#in conversations where there's only one non-straight person
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non-un-topo · 3 months ago
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I've spent a massive amount of time with straight people this week, and I've surmised that they almost exclusively talk about the following subjects:
- Harry Potter
- Their children / future family-making plans
- Travel (always tropical or warm)
- How little they have in common with their spouse
- Sports
- Diets
- US politics (we're in Canada)
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aletterinthenameofsanity · 10 months ago
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Y'know, there's this gripe I've had for years that really frustrates me, and it has to do with Love, Simon and people joking about it and calling it too-pg and designed-for-straight-people and all the like. (A similar thing has happened to Heartstopper, but that's another conversation.)
I saw Love, Simon in theaters when it came out my senior year in high school. I saw it three times, once with my friends/parents on opening night, once with my brother over spring break, and once with my grandparents.
On opening night, the air in the room was electric. It was palpable. Half the heads in there were dyed various colors. Queer kids were holding hands. We were all crying and laughing and cheering as a group. My friends grabbed my hands at the part where Simon was outed and didn't let go until his parents were saying that they accepted him. My friend came out to me as non-binary. Another person in our group admitted that she had feelings for girls. It was incredible. I left shaking. This was the first mainstream queer romance movie that had ever been produced by one of the main five studios, and I know that sounds like another "first queer character from Disney" bit but you have to understand that even in 2018 this was groundbreaking. Getting to have a sweet queer rom-com where the main character was told that he got "to breathe now" after coming out meant so much to me and my friends.
But also, from a designed-for-straight-people POV (which, to be frank, it was written by a bisexual author and directed by a gay man, this was not designed for straight audiences), why is it a bad thing that it appealed to the widest possible audience? That it could make my parents and grandparents see things in a new light? My stepdad wasn't at all interested in rom-coms but he saw it with me because it was something I cared about and he hugged me when we came out of the theater. My very Catholic grandparents watched it with me and though my grandpa said he still didn't quite understand the whole 'gay thing,' all he wanted was for me to be happy and to have a happy ending like Simon did. My Nana actually cried when Simon came out and squeeze my hand when his mother told him he could breathe.
And when Martin blackmailed Simon, my mom, badass ally that she is, literally hissed "Dropkick him. Dropkick him in the balls" leading to multiple queer kids in the audience to laugh or smile. Having my parents there- the only parents, by the way, out of my group of queer and questioning friends- made multiple people realize that supportive adults were out there. That parents like those in Love, Simon do exist in real life.
When people complain about Heartstopper not being realistic or Love, Simon being too cutesy, I remember seeing Love, Simon on opening night. I remember my friend coming out and my stepdad hugging me and my mom defending us through this character. I remember the cheers that went through the audience when Bram and Simon kissed and the chatter in the foyer after the movie was over and the way that this movie made me understand that happy endings do exist.
Queer kids need happy endings. Straight people need entry points to becoming allies. Both of these things can come together in beautiful ways. They can find out about more queer culture later, but for now, let them have this. Let them all have a glimpse at a better, happier world. Let them have queer joy.
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genderqueerdykes · 20 days ago
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In a weird way, it feels like this is the only blog I can ask this and know that I'll get a 100% honest answer to my question, without having to worry about reading subtext. (Thank you for that) you've mentioned you don't want man hating lesbians here (valid) and if that applies here I'll back off 100% but like.
What if I specifically hate Cishet men. What if I don't take issue with queer men at all, just the cishets? Geunine question, just in case, because I know this could read as like trolling or something, and I do understand that basic language dictates yes it'd apply but I'm stupid & not sure, and I know that even if it's a harsh or brutal reply, you'll still give it to me straight. (Thank you for that too, my autistic ass struggles with subtext a lot.)
While I have reasons for feeling the way I do, I'm not sure they matter in this context. And that's okay.
i'm glad that you want to have a genuine conversation about it, i really appreciate that! the only way to learn and figure things out is to ask questions
at the end of the day, this behavior still affects queer men. cishet men can be queer- they can be intersex, aromantic, asexual, genderqueer, gender non conforming, drag artists... "cishet man" does not inherently mean someone who is not queer. there are many ways to be queer outside of being gay, bisexual, and/or trans. and even then, this behavior gets dangerous fast because strangers you perceive to be cishet men very well can be anything but that. someone you clock to be a cishet man may be a closeted trans girl, a trans man, a non binary person, a butch lesbian, and so on. you treating that person like they're an inherent danger causes a whole host of issues
this attitude is also why trans men, trans women, and non binary people are being forcefully removed from queer communities. if a queer person reads or passes as a "cishet man," they are treated with hostility and asked to leave in a lot of cases. we cannot allow the concept of manhood and perceived manhood to be viewed as something to be avoided and cast out, because it affects so much more than just cishet men. this attitude affects a LOT of closeted and non-passing trans women. honestly, that's who this hurts the most. it hurts trans men and enbies, but it really hurts trans women. it creates a standard where they have to overperform femininity and womanhood in order to be seen as "safe", and it's not okay.
projecting your issues with a small handful of people on to an entire group does not help. you have not been harmed by the concept of cishet men- you have been harmed by specific cishet men. in permanently labeling cishet men as bad people, this creates an ultimatum where they can never improve. hating them by virtue of them being cishet men creates a standard that cishet men will ALWAYS be terrible, and that they can't improve or learn. this creates an environment where no one challenges these behaviors and it makes the cycle even more toxic and abusive
it's okay to not want to spend time with cishet men, but saying that you hate all cishet men really isn't a good look. it's not the way to go about living a happy life. assuming that every single cishet man on this planet will hurt you or be a bad person strictly by virtue of being a cishet man is exactly what cishets do to us. this is how queerphobic cishet people look at trans women. there's no reason to do it back. we have to learn not to stereotype entire groups of people, no matter who they are
the concept of cishet men has never hurt you, and it never will. cishet men are not your enemy- patriarchy is. not every single cishet man benefits from patriarchy, either. intersex men, men of color, gender non conforming men, ace men and aro men are treated like absolute shit for not conforming to the toxic masculinity that patriarchy pushes. patriarchy also harms men- we must stand alongside men who are being chewed up and spat out by this machine. cishet men are not inherently bad people- we are grooming boys and men to be hostile, emotionally closed off, and violent. this is not an inherent trait of cishet men, but rather a societal issue
i hope that makes sense! in general it just really sucks to stereotype an entire group of people. it doesn't help anyone. the concept of cishet manhood hasn't hurt you and it never will. cishet men can still be allies. i've had lots of cishet male friends who weren't transphobic or even homophobic. the first person in my irl life to switch to using my proper pronouns at the time was a cishet man. he never screwed up my pronouns once, he never questioned my gender identity. cishet man does not mean inherently violent, dangerous, and evil. the more we teach men that they don't have to be this way, the more they will follow.
hope that helps! take care!
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nanenna · 1 month ago
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Jeez Louise This is a Mess
Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post
Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.
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John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.
John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”
Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”
“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.
“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”
Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.
The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.
“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.
“You would think so.”
The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…
“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”
“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.
“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”
“Will that work?”
“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”
Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.
Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.
“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”
“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”
“You don't know who I am?”
“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”
“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”
“Then what do they call you?”
“How about you tell me your name first?”
“I’m Deadman.”
The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”
“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.
“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”
The Fentons all shook their heads.
The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”
“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”
“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”
Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.
It did… well not much.
Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.
Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”
John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?
“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.
“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”
And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.
“What did you do?!”
“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”
“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.
Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.
Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.
“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.
The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.
John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”
The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”
For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.
Everyone was staring at the display.
“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.
“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.
“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”
“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”
“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”
“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.
“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”
And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”
“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.
“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.
“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.
“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.
“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”
“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.
“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”
Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.
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prettyboykatsuki · 7 months ago
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I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU CAN'T KEEP WARM | ODXNY
✮ tags ; heavy themes, gender neutral reader, mentions of past suicidal ideation, getting together, romantic tension, angst to fluff, extremely lovey-dovey ending, some implicit and suggestive content (lit one paragraph n non descript), themes of touch starvation, small height difference (reader is shorter)
✮ wc ; 6.3k (this is so shameful bye forever)
✮ a/n ; every time a semester ends i lose my mind and me writing this in several hours straight is evidence. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a character study with the central theme of loneliness, i'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
i will spare you the insane rambling for the authors note at the bottom of this fic.
✮ synopsis ; he wants something. to live maybe. and if he could be a little selfish, to be with you. he wants that, too.
