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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

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NOT FOR HIM — BENEDICT BRIDGERTON

masterlist

pairing: benedict bridgerton x reader [plus platonic anthony x reader where he’s being a matchmaker/shitstirrer]

description: you may not have been the season’s diamond, but your debut had caused quite the stir in many a man’s heart — your childhood best friend benedict bridgerton included. however, given that the viscount had decided that he would marry this season, benedict cannot see why you would choose him over his brother.

warnings: kinda tiny bit of angst (if you squint) into tooth-rotting fluff !!! tiny bit of suggestive benedict at the very end but it’s not much !

author’s note: this is basically like a reverse to the anthony one i wrote because i have a big ol’ soft spot for benedict too after my latest rewatch. enjoy !!! [edited, but not thoroughly — will be returning to do so asap]

“You look astonishing, Y/N,” Benedict’s eyes were wide when he saw you, “Absolutely astonishing.”

You blushed crimson under the intensity of his gaze, “You don’t look too bad yourself this evening, Lord Bridgerton.”

You never called him that — you’d known him far too long to consistently comply with formalities — but considering that it was one of your very first balls of your very first season, you had to be the picture of manners.

“It is so strange to hear you call me Lord Bridgerton,” Benedict screwed his face up, “Even if it does give me some small hope that you might consider me too as one of your many suitors.”

You shook your head gently with a laugh, “Oh, Benedict, as if you would wish to court me.”

Before he had a chance to retaliate with stern disagreement at your idea that it was such a preposterous notion, your eyes snapped up to see his brother entering the ballroom.

“Ah,” you grinned, noticing that he had spotted you both immediately and was on his way over to you, “It appears your brother has finally arrived!”

You didn’t look at Benedict for long enough to see the frown on his face at your apparent excitement.

For years, everyone around you had speculated about the closeness of your relationship with Benedict.

Granted, you were close with the whole family, but the tenderness with which Benedict treated you had always teetered on blatant romance even if neither of you had seen it before.

Of course he was aware of it now — he’d realised he was in love with you long ago as silly young teenagers, and now that you were finally out in society (emphasis on finally, as you had delayed doing so as much as possible) he had hoped to make that clear.

But of course your eyes were fixed on his brother, the Viscount, who had finally decided he wished to marry and therefore seemingly snatched all of your attention away from him.

“Good evening, my lord,” you curtsied, and Anthony laughed, “Such formality! How are you enjoying your first ball, Y/N? I trust my brother has not let you leave his side?”

You giggled, and as much as Benedict adored the sound of your laughter he couldn’t help the clenching of his jaw at his brother’s remark and your evident amusement.

“He has taken great care of me, undoubtedly,” you smiled, hands resting on Benedict’s upper arm for a moment as you leaned into him, “How do you feel about your first ball on the hunt for a wife?”

Anthony scoffed, “Consumed with dread, as expected,” he joked, “Brother, would you mind if I stole Y/N away for one dance? Only so that I might enjoy one last moment of vague freedom before I endure the onslaught of mamas I see staring me down?”

Benedict swallowed thickly, because yes he very much did mind you being stolen away to dance with a man who could provide for you so much better than he could.

He had always been second best to his brother, but never with you.

And now he felt rather ridiculous as he nodded meekly and watched you saunter away at the side of his own brother, who would never love you like he did nor treat you as more than a friend and a commodity necessary to the life of an important man.

“Of course.”

You smiled shyly over at Benedict as you followed Anthony away, and made a mental note to confront him about the sad look gracing his features as you did so.

“My brother is staring daggers into my skull already,” Anthony chuckled as you took your positions to dance, “I rather wonder why he was not dancing with you if he is so bothered by my doing so.”

You bit your lip, “We have danced together twice already, Anthony. In fact, I’ve danced only with him so far tonight. I feel… safe with Benedict. This is all so terrifying.”

As Anthony beamed down at you knowingly, you realised quite what he had initially said, “Whatever do you mean by him staring daggers? Why would he be doing that?”

“Oh, my dear Y/N, you must see that my poor fool of a brother is overcome with jealousy at our interaction,” he laughed as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Particularly now that I plan to marry. He quite clearly thinks that it is you I wish to do so with.”

You looked down at your feet for a moment, suddenly feeling shy.

When you remembered that you were talking to a man you knew like he was part of your own family, however, your head snapped back up — a smirk gracing your face.

“Oh, am I not to become Viscountess? I so had my hopes up!” you feigned a gasp, “In all seriousness, Anthony, why on earth would Benedict think we might marry and more so why on earth would he care so much?”

Anthony heaved out a deep sigh at that as you danced, almost irritated by your blatant ignorance to what was so clear.

“I don’t believe I should tell you the answer to that if you are somehow quite unaware of it yourself,” he shook his head, briefly meeting the eyes of his brother as he spun you, and smiled almost teasingly at him, “I hope that after stealing you from him for this dance he might finally discuss it with you himself.”

You rolled your eyes, “You jest, Anthony, because if you are trying to imply that he has affections towards me I’m sure you are sorely mistaken.”

Anthony stopped abruptly, quirking his eyebrow at you, “You truly are oblivious?”

You looked at him curiously, doe eyed and inquisitive as you waited for him to continue — or to resume dancing so you didn’t continue to feel all eyes on your frozen frames.

“Right, very well. I am going to walk away now, all smiles,” he informed you, plastering a smile on his face and nodding at the onlookers as he kissed the back of your hand to show no ill-will had halted your dance, “I would suggest that you get some fresh air, perhaps? My brother might… Come to check on you.”

You forced a smile as he silently moved away from you and towards the buffet table at the other side of the hall.

With a sharp breath you took his advice, despite your confusion, and lifted your skirt a little to busy your hands as you traipsed out of the ballroom and onto the balcony.

Like clockwork, Benedict Bridgerton found himself at your side in mere moments.

“Are you waiting here for my brother?”

The tension in the air was palpable, his voice low as he failed to hide the disappointment at his suspicions.

“Not for him, no.”

“Then for another?”

“I suppose so.”

“Apologies, then. I’ll leave you to it.”

You spun on your heel now as he turned to leave, touching his shoulder, “No, Benedict, I was waiting— for you.”

“For me?”

The incredulous smile on his face made your heart swell with hope — perhaps Anthony was right.

Maybe what you had spent all these years perceiving as friendship truly was reciprocated love all this time.

“Anthony claimed he believed you jealous, and that you thought we were attached,” you giggled, and he swore his heart melted at the sound of your gentle laughter, “And I was utterly unsure as to why you would believe that, let alone be jealous of it. But then he told me to get some fresh air and that you might find me here and I became hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Yes. Hopeful that perhaps the feelings that have steadily grown on my part throughout the time I have known you might be returned. That perhaps you were not joking when you said you hoped I might consider you a suitor this season,” you blushed crimson as you served him your honest feelings on a silver platter.

He cocked his head to the side curiously, not quite believing you entirely though you were evidently being sincere, “Do you not wish to marry my brother?”

You scoffed, quickly covering your mouth with your hand at the outburst, but then sighed as you looked deeply into his eyes, “Of course not, Benedict.”

“But he is a Viscount — he could offer you so much more than I, and he seemed taken with you.”

“He was taken with making you jealous enough to confront me, my dear Benedict. He spent our dance essentially telling me to wise up and talk to you,” you bit your lip nervously, “Because he knows that I have long loved you, and believes that you feel the same.”

The curious smile on his face grew now into a beaming grin, his hands flying to take yours within them and bring them to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“I—, Y/N, I cannot— I cannot even begin to express the joy that those words have brought me,” the words tumbled from his lips like he couldn’t think fast enough to convey his feelings, “I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I settled for cherishing mere friendship because I feared I would not be… I would not be the man for you beyond that.”

You shook your head, “Benedict, surely you know how dear you are to me? I— at the very least in my heart, you are the man for me. I’ve been certain of it for so long and that is why I feared entering society so much. I didn’t want to marry for the sake of marriage and have to have the man I truly love as a mere friend. You are more than enough for me, Benedict, I feel safe with you — you are home to me.”

“And you are home to me, Y/N,” he was trying so very hard not to kiss you, his words soft and delicate as his breath fanned over your face due to your newfound close proximity, “If you would allow me to… I would like to court you. In fact, I would propose to you now if I was to allow my selfishness to take control. But I want you to be sure it is me you want, even if it hurts to see you dance and converse with others.”

“You’re all I could ever want, Benedict,” you spoke like it was utterly obvious, “And when you do propose, you can be certain of my acceptance. For now I am happy to share every dance with you and pretend we need to get to know each other to form an engagement. We have all of the time in the world.”

“We do.”

You were both breathing heavily, eyes glossy with the sheer emotion of the confessions you had just shared.

“I wish so badly that I could kiss you right now, but I fear I may not be able to control myself in future once I do,” his voice was barely above a whisper as you licked your lips, swallowing thickly.

“I wish— I wish you might kiss me too,” your reply was hardly even coherent, too love drunk to properly formulate your words, “More than anything.”

He was still holding onto your hands, and so he brought them up to ghost another kiss over them again, settling for this as he fought his urge to press his lips to yours instead.

“As you said, my love, we have all the time in the world,” there was a subtle undertone of what you might describe as lust in his tone now, intertwined with the love struck lilt he had been speaking with.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his lips ghosted up your forearm briefly before he brought them back down to your hands.

“And I cannot wait.”

———

horny benedict at the end to satiate my own need for that despite the intention for this to just be fluffy hahaha. hope you enjoyed !!!

feel free to keep requesting — and in the mean time here is my masterlist.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton one shot #bridgerton one shot

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in1-nutshell · 10 months

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How would the tfp autobots and decepticons react to the toy furby

Ooohhh! I remember furby's, granted they were a bit creepy in my opinion. These are a bit shorter than what I usually write, I was trying to get most of the characters in. Let me know if these needed more writing in them.

Hope you enjoy everyone's reactions to the furby's

Autobots and Decepticons reaction to seeing a furby

SFW, mentions of blasters

TFP

How did this all happen? One word to simplify everything: Miko. She thought it would be funny to start leaving these little menaces around the base and to get the bots reaction to it. How did she acquire these furbies, don’t ask any questions. Jack tried to stop her, but she successfully bribed him by promising to send him the video of Arcee’s reaction. Raf promised to edit the videos to be at their finest. Operation: Furby reaction is a go.

Autobots

Optimus Prime

He notices the first furby as it sits innocently near one of the control panels. At first, he thinks that one of those ‘birds’ had entered the base and tried to move the thing.

“Hello little one. How did you get in here?”--Optimus

“SSSQQQQUAAAAKKKK!”--Furby

“I see… Ratchet did you let the creature inside the base?”--Optimus

“Did I do what now?”--Ratchet

Then it suddenly started moving and squawking its native tongue that may or may not have startled the Prime a bit.

He doesn’t mind the furby too much… but does sense something about it.

Ratchet

He notices when he sees Prime slightly startled by something.

He goes to investigate and nearly squashes the Furby thinking it was a scraplet.

“Ratchet! Do not harm the creature!”--Optimus

“Optimus with all due respect, that thing is definitely some sort of scraplet! It might be a different type of mutation but look at it!”--Ratchet

“Ratchet—”--Optimus

“It even looks evil Optimus! I’m getting my wrenches.”--Ratchet

“Ratchet!”—Optimus

He does not care about Optimus’s code on not killing living being. That thing looked at him weird and he is going to end it before it eventually causes trouble.

Bumblebee

Nearly has a whiplash when he sees the little thing. He also thinks it’s a scraplet at first, but slightly calms down recognizing it as one of those human toys he saw on commercial with Raf.

Everything is fine… until it started screeching and moving by itself.

“SSSSSSSCCCCCRRRREEEEAAACCCHHHH!”--Furby

“BBBBBBBEEEEEEEPPPPPPP! (AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!)—Bumblebee

Does not like furby’s at all. Claims that they were trying to speak to him.

Arcee

Her encounter with the Furby is short.

Mainly because she saw something move out of the corner of her optic and blasted the poor thing to bits.

“Huh? What on Cybertron—”--Arcee

“SCCCCRREEECCH—”—Furby remains

Blaster firing intensifies.

She doesn’t know what that thing was, but it started it.

Bulkhead

He is running to see where Bumblebee is after hearing him screaming. He has his wrecking ball at the ready and ready to comm in back up if necessary.

“BBBBBBBEEEEEEPPPPPP! (AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!)--Bumblebee

“What is it!?”--Bulkhead

“BBBEEEPP BEP BEEEEPPP (THAT THING RIGHT THERE!)--Bumblebee

“SCCRRREEEAAACCHHH!”--Furby

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET!!!”—Bulkhead

Absolutely loathe those things. It reminds him too much of the scraplet incident that happened. He would be swinging his wrecking ball if it hadn’t gotten stuck in the wall.

Wheeljack

He is running as soon as he hears Bulkhead and Bumblebee screaming. His katanas are out as is ready for some slicing and dicing.

“BEEEEEPP BEEEEPPPP! (PRIMUS ITS MOVING CLOSER!)--Bumblebee

“SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET!”--Bulkhead

“Where’s the danger!?”--Wheeljack

“BEEPPP! (ITS MOVING!)--Bumblebee

“SCRREEEECCCHH—”--Furby

“There, its sliced in half. Huh. You two where afraid of this little cute—”--Wheeljack

“SSSSSCCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHH!”--- The two remains of the Furby

Blaster firing and wrecking ball smashing intensifies.

Isn’t a huge fan of the little things. It’s a bit cute in a creepy way. Does remind him of scraplets if they had gotten some mold and gained some sort of upper-level sentience.

Smokescreen

Like Arcee, his encounter with the Furby is short.

He accidentally stepped on one effectively crushing it.

“SCCRRE—Crunch!”—Furby

“Hmm? Hmm.” –Smokescreen

He is completely oblivious to the tomfoolery that is happening all over the base. He is too busy with looking at the latest relic they managed to find.

Ultra Magnus

He finds a Furby near his work area. He tries to speak to the Furby as he would to anyone else.

“Excuse me but you are in classified—”—Ultra Magnus

“SSSSCCCRRREEEEEAAAACCHHHH!”--Furby

“That was unnecessary and—”—Ultra Magnus

“SSSSSCCCCRRREEEEAAACCHHH!”--Furby

“Listen to—”—Ultra Magnus

“Ultra Magnus move!”--Ratchet

Furby is hit with 10 wretches in one go.

He doesn’t mind furby’s like Optimus. Mainly because he was trying to communicate with it and never got to finish his sentences with it.

Decpticons

No one knows how it was done, but the impossible was made possible. After Miko finished getting all the Bots’ reaction to the furbies she decided to do something else. Somehow, she managed to scatter the remaining furbies on board the Nemesis. How did she do this. Not even Miko quite knows how she did it.

Megatron

He finds the Furby on his throne. He doesn’t know what this thing is, but it is on his throne, and no one sits on his throne except him.

“You! How dare you sit upon my throne!”--Megatron

“SSSSCCCRRREEEAAACCCH!”—Furby

Blaster firing intensifies.

The furby would be gone whether he is on Dark Energon or not. Will not admit it but the furby noise sent a little shiver down his struts. Good thing no one saw that.

Starscream

He finds the furby in his habsuite. He is curious in how this weird looking organic thing managed to find his room. He takes the furby to the interrogation room.

