scene + wayne takes down the defaced version.

And that reminded me of the defaced newspaper clipping that Will finds in his locker in s2. So, i went to find that scene, right? Take a close look at the contents of the article and what it says. Now compare that to the contents of the article in the next image, of the newspaper clipping in the police station. 

And then i went and compared it to the same newspaper clipping that we see in the police station (at least im 99% sure it’s the police station) and i realized something: these are two completely different articles- well, actually, it’s the same article, just with totally different content for some reason. I’ve darkened and upped the contrast on the police station clipping so that you can just barely see that the name also says “benjamin buck,” just like the article that Will finds in his locker..

Why the hell are there two completely different stories about what happened to will being published by the SAME PERSON at the same time? Now, the first photo of the zombie boy article is hard to read in my screencap, but i found a clearer one:

NOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE. BECAUSE THESE ARTICLES EACH PUT OUT A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT STORY OF WHAT HAPPENED TO WILL, BOTH WRITTEN BY THE SAME GUY?? according to the one in season 1, Will was the subject of experimenatation at the lab and that’s how they found him. According to the one in season 2, will was found by hoppper out in an abandoned cabin??? hop’s cabin?? i smell timeline fuckery. i’m not saying that either of these things happened to will, because we KNOW what happened with him/his fake death, but it’s absolutely bizarre to me that there’s two completely different, contradictory accounts of it, in an article with the SAME HEADLINE written by the SAME GUY. this smells like the sort of “rewriting history/changing peoples’ perceptions of evenets and dates” that’s tied to birthdaygate. And it gets even weirder- because according to the s1 article, Will was found after a week/7 days- but according to the s2 article, will was found by hopper in six days specifically.  And how does the articles + will’s poster connect to eddie’s poster? the picture used in the articles is not only the SAME photo from his missing poster, but they go out of their way to let us KNOW that it’s the same photo by mentioning it in the newspaper itself, when you read the caption underneath the s2 photo.  It’s also interesting to me that both eddie and will are tied to the word “freak” specifically (eddie’s whole thing and the will-jonathan freak peptalk), and that “when it’s cold i’d like to die” plays when will’s briefly dead in the upside-down when hop and joyce rescue him, and also plays when eddie dies in the upside-down.  IM NOT SURE HOW IT CONNECTS YET EITHER BUT I DEF DONT THINK ITS A REACH. it’s DEFINITELY strange and i’m currently gathering more evidence of time fuckery because im starting to see more and more of it, possibly even dating back to the beginning of season 1. Smthn is wonky here and i’m not sure what but it’s SOMETHING.  Idk what time fuckery is going on or why eddie’s age is wrong but im gonna sit here and think on it 

[glasswinggames]

OHO???? Writing prompts? Then I send one in for my most beloved Jedrek, perhaps the mc is enraptured with how he appears in photos(they.....have some form of camera right? I assumed so with the magitech and what its capable of in this game), even outside of the little reporting work they do, so more often than not they end up staring at him like hes a piece of art- maybe this happens so often the mc spaces out- a vague prompt but I figure u can work more with this since im giving a specific interest for this prompt

Omg I love writing Jed!! 👀 And this prompt!!

Also they do have matech! The exact design of the camera is still being workshopped but I'm kinda imagining it having steampunk type vibes!

Writing below expand more line! Thank you for the prompt! 😘

For extra fun tidbits I was listening to In the Middle of the Night by Elley Duhé when writing this! (That's my go to song for Jed!)

CW: References to blood and m0rder

At first, you'd only kept the photograph to remember his face. So that even when your mind forcefully forgot his name, his gravelly voice, or the feeling of his hands brushing against your throat every time he wanted to remind you what he was capable of, you'd always remember what he looked like. It was never meant to be anything more than that, a preventative measure to protect yourself from the monster of a man who you'd come to… collaborate with. 

Yet, as you stare at the Polaroid like picture, tentatively perched between two fingers, you can't explain the feeling that curses you. For what should horrify you to your core, what in fact already horrifies the nation every time they see one of your articles, instead you find it hauntingly beautiful. The way he postures, ready to pounce on his victim, how the moonlight catches his hair to reflect an opalescent glow, how his pointed teeth bare in his cruel smile… it's artistic in a way.

Though, whether it's your own talent or the subject of your lens that you admire, is not something you find easy to answer. 

Your eyes flit between the photo and the almost perfect recreation of the scene that unfolds before you until the photo is no longer sufficient, your gaze completely entranced by the killer. You barely even notice the prey, their screams just a background noise at this point. You wonder, what scene must Jedrek be showing the helpless victim for his ruby eyes to gleam so brightly, to render him so full of delight that his pale cheeks flush in satisfaction, as his teeth bare, poised and ready to take his prize at the perfect moment.

You know you should take be taking pictures right now, but you can't bring yourself to trigger the camera; you're too lost in the terrifying beauty of it all. 