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Bright.
Could just be the dark room he keeps himself in talking. His computer system and encrypted Internet browsers are all in dark mode - and his desktop set-up doesn’t have any L.E.D. strip lights to keep him company. He prefers it that way, the ambiance a better environment to work in  when he’s doing his usual rounds. Down to the programs U.I. - Odxny spends most of his time in perpetual darkness. Cozy and familiar - totally safe and secure. Nothing but the low whirrs of a computers fan and the faint blinking of routers to keep him company.
You’re the brightest thing he’s had on his screen in a long time. You’ve got white walls and no precaution, really. You’re sitting at your own desktop - and he can see everything of your life in the background of where you sit. There are photos of you graduating high school, being around unnamed friends, vacations and trips, and head shots like the kind you take for a resume. It’s all so personal. Bookshelves, trinkets, poorly made clay sculptures. Posters of musicians you like and Studio Ghibli movies. Evidence of life surrounds you like a halo.
Awful. Angel comparisons to someone he’s only known for a day make him wonder if he’s more pathetic than he thought. He probably shouldn’t think so hard about a stranger, a real stranger. Thrim generated randomly, though he thinks it sounds like a name. Finds it fun to say, for better or worse.
Natural light pours in from a window nearby, casting shadows in your room. He already knows you, in a way. He did the background search. Where you were born, raised, grew up.  The schools you went too, the career you seek. Bits and pieces of you are all scattered in his memory and are not at all thorough. He wasn’t really trying for that at the time, just needed to know if you were dangerous. There’s a cognitive dissonance. To know a life so thoroughly and to witness it is completely, and utterly different.
There’s miles between you. Must be thousands. He can’t remember the last time he’s really met someone, though. It’s hard not to notice that this feels akin to that. Like the embers of a campfire, glowing but not burning. A comfortable warmth.
Bright. His screen is very bright talking to you. Even obscured behind the mask, it’s a little difficult to look at it and leaves him on edge - restless and mildly painful.
When his vision adjusts though, there’s clarity. A person, a stranger - with an exceptionally nice laugh and who is exceptionally trusting. Odxny tries not to think too hard about the feeling of warmth that flutters at your overflowing sincerity.
The conversation is easy.
“Does that mean you trust me now?”
Odxny pretends to think on it. “Enough to keep you around.”
“See you later.”
“See you.”
You accompany your last words with a wave - short and sweet. Darkness pulls him in, back where he started. He has a mild headache from all the light.
__
You pick up on the language better than he thought you would.
He underestimated you. Can you blame him? Your choice is language is ArnoldC, for fucksake. Sure, he has limited knowledge on esoteric languages but can it really be in-depth enough to show you the basics.
(It can. Or at least, Od presumes this to be the case because you’re rather helpful in Incri’s hacks and Incri is hardly helpful to anyone in the world, no less the server.)
You pick up on things quickly with little guidance - always to the point and not usually making many errors. He has to commend your abilities and give you credit where it’s due. It’s not a hard language to learn, but for anyone with no familiarity with coding at all he’d expect there to be a learning curve. Even if you had coding language, it’s not like you knew SQL coming in.
You fit strangely well into the server somehow. You’re happy to learn and nonplussed about helping with small things, though you don’t know these people at all and have no reason to participate in their nonsense. You talk to Incri fine, and manage to get Pep to accidentally reveal telling information. Odxny finds all of this rather… entertaining maybe. More than impressive, really.
He has a hard time making sense of the feeling. He would hope you don’t think you’re under duress - given the fact your relationship in two days has been pleasant. Then again - maybe he’s missed some social cue and you do think that. It’s possible. After all, he doesn’t actually remember the last time he’s spoken verbally to anyone with very, very few exceptions.
He manages to call you again after the fact - opens the call with sincere and heartfelt congrats and feels pleasant seeing you take the compliment in stride.
You land on the subject of programming again, inevitably. He interrogates you a little more over your choice in language - almost like he can’t help himself. It’s basic curiosity. You had said you were the best in ArnoldC. A little research proved that to be true, presence of you in the forums of various esolang pages. He landed on many things. You’re the best at ArnoldC, but you also know Brainfuck for some ridiculous reason.
He thinks you’re a little ridiculous in general.
“It’s really for the love of the game, huh?”
You nod when he asks this. Smiling, bright and unbothered with a soft edge of smug pride that makes the muscles of his face twitch up. “Mhm. I like my little collection.
Odxny doesn’t doubt it for even a minute. He’s seen the proof, but perhaps he doesn’t need to mention that. “Your trophy case of ridiculous language?”
Your eyes come to life all of a sudden. “Wait. A real trophy case would actually be so cool.”
He pauses, blinking as the words sink before a smile breaks onto his face helplessly. “That was not to enable you.”
“Too late. I’m already looking up the ugliest wood trim display cases I can find.”
The laugh comes naturally. “You really are just like this?”
You look proud again. “What? Fun?”
Yes, Odxny thinks but doesn’t say. “Baffling.”
You ask Odxny to elaborate and he does. The conversation flows with frustrating ease. So easily that he mouths off about his plans to you without a second thought. He doesn’t know why he does it. Not really. He’s thought it through over and over - so it’s not like he needs to disclose it. He made his choice.
He thinks about moving it along. About ending the call or simply brushing past without going into any detail.
When he glances at the screen, you’ve got a pillow in your lap and your eyes completely focused on him. There’s that feeling again, alarming clarity in your gaze and brightness that causes him immense unease in the world he’s made of nihilistic, apathetic darkness. There’s a plan, always has been. He’ll do this and disappear and the world will soon forget him. If it happens that way, than at least this loneliness is a choice he’s made for himself and not something the world has cruelly decided for him.
His lips move faster than his head, than even his heart. Compelled by a nameless and brilliant force. “I don’t have any reason to stay. I’m just — tired. Of everything.”
“No reasons? Nothing makes you happy here?”
His response is measured. Quiet. It’s not secret. He finds his voice crumbles around the words anyway as if they’re a confession. “Not for a long time. I don’t feel much of anything, really. It is what it is.”
You frown. He’s seen it all before. Heard it all before. “That’s…”
He cuts you off quickly.
“We just met. And we’ll be strangers again soon enough.” He says with as much conviction and resolve as he can possible manage. Who he’s convincing remains unclear. “So, not to be cold but..you know.”
The disappointment in your face leaves an impression, but you relent. He tries to make amends for the depressing conversation of talking again and you perk up so genuinely it makes want to cry, in a distant and foreign way.
“Catch you later, then.” He says, and closes at out the call. The room falls dark for the second time. He blinks a few times to get rid of the light clouding his vision.
__
Wnpep is eager to teach you on the third day.
You’re eager in reply - matching energy with sharp wit and enthusiasm. Wnepep is a better teacher than Incri by several miles. Evident in how much faster everything falls into place for you. Not that you really need too much help in the first place. You break down the crumbling walls of an insurance scam with ease and come out of the other side more accomplished.
It’s a noble last hack, Odxny thinks.  Not unsurprising from Pep - unofficially the most sane and likeable member. He figured it’d be something like this less than a matter of personal vengeance.
You go back and forth for a bit in admin chat. Od types an apology about winding you up and tries not to read too much into the innuendo of it as you reply back with your own faux offended replies. He insists he’s somewhat sorry, and you’re far from believing him.
He finds himself grinning at his screen while he texts you mid conversation. When the realization hits, he almost curls into himself from embarrassment - a hand covering his mouth like it’ll do away with the grave sin.
The inneundo happens twice in one conversation, before you get to call under the premise of a victory toast.
A brief conversation about the last hacks barely leaves room for much else except Odxny plans of total isolation.
“Mm. I should’ve known it would come back to this. Why do you care what I choose to do with myself?”
That baffles you in a terribly genuine way. “Am I not allowed to care about another person?”
Odxny speaks honestly. “You are but I mean…” He trails off. He knows how he feels. “I’m not really a person anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m no one. I’m going to be no one. You have other things to fill your life with.”
There’s a vulnerable edge to his voice that he winces at when he hears it. It’s true isn’t it? All of it is true to Odxny, but especially where he says you have other things to fill your life with. You might share the same hobbies, but he’s seen it. He’s seen how different you are - your livelihoods, your existence. You’d be missed if you suddenly disappeared. Odxny knows the same isn’t true for himself. It’s been like that for a long while now.