“Who are you? Speak worthless organic!”--Starscream

“SSSCCCRRREEEEAAACCCCHHH!”--Furby

“How dare you! I am Starscream, Second in Command of the Decepticon Army! You will—”--Starscream

“SSSSSCCCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHHHH!”--Furby

“Two can play it that game!”--Starscream

“SSSSCCCCCRRRREEEAAAACCCHHH!”--Starscream

“SSSSCCCCRRRREEAAAACCCHH!”—Furby

He ends up staying in the room with the furby for a while. Takes the furby to his room and plays on doing a hostage exchange if it is needed.

Soundwave

Finds the furby on his desk. Lazerbeak deploys and flies around the small thing. Steps a bit closer to getting a good look at it.

“…”--Soundwave

“SSSSSCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHHHH!”—Furby

He immediately groundbridges the furby outside the Nemesis to have it fall and burn on reentry. He does however keep the screeching noise recorded and will use it if necessary… or if he is bored.

Knockout and Breakdown

The pair enters the medbay and finds the furby on the medslab.

Breakdown looks at it and thinks it’s kind of cute. Knockout on the other hand.

“OH, PRIMUS KILL IT!”--Knockout

“Knockout?!”--Breakdown

“THAT IS UNICRON’S SPAWN! KILL IT! BURN IT!”--Knockout

Breakdown smashes the furby to oblivion. Did he regret it? No, it was causing Knockout stress, and he was happy to get rid of it for him. Knockout knows the furby’s horrors, he knows…

Dreadwing

His time with the furby is short. He accidentally stepped on it as he was trying to get some creates to his habsuite.

“SSSCCRR—Crush!”--Furby

“What in the All Spark? Hmm…”--Dreadwing

He does wonder what the weird noise was, but he has other things to worry about, so he quickly forgets about the encounter.

Shockwave

He doesn’t know they exist. There were no furbies in the lab or in his habsuite. The two places he really goes to. He does hear from the others about the furbies though.

“They sound illogical.”--Shockwave

“You’re illogical!”—Starscream

He doesn’t care about the furbies, he has science experiments and war crimes to commit.

Predaking

He finds one near his kennel and does not like it. Sure, the Nemesis isn’t the greatest place, but that spot is his!

“You! Vermin! Who are you!”--Predaking

“SSSCCCRRREEE—”—Furby

Fire breathing intensifies.

Does not like the noises and is quick to end the furby.

Arachnid

She finds one randomly walking in the halls screaming. She just stabs it and puts it on her trophy case. She doesn’t have time for anything else. She has Arcee and Megatron to kill.

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misscammiedawn · 4 months

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Gender, Dissociation and Clinical Stigma - The Third Person

Before I begin I just want to note that typically Media, Myself and I entries are aimed at depictions of dissociative disorders in popular fiction. Today's entry is a graphic novel memoir by a transgender woman with dissociative identity disorder. As it's both not in the public zeitgeist and good representation by virtue of being lived experience of someone who struggled within the mental healthcare system I want to recommend people buy the book (or check it out of their local library). I fully support the artist and want to prop up something good and beautiful.

With that said, let's begin...

CW: therapy abuse

With all the recent hysteria in the US and UK media over transgender healthcare it can be easy to forget the hurdles we all have to climb to receive care. Though Informed Consent is becoming more of a standard practice these days the DSM-5 Criteria for Gender Dysphoria indicates a 6 month requirement for observation before HRT can be prescribed. Many of us needed to jump the hoops of living 6-12 months "in the gender role that is congruent with their gender identity" before we were allowed to begin our gender journey in earnest.

Of course. This requires a clinician (or two for surgical options) to observe this, monitor it and sign off on it. But therapists are humans and are full of prejudice, bias and their own beliefs. They aren't guaranteed to think it is medically necessary or positive for a person seeking gender affirming care to receive it.

So where does DID fit into this picture?

A study, published in 2015, states clearly that 30% of transgender individuals met the criteria for a dissociative disorder.

Yet even still, The World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), the gold standard for transgender care included this warning in their Standards of Care up until September 2022.

(source)

Fortunately that passage is no longer included in WPATH guidelines as of the 8th revision released in 2022. I shall say the above passage did grant a scare for us, though, as it was very much the practice when we were going for our surgery.

Standards of Care improve and medical understandings of both gender and dissociative care are becoming kinder towards clients.

Even still. There's always that fear. That months of therapy could be wasted on a clinician who was never going to sign off on HRT and was never going to believe our lived experience as a system.

We wouldn't have gotten nearly half as far as we have gotten without our therapist helping us identify our condition, manage our symptoms and develop cooperation and communication.

It's terrifying to think what life would be like if our symptoms not only went unmanaged, but we were made to feel fake and attention seeking by the very person we paid to take care of us...

With that intro in mind, The Third Person by Emma Grove is a memoir told in graphic novel format over 920 pages covering the period of life where she began therapy in hopes of receiving feminizing HRT not realizing she had an undiagnosed case of dissociative identity disorder.

When one opens the book they will see an Author's Note declaring that every word in the book is as accurate as Emma's memory will allow and any edits are to streamline the story, not to tailor anything to match the author's point of view and there is a dedication:

"For Katina - We finally did one together"

The story proper begins in media res Winter 2004, as Emma asks her therapist if he would like to hear about the book she was reading and the therapist responds asking why the client decided to speak with him "as Emma" today. Emma, confused, does not understand the question and is probed about her parts, about Ed and Katina and about her childhood. That last word being enough to cause Emma to freeze up, dissociate and...

This simple intro gives us all the context a reader needs to understand the antagonistic dynamic between Toby, the therapist, and his patient(s). Both client and patient are unable to understand the other and harbor suspicions about the other's intentions.

Without the context we only know Emma had a book, she no longer has a book and she suspects her therapist of being a mean person who is playing tricks on her.

We will get context later.

The first chapter of the book provides an introduction to the author's late teens and early 20s where they explore their gender identity and have their first experiences with their masked dissociative disorder.

The book goes to lengths to show the stress of the author dividing themselves between having to present male in their public life and sneaking out to bars where they can wear make-up, wigs and outfits to present female.

They take on their legal name, Ed, during their public life and when going out to clubs take the name Katina, from the first bar they visited presenting femme. The name Emma comes later when the system is working to transition into living as a woman in all aspects of their shared life.

The book patiently explores the stress of having to divide ones own self for their safety in spaces where they cannot present their truth without threat from an intolerant society. If 30% of transgender people suffer from dissociative disorders then a much higher number of them know the stress of having to compartmentalize themselves into different presentations for different audiences.

For us, we know that pain all too well. Our birth identity remains with us as a member of our own system. Less a ghost of our past and more a remnant of a mask we constructed to perform the version of self required for our safety.

The artwork does a good job of displaying switches and co-consciousness with subtle expression work, the hair style/wigs that each alter favors. For example we have the left displaying co-consciousness and a switch.

As the years go on, Katina finds ways to go out to the club and exist in her comfort and Ed labors hard to ensure that they can live for the times they get to "become" themselves.

Katina is established to be a fierce personality who will get aggressive when people push against her. She loves to dance and sing and party at the club. She is both a free spirit without inhibition and a fierce protector who will keep the system safe.

I recall feeling a deep fondness and connection towards Katina when we first read the book.

Once the narrative has firmly established the history that lead to the system seeking HRT we are brought into the meat of the book. A white void with a sofa and an armchair. The therapist's office where Katina, Emma and Ed speak with Toby.

Toby is a trans man that Katina believes to be an ally who will sign off on their HRT once the prerequisite 3 month waiting period is over. Unfortunately over the course of those months Toby becomes aware of Emma and Katina's switches and is convinced that it would be unethical for him to sign off on HRT when it is possible that there may be another 'guy part' in there who will 'wake up' one day and decide that he did not want to transition.

To his credit, once Toby suspects a dissociative disorder he does offer Emma a referral to a specialist. They do not take it as they just want to be signed off for HRT and have no interest in exploring their situation beyond transitioning. So they stick with Toby, convinced that another transgender individual will support them.

Toby, however, sticks to his guns and refuses to agree until they manage the DID.

In the opening, sampled above, Emma switches out at the mere mention of her childhood. Here we find that Katina will front any time Emma is made to think about her past and she refuses to allow Toby to force her to think about it or discuss it. She goes as far as to demand Toby promise not to push which, again, Toby refuses.

During this conflict both sides have exaggerated gestures of frustration, many exclamation points and underlined words. This is not a healthy dialogue at all. Toby is refusing to find middle ground or guide the therapy towards its intended destination. He denies all Katina's attempts to negotiate around the need to talk about her childhood (something she is convinced at this point has nothing to do with her stated goal of HRT) and continuously pushes that she needs to talk about it, without elaborating as to why.

Toby, untrained in dissociative disorders, is focused on getting her to open up about her childhood trauma. Katina, uninterested in exploring trauma, wants to be signed off for HRT. Neither side is willing to budge.

This isn't therapy. This is an argument.

Recently I wrote a Tumblr post about the "Hair Dryer Incident"

The Hair Dryer Incident is a story about a patient with OCD whose life was being massively disrupted by the fear that they had left their hair dryer plugged in at home and it would burn their house down. The clinician advised them to take the hair dryer to work with them every day so that they could see the hair dryer with them and not have to drive home to ensure it was safely unplugged.

There was debate in medical circles about whether this was "enabling" because it did nothing to treat the illness, only managed the life disrupting symptom of needing to drive home to check that the dryer was not plugged in.

For Toby in this scenario he believes that allowing Emma to transition would be "enabling" the sickness that he perceives, that being dissociative identity disorder. He has brought his own baggage into the office and only views Emma and Katina as parts of Ed. No amount of Emma and Katina self-advocating in his eyes will change his mind because they are not "real" in his view.

Of course, he is not fully sold on Emma's condition being real either. There is a sequence in which Emma is left alone in the room and she, having a fascination with books, checks out Toby's bookshelf. This causes Toby to become suspicious and decide that Emma has been reading the medical textbooks on dissociative disorders in order to fake an illness and trick him.

This is not a healthy therapeutic alliance and Toby is breaking all 3 key pillars of establishing a strong patient/client partnership.

Much of modern therapy techniques are based on the concept of Therapeutic Alliance. The history of which dates back to Sigmund Freud and the concept of transference but was refined and redefined by Carl Rogers in the modern Patient Centered Therapy (sometimes referred to as Rogerian Therapy).

With that in mind let's examine the 3 key elements of successful PCT(*) and how Toby failed.

Lead with a Patient Centered Approach This means to check all baggage at the door. Cultural biases have no room inside the clinic (during the book Toby openly mocks Emma's faith in God) and that the patient's priorities are the ones that should be focused on. Both client and clinician should be on the same page of what treatment is being sought, what goals are and how they will be achieved. Toby and Emma (or Katina and Ed) never establish this agreement during their time together. Katina/Emma/Ed are firm in their desire to transition and Toby is firm on his refusal to allow this until the DID is addressed.

Set clear goals with a treatment plan. A good treatment plan will have dates, targets and regular review and reward honesty for both/all parties involved in the alliance. Toby is telling Emma and Katina that they need to open up about their childhood but does not explain how this will benefit or what their goals are. Simply "it's good to talk about it" with no direction or assurances.

Regularly review satisfaction with the therapeutic process, relationship, and treatment plan. This element states that it is important that the clinician be upfront with any potential misdiagnosis and discuss any skepticism in the process and lead from a position of patient satisfaction. I do not need to highlight how Toby failed to lead from a position of patient satisfaction here.

Clearly Toby has a personal concept of what the correct approach is and is holding Emma/Katina's gender affirming care hostage until they can satisfy his unspoken objectives. Correctly applied PCT should be a discussion of mutual agreement and achievable goals worked over a period of time. Toby is not applying these principals at all. His modality simply seems to be "talk about it." I'll be an ethical writer who discloses their biases and say I despise PCT/Rogerian therapy. It is, however, the leading modality within western therapy and it is well researched. Not to mention it is the modality Toby appears to be utilizing in the book. I firmly disagree with Freud on all things (except the concept of infant experiences have lifelong ramifications. A broken clock is right twice a day) and disagree with Rogers on the idea that the client has all of the answers and needs to get out of their own way. An issue with this is that DID is a covert disorder and it will do everything it can to stay hidden. PCT does not offer an environment where patients will be able to navigate their condition as unless they are aware of their symptoms, how and when they manifest and are open to discussing those facts they will naturally steer away from circumstances that would lead to a diagnosis. Most people, including myself, have to exist in the mental healthcare system for 5-12 years before being correctly diagnosed with DID(*) and will experience a number of incorrect diagnoses before finding appropriate care. For us it was 9 years and 7 diagnoses. So. Toby's directive is that the system needs to get to the root of the condition and neither Katina nor Emma are willing to open up about their childhood. Katina continues sticking to her guns and refuses but Emma, desperate to start her medical transition, agrees to open up and the two form a shaky alliance where week by week the pair go back and forth between alliance and conflict. In time Emma describes her childhood being raised by her grandfather who was physically abusive towards her. All too quickly Katina's fears are justified by Toby's combative approach to patient care. One session Emma demands to know why she cannot work on her DID while she transitions and Toby states firmly that she is "not transsexual" which triggers Emma to dissociate into a black void that no one can reach her within. She wanted to be seen and regarded as a woman and a trans man told her flat out that he cannot and does not see her as such. Going back to the hair dryer incident as a reference for a moment. Ed is a member of the system and does show up for therapy on some days. At a point Katina, fed up with being denied treatment, makes a plan to quit their job and start a new life living as a woman 24/7. Ed creates a safety net to prevent this from ruining their collective life and continues to work in the meanwhile. Ed's role in the system has been ground down to working and working alone. He spends his days keeping so busy that he cannot dwell, a panel having the thought bubble "I can't slow down! If I slow down I have to think!" which is depressingly relatable to how we were in the worst years of repressing our gender identity. If Ed is unhappy living as a closeted man who has to occupy himself 24/7 to stop from caving in on himself, if Emma and Katina are both completely stunted by their inability to transition; is it ethical to allow them to transition and to work on their condition while allowing them the freedom to live openly as their chosen gender and prevent a circumstance that is harming the entire system? Toby seems to think it is enabling.

30% of the transgender individuals in the study above were observed to meet the criteria for a dissociative disorder. Living a life where one must mask has severe detrimental impacts on a person's psychology. This is true not just for transgender individuals but for those with autism (*) and other individuals on the LGBT spectrum (*) where the cognitive dissonance between who a person values themselves to be versus how they must present to the world causes the mind to dissociate further and allow contrary thinking to exist in individual pockets of a person's life as well as creates an alienation of the self. Healing under these circumstances requires accepting and embracing oneself, not creating a further divide.

After Toby "caught" Emma looking at the bookshelf he became convinced that she was faking her condition. That she had been plucking symptoms from a book and performing them for him. That she fit the criteria "too well"

Emma rightfully demands to know why she would complicate her receiving HRT by doing something that prevents her being able to. The pair bicker and Toby cuts off the session abruptly.

in the heat of the moment, assuming that Emma was an attention seeker who does not deserve care, Toby declares "Your grandfather was right to hit you."

Even Emma later admits later that therapy should have ended with Toby right there and then. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say. Alas, a mixture of finances and sunk cost keep Emma returning to the chair week after week.