“Am I boring you, Kitten?” The gravelly breath against your ear breaks you from your daydream, and your senses are overwhelmed by the metallic smell as your space is completely invaded by the subject of your thoughts. Though his crimson stained lips curve into a smile, you can tell, for having been the one to capture his every expression, that he isn't happy.

“I was just distracted, trying to decide the right shot to take for tomorrow's edition.” You know he can hear that slight jump in the pace of your heartbeat when you lie, you know that he is almost breathing in the signs of your attempt at deceit, as is his nature, but you still try regardless. 

“I'm sure I gave you plenty, yet I didn't see you use that device of yours once.” Fingers against your jaw force you to look at him, and your breath can't help but hitch the same way it did when you first met. Every fibre of your being tells you to run, that he's dangerous, yet it's exactly that same part of you that thinks he's dazzling. A long, sharp finger trails down the artery in your throat. “Now, what exactly were you thinking? Oh, and I wouldn't lie to me again. Your heart always gives you away.”

“You're like a piece of art–” your words bubble out before you could even attempt to stop them, and you can't help but curse yourself for it. 

Unexpectedly, instead of teeth ripping through your throat like you'd braced for, it's laughter that tears through the air. 

“Jed?” Your voice ripe with disbelief, you daringly question the man who cackles with pure joy at your answer. 

Before you can react, his arms enclose you against the wall, the stone scratching at any exposed skin on your back, and he gives no opening for escape. His whole body casts yours in shadow, as if he suddenly grows several feet, and the only light that highlights you both is the ravenous glow of hellfire in his eyes. 

“You are such a strange one, I'm starting to think you're not half as afraid of me as you should be. Maybe I should rectify that.” 

“No!” Your voice comes out embarrassingly strangled. You've seen what he's capable of, and you had no desire to be on the receiving end, even if you did seem to have a tendency to enjoy watching the show. “I know exactly how scared I should be.”

“Ah that's the key word, should. You should be scared of me, but instead, I don't think you'd complain if I was to make you scream.” 

“No… that…” Your mind scrambles over the innuendo, trying to figure out whether he actually meant his implication or whether he was teasing you… again.

“Hm, turns out there's more ways other than fear I can use to make your heart race Kitten. How fun.” He seems delighted at the fact; he did always love something new and entertaining. “What else could I do to make it jump for me?” Fingers whisper against your shoulders, down your arms, interlocking with your own… and pinning your hands above your head. His grip is inhumanely strong, and no matter how much or little you struggle, it does nothing but appear to amuse him. “What if I was to do this?” His low voice somehow drops further as he leans in to brush just against the lobe of your ear. “You wouldn't know if I was going to make you relive every nightmare you've ever had,” whilst one hand remains to restrain your own, the other thumb runs against your lower lip. You can taste the iron stain left in his wake. “Or if I was going to kiss you.” He laughs, deep and low, “though who says I can't do both. Pleasure and pain both sound fun, don't they?” 

“Yet you do neither.” You gulp with whatever stupid bravado you decide to muster. Why are you so reckless? Did your sense of self-preservation just decide to go off on a holiday? Or are you just an idiot–

“I don't think you could handle it, and I'd hate for you to break too quickly.” His hand finds purchase over your throat, applying a warning amount of pressure.

“I'm not scared of you, Jedrek.” 

“You should be.” 

[maddsmallow]

hi im gonna complain about people seeing hank and connor as father and son under the break so if you see them like that maybe dont read. like you do you but if this is gonna upset you then. dont fuckin read it lmao

if tumblr puts this in the fucking tags even tho i didnt tag it 1) im sorry, and 2) im gonna be fucking pissed im just trying to vent on my own got dang blog

cropped out the person who made these tags because i dont even know them and also im not a fucking asshole thats gonna put someone on blast like that but. this is the EXACT problem i have with hank and connor as father/son. i dont even mind connor seeing hank as a mentor or something like that (even tho i personally disagree with using the term "father figure"), but it's the "connor is like a new chance for hank to be a dad" that fucking gets me. do you not see all the different CANON reasons why that works completely against hank's character, and takes away connor's say in the whole situation?? hank IS a dad. he's a dad to a dead boy. basically his whole fuckin personality is him mourning over the loss of cole because he loves him SO much. you think he's gonna cling to the first mentee he's had since cole's death and immediately have him replace his dead fucking child? that's like, making hank give into some kind of fucked up delusion. that's mentol illness luv. imagine misunderstanding a character THAT badly.

and that isnt even getting into the whole "you're taking away all of connor's agency as a fully grown adult man" thing. he's not a child. he's an android that was activated only a few months ago, sure, but he was literally created to be like 27-33 or something. he deals with guns. he looks at pole dancers at the eden club. he works with murder scenes. you literally ARE taking away all of his agency as an adult man by seeing him as some little puppyboy that needs a dad to take care of him.