(It’s crushing. That’s what makes your very ephemeral existence feel like a burden. Why it casts the shadows of doubt on choices he made, about how he would live so long ago. You care, don’t you? At least, more than anyone else in his life in the present. You care so undeniably, and so obviously and it is all so simple to you.
He almost envies it. Almost resents it, too. It’s such a small shred of humanity, the barest forms of sincerity but it is painfully raw. A split nerve. An open wound It’s not like the server, all of whom have accepted this distant fondness. It’s a delicate thread - spider silk accuracy and just as much strength. There’s conviction in your missing him and it haunts him.)
You think of what to say for a long time before landing on it. “I do. But I can care about multiple things at once,”
It sounds like I care about you too closely. He finds himself shivering. He’s truthful with you, unsure of how else to be when it comes to these conversations.
“That sounds burdensome.” He says. “Isn’t that exhausting?”
You don’t lie to him either. “Sometimes. But it’s worth the trouble.”
“Why?”
“Because I like your company,” You reply. Soft sincerity in your words. More clarity. More painstaking light.
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Why not?”
“If it was that simple then -“ Then it makes it seem like things could be different. He doesn’t say that. Stops himself before it can happen. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. Why do I feel like I need to prove this to you?”
He’s almost afraid to look at your face, wincing when he sees how knowing you look. Not in a condescending way - but genuine, full blown understanding. Like you see through him.
He wonders if he knows you as well as he thought he did.
Your face is so sympathetic. “Are you sure it’s me?”
He cuts the conversation short on his own - making an awkward transition from the topic at hand into whatever he can manage. It’s an awkward fumble - a poor attempt at distracting both of you from this line of thinking. You’re kind enough to let him have it. He asks about your hobbies. You tell him about how you like to try the weirdest things and combinations you can find in a restaurant.
He finds it suits you.
A lot of things suit you. Even your piss poor attempt at the Terminator that he quickly mimics - possessed by god knows what.
You laugh when he does. Brilliant and bubbly and characteristically warm. You say the words through giggles.
“That was so bad!”
“It was a lapse in judgment,” He replies back defensively, smiling against his will. He finds himself laughing too.
“I like your laugh, by the way.”
He pauses caught off-guard. “Oh? My laugh. Oh, uhm. Thank you.”
You make a face that he can’t read. Knowing. In a different way than the last. He feels nervous.
“I have been laughing quite a bit, haven’t I?”
You grin. Smug and deliriously happy. “Sure have.”
He looks away from you. “Ha...Odd.”
You giggle again. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunched in genuine delight. It’s a pleasant sound but not because it’s particularly wispy or floaty or delicate. But it’s real. Pleasant in the way the white noise of park during summer. Pleasant like the varied playlist overhead in a record shop. Pleasant like a moment of humanity tucked between everyday. He clears his throat.
“I like your laugh, I think.”
You laugh again, gasping with faux offense. “You think???”
He tries not to feel so grounded by that sound and fails. “Yeah. I think. Laugh again.”
He tries not to add please. You shake your head like you’re reprimanding him.
“No, no, you have to earn that. Make me laugh.”
“Nevermind. Shut up.”
You do laugh again that time. He joins you soon after. “And now you laugh? At me?”
The conversation moves again, comfortable like a tide. You ask about his favorite language and he tells you as much. You’re quiet and growing cheeky, listening to him talk.
“So you do like coding.”
“Maybe a little.” He replies, not giving in. “You remember far too much of what I say.”
The conversation comes to a close again. He thanks you for how nice its been and you make an off-handed attempt to get him to change his mind. You could always talk more. The implication delicate beneath it.
We don’t have to forget each other. Odxny brushes past it - but says he’ll see you tomorrow anyway.
__
Extorting Elimfs childhood friend (?) is an easy enough endeavor. Odxny texts you through out - to ask advice on what things to take when he leaves.
He calls you again when its over too. He can’t find a reason for it - nothing that makes sense. He just wanted to call you. He hasn’t wanted something like that in a while,  but he tells himself its fine. This is the last time you’ll ever know each other.
So its fine. He won’t waver.
He’ll just.. call you.
He asks you on your weed habits, mildly surprised when you tell him you smoke and take edibles sometimes too. The conversation loops back to the fund at one point. You don’t hide your displeasure about the whole thing today.
You’ve talked about it already. No need to keep bringing up. But you seem to feel so strongly and Odxny can’t figure out why. Can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know why every single time.
“Is it really so hard to believe I’ve come to like you in a few days?”  You ask, after probing.
“In a way that matters, yes.”
You frown at him when he says that. It’s the most upset he’s seen you look, if he can call it that. You’ve never been upset when he’s been rude or insulting - but this is bothering you. It doesn’t help him pull away from you.
He says it again. Reinforces how temporary this all is. He’s trying to convince one of you. Both of you, maybe, of his unimportance.
“I don’t think that little of you.”
He finds it hard to reply to that. It’s that feeling against. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not empty platitudes or some vague sense of responsibility for his life. All of it is real, and all of it is meaningful in how plain it is. You make it seem easy.
“It’s life. It’s normal. People come, people go.”
You shake your head. “Not for me. I can’t forget you that easily.”
He wishes you would. He’s painfully, painfully relieved that you wouldn’t it. He voices neither thought.
“Then- try! You’re putting so much on yourself, and for what? You don’t stand to gain anything.”
You shrug. “Peace of mind. Knowing you’re still out there.”
It’s heavy. The implication is heavy. He’s not going to kill himself. He doesn’t want that anymore, though he thought about it. At the beginning. Loneliness is more painful when you have memories of what not being that way was like - he thinks. At the start of all that loss, the hollowness bared an almost painful gravity inside of him.
It’s like being told to breathe or blink - becoming conscious of what was once a natural function, how full life was once when it’s escaped. He doesn’t want to kill himself, but living is meaningless.
 These things aren’t paradoxical to him. They haven’t been for all this time.
(They weren’t until he met you at least. A mirror of wanting. Odxny looks at you and sees life reflected back. Despite it not being his, its moving. It’s beautiful in a human way, reachable. Tangible. Earned.
Wherever you are. Whenever you’re together, the black hole inside of himself seems to fade back into average planetary darkness. He becomes cruelly human again, feeling warmth and laughter.
He’s tells himself he’s not afraid of dying and that’s mostly true. He’s most afraid of living. Afraid he won’t be able to learn it again.)
 He manages to tell you some of what he’s thinking. He has no clue how to start over. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. You don’t feed him any false hope, but he tells you how he sees it. You’re feeling pity for him right? And you should figure that out sooner rather than later.
“Is it really that easy for you?”
You shake your head. You’re smiling but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It isn’t. But I have to try.”
“Is that what you’re doing with me?”
“What?”
“Is this…?”
He cuts the call off when he hears himself, unsure of what answer he’s hoping for. The realization dawns on him too much, too quickly. The feeling of hope is loud in his chest but there is another feeling, embarrassing in it’s swiftness that follows shortly after.
Oh.
Oh.
__
The servers shuts down after a mildly sappy adventure to close up shop. The closest Odxny has gotten to flirting with you in his own way. He’s sad to see everyone go, despite there being no other choice.
It’s easier than he thought it’d be. To give you his number he means, even after shutting the entire server down. After leaving everything behind. He gives you the choice to make. Call me if you still want it - a silent promise.
 Maybe because deep down - some part of him always wanted to make this choice. Just maybe.
Your voice is different over the phone line. A little clearer, spoken softer. Just as lovely as it was the first time he heard it. Maybe more. Maybe.
The city beneath him is bright. So bright. It doesn’t hurt to look at, he thinks.
__
You call him every day.
You’ve been doing it for months.
He thought, at some point, you’d let up or start to forget. He’s been waiting on it to happen as horrible as it sounds. Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he’d slip back into the background as is natural. A proof of his nonexistence, if you will.
You don’t forget though. He almost wonders if he’s dreaming when it happens. There’s a routine between you two, these days. You have your own life that you’ve been living the same as normal. When it’s night time for you, though - you hop onto your desktop and call Od like you’re two very average people.
There’s nothing solid to define your relationship aside from friendship as is. This is less frustrating than he expected it to be. Getting to know you better has only made him like you more. Your relationship is solid in a strange way. It’s been about six months total, and as corny as it sounds - Odxny feels like he’s known you for his entire life. You understand him in an intimate way, with vulnerable tenderness and radical acceptance.