Being trans and having DID are terrifying. In order to receive care and treatment we must insist to a world that what is happening in our hearts and minds is true in spite of all that the world outside tells us is true. We need to not only reach that conclusion within our own lives but must express that truth loud enough that the people around us see it, regard it and accept it.

As so many things in this world are, it's so hard to earn and so easily burned.

"You're faking it for attention" is such an easy sentence to fling at someone and in a therapeutic setting all things should lead to curiosity. Even if a person were faking, it's not normal and healthy behavior for someone to do that. Toby is displaying a complete lack of curiosity and compassion. He is framing himself as the victim in a potential deception from someone who is paying what little money they can put together to receive his care.

I hate Toby.

As the story continues, Emma and her system begrudgingly continue, flitting back and forth between a healthy and unhealthy dynamic with their therapist that shares a lot of similarities to abuse honeymoons. It is worth noting that as the book is a memior it will inevitably be painted with the author's personal view of past events because, as discussed in the Umineko article on recontextualized memories, a human mind cannot avoid applying present understandings to past experiences when recalling memory. This is seen in the book when we see things that Emma cannot possibly have witnessed, such as Toby's facial expression after she leaves the office.

This is not to throw shade at how Emma depicts her former therapist, as he was quite horrid to all 3 of them and quite obviously did more harm than good during their time together. I just wish to note that skewed perspectives are an inevitability. Even still. They do make some progress in talking about the situations. We come to learn of the system origins and how Katina was a friend to the young and lonely child they used to be and that their abusive childhood was centered around physical abuse from their grandfather. While discussing this Emma notes that she could make Katina go away forever with a single phrase. A few short words that she can never ever say and mean or Katina would go away and never come back... and I think that's where I'll stop with the synopsis. I (specifically me, Dawn) broke down in tears the first time I read the book and I have no will to put myself through that again at this exact moment and I wish for you all to have the catharsis of experiencing it for yourself.

I will say in way of positivity that the story is quick to make its conclusions in the final chapters by displaying therapy done right and the fact that even if parts can no longer be heard or even felt, they will always endure in moments where they can add a little color to the world.

They got to write this book together, after all.

For all the sadness this memoir elicits it speaks an honest and hard truth of the desperation, isolation and confusion that can be found in managing sentiments of identity and gender in a time when there was so little understanding and acceptance, particularly for transgender people.

We are lucky these days to have the internet as it is where we can create community and find our people and in finding our people have a better understanding of who we are and how we can live our truths. Visibility of transgender and plural populations has been increasing in part due to the fact we are able to feel unalone and forge community.

2004 did not have those luxuries and I am saddened that Emma Grove had to live through that stigma and lost so much time to unethical and prejudice care from a clinician.

I do hope that in the future we can continue accepting and encouraging one another and living lives where we are not forced to hide, mask or pretend.

For other Media, Myself and I articles, please check out the following:

#dawn posting #media myself and i #media essays #plurality #did #watch me post my trauma in public #this is my gender and I am proud of it

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d1stalker · 19 days

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ORIGIN sneak peak!

It's going to be somewhere between 12-14k words, depending on how much i edit it. i wanna have it up by tmr evening but idkkkk it might be posted sometime during the weekend !!! I am very busy atm

if you know his origin story, then that's what the plot is very loosely based on (its so un-canon it's funny) but the actual story is a lot more reader focused.

----

Before he was known as Logan, or as Wolverine, he was James.

Your James.

—

It’s quiet in the Howlett estate, the kind of stillness that only comes when everyone has long retired for the night. But while the rest of the mansion sleeps, you remain wide awake. Dressed in your nightgown and nestled under the blankets, you glance at the small, brass pocketwatch resting on your bedside table. The hands read 10:22 PM. Any minute now, you think to yourself.

Then, like clockwork, you hear it—a faint knock on your door. Three slow, deliberate taps, followed by two quick ones. The secret signal never fails to make you smile. You spring from the bed, feet softly padding across the floor as you hurry to the door. You open it as quietly as possible, your grin widening the moment you see who’s waiting on the other side.

James.

He stands there, tousled brown hair and that familiar mischievous smile that always manages to light up the dim hallway. You’ve known him your entire life, growing up together under the roof of the Howlett mansion. Your parents, both loyal servants to the Howlett family, were fortunate enough to be granted permission raise you alongside their son. From the moment you could walk, you and James were inseparable, sharing countless adventures in the woods, running across the estate’s expansive gardens, and whispering secrets to one another under moonlit skies.

"About time," you whisper, teasing him with a playful glint in your eyes. "You really know how to keep a lady waiting, don’t you?"

A soft snort escapes his lips as he grabs your hand, pulling you gently into the hallway. "My deepest apologies, M’lady," he replies with mock formality, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "I had to... attend to urgent business in the necessary."

You snicker, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Ah, I see. Was it a fulfilling experience, sir Howlett?"

He glances over his shoulder, rolling his eyes with exaggerated exasperation, though you catch the small smirk tugging at his lips. He doesn’t respond, but his silence confirms everything.

The rest of the trip is quiet, the two of you moving stealthily through the darkened corridors, careful not to disturb anyone or draw unwanted attention. After all, your mother would certainly disapprove of such late-night rendezvous. It is improper, she would say.

But what choice did you have? The day offered no time for moments like this. You were busy training to take over as the next chief maid, learning the endless routines of the household, while James spent his time with his family or other highborn friends. It was only after hours, when the mansion finally settled, that the two of you could steal away for these secret meetings.

Finally, you reach the gardens. The crisp night air greets you as you slip past the tall hedges, the two of you hidden away from any prying eyes. There’s a familiar sense of peace here, among the fragrant flowers and the towering trees that shield you from the world. James leads you to your usual spot, a stone bench tucked beneath the shadow of the hedges. Wordlessly, he slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders before taking a dramatic bow.

"To keep you warm, M’lady," he says softly.

"Hush, James," you murmur, though your words lack any bite.

You’re grateful, especially as the cool night air nips at your exposed skin. The nightgown, while comfortable, offers little protection against the chill. You pull his jacket tighter around yourself, then pat the empty spot next to you, gesturing to him to sit, to which he does.

“How was your day?" you prompt.

James sighs, leaning back on the bench, his hand casually resting behind you as he stares up at the sky. "Same old, same old," he starts, a familiar twinge of annoyance creeping into his voice. "You know how it is. Dinners with my parents, listening to old men talk about businesses I'll never care about, trying not to fall asleep while they drone on about investments or land expansions. It’s all so posh."

You stifle a giggle, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "Posh, huh? You sound like you're living the dream."

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "If by 'dream,' you mean sitting there pretending to care while wondering how quickly I can escape to see you, then yeah, it's an absolute dream," he says sarcastically.

Laughing softly, you bring your hand up to your forehead, acting distressed. "Oh, how tragic. The poor Lord James Howlett, trapped in a world of lavish dinners and fancy wine. Whatever will you do?"

"Mock me all you want, but it’s unbearable," he groans, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I hate it. All the stuffy clothes, the fake smiles, the way everyone acts like they're better than everyone else." He pauses for a moment, then glances sideways at you. "You're the only real thing in that entire mansion."

The sincerity in his words makes your heart flutter, and you’re suddenly grateful for the darkness hiding the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. Looking away, you try to play it off. "Well, if that’s the case, I guess I should charge you for my company," you tease coyly.

He lets out a huff of amusement, shaking his head. "I'll pay whatever price you want.”

There's a pause as you both sit in comfortable silence, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Just then, a soft breeze sweeps through the garden, catching the edges of your nightgown and fanning it up slightly. Before you can even react, he swiftly moves his jacket from your shoulders to your lap, covering your legs. His hand lingers, making sure you're covered before he hastily wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you close against him.

The warmth from his body contrasts with the cool air, and you can't help but laugh softly at his sudden behaviour. "Wow, you really are a gentleman, James."

He tenses slightly, his grip on your shoulder loosening as he looks away, clearly flustered. "I—I just didn’t want you to get cold," he mumbles, his usual confidence faltering.

You smile at how shy he suddenly seems, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Thank you. It’s sweet."

For a moment, he says nothing, but you can feel the way his heartbeat picks up just a little. Then, almost too quietly, he mutters, "I’d do anything for you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you tilt your head to look up at him. But you can’t respond, because he clears his throat, looking down at you with a small, sheepish smile. "What about you? Any exciting adventures in the life of a future chief maid?"

You grin, recognizing his attempt to shift the conversation, and decide to let it go for now. "Oh, you know, the usual. A thrilling day of dusting, folding linens, and trying not to spill tea on your mother’s favorite rug."

James chuckles, pulling you a little closer. "Sounds way more exciting than my day."

Neither of you speak, relishing just being in eachother’s presence.

"So, do tell," you say softly, breaking the silence, "if you could get away from all the fancy dinners and boring conversations, what would you do?"

He smiles slightly, his gaze still fixed on the star-filled sky. "I’d leave. Go far away from here, maybe somewhere quiet. Live in the countryside, where no one cares about wealth or titles." He glances down at you. "Maybe you’d come with me."

You laugh gently. "And who would take care of your family if we both ran off?"

Shrugging, his expression grows more serious. "They don’t need me. Not really. They need someone who’ll do what they want—someone to follow in their footsteps. That’s never been me."

There’s a weight in his words, and you feel a pang of sympathy for him. You’re about to respond, to tell him you understand more than he realizes, when—

BANG.

#reader is going to go through it ngl #and im not completely satsified #with how i ended it #going through lots of rewrites

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dragoneyes618 · 2 months

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INthe current edition of Sapir (available online), Einat Wilf, in “The Palestine Propaganda Complex,” quotes an 1892 essay by Ahad Ha’am on the salutary benefits of the “blood libel.” Since every Jew knows that the claim that we use the blood of gentiles for the production of matzos is false, he argues, the continued existence of the “blood libel” teaches Jews, who might otherwise be susceptible to internalizing the widespread beliefs of their enemies, that, yes, it is possible for the entire world to be wrong and the Jews right.

We are witnessing something of that sort today, in the wake of Israel’s dramatic rescue of four hostages held by Hamas. In Israel, news of the operation set off unanimous jubilation. Secular Jews, knowing that their religious neighbors would not have heard the news on Shabbos, shouted it out from their windows as the latter walked back and forth to shul.

For nearly eight months, the hostages have been constantly in our prayers, and photos of them have been ubiquitous. I would guess that most Israeli Jews spend some moments every day imagining the circumstances in which they are being held and the torment that they are enduring, and that dread has only mounted as the number of hostages confirmed dead has climbed.

Israel is no longer the tiny country I first visited in 1962, in which drivers going in opposite directions on the Tel Aviv–Haifa highway would wave at friends coming the other way. But neither are we separated by anything close to six degrees.

My own personal connection with the hostage families began four months ago at a shabbaton with hostage families under the auspices of Kesher Yehudi. Both the women with whom my wife and I sat at Seudah Shlishis have since learned that their loved ones believed being held captive — in one case a son and the other a husband — had already been murdered on October 7.

Rozita Ziv, the mother of Shlomi Ziv, one of the four rescued captives, was not at the first Kesher Yehudi shabbaton, but she was present at the second shabbaton and the follow-up Purim seudah. In a series of social media posts, she has fervently thanked Kesher Yehudi for all its support, coupled with a poignant plea for achdut and similar efforts to strengthen one another, beginning with meeting those from other sectors of the Jewish community: “United, no one can defeat us, for we are truly a chosen nation, and must act as one nation.”

THAT ISRAEL WOULD SEIZE any opportunity to rescue the captives if the opportunity presented itself was obvious to every Israeli Jew, and should be obvious to all citizens of any country in the world in which a trace of patriotism remains.

But that understanding of citizenship can no longer be taken for granted. Various UN officials, including the secretary-general Antonio Guterres, UN Special Rapporteur on Palestine Francesca Albanese, and the EU’s senior diplomat Josep Borrell, were quick to condemn the rescue on the basis of the casualty figures claimed by Hamas’s Health Ministry, long before they had any basis to confirm those figures or to ascertain the facts of the rescue.

A BBC anchor asked former IDF spokesman Lt. Col. Jonathan Conricus whether Israel had warned nearby civilians of the impending rescue operation. Incredulous, Conricus took a moment before explaining the obvious: Doing so would have ended the operation before it began, with Hamas killing the hostages. And indeed, Hamas has subsequently declared that its response to any future rescue operations will be to immediately kill the hostages.

The four civilian captives who were abducted from sovereign Israeli territory — itself a war crime — were held in apartment buildings in a densely populated neighborhood in furtherance of Yahya Sinwar’s declared strategy, as exposed in last week’s Wall Street Journal on the basis of dozens of his emails, of maximizing civilian casualties, a.k.a. “necessary sacrifices,” to turn Israel into a pariah.

Those holding the captives in their homes cannot in any sense be classified as civilians, even if they had side gigs as “journalists” for Palestinian media outlets. Ditto those guarding them in perpetually darkened rooms. The rescuers came under heavy machine gun and RPG fire as they attempted to evacuate the hostages, and when a rescue vehicle became stuck, a large Hamas force began converging on them, necessitating calling in additional IDF forces waiting in reserve.

At that point, the Israeli forces had to immediately suppress the fire directed at them and prevent Hamas forces from converging on the rescue vehicles. Even a fraction of a second could have been the difference between success and disaster. Fortunately, the rescuers were saved by heavy air support before successfully bringing the captives to waiting helicopters.

Again, those firing machine guns and RPGs and rushing toward the rescue vehicles were clearly not civilians. And they likely constituted the bulk of those killed. But no doubt the Israeli air support also claimed nearby civilians. Those deaths, however regrettable, are squarely on Hamas’s account for holding the captives in a densely populated area and subsequently engaging Israeli rescuers in that same area.

At least, that is how virtually every Israeli Jew sees it. And we are right.

-Yonoson Rosenblum, Mishpacha Magazine, Issue 1016, June 19 2024, page 38

#israel #pro israel #antisemitism #israel hamas war #israel under fire #israel under attack #jumblr #frumblr

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celticcrossanon · 2 months

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I found this interesting

I ran across article linked below today. It is about the Annual Report of the Royal Household, and it raises a few point that I found significant, noted below as quotes from the article

NEW VALUES

The Royal Household has published a new set of written values, designed to guide the institution in the years to come.

Recording them in its annual report, it said: "The new reign has given the royal household the opportunity to define a new expression of purpose underpinned by a refreshed set of values."

Those five values are: "Act with Care"; "Make an Impact"; "Succeed Together"; "Stay Curious"; and "Lead by Example".

The stated purpose of the Royal Household is now to "support the sovereign in serving the UK and Commonwealth to help shape a better world".

EDIT: I am getting controlling vibes from this, i.e. 'do what I say or else', and I have no idea why that is. I have to look up what the old values were so I can compare them.

NO MORE ACCOUNTABILITY IN HOW PUBLIC FUNDS ARE USED

It [the report] retains a pledge to place "strong emphasis on value for money" but removes a clause from last year's report which promised "accountability in the use of public funds and resources".

EDIT: This is a large red flag to me. I see no reason for going from being accountable for the use of public funds to not being accountable for the use of public funds unless said public funds are going somewhere that they should not be going.

REMOVAL OF EMPHASIS ON DIFFERENT GENERATIONS

In a section about the Royal family's role in supporting the King, the 2023-4 report has also deleted a line from 2022-3 which said that: "The different generations of the Royal family help to make the work of the monarchy relevant and accessible to people at every stage of life."