i mean of course you can take these characters and do whatever you want with them outside of canon, they're basically just barbie dolls lmao. but to claim that it's CANON that hank would think of connor as his own literal son, that he thinks that before the game's even over?? absolutely fucking not. those jokes of hank being like "who's my son?" and connor answering "me:)" and hank's relationship bar goes up, it's cute i guess but if that happened in the game? if that was a real choice in the game? hank would've shot connor without a second fucking thought. hell no hank would've thought connor was anything CLOSE to what cole was to him. hank straight up would've murdered the real connor and not even been upset about it when sixty told him so. david cage can eat my entire ass for agreeing that they're father and son, he just said that because he's a homophobic piece of shit, and that's literally the ONLY thing ever to point at them having that sort of relationship.

and i'm not gonna sit here and be like "but anyways here's all the reasons hank and connor are TOTALLY in love" because i dont actually think that's canon either. i'm just playing with them like barbie dolls lmao. my problem is people taking subtext that doesnt fucking exist of them being "like father and son" and claiming it's the be all end all of their whole relationship. their view of them as father and son is the ONLY way to see them. which is just not fucking true. there's NOTHING in canon to support them as being anything but close friends or enemies. that's it. and then they come onto these posts about hankcon, which obviously have NOTHING to do with them since they dont ship it, and tell the OP who ships them "fuck you." like?? you could have just scrolled. you could have just kept fucking scrolling. you fool. you moron. what happened to ship and let ship. just fucking move on, jesus christ. stop taking the time and effort out of your day to go out of your way to 1) make yourself upset by seeing this content and not just blacklisting it and blocking the posters, and 2) making someone else upset that you took the time to be a shithead on something that obviously wasn't even meant for you but made THEM happy. just stop !!! log off!! touch grass!! and this goes for hankcon shippers who do the same!! what the fuck is wrong with you!! we're all just here to vibe and love on these dork ass characters!!!!! fuck !!!!!!!!!!!

also it's super cringe when bryan dechart is playing the game and you're all screaming "wow best father son duo everrrrr" in the chat as if that also doesnt make bryan uncomfortable because he's gotta be super fucking careful about how he fuckin speaks about his character to everyone and not piss off all the rabid father-sonners by insinuating they're only friends. just. shut the fuck up. hankcon shippers who try to shove it in other people's faces also need to shut the fuck up. jesus fucking christ

IN OTHER WORDS. old man yells at cloud is basically me rn

^actual pic of me

anyways here's a cookie 🍪

[wizisbored]

🤔👖 (fanfic ask game!)

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

writing fics that are specifically meant to be funny as the primary goal is hard. like parent-creature conferences, or my old tgwdlm fic teachers pet. hard to know if things are as funny as i think i am

more generally to my writing, though, sometimes characterisations can be a little hard to keep straight. its not something id say i really struggle with, but its a thing. beetlejuice in particular, i feel the general fandom portrayal is a bit off from the source so i gotta run through scenes from the show in my head to kinda double-check him sometimes. especially when im twisting him to be a nicer (bugebroph) or meaner (snake oil). and in a similar vein to that, it can be interesting trying to balance characterisation in aus where ive changed a character's (usually lydia's) upbringing (bugebroph, netherborne, dragon au, etc). because obviously they're going to be different because of that, but you gotta keep them them. bug is more of a brat, netherborne lydia was taught not to trust and is deeply traumatised, dragon lydia is kinda naieve, but theyre all still lydia. hopefully.

also im not great at describing settings. does not help that i like cluttered rooms and the maximalist aesthetic, so if i design a place theres gonna be a lot of stuff to describe but also i have to avoid making it into a page of just stuff that is in a room. netherborne is currently being held up by such a dilema.

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

eh its kinda somewhere in the middle? a couple times ive written the first chapter or so completely off the top of my head with maybe a couple notes and then properly outline the rest (netherborne was like that, ive started infernal children without outlining.) general mo tho is i start with one of these:

(thats netherborne, you can see it starts at 4 because i didnt plan up to 3. green boxes are unique to this one, theyre the flashback sections)

every idea i have goes in a box. sometimes its a major plot point, sometimes its just a little dialogue idea. if i know it comes before/after/around the same time as something else i join them up. and then i arrange them into chapters, alternating colours to distinguish them. sometimes i plan a few ahead, sometimes i finish a chapter and then open this to see what the hell i can put into the next one. so like, i know roughly where the plot is going and things that are going to happen, but not really when or in what order most of the time.

(here have another one. thats snakeoil. sure hope these are small enough to be illegible)

from there i write an outline in bullet points. these used to be far more loose but ive been writing more and more detailed ones lately. sometimes they approach being their own rough draft tbh. but i find it really makes writing easier to get down roughly what happens before i think about anything like scene transitions or exact wording or anything.

(thats some bugebroph)

sometimes i note down my ideas in this format too if ive got a really clear idea i dont want to forget and thats a bit long for a box

and then from there its first draft, edit, proof read, and done :)