He kind of misses the privacy of his old stomping grounds, but he doesn’t mind speaking though discord. It feels… normal. In a not displeasing way. You mostly talk to talk about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s your job search, other times it’s  your part-time or friend drama. You’re vibrant as always. Without the wall of anonymity, Odxny gets to know of you like he’s just your average person. He finds he really, really likes that.
You play games together frequently. He’s never been interested in cozy gaming, but you play Minecraft and Stardew Valley together per your request. Odxny streams himself playing Ocarina of Time for you on Discord in the background sometimes too, and you keep it on when you’ve got work to do or you’re cooking or something else. There’s something very mundane to it.
You’re not doing anything with him today though. You’re calling him on facetime, rather than at your desktop. You’ve made the executive decision to laze around and Odxny has no problem joining you though you speak less than usual as a result of being sleepy. You had a long shift yesterday so perhaps Odxny can’t blame you.
“Need to get better shoes. For walking and stuff.” You say thoughtlessly. The corners of his lips twitch up.
“Yeah?”
You nod. Your face is smushed against your pillow at an unflattering angle. He smiles a little.
“Yeah. I’m on my feet for like nine hours when I serve and it hurts wearing flats. Need something sturdier even it diminishes my drip.”
He laughs at that. “Please never say that again.”
You continue onwards. “Decreases my aura, even. But alas, utility comes first.”
He snickers as he glances at you through the phone. You’re propped against one of his monitors as he does work on his computer. He’s getting back into programming for the love of the game, just seeing what he can do.
“Want help looking?”
“Feels a little ridiculous asking a super pro-hacker to shop Sketchers with me.”
“You seriously thinking of buying Sketchers?”
You laugh lightly. “Maybe I’ll get tipped more if I get the light-up ones.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hater.”
You break out into genuine laughter as Odxny shakes his head in despair. It’s something you’d do, no doubt. You sigh.
“I really do want a break from work.” You roll around on your mattress. Odxny can hear your rustling but can’t see you much. “The chains of capitalism shackle me in place. Woe is me.”
Odxny thinks on what you’ve said for a long while in silence. The question comes up every now and again though he’s never brave enough to ask it. His ludicrous amount of disposable income however is still sitting in his bank, collecting dust. It’s been six months and he’s hardly made a dent in it.
“Do you want to come visit?” He asks, cringing at the sound of his own voice. The words are strained and a little too eager. “I can pay the difference for expenses for wages and stuff. And, uh. Uhm,”
He loses his train of thought trying to speak, worsened by the way you pop onto his screen when he says that. Your expression is unreadable to him, comfortable and even. You smile a little as you lift the phone so he can see what you look like laying in your bed. Your face is in full view.
“It’d be a little weird to visit you before we start dating officially, no?”
His eyes go wide at the implication. You grin, mischief and mirth making your eyes practically beam. He can feel a blush crawl up his neck as soon as he registers it.
“Excuse me? Why are you saying that like it’s already been decided?” He bites back, not sure what else he could say.
“So you don’t want to date me?”
“I didn’t- you - damn it,” He groans at his own bluster as he giggles on the other side of the line. So cheeky. Damn him for liking it and damn you for being cute. “…You are saying you like me right?”
Your face softens. He can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Uh-huh. Just wanted to take it slow. But I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“How long is that, exactly?”
You shrug playfully and the fact he can’t be within reach to kiss you feels especially harrowing. “A secret.” You smile again, all trouble. “So. Wanna date?”
“Terrible confession. Zero stars,” He says petulantly. He leans back in his chair and finds himself smiling uncontrollably. “Fine. I guess.”
Your laugh fills his room. He doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His face hurts from smiling.
__
He manages to stave off on the anxiety of you coming to see him for a lot longer than he thought possible.
Making arrangements proves to be a little difficult. You have to tell your roommates that you’ll be gone for a while but promise to still pay rent and explain to your boss where you’re going. You have a good enough relationship and have been working long enough for them to agree to keep a spot open so you can start working when you come back.
After that, there’s the matter of Visas. Odxny goes out of his way to make that process go much faster than normal, though he doesn’t actually tell you. Once all of that’s sorted, there’s living arrangements. Try as you might to insist to live somewhere else, his place is too spacious for him to let you stay anywhere else. You can take the guest room.
He pretends that all of this is just happening in his imagination. He doesn’t even know the last time anyone came over, let alone lived with him. He does his best to make things presentable, and makes a guest room for you to live in should you desire. He even buys more decor (plants and things) to make it look… less like a cave and more like a home.
Nothing really feels real until the day arrives though. It’s a long flight and difficult trip. You refused to let him pay for the tickets so he moved it around to get you into first class both ways through other methods.
You text him the terminal, the arrival time, any and all delays. Still. None of it feels real until he’s already waiting for you near the bags. He can feel his heart race, his lungs short of air. He’s never experienced something so ridiculously contradictory in his entire life. He wants to run away while feeling stuck in place.
The anticipation nearly kills him.
He would recognize your voice anywhere though. Like he did for so many days alone in the dark. A hand waves high, shouting as loud as it can.
“It’s you!”
The sound of sneakers skidding across tile floors make his breath hitch. His eyes go wide as you stand still in front of him, luggage in hand and a million-watt smile on your face. He feels his heart beat so loud, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.
“Hey.” He says, dumbly.
“Hi!”
__
The adjustment period to living together isn’t what he expects.
It’s been a long time since he’s been so close to another human being. It becomes clear that you’re really living together though when your things end up in the bathroom completely incidentally. There’s something about finding your sleep shirt on a towel rack that makes reality settle in. You’re living together.
He’d be stupid not to notice the purposeful distance between you. An attempt to be thoughtful and not overwhelm him. It’s never awkward when you’re together. You eat together, watch movies and play games while sitting too close on the couch. You’ve been on a date in the two weeks you’ve spent, and it barely took any convincing on your end to make him go along with you.
Isolation aside though, Odxny is not clueless to the conventions of modern dating. You avoid touching him too casually. He doesn’t blame you, but he can’t help but crave your presence with a little more bittersweet longing as the days pass. He has to get past it or bring it up eventually, but it feels like something he’s never going to get over somehow.
The opportunity to do so gets thrown at him all at once. You’ve been living together for sixteen days. A conversation about love languages is what undoes it.
“Whats your love language, Od?”
He gives you a quizzical look. “Dunno actually. Never bothered to look.”
“I’d guess… hm. Quality time maybe? Or words of affirmation.”
He shrugs as he sits next to you on the couch, glancing at your phone as you read through the different ones. “What’s yours?”
“Physical touch. I’m super touchy. With anyone who will let me, honestly. Bad habits.”
Odxny gives you a long look as you say it. He debates if he should bring it up.
“You don’t have to be so careful around me, you know?”
You look up at him, startled by the comment. Several things pass over your face before you settle on an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not like I don’t want to. I just don’t want to be too much for you.”
“That wouldn’t happen.” He says automatically. You laugh good-naturedly.
“Your confidence is assuring, but you underestimate how touchy I am. I’m afraid of I get my hands on you, I’ll never let go again,”
He thinks he wants that more than is normal. He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”
You give him a long look, seeming struck by an idea, before humming and standing up. You turn around with your hand out towards him. His brows furrow in bewilderment.
“Have some faith.”
He takes your hand and stands up with you. He likes that he’s taller than you. Staring at you, he feels your fingers clasp around his hand and his heart thuds - loud and messy.
“Your room or mine?”
“What?”
You laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don’t actually, but I don’t bear lewd intentions.”
He crinkles his nose at the word usage and laughs. “Shut up.”
“Just trust me, okay?”
He concedes with embarassing swiftness.
“Okay.”
__
You lead Odxny to the guest room you’ve been living in for the last two weeks. The bed is well-made and all the new furniture he bought is occupying so many of your belongings. It makes him dizzy. You shut the door behind him as you lead him in. It just feels especially surreal.
Wordless, you let go of his hand and hop up onto your bed. Once you’re laying down, you prop up on your side with your elbow and pat the empty space next to you, smiling at him as you do. Once it clicks what your asking, he can feel his face grow hot. He can’t refuse it though, and he doesn’t want too.
The sheets you bought together smell like you. Between there’s practically no distance between you at this angle. He’s gotten to look at you plenty through these few days but it’s different. You scoot impossibly close to him until there’s nothing separating you.
Your breath is warm - a soft exhale leaving your lips as you inch closer.