EDIT: This is a minor point. I am simply wondering why this line was deleted.

RETAINS THE REMOVAL OF DUTIES FOR THE MONARCH, DONE IN THE LAST YEAR OF QUEEN ELIZABETH II'S REIGN

In 2022, the same section of the Sovereign Grant report, which introduces the role of the monarch, was rewritten to remove duties the then Queen "must fulfil".

The edit, the first of its kind in at least a decade, took out a 13-point list of specific events that were previously said to be necessary by "constitutional convention", including the State Opening of Parliament.

This year's report retains most of those changes.

EDIT: This is interesting to me because of the implications for The King's health. The duties were removed in the last year of the Late Queen's life, and many people speculated that it was because she was physically unable to perform all those duties anymore. When The King leaves those duties out, instead of putting them back in, it makes me wonder if he is physically unable to do them all as well.

I will have to take the 13 points from old financial reports to see if I should be concerned.

Edited to add in my opinion. :)

ARTICLE

For Reference - link to financial reports 2023-2024

I shall have to read and compare the reports for the last few years before I come to any conclusions. This is my reference and reminder post so I don't forget.

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mysticmunson · 1 year

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rainy days (steddie x reader)

summary: when rain wakes you up earlier than usual

word count: 1.5k

authors note: this is for my best friend @lilacletter i love you so much and appreciate you beyond what i can say. i hope you have an amazing birthday and a fabulous week in general. you deserve all the love in the world, to many more. i hope you enjoy. :)

(not proofread)

The gentle patter of rain on pavement roused you from your sleep, the room being a shade of grey due to the storm outside. Peering at the sleeping figures on each of your sides, Eddie and Steve remained in deep slumber, both sets of lips hung open slightly with light snores.

Entangled in them, you stealthily slipped away, adjusting the blankets around them and walking downstairs. The quaint home was a new edition after a few years of dating, deciding more space was necessary amongst the chaos of each of your work schedules, along with your schooling.

Pine seeped from the dried candle on the countertops, mixing with coffee as you put some in the machine. Rubbing your eyes, you checked the time to see it was barely 8 am, something unnoticeable due to the lack of sun. The April showers transcended into May, greeting summer with the chilly water, a welcomed addition.

Hickory liquid began to fall into your pot, smoke surrounding it, as you reached for your blue mug. With a dash of cream and sugar, it soon blended as you poured it in, reaching the very top of the rim.

Thunder rumbled, averting your attention to the small patio out back, the rain not too heavy against the roof. Wandering through the door, the smell of rain met your brew cohesively, looking out at the land before you.

A few years ago, the plausibility of having a home to share with the men you loved seemed slim to none. The mundane became something to be cherished, never taking a moment of solitude for granted. You all had done a lot of growing, fleshing out to be functioning adults once leaving Hawkins.

Steve had used his free time while working at Family Video to learn about the growing world of the internet, taking classes to get more experience after you persuaded him enough. It was one of the first times he really felt good about his abilities, seeing he was good with technology, and he secured a place at a global company.

Eddie had graduated and had a slight crisis, not positive about what exactly his path was. After a few weeks, he decided to try tattooing, knowing his love of the art and his knack for drawing. He didn’t know he could love something as much as playing guitar until he started that, saving up to have his own store that was now successful in your new city.

They had been more than supportive of you continuing your education, bragging about how smart you were, even if you failed a test or cried out of frustration. Along with school, you worked at a hotel as a receptionist until you could work in your field. The boys insisted that you didn’t need to work, knowing they both had bills and extras covered, but you were stubborn in that sense.

There were ups and downs, Steve having to travel, Eddie working overtime, and you being overly stressed with your workload. However, the one thing that saved you all was the effort put in, there was never a moment you doubted the other didn’t want to be with you, making sure communication was clear due to past scenarios.

Part of you wanted to run out in the storm, to feel the cool water trickle down your arms and onto Steve’s shirt. The warmth in your palms kept you restrained, letting it run down your throat and burn slightly in your chest. The caffeine was slowly rising, now more alert of your surroundings as your feet rocked on the cement.

“What’re you doin’, trouble?” A teasing voice spoke softly, the door shutting and tattooed arms wrapping around your waist. A bare chest pulled flush against your back, soft pajama pants skimming past your bare legs.

“You’re up early.” You mused, securing your spare arm against his, feeling his soft brown hairs. His chin rested on your shoulder, stubbly cheek pressed against your soft one, raising your drink to his lips.

Stealing a bit, his eyes fluttered as you tilted it back, pulling away after a beat. Gulping it down, he winced at the slight burn, but thought of pouring himself a cup in a minute.

“Rain woke me up. Also didn’t feel you.” He murmured with closed eyes, pressing his nose against your face, kissing below your jaw. You tilted your head to nuzzle upon his curls, smelling the hints of his coconut shampoo, kissing his hairline.

Taking in another taste, the coffee was gone and the smoke had vanished. The cup clinked against the small side table beside a double-framed photo. One side had Steve, aged 5 at summer camp with missing teeth, and the other with Eddie, about 3 at a picnic.

Holding the frame, you looked at it in adoration, the coloring slightly faded after being shoved between photos in an attic for years. Steve hated his, but it was one of your favorites. You wondered what they were like as kids, to be boys together despite not knowing one another, so unaware of everything else going on.

“He looks so sweet.” You cooed, finger tracing over his outrageously 1970s haircut. Bangs rested above his eyebrows, hints of blonde between hazelnut locks, eyes squinting due to the sun. He was sitting on a log in front of a lake in a yellow shirt and jean shorts, hiking sandals on his feet.

Your eyesight went to the one of Eddie, a mess of ringlets as he reached his chubby hand at a teddy bear. The hand extending it to him had painted nails of pale pink, his wide eyes looking at her with an even wider smile. You could practically hear the giggle erupting, imagining one like his own, but up a few octaves.

“I love this photo of you too.” You commented, touching where the blue gingham cloth sat beneath him years ago.

Blushing at the affection he still hadn’t grown into full comfort of, he scoffed, standing straighter, but pulling you closer.

“I just know I look cooler than Steve does.” He remarked, making you laugh at the foolishness, interjected by the opening door.

“What? When?” Steve questioned, walking out in a baggy shirt and boxers, scratching at his navel. He held his own cup of coffee, but he had his mostly black, only a spot of sugar.

His eyes fell to the frame in hand, groaning himself, grabbing it and putting it back in its place. The furrow in his brow was not solidified as it quickly vanished as he pecked both of your heads. Instead, he glanced at Eddie in a mysterious, silent agreement.

Suddenly wet lips peppered kisses on both sides of your face, exaggerated smooching noises to add to the dramatics. Squealing, you tried to shrink away, being stopped by their firm hold.

“Thinks she can be all cute and embarrass us.” Eddie teased, lifting you up an inch off the ground, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively, “Did say you were cute though.”

Ignoring Steve’s obvious blush, you playfully berated them instead, “I was just enjoying my rainy morning, go back to sleep.”

Now they both scoffed, Steve wiggling his fingertips against your belly to make you squirm in the other man’s grasp. A sharp gust of wind signaled you all inside, your feet now back on the tiled floor.

“Want pancakes?” Steve asked, yawning behind the back of his hand, already reaching for the cupboard as the answer was always yes. Still, you and Eddie confirmed, leaning against the beige countertops.

The meek hiss of the batter hitting the pan was the only noise as you stood in comfort, Eddie’s arms having returned to your body moments after becoming stationary. He found comfort in touch, not responding well to playful resistance or as a form of punishment. Ignoring either of them wasn’t an option for any of you, no matter how big or small the issue was, it left both distraught.

Without much thought as Steve handed you both a plate, you smacked his bottom with a smirk, noticing how it jiggled. He blushed profusely, leaving both boys’ mouths agape, Eddie’s with a bit more amusement.

“You’re paying for that later.” He quipped, narrowing his eyes with a pointed finger, taking his own plate, and settling you all at the table.

Even if your whole day had consisted around this wooden table, the sticky syrup on the sides of your glass of water from accidental touches, you think you’d still be one of the luckiest girls on the planet. There was every ounce of care and love imaginable in their being, even when being playful.

In decades from now, pictures of the three of you would collect dust on a shelf as loved ones enjoyed their own versions of this day. You hoped the warmth you felt at this moment resonated from the ink, seeing the sparkle in their eyes as you did daily.

The bad days felt heavy, but each of those was worth days like these. Ones where the rain poured, the coffee brewed, and old photographs resided in your possession.

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kindestegg · 2 years

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Analyzing all the differences in the storyboards posted by Yasmin Khudari and the final product! - Part 1: No Collector Edition

Hello everyone!! Today I bring you a different kind of meta post than usual... I'm sure some of you are already aware that Yasmin Khudari who worked on The Owl House has posted quite a lot of storyboards for episodes in season 2B and For the Future as well. I will reblog this post with the link to her site later (as if I believe correctly the issue with posts with external links on them getting shadowbanned still is not fixed).

But for now! Under the cut, I will point out every difference between the storyboards and the final cut and what this could mean! There's a lot of exciting stuff to go through, so much so in fact that I will have to cut this post in half to showcase the Collector related storyboards elsewhere because there is just! So much ground to cover! And the 30 image limit would burst!!! (I know this because I've literally tried.)

(A small side note... I have elected to sometimes to not show picture evidence of things changing because we do have a 30 images limit here and I want to hopefully talk about all the changes!)

Starting with Season 2 Episode 12, Elsewhere and Elsewhen, we have this cute little scene of Lilith cutting some branches out of the way while Luz follows her and does a little twirl. I imagine this was just cut because it wasn't very necessary, but it is cute as hell.

In the final episode, they cut directly to the scene where Lilith is looking at her book showing the Pools of Time entry.

Another subtle difference likely cut for time, Lilith originally would sniff the seaweed brought by her palisman that ended up on Luz's head. In the final episode, this little action is absent.

Something that was not cut but rather added this time! In the storyboards, Lilith only goes "Eh?" when she thinks she failed in finding the time pools, whereas in the final episode, she goes into her whole spiel about how she "triple checked all her calculations, her equipment is first rate". It's possible that while the moments seen before were cut, this was added instead.

There is also another slight divergence in dialogue. In the final episode, Lilith's monologue goes: "Maybe the blood was too dry? Is it not algae blooming season?" Whereas here Lilith wonders if the map was outdated or if the oak was a bit more of a pine before wondering if it's not algae blooming season.

And finally, there is a moment that was also cut from the finale episode where Luz is wowed by the discovery of the prehistoric Boiling Isles, but finds out she can't breathe in there. This would explain why in the final episode she is heard coughing before pulling her head back out.

I do think it's a shame this was cut as it would better explain why she was coughing and would be a neat little nod to the fact the air would have been different in that era of time.

Next, we have another set of boards for Elsewhere and Elsewhen, this time showcasing Luz and Lilith traveling with Philip to the head. I'm excited to get to this one because this has some juicy changes I want to discuss.

And our first change already shows exactly what I mean: there is no mention of The Collector in these boards. Instead, both Luz and Philip are seeking something called "The Song of Stars".

And equally, Luz doesn't refer to it as a "he" who can tell them how to clear the mist, but rather just something that can grant them power.

Is it possible that at the point in time these boards were getting done, the Collector was not yet meant to be a character? Maybe the Song of Stars was rather some kind of powerful spell, something that would grant Philip a power similar to the draining spell.

Smaller detail but just something I thought was cute: In the original boards, Luz did not say "snap snap snap" out loud, so I'm glad that was added in the final cut. It's cute!

But you know what did not make the cut? Philip being a suck up to flatter Luz and Luz being absolutely adorable about it. He calls her crab language "beautiful" and says both her and Lilith are very brave and that they're like warrior princesses, which sure makes Luz happy. Oh, if only her happiness could've lasted.

A blush and happy tears!! My god girl!! I am so sorry your idol turned out to be a douche! You deserved to have kept that happiness!!!

I do have some theories as to why this was cut. Could have been reworked for time, or could have been that they didn't think people may get the reference (this reads like a Xena Warrior Princess one to me at least), or even that it might seem odd for him to have that concept...

I do think the blush here is interesting, we have seen characters in the show blush in contexts that aren't romantic such as when they are embarrassed, looking up to someone or think something is cute. So this isn't too odd, Luz is meeting what at the current time is a big idol for her and he is saying very nice things to her, which would understandably get a strong reaction.

Minor change: Luz goes "what!" in the original storyboards before asking if Philip uses glyphs too. Again, very minor change, but! Cute!!!

Interesting change here: In the original boards, Philip does not comment that it took years for him to find the glyphs and that it was almost as if the world wanted to hide them from him.

Instead, he comments he "didn't realize there was one for light as well".

This is REALLY interesting to me, because it also makes me wonder if the subtle theme of it being ambiguous whether the Titan's consciousness lingered and somehow hid the glyphs from Philip or if he was just that disrespectful and stubborn towards the B.I culture and wildlife that the only way he could rationalize his hardship was through the world being against him... was way less present in an earlier draft of the story.

He also does not comment "a warrior and a scholar, truly impressive" at Luz after she tells him she also found a glyph in a snowflake, just being quiet instead. I think that part may have been added to make more thematic sense with Lilith having a small quiet moment of looking weirded out by Philip's flattery right after.

Another minor detail: Luz also blushes in this storyboard when gushing over teaching Philip the light glyph, but this is absent in the final cut. I wonder if this was done so people wouldn't get the wrong idea, or, rather, if "my idol is so cool" gushing would be considered to be something that wouldn't be worth blushing over.

Another instance of The Collector being replaced by The Song of Stars. I find it funny in a silly way that it's in all caps, makes me think of how RPG games will write important key items or boss characters in all caps.

And that's all for the differences in this episode! But before we move onto the next, I wanted to talk a bit more about the Song of Stars because this all just... fascinates me? Coupled with that one storyboard we have seen from The Owl Beast nightmare that showed what seemed to be three figures instead of one, I wonder if back then they were toying with the idea of the celestial magic opposing earthly magic from the titans and the collectors as a species being the reason why titans are gone, but they didn't think to actually have a collector as a character back then, only have them as some distant threat and adding to the lore. The song of stars could have been some kind of powerful spell or weapon left by then way back when, perhaps even what killed the titans.

Maybe we will know once the series ends and we can ask all about the cut storylines that ended up being discarded in favor of the current one. I certainly want to know!

For, Them's The Breaks, Kid, now, we have one minor dialogue change. Eda adds a "honestly", when she says she thought there'd be more (to her misdeeds). Maybe they took it out because she WASN'T being honest? LMAO.

This is an interesting cut line: In the storyboards, before saying she'll be separated from Lilith, Eda says her parents "will kill her". While we know this is classic Eda hyperbole, I think this is interesting because to me it may have been cut due to the fact that this could be seen as odd when her parents have been shown previously to be pretty understanding... or maybe there is more to the Clawthornes than we think of.

I'm definitely not saying Dell and Gwen would be abusive, fucking hell no, but Gwendolyn has at the very least been pretty overbearing on Eda at times, and has made Lilith feel left out, presumably even before the curse if Lilith's desperation to stand out above Eda is anything to go by. Maybe, even without meaning to, Eda and Lilith's parents were pretty strict about getting them a good enough education and nudging them to join the Emperor's Coven. I mean... where do you wonder their aspiration to it came from?

Or, again, I'm just looking too much into this and this line was cut precisely because this wouldn't reflect Dell and Gwen well.

Small detail, in the storyboards, Eda said "I'll do anything to make up for this" instead of just "I'll do anything". I think it's possible they cut this because it made more sense to imply she'd do anything to stay rather than "make up for" things she wasn't truly sorry for.

More small details! Faust doesn't say "no child is beyond redemption", but rather "no one". This is interesting to me because it would imply Bump's life philosophy extends to adults as well, and in my opinion nods to the goodness in his heart.

Also! In the storyboards Eda doesn't laugh nervously, just raises her hand at Bump.

"IFWOT" also used to not have its name be said in the storyboards when Faust explained it to Eda and Bump, instead he simply called it a "special training program for gifted students of the Isles". I think this was more of a change to let us know of the name really, and it's possible they didn't have the name when it was boarded.

And finally, Faust was I guess supposed to laugh offscreen when he walked away, but this is absent from the final episode. I guess they either thought he might not be the type or they just forgot to add it, after all it would require someone to remember to record the line and add an offscreen sound effect.

Another set of boards for the same episode also shows Lilith and Eda in their studying together.

For starters, instead of Lilith saying "Trials for the Emperor's Coven are just around the corner", she says "The Emperor's Coven will be here *any* day" in the storyboards, which to be fair isn't a big difference, specially since the storyboards afterwards continue the same way with Eda pointing out seven months isn't any day/just around the corner.

Also something interesting, when giving Eda her question, Lilith specifies a potency the Leadfoot potion would have. Does this imply that potions can be mixed with varying potency, making some purposefully weaker or purposefully stronger? Maybe as a way to create balance?

Also it is barely a real difference, but I thought it'd be criminal to not let you all know Lilith is described to be "slightly envious" in the storyboards when stating that Eda is correct lol

She also had EEE on her dialogue before saying "imagine us both getting" on the storyboards which I'm sad didn't make it in!

Also there was no dialogue for Lilith pointing to the clock in the original storyboards! I'm guessing they added "look we're gonna be late" as a way to clarify what pointing anxiously at a clock meant lol

The storyboards then cut to way later in the episode, with Raine having transferred to Hexside and Eda meeting them in the cafeteria. Another slight dialogue change is Raine used to simply say their parents were surprisingly cool about it, rather than they hated the cold on the knee like they do in the final product.

It is very faint, but there is also a cut frame of Eda blushing at Raine while smiling here. Very cute!

Raine also used to take a sip while saying "give me the rundown of this place" while cutting that sentence in the middle and going "blegh" because of the taste, rather than in the final cut where they say the full sentence and then take a sip.

I think this may have been cut simply because it made the pacing of the dialogue way too awkward.

And finally, Raine used to laugh at Eda commenting on how much she liked the apple blood, which I think is just cute.

Next up, Labyrinth Runners! We have three different sets of storyboards for this one to get through!

First of all! After Bump takes a fighting stance, the coven scouts look at each other and shrug, which was cut in the final version. Guess they'd usually not think much of Bump huh...

Another set of storyboards shows us a pretty different look at the scene where Adrian has Gus held inside the gym: First of all, for some reason this set of boards is missing all of Adrian's dialogue, which makes it hard for us to infer just how much changed about that from the storyboards to the final cut, but we can see a glimpse of a different storyline with Gus' one line in all this:

"I'll never join your coven"... does that mean, originally, Adrian would try to force Gus to join the illusion coven, and Gus was resisting because he probably figured out by now getting coven sigils is bad news? But then again, I can imagine this was cut and quickly reworked into something a little less convoluted and more straightforward: Gus wouldn't know yet just how bad joining a coven is and about the draining spell, and Gus DOES specialize in illusion, so it could look odd that he is resisting this much.

There's another set of boards of when Hunter wakes up at the infirmary, and sadly this one is also missing dialogue. But we can still infer some differences!

First of all, after Skara tells him it's not an illusion and he is in the healing homeroom, Hunter opens his mouth briefly, maybe speaking words of relief or just sighing in relief really.

Also minor thing: it's a bit hard to tell with how these storyboards are with missing chunks, but it seems like Willow would have walked up to Hunter to defend him without him having to have brought up Gus' breathing exercise.

And for the last board in this, uhm, I don't... think this was meant to make it into the final cut but. LOL. LMAO.

Moving onto King's Tide!

Originally, we would've seen Luz use her safe fall spell when dodging Belos' attacks!

Also, instead of saying that it took him years to figure that (combining glyphs) out, Belos instead says it took him years to "harness their strength"... and he does NOT say anything about it being almost as if the titan was hiding it from him. Hmmm. Perhaps, more fuel to the fire of the theory that back then, there was no subtle implication of either the titan's consciousness lingering or Belos attributing his own disdain and lack of care to the titan?

This also curiously alters the next bit of dialogue: he still says "though you're still decades away from beating me", just earlier. And soon after, he says "that was almost impressiv-" getting cut out when Luz sends fire out at him. Not gonna lie, I almost wish this was kept because I like the idea of Belos getting cocky and immediately getting blasted, unable to finish his sentence. But oh well!

Speaking of dialogue differences!

Here, Philip says "And I'm giving you a chance to be saved, Luz. To go home!" instead of "And despite our differences, I want to help you, Luz. I can send you home." I consider this more or less the same, really, but it is an interesting change. He leans more on the saving aspect here.

And there is a pretty big cut scene also with how Luz responds to "I don't want to see another human life destroyed by this place".

Here, she snaps that he's the one destroying things, and wonders what it is all for, and then asks "what do you think they DID to you?"

Only after this, in the storyboards, does she go on to her "you're such a hypocrite" lines.

To me, this is a bit of a shame for having been cut out, because I feel like it brings up a good point about how Philip self justifies his wrongdoings by believing that the Boiling Isles residents are all inherently bad by the way they simply are, and that this divergence he cannot understand could somehow justify the drastic violent measures he takes.

I think it could have been this was cut for time, or maybe the crew thought this addition would be a bit confusing for some audiences to understand the implications it is trying to set up. It IS indicative of a bigger exploration of Philip's psyche after all.

Another incredibly interesting change: in the storyboards, Luz used to not have the petrification spell continue crawling up her, and is able to shake it off okay. I imagine they changed this to maybe make the situation look more dire and up the stakes a little, otherwise the scene might be too stale and anticlimactic with just Luz being able to keep talking and not having time ticking down on her life.

She also shuffles to her feet and is able to stand up while facing him, while in the final episode she can't get up due to the petrification spell still crawling up on her. Not gonna lie, I almost wish we did get this one, because the way she controls the situation with Philip here kind of feels more satisfying like this, while in the final product, you're busy going "shit shit shit LUZ OH NO".

She also used to cry a lot more on the boards when begging for the deal... I wonder if they added the petrification continuing really to just hammer home the desperation and make her crying have a "reason", though uh... hot take, I think she has reason enough to cry considering the Draining Spell threatening to kill everyone.

Also! Belos used to "chuckle" as the boards call for it when he was about to shake Luz's hand, but he doesn't do so in the final cut.

And finally for this batch: there's a small cut moment of Belos saying "you" with pained effort at Luz after she fucking booms him and gets the sigil on him, and she fucking STARES back with the most ominous badass look. I'm kind of sad that didn't make it in. Yeah it's minor but I like every time it's very clear Luz is being a thorn on his side and he is actually really fucking bothered by it actually.

Next batch of storyboards for this ep shows the fight with Belos on the bridge! First difference I can think of is that Luz was supposed to say "Philip" very quietly before getting jumpscared by him showing up behind her. It may have been cut similarly just because of them not getting audio for it or something or it not being necessary.

Bigger dialogue change: Instead of saying "we don't belong here", Belos says "I wanted to save you", which adds more fuel to the fire that they used to put a lot more emphasis on Philip's psychology of seeing himself as the one who gets to decide who is saved and seeing himself as a savior and martyr, and also someone done wrong by the demon realm.

I can't really know for sure why this was reworked and why more emphasis was put on rather Philip seeking to relate to Luz in their humanity. A lot of these boards seem to put even more emphasis on them as foils, standing up as equals against each other, and I do kind of lament we lost that? I mean, don't get me wrong, I can totally see that STILL lingers in the final product, but it feels way stronger in these.

By the way, if you're wondering, Luz does not say "I'm nothing like you" here either, it just cuts right onto Willow grabbing Belos with vines.

Also! When the gang shows up, they used to have no dialogue about how they're here to help and all, just cutting to Luz saying "you guys!!" (in the final product, she says "You guys are literally the coolest"). I do like the final product more, it's cute and adds more I think.

This one deserves to get shown: there's a cut little moment after Amity covers Luz where they look at each other and blush and it is! So cute! Why did it not make it in!! WHAT! Just because it "isn't the time to be gay"? Bullshit! Yuri time is all the time!

But for something that wasn't in the boards but made it in! Hunter protecting Willow was added in the final product!

And that is it for King's Tide... and so I ask that you tune in next time for when I analyze the For the Future boards!! I am VERY excited to get through those, specially because even between the roughs and cleans for a scene, there's so many little differences!!! And I want to talk about it ALL!!

#the owl house #toh analysis #storyboards #toh storyboards #luz noceda #emperor belos #philip wittebane #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #sorry for tagging all these characters but theyre all pretty relevant here!#commander's orders

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puppyguppy · 1 year

Text

Everyone is always warned about villains.

And like, obviously, most aren't in the market of befriending any of them. Usually. Sure, some of those crazy circles might have that 'thicker than blood' mentality, and an 'until death do us part' kind of loyalty, which can be quite appealing. But, at the end of the day, most of them were still -- well. Crazy. Criminals, killers, or about to be.

No one is ever warned about heroes, though.

And just how dangerous, just how chaotic it can be to befriend any of them instead.

It's the heroes' fault, after all -- your friends' fault, that you are now in the mess that you're in. They're the reason you're standing, awkward and anxious and alone, in the middle of a rented room. In a love hotel, no less. At the very least, the room is...inconspicuous enough. Not that you've had a real look around yet; maybe a little afraid of what you might find. You've heard stories of places like this, of what some rooms comes with, complimentary, and what can furthermore be purchased. There's probably lube somewhere. Condoms. Aphrodisiacs. There's probably alcohol in the minifridge. And, you're not sure if all three remotes on the entertainment stand are for the television, or...

You never pictured yourself ending up in a place like this.

You never had a need. Or even a desire. Any curiosity of such establishments (and what went down in them) was always so fleeting, there was hardly a single solid thought to act upon. The metaphorical cat of your morals remained very much alive.

Until now.

The room has not one, but two beds. Which seems a bit much, but maybe not? What do you know? There's one on the first floor, a california king by the looks of it; but then there's a flight of stairs that lead up to a loft, where there's the second, smaller bed. That's all that's up there, though. The rest of the first floor has a fairly large television, surrounded by equally as large speakers, a coffee table, a sectional sofa...then there's that minifridge, a door that leads to what must be the bathroom, and a few other doors that are most likely closets. Cabinets. Which you definitely don't plan on checking.

Whatever might be in them, you're not here for.

No, you're here because you friends thought it'd be funny to - to all pitch in together and bid on some ridiculous experience. There's always charity auctions at the hero galas, and this year's had been no different. Normally, a couple of heroes would offer things like a date or a dance. Some of them would auction off limited edition merch, or maybe a day of training, etc. Wholesome, PR approved things - things that wouldn't embarrass whatever charity the money was going to.

This year though...had hosted a rather unique experience, and with a hero that hardly bothered to show his face during the day, let alone at a gala. A hero that you just so happen to have a huge, embarrassing crush on. Despite never having met him. It's not like you're a hero, you're just part of support -- granted, a very necessary part of support, but still.

Eraserhead only ever used his capture weapon and goggles.

And if he ever needed them repaired, he never came to you with them. Which, why would he? There was never a reason for him to. And, you were content with that. Content knowing there would never be a reason. That you'd never meet him, and he could stay a stupid little celebrity crush, and your friends could forever tease you a little bit about it, because that was life. That was normal, that was fine.

But then you'd seen his auction.

For 1,500,00 yen, Underground Pro-Hero Eraserhead will put his cigarette out anywhere on your body.

You'd been gobsmacked.

And caught staring, wide-eyed and flushed, up at the screen. You couldn't believe it -- couldn't believe that Eraserhead was even participating in this year's gala, and couldn't believe he'd offer something so - so -- you couldn't believe his PR team had even -- wait, did a hero like him even have a PR team? How had the charity even allowed that? A charity for...abused, sexually assaulted, and homeless children.

You still can't believe it.

Can't wrap your head around it. Or how your friends, several drinks into the night, had all snuck off at different intervals to drop money off at Eraserhead's designated auction booth, until that 1,500,000 yen was achieved. Or how they'd all smirked, cheered, and toasted after shoving a gold ticket into your sweaty, shaking hands. The ticket had your name on it. A date, a time, and an address. Which had led you to where you are now.

With the ticket still burning in your back pocket, where you're sure it'll leave the first of many welts on your skin.

Since that's the reason you're here.

Because your friends paid for you to be your dream guy's ashtray for the night.

You hope you aren't overdressed. Or underdressed. You weren't exactly sure what was appropriate to wear for an occasion such as...this. So, you'd settled on a black, form-fitting, and slightly sheer tank top, tucked into a pair of yellow, wide-legged slacks. It left most of your arms exposed, some of your shoulders, the nape of your neck and the top of your chest. And the pants were easy enough to pull up and expose your legs, because -- yes. You'd put a shameful amount of thought into the easy access of your flesh. And the colors that adorned it. His colors.

Which...might've been a touch too far, now that you're left with nothing to do but think about it.

And how you kind of hope you get stood up.

Like, maybe this was a prank. Or a scam. Or, maybe Eraserhead got caught up in some trouble. Some much more important hero work. If so, you could just stay until the room's time was up. You'd get comfortable enough eventually, with just yourself. Enough to sit down somewhere, at least. You could mess around on your phone, then head home and laugh it all of. You could pretend it was just some strange dream, though your friends would tease you even more, even harder -- that'd be fine.

As it should be.

A sudden but solid double-knock on the door startles you so hard that your knees almost buckle.

"Can I come in?"

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #gender neutral reader #aizawa #still working on this #not based on a tiktok this time!#bestie picked “ashtray” so

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iunartear · 11 months

Text

Genshin Impact x Baldur's gate 3 headcanons

[1][2]

...or what if Genshin characters were put into the world of Faerûn and you were the Tav~~

Ladies only edition!

NINGGUANG

ੈ✩‧₊˚ STATS Race: High Elf Class: Rogue (Thief) x Sorcerer (Wild magic) Background: Urchin

Her childhood being a constant run for money and trying to make the most out of nothing forced Ningguang to learn her way around the streets of the lower city. She evolved into a Rogue, or more accurately, a Thief, whose abilities of becoming invisible when necessary or stealing in need, carried her around the first stage of her life easily. She grew into a smart woman, who knew her way around idiots.

All that made her into what she is today, a charismatic Duchess of Baldur’s Gate. Once granted the opportunity to rise from the lowest, she didn’t hesitate and worked her way up to become the most known and influential persona of the upper city. That was also the moment she became a sorcerer, being finally granted to thoroughly discover the power within herself and her heritage.