“What’re we doing?” He asks in a murmur, stone stiff. You smile, coyly.
“Touching each other.”
He frowns at the joke. Your expression goes a touch serious right after. The sincerity is debilitating. “Can I touch you?”
He nods. Can’t do much more than that.
He stares at you with impending, long-suffering longing as you bring a single hand to his face and cradle his neck. He flinches unintentionally, but pulls your hand back when you try to move it. He wants this. You relax a little when he does that.
Your hands are softer. Softer than a heartbeat. He can feel the various cuts and scars from years of working against his skin but they’re still so soft. He can feel how warm you in such a brief touch his chest aches. Your hands cradle his face tenderly, thumb brushing across his lip with a smile brighter than thousands of lights. Something in your expression wreaks havoc on his heart. Something so raw and so gentle and so full within it - all directed towards him.
It’s been so long. So long. He’s never wanted something so bad  he couldn’t remember needing. He’s never wanted to be closer to someone than he does to you in the moment.
“You’re handsome,” You say, so sweetly. Not a confession, but gentle appraisal. It’s rare he cries but he wants too. “I like looking at you. Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” He rasps, gravel in his voice unfamiliar.
You hum a little. Closing the space between you with a press of lips. It’s not chaste. Odxny is grateful for how long and how deep you linger. He wants it so badly. He wants you in some damning and unforgiving way. How could a human being feel so warm? Feel so pleasant with so little?
You press your foreheads together. His hand trembles when they grip onto your waist but you encourage him just a little. It’s just a kiss. His heart might beat out of him. It’s just a kiss. He thinks he loves you.
Your hand moves away from his face. You let it go underneath his loose shirt to touch his shoulder, running your palm down the plane of his chest. You squeeze his waist, and wrap your arms around his back and pull him to you until your bodies touch somewhere in the middle.
You guide his face to your neck and chest as you hold him. He grips onto you tight in response, a gasp in the back of his lungs at the sudden sensation. You coo above him, soft and light - your fingers threading through his hair and nails massaging his scalp.
Your voice sounds above him, despite how deep in a haze he is. He can’t do anything but cling to you with impossible longing. You speak softly as you pet him. Your heartbeat soothes his.
“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him. There’s that familiar clarity that makes him want to cry. “I’m glad you let me come with you.”
He can’t think of anything to say back. It’s a soul-shattering emotion. “I love you.”
You laugh wetly above him. “I love you, too. So much.” And then much softer. “Let’s be together for a long time.”
__
You lay in each others arms until sunset. In small talk and silent murmurs. It takes him hours to work up the courage to kiss you again - but only minutes to take it further.
It’s desperate. Terribly. Inevitable. You’re beautiful in a way that is undescribable, best expressed through his teeth on your neck and his hands all over where he can reach - each grip and thrust and bite a reminder. You’re pretty when you’re pleased, warmth reaching up inside of him whenever you make the right face.
He buries himself in you. You’re soft and warm and beautiful and he wants to stay with you. Time is a thief. He damns the sun when it tears you from him come morning.
__
He decides to make breakfast when you wake up. Nothing complicated. You go to shower after him and he plates up toast and eggs and other various things. It’s half done when you come downstairs.
Your skin is still damp, and you smell of vanilla and soap. Your coffee sits in a cup on the table as you pad over to him. He turns to look at you as you reach your hand up and cup his face. You pepper a kisses along his cheeks stopping at his lips for the last one before you’re satisfied.
He fails in his attempt not to blush.
“Morning.” You grin. He tries not to be sick at the domesticity of it all and fails.
“Yeah. Morning.”
You sit at the counter and drink your coffee, glancing outside the window. “It’s bright outside.”
Odxny can’t tear his eyes off of you. “Yeah...” He agrees. He’s not torn his gaze away. “Very bright.”
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✮ a/n ; i want all real life compsci men to kick rocks but odxny sweeped me off my feet in a way i can only describe as humiliating. he is a bit like astarion for me in that i see a lot of myself in him at least in the past. he is also incredibly babygirl and uhm . other things (fine. he's very gorjus.) but i truthfully was most compelled by his idealized idea of isolation. as the fic will show it resonated with me as a fellow compsci dork who also tends to isolate like crazy LOL
this fic was like a demon that possessed me. literally no meds, no caffiene - just balls to the wall demonic possesion of needing something out of my system LMAOO. and adhd of course. im working on all the other stuff too i promise. consider this a short interlude 👍🏾
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forgeofthenine · 1 year ago
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Can I request headcanons for how Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor would react if their gn crush (non tiefling) just asked him why their tail sways so much?
Great request Anon, I love writing about tiefling body language and this was a very fun prompt. I hope you enjoy :)
The bachelors being asked why their tail sways so much
Dammon
It seems like every time you see Dammon his tail is sweeping from side to side
As soon as you ask he gets this adorable blush on his face, breaking out in an embarrassed chuckle
He's definitely embarrassed about being caught but he's very good natured about the situation
Dammon is the type to rub the back of his neck because he feels it warming up with a blush, it's a very endearing sight
He's the most open about his feelings though, Dammon has no issues saying he's interested in you
As the two of you talk you'll notice his tail starts to move again, swaying idly behind him
You'll get a laugh out of him if you point it out
Honestly, the only end to this conversation is that the two of you now have a planned date
Please continue to tease Dammon for wagging his tail around you, he never stops doing it
Zevlor
This distinguished gentleman likes to think he has a good control over himself and his tail
He's very much just in denial about the second part
It's obvious to any other person that his tail is quite happily swaying and curling behind him
As soon as you ask generally about what tiefling tail movements mean, not why he specifically moves his tail, then he'll absolutely explain
It's when he mentions the curling and sweeping motions tieflings often make while pining for someone that things become obvious
That's the perfect time to ask if how his tail moves when you're around is a good example
You can see the exact moment the lightbulb goes off in his head
Zevlor is incredibly embarrassed, but now you know he'll absolutely tell you about his feelings
He's very sincere, the type to hold one of your hands in both of his as he asks to court you
Rolan
Cal and Lia snigger every time you come to speak to Rolan
It's confusing at first, but no one gives you a straight answer if you ask
What's even more confusing is why he's always curling his tail when you're nearby, and if it's not doing that then it's sweeping side to side
When you and Rolan are together in his private study is the best time to bring it up
He's reaching for a book on his bookcase, turned away from you, when you ask the question
You can see how his whole body goes rigid right away
His tail stops in the middle of it curling, even
When he turns to look at you Rolans whole face is covered in a blush, he doesn't quite know where to look either
Despite how good he is with words, it takes him a while to explain what's been going on
Please just give this sweet, blushing tiefling a kiss once he confesses
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chronic-escapixt · 2 months ago
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Longing
post-merge!Kai x f!reader
content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, Dark fiction, yandere, stalking, magical drugging, Kai's POV
summary ~ Kai develops an obsession with the first person to show that they care about him
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Our story starts with the day that I died. Well - technically I didn’t ‘die’. But I almost did. I could feel it for weeks now: non-stop nosebleeds and night sweats turned into something much more serious than I wanted to admit. 
I could barely stand up straight when I finally dragged myself to my dear sister, Josette’s apartment. I had to swallow a lot of pride coming here. Since the make-shift merge granted me my own magic (sorry little brother) , I thought I’d never have to ask anything from any of them again, yet here I am.
Doubled over, clutching my abdomen, where every one of my failing organs fights over which can kill me the fastest, having rang the doorbell for the second time.
That’s when I hear a sweet voice behind me.
“Hey, are you alright?”
I don’t move or even respond at first because there’s no way she’s talking to me.
Then I feel her step closer, “sir..”
That’s when I turn and notice the micro-expression of shock on her face as she glimpses my sunken features and sickly pallor. Oddly enough, she doesn’t recoil away from me. She’s more concerned than anything.
“I don’t mean to sound like a stalker but I just saw you struggle the whole way up the stairs. Do you need an ambulance or could I call someone?”
She’s beautiful, okay.. like a major babe. Making it all the more embarrassing when I trip through my words. I should excuse myself because I feel lightheaded and socially deprived doesn’t even begin to describe the last two decades of my life, but I find myself flustered.
“Are you okay?” she repeats slower. She genuinely cared about my wellbeing even though it didn't benefit her at all.