Meeting her was an amazing opportunity, her knowledge about the city proved to be a great resource for you and your group. You knew the moment you first exchanged glances, that she wasn't your usual nobility. A fine ally indeed, who seemed to also bring even more allies for your journey. But wait, who is that brunette Tiefling that is always by her side?

BEIDOU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ STATS Race: Zariel Tiefling Class: Fighter (Battle Master) Background: Soldier

Oh so this is the one that’s always beside her grace? Beidou, the feared fighter of Baldur’s Gate and a martial legend. Her name seems to be spread everywhere, yet time and again people spell it out in fear, rather than in admiration. They say she’s the devil's emissary, and the one that will bring doom to this world. Are they’re right, or is it just some senseless rumor? Who knows…

From a fisher family, Beidou always struggled with money. Only throughout her hard work did she make her name be heard by others, and after some workaround she joined the army. That laid the basis for her abilities that she slowly improved, and made her into the Fighter she is today.

And regardless of what people are saying, no one is able to break Beidous spirit. She doesn't feel the need to be acknowledged by anyone, her own pride is the only thing she needs to be successful. And maybe someone else's pride too… but that’s another story.

You meet her through Ningguang, as she herself explained that the Tiefling is one of her only trustworthy allies, who she trusts with her life. And by the look of it, the rumors are really just rumors, because such high spirit and her approachable way cannot be faked. She treated you like her own the moment you introduced yourself, calling you her comrade. Without any questions she joined your party, making herself comfortable in your camp. And as it seems, one of her major qualities is bringing a big amount of alcohol every long rest.

NILOU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ STATS Race: Seldarine Drow Class: Bard (College of Swords) Background: Entertainer

A bard known to everyone around Faerûn, whose swords are the only thing sharper than her tongue. Considering her drow ancestry, it’s quite surprising seeing her so famous and loved, yet here we are.

Raised in the underdark, Nilou has been on Lolth influence for most of her life. Even if her childhood wasn’t very exceptional, she still wasn’t truly convinced by the Lolth-Sworn practices. After convincing her parents to let her go for the upper world, that was the moment she saw the true nature of this world.

Now converted, she learnt the ways of the daughter of Lolth – the Dark Maiden Eilistraee. She practised sword dancing, and for the turn became a bard, whose mission was to spread the message of her Dark Maiden. Freedom and equality between Drows and the world, she travelled to make her words be heard.

And heard they were, because you meeting her wasn’t arranged per se. A quick trip to the bar to end the day on a good note, you quickly acquainted yourself with the bard lady. Your intoxicated state made you put your prejudice away for this night, and tune in for her songs. Hearing her notes, you were quickly convinced by her, and asked her to join your troop. Outside of combat and your adventure, Nilou is a great entertainer that loves to put you to sleep with her ballads.

SANGONOMIYA KOKOMI

ੈ✩‧₊˚ STATS Race: Drow Half-Elf Class: Cleric (Life Domain) Background: Folk Hero

The all-knowing priestess, who also turned out to be a tactician, seems to be working hard for her people. Coming from a holy clan whose goal is to care and protect its people, Kokomi is a natural “Folk Hero”. Everyone seems to respect her and her authority as a leader, but it wasn’t always like that. Kokomi had to prove herself as a capable commander, who is able to go any length to ensure everyone's safety.

Her Cleric abilities stem from her faith in the goddess Umberlee, but she does not agree with her practices. She merely follows her out of respect as the founder of the sea, and to ensure that she does not try any of her evils on common people. Her Domain being the Life ones is also not a coincidence. She always wanted to help people, and if throughout her power, then so be it. Her abilities made her into a renowned healer, who brings people from far Faerûn to seek her help.

Well, Kokomi doesn’t really look like someone who you would meet, like, ever. But it did happen, and you met thanks to Beidou, who was an old friend of hers as she once seeked her blessing for a calm ocean for her family business. Hearing your troubles concerning your health, she suggested Kokomi in an instant.

And that’s how you met the priestess, who sadly was unable to heal your ailment. Yet she was happy to help out in seeking others help, and giving you her full book of different associates she made in her life. A valuable ally, who in the end joined your forces out of curiosity… and maybe also because of your lack of any tactic in combat.

#baldurs gate 3 #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #ningguang x reader #nilou x reader #beidou x reader #kokomi x reader #sangonomiya kokomi x reader #genshin impact x reader #ੈ✩‧₊˚ saqs headcanons

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little-worm-grant · 9 months

Text

Steven's pov: Oh Sausages

692 words / Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Some lighthearted scatterbrained memories from the mind of Steven Grant and his formative years. Lunchtime edition.

Previously: Steven's pov: Happy Simple Normal Life (Not a necessary read)

Tags: Childhood Memories, Comfort, Fluff, Developing Friendship

The room was abuzz with the noise of conversations going on all around him. Steven didn’t focus on any, or anyone really. Too upset to be paying attention. Even if his favorite pastime was eavesdropping and pretending to be part of a conversation. Today he just wasn’t feeling it.

Staring down at his lunch tray brought back that queasy feeling. In front of him sat eight of the greasiest sausages he’d ever seen and a hamburger beside it. A handful of ketchup packets seemingly sprinkled around like they’d been tossed into the mix. He couldn’t remember picking out any of this stuff, and if he had he’d clearly been on one too many cold medications as of late.

Another boy sat beside him. His words startled him out of his own head. “Sup?”

Steven glanced up at him, unsure why he’d been picked. He didn’t have it in him to ask. “Think they’d let me change my dinner?”

“What’s wrong with your sausages?”

“I don’t really like eating meat.”

“Since when? Every day I’ve seen you pick up as many sausages as they’d let you. I’ve started to think you’re turning into one.”

“I’m not!” He bit back. Realizing he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat in the lunch hall and did this. Maybe he did eat sausages? His shoulders slumped. “I saw a video about what they do to the pigs. I don’t think I wanna eat meat anymore.”

“Oh.” His companion said. “Well here. Let’s switch. I never have enough for those burgers.”

The other tray was pushed his way. A fruit cup and some veggie sticks looked more tempting than his own tray. Steven didn’t go for anything immediately. Hands under the table pushed his thumbs together a little harder.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like. You don’t know me. But you’re giving me your food.”

“We see each other most lunches? I know you used to like sausages and you socked Tom for messing with me that one time. Good enough for me.”

The boy took his tray and used the plastic knife to start splitting the sausages to put on the burger. Using the packets of ketchup to add on top. Steven had to look away. Instead, he focused on the other tray. Picking up one of the baby carrots to toss in his mouth. He was starving. He pried open the sandwich to check what was in that.

“Oh, don’t eat that, it’s ham. You can pick it off though. Make a carrot sandwich or something.”

“A carrot sandwich.” Steven snorted and smiled a little more.

Lunch went down way better than he could have ever imagined. He’d never had anyone try to befriend him before. They talked about anything and nothing. He didn’t eat the sandwich but the fruit and vegetables should be enough to get him through the rest of the day.

Learned his friend had an annoying little sister and he wanted Steven to come to his house and help him with his chores. That involved eating as many raspberries as he wanted while they berry-picked, so he was definitely going to beg his parents to let him go. By the end of it, the lunch hall was looking much emptier and staff were starting to pack up. The bell rang and his friend got up to leave first.

“Good talk. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Yeah? I mean uh- yeah. Sure thing, sausage boy. Laters gators.” Steven said quickly, getting a laugh. Offering a quick wave before taking both their trays to the cleaning station.

He felt too awkward to have spent a whole lunch with the other kid to correct him now. Didn’t even know his name. It wasn’t like names were a big deal. People got his name mixed up all the time. Could have called him Bob and he’d have answered to it. He felt far lighter in his walk back to class. Excited for the rest of his day. Most of all, he couldn’t wait to go home and tell his mom and dad everything.

#steven grant #moon knight #oscar isaac #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockey #stevens pov #open starter #open rp

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penny00dreadful · 1 year

Text

Somebody To Love - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 AO3

*Professor Farnsworth voice* Good news everyone! It is finished! There'll be one more part after this, I didn't need as many parts/chapters as I originally thought becasue I figured why can't I just have a high word count here? 😅 I should be able to have the final part out soon once I've completed the edits. 🥳🖤

Some tw's for this part: addict thoughts, talks of dieting, addiction recovery.

The delicacy with which Dustin and Max were handling him made Eddie feel like he’d been thrown into an alternate reality. They had the kid gloves on, treating him with so much care, like he was a temperamental ornament ready to shatter at any moment and honestly, he kind of appreciated it.

People often took one look at him and just assumed he was a tough as nails metalhead drug addict that would spit at them sooner than look at them and like… sometimes they weren’t that far off.

But he was still human with an infuriatingly soft core and that core was feeling very bruised right now.

He didn’t know exactly what they knew of everything, they were obviously much closer to Steve than they were to him, but he wasn’t really sure how close.

Still, it was nice that they weren’t automatically treating him like dirt for breaking Steve’s heart and then clumsily attempting to sellotape it back together with promises of proving it to him. Maybe that was Steve’s doing. Or maybe they were just more emotionally intelligent than he’d given them credit for.

Chrissy, however, had no such compunctions.

She waltzed into his house at ass o’clock in the morning and shoved a to-go coffee into his hands, knowing well he hadn’t slept a wink, she had been the one up with him on the phone for half the night after all.

“C’mon, Twinkie!” She slapped his ass hard. Way harder than was necessary, in his opinion. “Now’s not a time for moping, now’s a time for action!”

Eddie scowled at her and took a sip before coughing it up and shooting coffee straight out of his nose.

“Jesus fuck!” He gulped back air, barely able to get the words out through the scratching at his throat. “How many espresso shots are in this?!”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” Chrissy dismissed with a wave of her hand.

He had barely managed to get his breath back, standing in the middle of his house in just his ratty old Dragon Ball Z boxers with coffee dripping down his chest when his front door was thrown open with a bang and more people descended on him.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

The Corroded Coffin boys strolled through his house, immediately descending on his kitchen and raiding his cabinets for whatever food Steve constantly kept his house stocked with.

“We heard you finally got your head out of your ass.” Jeff replied, through a mouthful of Honeycombs.

“Hey! Those are mine- Wait. You knew?”

“Dude, everyone knew.” Grant had commandeered his chocolate Yoo-Hoo, cracking the lid off easily.

Eddie felt his stomach drop. “Everyone?”

“Everyone.” Gareth emphasised, knowing exactly whose wrath Eddie was now fearing.

“Shit. Does he know? What happened yesterday?”

Chrissy nodded. “I called him. He’s in the air.”

“You fucking traitor!” He shouted, pointing his finger at her. “He’s going to kill me!”

She just waved her hand at him. “Go get dressed. We’ve got work to do.”

Eddie mumbled and grumbled but did as he was told, knocking back the rest of the poisonous coffee she had provided him. When he arrived back downstairs it was like walking into the middle of an intervention, even though he had started the process himself.

He was going to get off the drugs, he was going to stop drinking. He was no longer going to be sleeping around, obviously, but he was also going to go to a private medical clinic for a number of tests. Just to make sure he hadn’t picked anything up in between previous testing. He was going to keep smoking, because god-damn it he needed something.

The rest of that day was spent with Dustin, Chrissy and the Corroded Coffin boys scraping through every square inch of his house, searching for his various stashes of drugs and alcohol while Max watched him like a hawk.

Chrissy pulled away some pills taped to the bottom of a decorative pot that sat on top of one of his upper cabinets and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen that pot in his life before. Never even looked at it, let alone hid shit using it. It was the ugliest fucking pot he’d ever seen, why was it in his house? Honestly he’d forgotten half the places they pulled a handle of vodka or a baggie of powder out of.

He wasn’t an addict, he didn’t consider himself an addict but he just used them more as an aid to get him through the day. He wasn’t an addict.

He used them because he wanted to, not because he needed to.

Except.

Except now that he was faced with the reality that there’d be none of it left in the house, and he’d be monitored very closely by all of them so he couldn’t break and go out and get a fix… it had his anxiety skyrocketing through the roof and he almost asked them to stop multiple times.

But each time he did, he remembered the defeat and heartbreak on Steve’s face and he… he just had to keep pushing forward.

As they went from room to room, Max seemed to have some kind of sixth sense. Sitting there in her tailored business suit, red hair in a high pony, leaning over towards him with her elbows on her knees. Whenever he knew where something was stashed and the guys skimmed over it or missed it, she called out to them, telling them to look again without taking her eyes off him.

“How the hell are you doing that?” He asked.

“I had a troubled upbringing.” Max replied with a flat tone of voice.

They’d been at it for hours by the time he called for a fucking breather. All of this was exhausting. The stress was eating at his stomach. Eddie was in his back garden, trying to chill the fuck out with a cigarette when he heard the door open behind him.

“Boy.” The voice that came from behind him was heavy and stern, like Eddie’s own personal Kratos had descended and Eddie froze like a rabbit caught in a trap.

He turned slowly, hoping that someone else, anyone else was around to help take the pressure off but they all seemed to have scattered, the cowards.

“Wayne!” He tried to inject as much joy and lightness into his voice as he got to his feet but the man just continued to stare down at him with a raised eyebrow and his arms crossed, towering over him like a monument of parental disappointment.

Quick as a flash Wayne’s hand shot out and slapped him over the back of the head, not too hard, but hard enough to let Eddie know he wasn’t happy, as if that had ever been in doubt. “What did you do to that young man?”

“You can’t hit me! I’m in recovery!”

Wayne slapped him again.

“I’m fixing it!”

“You better be. I like that Steve kid. He’s good for you.”

Eddie slumped, dropping his cigarette butt on the ground and trudging over to his uncle, pressing his forehead into his collarbone. “I know.”

Wayne nodded and pulled him in close for a hug.

“I’m fixing it.” Eddie said again, quieter this time.

“Good.” Wayne rubbed his hand up and down Eddie back before pulling away. “We’ll get this sorted.” He placed his hands on either side of Eddie’s face and gave him a light squeeze. “Now pick up that butt, I didn’t teach you to litter.”

For all his whining and grumbling and absolute terror of the man, it was a big help having Wayne around. Of course it was, how could it not be. Though he’d never doubted Wayne for a second, facing up to the consequences of his actions had never been something Eddie was particularly eager to do.

Case in point, involving Chrissy was maybe a mistake.

Because she was, like, sporty and shit. And she kept dragging him out of bed in the early hours of the morning once the worst of everything was out of his system.

She’d force him into the gym room that came with the house and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never set foot in it before. But all the stuff there had clear signs of being used regularly and it was with a strange mix of sadness and glee that he figured Steve had probably been the one using it all along.

“Why am I here?”

“To get some endorphins into you without using drugs.”

Soulmate his fucking ass.

Chrissy was no less than a drill sergeant and no amount of whining and bitching would stop her from making him do stretches and get on the treadmill and god he fucking hated it. Any one who enjoyed exercising was now solidly listed under ‘psychopath’ in his brain.

Chrissy had even convinced Max to get her husband, some kind of sports health something or other, to put together a meal plan for him that had him eating shit like broccoli and apples and brown fucking rice.

Eddie did not throw a temper tantrum by day five of that diet, about a week and a half into this whole ‘getting his shit together so he could prove to Steve he was a competent human’ thing. Definitely not, even though his muscles ached and he wanted to stuff an entire Dunkin worth of Donuts into his mouth and get stupidly ridiculously high.