I snap out of it. “yeah.. I’m fine.. just here to see my sister. She’s a doctor, so I’m hoping she can work her magic on me.. so to speak..” I try to straighten my posture, but my shoulders sag right back down pathetically. 
“Oh! You’re Jo’s brother?” 
“Yeah, we’re super close.. we’re twins actually.” 
She gives me a weird look then laughs out loud, “you’re funny.” I force a short chuckle at the expense of my aching ribcage.
It’s just like Jo to interrupt our conversation when she finally answers her door for me. 
“Kai?” she looks me over. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I thought I’d visit you since im not feeling the greatest and your neighbor here was kind enough to check on me.”
“Y/N?”
She greets Jo with a smile then turns to me.
“It was nice meeting you, Kai.” I could've died happy in that moment, watching her lips form the sounds of my name.
She continued, “I really hope you feel better and maybe I’ll see you around.”
I watched her disappear into that apartment of hers. Apartment B25, on the right side across from Jo’s. I’d learn it had a balcony that I could view from the storefront of the coffee joint across the street. 
My smile left my face when I turned back to my sister. For once in our lives, Jo actually helped me. It turns out I just needed her magic, the missing piece to complete the merge. 
Days went by and, my body felt better than ever, but my chest still felt achy. Like a weird gnawing right behind my sternum that bothered me at night and kept me up with sad thoughts. Ever since that weird crying fiasco, I started using the internet to look up these feelings I experienced based on my symptoms. Apparently, I was feeling longing.
I couldn’t ignore it for long, especially not when my memories of her face became hazy. I couldn’t remember if she had a beauty mark on her right or left cheek or that precise shade of hazel in her eyes. 
She became my obsession where all I could think about was the next time I could be around her. More and more I wanted to possess her. Keep her all to myself like a selfish child with their favorite toy. 
I learned her schedule and spent countless afternoons at that coffee shop across the street watching her come home after her classes. I found reasons, any reason at all to be in her building just so I could talk to her. 
I even told her I was a chemistry major just so I could finally get through the threshold of her apartment and smell the space permeated with her lovely cinamony scent. We’d sit together on her floor and I helped her study for her upcoming exam. Chemistry is surprisingly similar to alchemy and potions.
I’d watch her lips when she drunk her favorite cappuccino when we met up for coffee, my eyes never leaving the sight of the frothy milk left on her upper lip. 
I planned a murder when her out-of-state boyfriend decided to come visit her. Brock? Bruce? It doesn’t really matter because I made sure that asshole was out of her life for good. He was a douche anyway and she’s too pure for someone like him. It didn’t take me long to realize he was cheating on her. It wasn’t messy. I took a more refined approach and melted his brain with a simple spell before sending her every screenshot and the most brutal heartbreaking words I could think of sent from his cellphone.
Then I was her shoulder to cry on. I was the one that reassured her that she was enough. She was more than enough. She was perfect. 
I grew tired of watching her agonize over a shitty dead guy, making everything about him. So one night, when I got her drinks from the bar, I muttered a short spell to make a little potion to put her to sleep. I carried her home with me and tucked her into bed before climbing in next to her and pulling her into my chest. That gnawing was finally gone. No longer longing. I felt something else, but I didn’t care to google it because it felt so good I just wanted to enjoy it in the moment. I kissed her forehead and softly told my sleeping beauty that she was mine. 
And I’m never letting her go.
@daisy-renae @quinsly @ditzyzombiesblog
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kalkori · 3 months ago
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ok regretevator fandom i know its "canon" that fleshcousins are only sentient and not sapient but when you look at the dialogue of fleshcousins it seems to say the opposite.
fleshcousins can and will react to being referred to negatively
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not only in this instance with gnarpy does fleshcousin argue with gnarpy, it also emphasizes words like how someone irritated would. like hello?
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chat fleshcousin literally tells lampert to kill himself after being insulted. there is no conversation elsewhere where fleshcousin gets told to kill itself to learn this. also before the threat it tries to insult lampert. thats not a parrot thats a very insulted and very salty creature.
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in the first interaction with spud, the fleshcousin seems to be talking to itself and then appears to get irritated when spud is like "wow i could have ended up like you guys"
in the second interaction with spud, it seems to actually correct him and then, to me, appears to do its equivalent of an irritated grunt when spud is like "you're just like a personal diary!!"
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the above is more tangentially related but fleshcousin seems to not only be genuinely irritated by unpleasant's existence, but then proceeds to also use language of others that it has learned. i find it interesting that specifically gnarpy and infected are used here, as gnarpy is the one who has the most irritated dialogue to learn from, and infected is the most related to unpleasant
2. it knows how to communicate discomfort/pain
ok i know this sounds weird but trust me. in most animals that can be trained to use words to communicate, it often takes A WHILE for them to accurately use language to mention pain. normally they learn stuff for things like food first.
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for this one, the second and third line are my focus. the first one is pretty clear in the distaste for the snowball. however, the third line reveals not only a negative reaction, but trying to joke about it. "kb what is the joke" well you see my non-fleshcousin-brained friend, the joke is [as best translated as possible] "is it already winter?"
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the flash beacon is what we're really here for though. not only can it associate bright, painful light to something it already knows, it A: communicates that it hurts and B: is able to recognize that you control it and asks you to stop hurting it
the reason why that is Huge is that most animals don't as for you to stop. they either run away or fight. when they ask for things to stop, most commonly its with another animal in the same species with their (body) language.
fleshcousin asks for you to stop in YOUR language!! thats huge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
3. fleshcousins can recollect people and inform others about them‚ and can potentially observe other peoples relationships
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first off, fleshcousin tells mark that wallter misses him. [also, it appears it finds it funny that mark censors itself but that might just be me]
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in this one, fleshcousin tells wallter that mark misses him and just how much he does, as well!!!! like hello thats crazy!!
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this one has fleshcousin describe its own relationship with bive and scary mike, which honestly makes me want to bawl my eyes out. like it calls her and mike friends. i literally will cry forever about this
but the most interesting thing fleshcousin mentions multiple times...
IS HOW OFTEN IT MENTIONS FOLLY, AND SOMETIMES MIMICS HER?!
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the last one under petal cone references folly's laugh
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this one might be a stretch but i think this idle is referencing folly's forest, the "barn" being the forest and "the wrongs" referencing how closely related folly's deal is to malice
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when you look at its folly interactions it seems VERY interested in folly
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we're mentioning the farm again
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we're just straight up describing folly here. hello!!
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now listen any other time i'd call it a stretch but its talking to wallter, who it knows the relationships of. folly is heavily associated with that gigantic tree. pillows are associated with sleep. this has to be at least a red herring. like. chat.
theres more but this is already getting too long. chat fleshcousins are sapient if you look at the actual writing, whether intended or not!!
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soulsisterif · 8 months ago
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Soul Sister IF
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Tired of dating show games where you feel like you don't actually get to know your fellow contestants? Sick of wlw routes being treated as an afterthought? Done with interchangable characters that share ultimately the same storyline? Do you think it's ridiculous that your choices don't get acknowledged? Do you cringe at motherf*cking adults behaving like 12-year-olds?
Then this self-indulgent game may be just what you were looking for!
Welcome to Soul Sister, the IF game where you'll participate in the first ever exclusively sapphic dating show!
DEMO: TBA
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You can't say you've ever been all that lucky in love but after your best friend's insistence that you give this a try maybe the time has come for that to change. Whether your intention is to just be a good wingwoman for her or get yourself a new partner you'll have to make the most of it.
Day after day and week after week, you'll spend your time with other women actively trying to find a partner while facing the surprises the show will throw your way. First seasons always keep contestants on their toes!
This light-hearted but romance heavy story focuses on the relationships you can stablish with your fellow contestants. Have fun trying the different choices that allow you to shape your own journey through the ups and downs of human interaction.
Features:
•Customize your MC, including name, appearance, interests and age.
•Bond with your potential matches over shared interests or experience the joy of learning new things.
•Enjoy the different approaches to dating. Commit to one person or keep your options open.
•Deal with all the curveballs, courtesy of the showrunners. What did you expect? This is show biz!
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♥ Abbie ♥
Monolid blue eyes. Long straight black hair, the top strands often clipped back while she leaves it hang freely on the sides. Square jaw. Pale skin with a few moles scattered here and there. As tall as you.
She's in love with you but you don't know that (you moron). She's been your best friend for years. She's known you for such a long time that she can read you like an open book. Bookstore owner.
Not particularly athletic, she enjoys reading. Novels, essays, comic books, poems. You name it. She's goofy and has a blast bantering with you, though she always keeps an eye out as not to overwhelm you and promptly backtracks when she thinks she's making you uncomfortable. She's (not really) subtly touchy with you, always resting a hand on your back or patting your leg. The other contestants see through her from the start.
*What she wants in a partner: familiarity, trust, everyday romance. *Goods you get: feels like home, understanding, warm-hearted, protective. *Bads you get: a bit possessive, scared of change.
Route: friends to lovers, everyone can see it but you.
Says: "I've wanted a relationship for a long time. This might be the only way to push myself out there." But means: "I already love someone who doesn't seem to love me back so I'd rather push both of us to date other people so that I can move on."
♥ Irene ♥
Round green eyes. Shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair left as is, pointy ears peeking through the strands. Tallest of the bunch. Wears more than a few rings, and fiddles with them a lot. Fair, rosy skin that gets easily sunburnt. Smells of sunscreen more often than not when she's outside.
Sweet and shy, her tall and strong frame doesn't look like it suits her. She seems to be eager to make conversation, but ignores how to keep it going. Very into sports and nature. Botanist.
She gets crushes easily, and just as easily she forgets one to focus on the next if her attention isn't instantly reciprocated. Can be stiff in a conversation with someone she's not familiar with, and is often much more relaxed when she can move while she talks, which is why dinner like first dates are certainly not for her.
*What she wants in a partner: kindness, support, life companion. *Goods you get: gentleness, non-judgemental, good listener. *Bads you get: clingy, needs reassurance, naive.
Route: puppy love to actual love.
Says: "I just want to find someone who loves me." But means: "I'm insecure and finding someone who wants to be with me may change the way I see myself."
♥ Joanna ♥
Upturned brown eyes. Curly apparent shoulder-length brown hair that's actually much longer when wet. Golden brown skin with more than a few tan lines. High cheekbones. Average height, wide hips and small waist, epitome of classic femininity.
Energetic, language lover. Flirty and confident, it takes a while to know whether she has a genuine romantic interest on someone or is just being her coquettish self. Translator.
Most well-travelled of the bunch, Joanna is in love with language and shows love through it. She can smooth-talk you and flirt with you relentlessly, and she's the one out of all the contestants who will want to try it out with all of the others. When she feels like things are getting serious for her, though, she'll won't keep it to herself.
*What she wants in a partner: open-minded, curious, willing to learn. *Goods you get: fun facts galore, passionate, straightforward. *Bads you get: dismissive, a little self-centred, commitment issues.
Route: no strings attached (…but she'll get jealous).
Says: "I'm looking for love, not a shackle." But means: "I like the feeling and closeness of a romantic relationship but I'm terrified of how vulnerable that leaves me."
♥ Vega ♥
Hooded black eyes. Short, black hair, long enough at the top so that she can style it a little with wax. Could easily become an afro if given time. Dark skin, tats on her arms highlighted in white ink. Average height, a little on the slim side, but has a toned build.
Laidback and calm. Really enjoys movies and series, has a thing for animation and dubbing. Very good at drawing and impersonations. Voice actress / Music producer
Always humming or whistling, she's content to spend her time looking for shapes in the clouds. She's more sentimental than she cares to admit and often struggles with her feelings when she knows that they don't respond to a logical behaviour, which often leads her to close off and avoid important conversations.
*What she wants in a partner: chill, no over-the-top romance, no pretence. *Goods you get: honest, creative, independent, loyal. *Bads you get: trust issues, reluctant to talk, ignores problems.
Route: let's wing it.
Says: "No need to dress up or hold back a guffaw. I want to truly see you for who you are from the start." But means: "I think every little change in other's behaviour conceals a lie or intent to cheat me. Please don't lie to me."
♥ Margot ♥
Almond-shaped hazel eyes. Long, strawberry blond hair always up in a tight French twist, or a low ponytail if she's going to bed. It's uncommon to see her with her hair down. Tan, freckled skin and hazel eyes. Curvy, doesn't look that short, but reality hits when she allows herself to climb down her high heels.
Gruffiness born out of social anxiety. Surprisingly family oriented. High salary at an important firm. Stiff but compassionate, she's a bitter realist. Lawyer.
A little rough and forceful, she'll make you feel as if you're applying for a girlfriend position instead of organically getting to know her. She's so concentrated in discovering if she's compatible with the other contestants that she overlooks the fact that she has to open up and allow them to get to know her, too.
*What she wants in a partner: family oriented, mature, understanding. *Goods you get: family oriented, devoted, nurturing, tough love. *Bads you get: impatient, approaches dating as an interview, not willing to compromise. …Tough love.
Route: romance bureaucrat turned softie
Says: "I want a wife but the girlfriend stage is such a hassle" But means: "I don't want to waste my time in shallow relationships when all I want is someone to share my whole self and life with."
♥Dawn♥
Deep set brown eyes, dyed blond hair in a wavy pixie cut, but it's naturally a soft chestnut brown in colour. Sharp features, thin nose and lips. Dimpled cheeks.
Confident, master of the innuendo. Loves good (and bad) wordplays and puns. She'd be the intersection in a Venn diagram between Witticism and Self Awareness. Her ability to both fill silences and end discussions in an entertaining manner make her an invaluable asset for any TV show.
Her bold nature lead many to mistake her openness for invitations to go further, which can end badly if anyone dares put a hand on her without her explicit permission.
Openly queer, Dawn is a big fish in the little pond of reality dating shows. Her newcomer label didn't stop her from making a splash from her very first episode. Now a coveted host in the reality world, she turned now the chance to renew her contract with the show that saw her become famous in favour of the upcoming Soul Sister.
*What she wants in a partner: respect, communication, commitment. *Goods you get: intelligent, dependable, romantic, sensible. *Bads you get: paranoid, obdurate, overly perfectionist. …Married.
Route: trying to stay in love while falling for someone else
Says:
"People would be better off if they listened to their brain more often than their hearts. Or loins." But means:
"I consider my actions so thoroughly that them proving to be a mistake makes me feel like a worthless idiot."
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sparrowlucero · 6 months ago
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what's the strange aeons opinion you disagree with?
(just to clarify: this was a lighthearted jab, i dont really care and this explanation is just for posterity. except for the clown thing. fix that) There was a recent strange aeons video that reiterated what I see as kind of poor tumblr takes on Steven Moffat's work, specifically that he 1) only writes cheap shock value without meaningful stories to make himself look clever, 2) that his work is "for men like him, who wanted to watch strong male characters who are always right save the day and ogle at some hot women along the way", and 3) that he habitually queerbaited because he didn't know how to respond to a female fanbase (1) I talked a bit why I disagree with this here; basically, I just think it was one of those things where a subset of a fandom would interpret the work as being deliberately vindictive (Ex. "We have issues with this show, so it must be because the writer is making it bad on purpose to spite us. Only a very arrogant person would do that, so it is now reasonable to see everything in this show through the lens of that ego." etc etc), and it got to the point where the actual themes and motifs of the shows would be entirely unremarked upon or outright dismissed (and it was even a bit of a tumblr faux pas to attempt to engage with them at all) in favor of trying to dissect how and why each episode and character was bad/hostile towards the audience. Because these takes were so popular and widely accepted then, they're often treated as the most objective and nuanced take now. I could get into why I disagree further in regards to the actual content of the shows, but to put it simply, I just think he's a good writer who did some really thoughtful and thematically engaging work for reasons other than, you know, trying to make himself look smart and not wanting girls to watch doctor who. (1) (I didn't really go into this in that previous post but I think it's really weird how people treat the co showrunner, Mark Gatiss, a gay man who wrote a lot of what people attribute to Moffat as a straight man queerbaiting female fans, as a non entity in this conversation. I'm not a big fan of Gatiss but, like, I don't know, give him some agency in his own art here)
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 years ago
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➪the one where ethan makes you playlist of songs that remind him of you. (requested)
Warnings: fluff, ethan being a cutie and having the biggest crush on you, non-ghostface ethan, more fluff
Word Count: 1.8k | Ethan Masterlist
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3
Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this.
Well, he could as he was still young and it had only been a few years since he had been in middle school. Still, the small crushes he had back then were nothing compared to what he felt now. 
His brain felt fuzzy, his heart sped up whenever those eyes met his own, he would break out into a sweat when he felt the brush of skin on skin. He had never had it this bad before.
And you were to blame.