“Fuck off and leave me alone, Chrissy.” He snapped one morning from underneath his bedsheets. He was fucking tired, he was fucking sore and last he checked sugar wasn’t one of the addictions he was supposed to be giving up so why the fuck wasn’t he allowed to have any?

Chrissy crossed her arms. “No.”

“What’s even the point of this anyway? How the hell is the fucking broccoli and the fucking treadmill proving to Steve that I’m gonna stick around?”

“Because you’re improving yourself, taking care of yourself. Staying away from the drugs and alcohol and sex orgies and showing him you’re trying.” She sighed, softening her voice. “Didn’t you tell him you’d try every day for him?”

“Whatever.” Eddie grumbled, pulling the covers up over his head. “It’s a bed day. I’m staying in bed. Don’t try to drag me out, I will bite you.”

He could hear Chrissy leave and he knew the attitude was unnecessary, she was his rock in all of this, but he just wasn’t in the fucking mood to do anything apart from wallow.

He had dozed back off to sleep until he was awoken by someone coming up the stairs. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a tall handsome man with fantastic shoulders standing in his doorway with a box of fucking donuts in his hand.

What kind of sugar-craving wet dream was this?

The guy lifted his hand with a pleasant smile. “Hey-”

“Sorry, man. I’m off the market.” Eddie slurred in some kind of delirious half-asleep haze before his brain finally caught up with him and he realised that’s probably not what was happening right now.

The guy burst out in a short laugh. “Yeah, me too. I’m Max’s husband, Lucas.”

Eddie’s entire face went scarlet. “Oh fuck, don’t tell her I said that. She’ll cut my balls off.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said with an easy smile as he held the box out and shook it slightly. “I brought these for you.”

Lucas handed the donuts to him and even though Eddie should be wary of the quite literal candy from a stranger (although, was candy really the correct term?), the allure of fried sugar was too much.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having me eat healthy?” Eddie asked, practically diving face first into the box and stuffing as much as he could into his mouth at once. “Minoththuppothsbeowmaheawthmfifthnssjurmy?”

Lucas blinked at him and Eddie forced himself to swallow the large lump of fried dough, but not without sucking on his fingers first. “Am I not supposed to be on a health and fitness journey? Or whatever you,” he wiggled his fingers at him, “active types call it.”

"Don’t get me wrong, you still need to eat right and exercise but the meal plans I write up are usually for athletes at the top of their game. So the fact that sugar and some fats never made it in just never occurred to me. And no offence to you dude, but you are no athlete.” He smiled and tapped the box. “Everything in moderation, right?”

Things began to even out after that. The boys started to travel between Eddie’s house and their own homes, checking in on him less and less the better he got. Finally getting to spend some well deserved time with their families rather than babysitting their problematic frontman.

Wayne still stuck around. Eddie’s literal rock in everything he’d ever done in his life ever and Chrissy was no longer riding him so hard about getting the endorphins pumping.

Honestly video games could do the same thing for him but she refused to accept that.

When Steve walked back through his front door some two weeks after he’d left for a second time, he took Eddie by surprise all over again, manifesting behind him like some kind of ghost and scaring the ever loving shit out of him.

But he didn’t throw himself at Steve this time.

He didn’t have that right anymore.

The ball was in Steve’s court and he would be the one that would decide just how fast they moved from now on.

He noticed the difference in Eddie almost immediately because of course he did. Telling him off hand that he looked good, healthy. That he hadn’t looked like that since their second studio album blew up, which caused Eddie to blush furiously and hide his face behind his hair like a fucking schoolgirl and not someone who had appeared in fucking ‘Playgirl’, which he had.

Usually in his down time he would have been spending it hanging out with Steve and his weird little found family. And with Wayne, flying in between LA and Indiana and getting to remember what it felt like to just be a normal person again.

But it had also been the time Eddie would let loose and go hard into everything could. The kinds of things he couldn’t manage when on tour.

Days long sex parties, kink clubs, high quality drug dens, week long getaways to someone’s private island or luxury yacht that probably collectively took ten years off his life every time he went.

But they were a thing of the past now.

Eddie found he was kind of enjoying the slower summer getting clean afforded him. He’d started to enjoy the things he used to love so much, but lost over time.

Reading, losing himself in a writing haze, feeling the frantic passion of ideas and creativity overtaking him, and all with a clear head this time.

Days spent in his basement studio no longer fueled by cocaine and other stimulants, now only fueled by caffeine.

Before, he’d be able to go a couple of days awake in his writing haze but caffeine was no substitute for coke.

As a result of that, being under the influence of only caffeine, sugar and nicotine he usually ended up crashing on the couch down there before he even realised he was falling asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up with handwritten pages stuck to his cheek or forehead, sometimes he’d wake up with the mother of all back aches and stiff fingers. But sometimes he’d wake up with a blanket thrown over him, the ghost of a hand in his hair and a strawberry frappuccino waiting for him on the coffee table.

The downside of being lucid and sober was that Eddie was now painfully aware of his shithead behaviour over the last number of years and it constantly threatened to push him back into a spiral again.

He was actually mentally present for the first time in he didn’t know how long for a meeting with the label executives to discuss a timeline for the next album and tour. He had no idea just how much Steve had been doing for him, especially when it came to this.

Making decisions on his behalf that always benefited him far more than anything he’d have been able to negotiate himself, making excuses for why he was so out of it all the time that everyone could see through. But the execs always let it go because Corroded Coffin were one of the labels biggest bands, on of their biggest money earners and continued to be, no matter how fucked up Eddie was.

And it wasn't just meetings with execs he now had to deal with. The people refused to get the god-damn memo. The invites to all the debauched shit he usually took part in just kept coming and people actually started getting defensive whenever he refused.

No matter what he told them.

He told them he didn’t want to go. He was healing. He was off the shit that would be shared around like pass the parcel. They were down right offended to hear it. Like Eddie was somehow telling them all he was better than them by holding up a mirror towards their own actions which… maybe, yeah actually.

The only invite he had accepted was a charity fundraiser for queer homeless youth. But only with a firm stance that he would not be going to any kind of after party, so don’t even bother asking.

But it would be fine.

There’d be alcohol and probably some drugs and probably some people trying to get into his pants there but Chrissy and Steve would also be there, all but chained to his side. Gareth, Jeff and Grant would be taking up the mantle of schmoozing so it would be fine.

Plus, he was close to hitting his ninety days so he was definitely stronger than he had been at the start, right?

Yeah.

Either way, the alcohol, the drugs, the horny people… it would be the kind of shit that would be unavoidable in his line of work. So he’d have to get used to temptation being thrown in his face regardless and this would be a nice entry level experiment.

“You sure you want to do this?” Steve asked him, with an arm around his shoulder.

The return to normal touch had been gradual, happening over the last few months and it was doing wonderful things for his nerves right now. The three of them were sitting in the back of the big fancy car, stalling.

Steve flashed him a cheeky grin. “We can leave and head to the McDonalds drive-thru right now if you want.”

Eddie smiled and stopped twisting his rings around his fingers. This was an overly fancy event, probably requiring white gloves as part of the dress code but Eddie wasn’t going to start worrying about expectations like that now.

They knew who they’d invited.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” He tipped his head over until he was leaning against Steve’s shoulder and laced his fingers with Chrissy’s gloved hand. “Let’s just get this over with. Maybe we can leave before I turn back into a pumpkin, though?”

Steve smiled. “Sure thing.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head and smoothly exited the car.

It was definitely not the most intimate thing they’d ever done together in their decade long friendship but definitely the most intimate thing that they’d done in the last three months and Eddie’s stomach exploded with butterflies.

“Cinderella doesn’t turn back into a pumpkin at midnight.” Chrissy said, shaking out her large pale pink dress as she stepped out of the car after Eddie. “Are you calling yourself the carriage?”

“Yeah.” He offered her his elbow. “I have plenty of carriage.”

“Twinkie,” she shook her head, “you have no carriage. It’s a tiny little fuzzy peach butt.”

“Excuse you, it’s a pumpkin!”

She rolled her eyes and gave his ass a little pinch out of view of anyone. “It is not.”

“It’s really not, Eds.” Steve put in with a not so subtle up-and-down look.

“This is a betrayal of the highest order,” he pointed at them, “and the both of you are terrible people.”

Overall, things went pretty well.

He didn’t really have to talk to anyone, the Corroded Coffin boys as previously discussed between them, were dealing with the majority of boring ass rich people conversation and Steve had enough experience from his upbringing with his parents to deflect the most persistent of wannabe schmoozers. Eddie had been sticking only to mocktails (his favourite would always be a Shirley Temple but they had some strawberry thing which was essentially just strawberry limeade but it was fucking delicious so who gave a fuck) and some really nice non-alcoholic champagne that honestly tasted better than the regular champagne without the tang of alcohol in it.

Steve had to lead someone away, almost with a hand at their elbow when they just kept pushing for conversation. Chrissy was in a gentle discussion with a new young artist who looked like she was about to vibrate out of her skin from fear. And Eddie felt a shadow descend into the chair next to him.

He turned, still trying to suck the last dregs of his Shirley Temple out of the bottom of his glass.

The guy who sat down looked vaguely familiar, in that kind of memory signal way. His subconscious definitely knew they’d crossed paths before but that could mean anything. Maybe he’d collaborated with him in the past? Maybe he was an old supplier? Maybe he’d slept with him, who knew?

“Hi!” The guy said with a smile and dark bedroom eyes.

Well, okay.

He slid a drink towards him, cold and beading with condensation and the most beautiful amber colour.

Eddie swallowed, unable to take his eyes off of it. He picked up the edge of the white tablecloth, using it to push the drink away. He didn’t even want to risk touching it.

“I’m clean.” Eddie pretty firmly kept the now empty Shirley Temple glass up, still sucking the straw around the bottom, trying to keep a barrier between them because no thank you. Not tonight. Not ever, anymore, if life worked out the way he wanted.

The guy nodded and smiled again, a little condescending, as though Eddie’s attempt to stay sober was cute. “I've been watching you. Trying to find an opportunity to say hi.” He scoffed lightly with a raised eyebrow. An attempt at an inside joke only one of them was in on. “Your bodyguard’s got a pretty tight grip on you though. Glad he finally gave you a chance to breathe.”

“Steve’s not my bodyguard.”

Even though he could be. Has definitely had to act like it before. More than once.

God, Eddie was a shit.

“No? He’s certainly acting like it. Won’t let anyone near you. Seems a little possessive if you ask me.” The guy scooted a little further forward and started brushing his leg up and down Eddie’s calf and Eddie retracted almost immediately.

“That’s going to be a solid no from me. I’m off the market for the foreseeable future.”

The guy couldn’t hide his surprise quickly enough. “Seriously? Someone get in your head about it?” The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smug grin. “Couldn’t stop thinking of a particular night? I couldn’t stop thinking of it either. I heard you stopped making the rounds after.”

Eddie could do nothing but blink at the absolute balls on this guy. But apparently this was a one sided conversation because the guy was still talking.

“I was hoping you’d call me again.” He attempted to nudge Eddie’s knee with his hand but Eddie pulled back again with a hard glare. The guy scoffed again. “Unless, of course, your phone privileges have been taken away by the help.” He laughed at his own pathetic, mean excuse for a joke. “I think we could be quite good together, Eddie.”

“I don’t fucking think so.”

The guy pushed out his bottom lip and batted his big eyelashes at him, like Eddie’s rejection was performative, like he was playing hard to get. “Awh. That’s too bad. You marked me up so good last time.”

It was only then that it finally clicked for him. “You’re the guy from the ‘Sucker’ video.”

The guy's bravado faltered, clearly not expecting to be forgotten so easily.

“Obviously.” He bit out.

He was the last guy Eddie had slept with before everything had happened.

Steve had shown him out and left on his vacation almost immediately after.

He’d been so upset.

“What the fuck did you say to him?” Eddie hissed, finally setting his glass down.

The guy blinked with a curl at his lip. “Who?”

“Steve.”

“Oh, him?” The guy laughed, short and sharp and mean. “Not my fault if he wasn’t ready to hear some harsh truths.” He shrugged. “I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t deserve to hear. Practically did you a favour, by the way.” The guy rolled his eyes. “Just had to get it in his head that he didn’t have a shot, shooting above his pay grade and if he couldn’t handle it he should take a long walk off a short pier. Even if you did let him weasel his way back in-”

There was something shoved hard into Eddie’s chest and he only had a second to register what was happening before he had to catch Chrissy around the waist and pull her back to stop her clawing this guy's eyes out.

The purse she’d pushed at him fell to the floor as Eddie was jerked forward, using his all of his weak as shit strength to keep a firm grip on Chrissy who was always so strong with her hidden jock prowess.

“Jesus Christ, put a leash on her, would you?” The guy had fired himself backwards, nearly toppling himself out of his seat.

“You motherf-! Edward, let me go!” Chrissy was swiping at the guy with one arm while the other dug into Eddie’s arm, trying to loosen his grip.

Before he could consider whether the spectacle of Chrissy Cunningham in her pink meringue dress absolutely wrecking this guys shit would be worth the entertainment enough to let her free, a wall of bodies planted themselves firmly in her way.

“I think it’s time we head out, don’t you?” Jeff asked leaning back, trying to avoid Chrissy’s hands.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. Jesus this girl was strong. “Yeah, maybe!”

The four of them were able to manhandle Chrissy, who was still spitting and cursing, shooing her out of the front door. Eddie glanced back and saw Steve leaning down towards the guy with the sharpest smile he’d ever seen, muttering into his ear ‘He doesn’t even remember your name’ before turning and following the five of them out.

There was silence between the six of them outside, save for the sound of Chrissy’s heavy breathing, as they waited for the car to come around.

They all bundled themselves inside and once the door slammed shut Eddie exploded.

“Okay, what the hell?”

The boys were looking at him with wary expressions, Chrissy was wide eyed and a little flushed and Steve just cocked an eyebrow, well used to Eddie’s tantrums after so long. But that wasn’t what this was.

“Him? Him? I slept with him? He’s not even cute, why the hell didn’t anyone stop me?!” He pointed at each of them in turn, not even bothering to skip out Steve, the fucker would only tease him about it later.

The car started moving and Eddie took a second to send a silent apology to the very nice chauffeur, Marlon, who really shouldn’t have to be dealing with their nonsense.

“Twinkie,” Chrissy huffed, ripping her white opera gloves off, “the amount of times I have tried to slap the dick out of your hand and get you to listen to me-”

Eddie squealed, high and outraged. But he couldn’t even stay mad because Steve was doubled over cackling like a witch on her broomstick and the boys were poking fun at him while literally poking him in the sides and all he could do was slump down in his seat and pout at them with crossed arms.

They did end up going through the McDonalds drive-thru after all.

So... y'all wanna see Eddie's Playgirl cover? 👀 (minors dni)

That magnificent artwork was done by the supremely talented @sporelium and I am in fucking awe of him, like holy shit. I saw it when it was originally posted and I have not been able to stop thinking about it. Thank you so much for letting me reference it here. 😘🖤

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis, @katytheinspiredworkaholic, @littlewildflowerkitten, @hallucinatedjosten, @estrellami-1, @gregre369, @stxrcrossed186, @novelnovella, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere, @thesuninyaface, @messrs-weasley

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #fanfic #steddie fic #penny00dreadful #stranger things fic #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie #personal assistant steve #personal assistant steve harrington #modern au #somebody to love

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skzoologist · 10 months

Text

Bumping into a fan in public

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none

genre: fluff

a/n: Here you go anon deary, the first of your asks now done at last 😄Hope you like it, since I felt like these two boys didn't get enough content on my blog. And as always, feel free to drop by anytime if an idea is tickling your mind, I'll get to it eventually!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It was another day of work and practice, something that only seemed hellish from an outsider’s perspective. Idols were more than used to it, the industry and their own pride demanding it endlessly. Bae had no problem with it, only when those he cared for overworked themselves and stepped over a line they shouldn’t have.

That was why he’d been glad that day, his schedule overlapping with the others frequently, granting him the best opportunity to silently observe and care for them. This meant passing their towels and water bottles over to the members in each small break during dance practice, helping them execute a particularly tricky move, or just silently letting them cling to him when they had the chance. A comeback was breathing down their necks, the stress in the air basically palpable.

The perfect excuse for being lenient with the members and their shenanigans, caring for them silently.

Bae was watching Jeongin through the glass silently, his hands already working on mixing the sweet honey into some warm tea. Seungmin’d been enjoying the taste of his by then, only a few sips remaining in his mug as he was scrolling on his phone with an indifferent face.

The oldest member in the room’d been the first to have his singing practice, leaving Seungmin and Jeongin to have theirs later, providing their hyung ample time to get his hands on some tea and brew it up for the two. It wasn’t hard to do, since he kept some filters stashed away in the room for this exact occasion, being a regular there and all.

A little snort broke him out of his mindless stirring and staring ahead, a lit up phone entering his line of vision. It was a tiktok video, the edited face of his menace of a hyung greeting Bae back. He couldn’t help the quiet, strangled sound that left his throat, somewhere between a giggle and a cough. Nobody blamed him for it though, and certainly not Seungmin, the two quietly cackling at the short compilation.

The quiet giggles continued with every video, the two sitting next to each other, the younger letting all his weight fall onto the older.

It was peaceful, something rare amidst these chaotic days.

The door opened and both boys turned their heads towards the sound, watching their precious maknae exit the room and talk with their teacher. They only exchanged a few sentences, the young one soon joining them on the couch. Bae didn’t hesitate to gently push the still warm mug into his hands, gently smiling when he got a quiet thanks in return.

Bae went up to their teacher next, exchanging some quiet words and making plans for their next practice session. It was both a necessary and the most comfortable solution, since he could just convey the now modified plans to the young ones and let them take a small break at the same time.

Once he was done, he politely said goodbye to all the staff members, earning cheerful smiles and waves in return. He looked at the two on the couch, sat close to each other, probably watching a video from the same phone, not an unusual occurrence. The mugs were now empty and set to the side carefully, so no one would accidentally sit on them or push them onto the floor.

Just as Bae was about to go and get the mugs, fully intending to clean them, one of the staff members -a kind, middle aged lady, always willing to help- grabbed them and winked at him playfully. He froze in his spot, in disbelief, but soon he shook his head gently with a small smile dancing on his lips.

“Ready?” - his voice was quiet, yet the two young ones immediately heard it and looked up at him with a nod.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the bottom floor of the company, having made plans to eat an early dinner together at a nearby restaurant. A pleasant conversation was freely flowing between them, ranging from their just finished singing practice to movies they all enjoyed. Bae mostly watched the two in silence, only nodding and humming from behind the layers of his scarf and mask.

He always enjoyed watching them animatedly talk about something they liked, a bright light shining in their eyes captivatingly. Even when the topic of the conversation eluded him, as if he was trying to catch water with his bare hands, that fond look never escaped his face.

“Hey, Dal hyung, you wanna come over and watch some marvel movies with me and Felix hyung?” - Jeongin asked and Bae knew he could never say no to those puppy eyes.

Seungmin merely snickered behind his hand -even though his mask muffled the sound already-, amused by the quick nod his hyung gave their maknae. The older playfully glared at the puppy, both knowing that the whole dorm would join in on the movie marathon anyway, if not the whole band, regardless of their own nightly plans and wishes. Nobody could say no to Jeongin, especially when he teamed up with Felix, creating an impossible challenge filled with puppy eyes and pouty lips.

While Jeongin celebrated his victory animatedly, Bae ruffled Seungmin’s hair, earning a whine from the boy. The older’s hand was batted away, but he could tell Seungmin was just pretending to be annoyed by the lightness of his expression, eyes still as bright as ever.

Just when the small restaurant came into view -it was slightly hidden away in a narrow street, its brightly lit sign the only indication of its existence-, a meek little voice stopped them in their tracks.

Turning around, the three were met with a younger girl, form petite and small as she was anxiously fiddling with her sleeve covered hands. There was a faint dusting of pink on her cheeks, either from the chilly autumn wind, or her nervousness.

Even though he doubted there was a problem or danger, Bae still unconsciously stepped lightly before Seungmin and Jeongin, his voice soft as he prompted the girl to speak up.

“I- I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m a huge fan and, uh, I was wonderingifIcouldaskforapicture?” - her words were rushed together at the end, making it hard to understand them.

The three looked at the overly nervous girl, afraid she would worry herself sick at this rate. With a quick, shared glance, Bae stepped forward just a bit, careful not to startle her with their huge height difference.

“Sure, who did you have in mind?” - he asked as if he was talking to a startled animal, thankful that her shoulders slightly slumped down at that. “Ah, uhm, all three of you? If that wouldn’t burden you too much, of course! You’re my bias, Oppa, while Jeongin and Seungmin oppa are my bias wreckers!” - she replied, the faint colour now prominent on her faint skin.

Bae could only blink down at her with slightly widened eyes, a bit caught off-guard for a single second before he tamed his emotions and leveled his face. If he let his skin flush even a bit and showed how flustered he was, he knew his younger members would not let him live it down for at least a day or two.

Looking away from their excited fan, Jeongin and Seungmin nodded back at Bae, their eyes now crescent shaped. They all loved to meet with their fans, always glad to interact with them and take selfies with or give them an autograph. Usually those who approached them on the streets were kind and respectful, like this fan, making the experience all the more pleasant.

The four huddled together more, the petite STAY in the front, while the idols were behind her, with Bae in the middle. He was the tallest, so he was the one who took her phone and held it up, his height granting him the advantage for the perfect angle. Jeongin poked his dimples, Seungmin showed a V-sign, while Bae put up bunny ears for the puppy at the last second. His side was poked in annoyance, as subtle as Seungmin could be with the fan still in front of them.

Holding back a flinch, Bae lowered the phone and handed it back to the little STAY, watching with delight as her whole face lit up and she lightly jumped in place a few times. Catching herself, she pocketed the phone as if it was the most precious thing in her possession and bowed at them deeply, wishing them a good day and thanking them once again. The boys thanked her for her support, truly honoured to be her favourites, and waved at her leaving form.

“Did you really have to do that, Hyung?” - Seungmin’s annoyed voice could be heard, prompting Bae to step behind Jeongin and away from approaching hands.

Bae merely nodded, an unseen smile widening on his lips. Seungmin huffed, trying to circle around their confused baby bread to get to his hyung, yet to no avail.

‘Wait, what happened? Can you–” - Jeongin’s question was cut in half, the two around him too fast to follow. “Hyung, stop running away!” “Don’t want to.” “Then at least stop running around me and dragging me with you as if I’m your doll!” - Jeongin whined out desperately, having had enough of the two’s shenanigans.

Needless to say, Bae paid for the entire meal and carried the rightfully angry maknae back to their dorms. It was the only way to placate Jeongin, the ache in his muscles stronger than his dislike towards skinship.

#your other requests kinda bled through into this one ngl #hope you dont mind!#🐿️ anon #at least i think #request #stray kids #skz #stray kids oc #skz oc #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #glacial prince #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #also depression has been kicking my ass and i dunno if i can do what i've been planning for this blog

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slotumn · 2 days

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The wildest most extrapolative 3H headcanon/worldbuilding I have is that Nabateans are actually some kind of biocomputer/information storage devices who also functioned as local deities for human communities across the Fódlan in the pre-civilizational reset days.

They originally took on the form of large animals because that's what humans tend to revere + that makes it physically easy for them to help with stuff like, idk, harvests and big construction projects. They also basically store the entire history of those communities in their physical forms.

Originally, they didn't have human forms or the ability to communicate directly with humans, but they did have chosen figures who acted as intermediaries; priests, basically. The priests were given blood of the Nabateans, which enabled them to communicate with, and access the information stored in the Nabateans on behalf of their community. So these are proto-Crest systems, but unlike post-Agarthan war era, the Nabateans and Sothis hold control over granting (and taking it away, although those cases are rare). Major/minor Crests denote ranking within the priestly order, with there being only one major Crest holder at a time to lead the rest of the order.

The mechanics behind why Sothis and the Nabateans hold final control over Crests and is this:

Nabatean bones are where the history/information is stored

Nabatean blood grants authorization to read the information

Crest stone is admin access that's the key to editing the info as well as doing all the cool supernatural divine shit

And all this is relevant to why the Relics work the way they do.

(More about Nabateans as metaphor for human history under the cut)

Throughout most of (pre-Agarthan war) human civilization, this system of Nabateans + human intermediaries worked pretty well. Nabateans are the archive of human history and knowledge, their priests are its maintainers and curators. As civilization developed, humans gained (or rather developed) more and more autonomy and self-governance, while direct Sothis/Nabatean rule over them decreased. Nonetheless the Nabatean information and storage system remained because, hey, it's useful.

But it starts to creak as humans industrialize, and especially, as the information revolution occurs. More humans are literate than ever, they can communicate faster than ever, and information/data is more accessible than ever. Not everyone likes the system of Nabateans and priests anymore, seeing it as slow, inefficient, and gatekeeping.

And, most importantly, there are people taking advantage of these circumstances for their own ends— like the group that come to be known as Agarthans. They seek to use technology for the preictable things like profit, power, and immortality; and although their technological achievements were only possible thanks to the library of human knowledge and history reliably archived by the Nabatean system, they no longer see it as necessary and actually see it as the obstacle to gaining the human/material resources they need for their projects, so they start doing everything possible to discredit and destroy it.

Sothis and Nabateans don't just sit idly, of course. They too try to adapt, and Sothis giving the Nabateans humanoid forms so they can communicate directly with humans is one. But this also has its own side effects, like the priests fearing this will make them obsolete, with some even betraying them and joining the proto-Agarthans as a result— which is where they got more detailed information about the mechanisms and powers of Crests from.

Fundamentally though, the issue is that Sothis + Nabateans and the proto-Agarthans are working on a different time scale. The former plans and strategizes in generations and centuries, the latter plans and strategizes in financial quarters/election seasons/etc, which feels more approachable and "real" to other humans.

At any rate, eventually, the proto-Agarthans gain enough supporters and initiate a war across Fódlan with the goal of destroying the Nabatean archival system.

This is also why Sothis and Nabateans didn't prohibit or crack down on the proto-Agarthans growing like that. On principle there's nothing wrong with pursuing technological advancement— Sothis knows it's not a good look as goddess to suddenly butt in and crack down after centuries of assisting and blessing humans for their advancements. And the turn from "let's make some cool gadgets" to "man fuck Sothis she just gets in the way" was just too sudden for her MO. Think of how long homo sapiens has been around vs how long the internet and especially all the bullshit related to Big Data™ has been around; that's the discrepancy in the time scale we're working with.

And not everyone fell for the proto-Agarthan's shit, as a matter of fact more than half decided they still prefer Sothis and the Nabateans when push came to shove. But there still were enough proto-Agarthan supporters to do significant damage to society. Plus the proto-Agarthan leadership was willing to do whatever it took to destroy Sothis' system, no matter how many of their own supporters died, because the leadership in fact did not give a single shit about their supporters.

So yeah the war escalates and boom, great civilizational reset on Fódlan. Sothis spends most of her power making the continent not a post-apocalyptic hellhole, then she goes to sleep to recover. All the Nabateans now have humanoid forms, but most of the human communities they were supposed to be guardians of just fucking evaporated so a good majority come to Zanado and wait for Sothis to wake up. (But also there are still quite a few scattered across Fódlan living with what remains of their communities, except now in humanoid form.)

All this would have worked out well, if not for the fact the Agarthans managed to survive. And they're no longer the "proto-"Agarthans; at this point, the ones who aren't bitter/egotistic megalomaniacs have all died in the war, defected from then, or got executed internally, so they have pretty much self-selected to the worst of the worst. And they still managed to retain the information on how the Nabateans and their powers work.

Now humanity is on its second civilizational dawn, where everything is chaotic and they're still trying to figure things out, this time without Sothis helping them along. The one thing that was supposed to help is the fact the Nabateans still remain in some form— Nabateans, who are the compilations of human history and knowledge itself, now able to communicate with humans directly.

Of course the Agarthans can't let this stand because 1. fuck Sothis 2. they want to exploit the power of Sothis and the Nabateans— human history and wisdom— for themselves only. But they've suffered heavy losses from the last war, so they can't do it directly, hence they grab the closest charismatic and power-hungry dude to do the job of fucking it all up.

Cue Nemesis, the massacre at Zanado, and the Crest+Relic system as we see it in the game.

The important thing here, mechanically, is that Nemesis and the Elites not only have the Nabateans' Crests (blood, which allows reading), but also the bones (information storage) and most importantly, Crest stone (editing and other admin access shit). That's why they're so powerful, and that's why people with Crests can use matching Relics and the combat arts regardless of their proficiency in the weapon type. When someone with Nabatean blood gets their hands on those matching Nabatean bones and Crest stones, they unlock access to like... the combined proficiency and experience of their ancestors who used the weapon and the techniques. And of course they add their own experience in there as they use it, too. This is why Relics and Crests are still so powerful and coveted, even as Crested blood grows thin.

Metaphorically, this makes the Nabatean genocide and the Crest system even worse. It's like a couple of assholes barged into libraries full of thousands of years of human wisdom and artifacts, burned most of it down except the stuff they found useful which they looted, overwrote the rest to serve themselves, and completely fucks up the development of humanity on a continent for the next thousand years as a result. Of course there are still a few other libraries (Nabateans) remaining— but these libraries are sentient and they just saw the other libraries get burned the fuck down and looted, so they decided to never advertise what they were or share what they hold for (self) preservation.

Also Rhea is mentioned to be the youngest of the Nabateans Sothis (directly) made, and in the context of all this, I headcanon that she's the first and last Nabatean created from the scratch with a humanoid form. She's pretty much the Nabatean 2.0 made to counter all the bullshit the Agarthans were pulling, which is why she has a title so grand as the Immaculate One.

She's a lot more in tune with humans than the older models of Nabateans, which is how she successfully lead the Adrestian Empire against Nemesis and the Elites in the War of Heroes— but at the same time, why it's also why she's so fallible in the same way humans tend to be. As a Nabatean she is meant to be the keeper and embodiment of human history/wisdom, but after seeing what humans did with it (destroying and bastardizing them into weapons), she decided that maybe it would be better for humans to not learn of it (at least the full true versions) at all.

And that's pretty much where all the tragedy of Fódlan in 3H starts.

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #slotalks #fe3h meta #meta #fe3h worldbuilding #nabateans #agarthans #sothis #sothis fe3h #sothis fire emblem #rhea #rhea fire emblem #rhea fe3h

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