Your sweet smile, your kind eyes and your bright and carefree personality. How could he not instantly be drawn to you?
Ethan was developing a deep crush on you, and at a rapid pace. 
He sat in his room, his laptop playing some rock band from its place on his desk while he was across the room on his bed. His thumb was beginning to hurt from his countless hours of scrolling through Spotify, subconsciously adding random songs to a playlist - every song in which reminded him of you. 
Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny.
Crimson and Clover - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts.
Compass - The Neighbourhood. 
Someone to You - BANNERS.
The list just goes on and he only decided to stop when he saw how long it had gotten, the top of the playlist reading ‘67 songs, 4 hr 21 min’.
God, he felt like a kid again. 
His last crush was brutal. Ethan never found the courage to ask the cute girl in his homeroom out, making that story end before it ever even began. He never even spoke to her. 
Thankfully, that wasn’t the case with you. 
Not entirely, anyway. 
He talked to you almost everyday, and that in itself was an improvement from his last crush. He even went out on dates with you…sort of. Group outings with Tara, Chad, Mindy and Anika counted as dates, right?
Either way, it was another improvement. If there’s one thing high school taught him, it was that sitting around and waiting for people to come to him was borderline useless; insert the name of the crush he quickly forgot about upon meeting you.
You; the cute girl in his econ class.
You; his sister’s roommate.
You; the girl currently walking straight towards him. 
Shit.
“Hey, Ethan,” you greet in your usual cheery voice.
He smiles back, hoping that he hadn’t gotten too caught up in his thoughts to the point where he was staring at you. He hoped that you didn’t come over here to call him out on it. “Hey,” smooth.
You adjust the strap on your shoulder, tilting your head to the side as you ask, “What are you listening to?”
His brows furrowed before he realized that he still had his earbuds in. Now he knew why your voice sounded so muffled. 
Quickly pulling them out, he stuffs the wires away in his pocket as he shrugs. “Oh, um, nothing. Just a playlist I made,” he simply said, applauding himself for being able to sound so casual when his heart was beating a million miles a minute. 
You nod, looking down at the tiled floor of the hallway. “That’s cool,” you trail off, feeling like you were bothering him with your sudden presence. Maybe you were overthinking it, but the way he talked made you think you were interrupting something, whatever that something was. The last thing you wanted to do was bother him.
Unbeknownst to you, Ethan didn’t think you could ever bother him.
He sounded so closed off just because he was having a hard time coming up with words, the effect you had on him quickly beginning to take over his whole body.
“Um, well,” you murmur and back away, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment at the short lived conversation. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
Ethan’s eyes widened as he watched you turn around. He mentally kicked himself for being so monotone with you and giving you the wrong idea. Fuck, of course he’d accidentally give you the impression that he didn’t want to talk to you when it was actually the exact opposite. “Hey, wait,” he called out before he was able to fully think it through. You turned around, a small, confused smile on your lips. “I actually wanted to show you something. I made it last night.”
You raise one brow and walk back over to him. “You made it?”
He laughs awkwardly, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Yeah, I was bored,” he answered and tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the sound of your laugh. “Can I see your phone?”
“Um, yeah,” you grab your phone from your back pocket and hand it to him, confusion still evident on your face. “How are you going to show me what you made on my phone, though?”
He smiles to himself at your cluelessness, putting in your password - he still can’t believe you trusted him enough to give him that - and going onto the Spotify app. “It’s a playlist,” he tells you and your face heats up for the second time. 
“Oh…right,” you nod. “I knew that.”
Ethan shakes his head and hands you back your phone. “I made it for you,” he says. “It’s full of songs that remind me of you.” He hoped you wouldn’t find his words creepy or weird. What was he doing?
You take your phone, tearing your eyes away from his to look down at the screen. It showed a playlist on his account, simply titled ‘For Her’. “Oh, wow,” you say quietly, scrolling through the songs before tapping on the heart icon and saving it to your own account. “Thank you, that’s really sweet.”
His own face heats up in a blush, his eyes meeting yours once again. “No problem,” he says just as quietly. “I hope you like it.”
You smile at him. “I’m sure I will,” your eyes briefly look at his lips before you back away again. “I’m running late, but I promise I’ll listen to it later.”
“No rush,” he calls out as you give him a final smile before turning around the corner. 
It was then when he could finally breathe again. 
-
Ethan hadn’t seen you in a few days. You were busy with work and studying and he had more than a few assignments he had to catch up on. 
You stayed true to your promise and listened to the playlist. However, instead of just listening to a couple of the songs and skipping over others, you listened to every single one. Over and over again.
Thanks to the app’s friend activity being on, Ethan was able to see that you had the playlist on repeat ever since he gave it to you. 
An undeniable feeling of happiness consumed every inch of him, filling him with a sense of pride. He was happy to know that the three hours he spent putting that playlist together weren’t for nothing. 
Thank God for Spotify and it’s weird but very useful features. 
Another day or so goes by before he sees you again, a warm feeling washing over him as you give him a smile that takes up nearly your entire face. “Hey, Ethan!” You greet him like usual, but this time you catch him by surprise as your arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug. “Thanks so much for making me that playlist. Some of those songs are really good.” You wanted to say all of them were good, but also didn’t want to come off as being too forward. 
“I’m glad,” he returned the hug and had to force himself to pull away after a few seconds. “So, I take it you like it?” He knew you did but he also wanted to hear you say it as well. 
“Of course, I love it,” you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden. You weren’t dumb, you knew what 99% of the songs were about - if it wasn’t obvious enough. Each one gave you butterflies, as did the title of the list. 
For her.
You could kiss him right here and now.
 “Good, that’s good,” he says and you try to fight off your growing smile.
“There were some really romantic songs on there,” you trail off, hoping to anyone that was listening that you weren’t reading too much into things. You’d die of embarrassment if you were to confess your feelings to him and have him turn you down. You’d probably cry if he were to say he just saw you as a friend. 
Ethan leaned against the bricked wall of the university, his forearm keeping him balanced as he raised it just above his head. “Only some?” He teased, knowing damn well that all of the songs were romantic in one way or the other. 
Relief falls over you at his voice, his teasing grin only making you believe your suspicions even more. “Okay, maybe more than some,”
Ethan’s smirk turned into a boyish grin at the way your face began to tint red. “More like all of them,” he smoothly corrected you, not entirely sure where the sudden boost of confidence came from, but not wasting a second of it. “You know, I meant it when I said they reminded me of you.”
You feel your face flush at his words, tilting your head down to stop your growing grin. “Yeah, I know,”
Ethan felt like he could fall over at any given second and he was glad his arm was currently doing a very good job at keeping him up right. Still, before he could lose the courage he rarely ever felt, he inched closer to you as he says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,”
You don’t dare move or speak or breathe as you wait for him to continue, your eyes never leaving his. 
“We’ve been friends for a while now, and it’s been great. Really great,” he starts and waits for any indication that he should shut up before he ruins something good. When you only slowly nodded, he decided to just go for it. “But I want something more. And I want it with you.”
Your eyes flicker all over his face, butterflies begging to be set loose all over your body as you process his words. Even though you had a strong feeling that you already knew what his answer would be, you still ask, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I really like you,” the butterflies had officially been released and your face heats up in both relief and happiness, overjoyed that your feelings weren’t one sided. “Would you like to go out with me?”
You refrain from screaming out a ‘yes’ and instead look down at the concrete you were both standing on. Slowly, you nod and don’t bother to fight off the smile growing on your face. “Yes,” you say and feel your heart skip a beat at the way his tense shoulders immediately lift, a grin taking over his own face. “Yes, I would like to go out with you.”
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tlonista · 1 year ago
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A whole mess of Astarion hurt/comfort fanfic recs
OK fine I've read so much Astarion hurt/comfort-adjacent fic that I should really put together an incomplete rec list. Be warned that with Astarion's canon backstory there's a lot of abuse and assault references of varying explicitness, so check the AO3 tags. I'm also limiting myself to one fic per author because otherwise I'd end up with several pages of Asidian and FlowerCitti. In case you're wondering, my personal contribution to the field is Seducere.
Ongoing Fics:
innocence died screaming by FlowerCitti
Comprehensive pre- and in-canon Astarion character study. Contains possibly the most heartwrenching post-Astarion-locked-tomb-era turn I've ever read. Very good.
Another Path by Asidian
A sweet Wyllstarion monster hunter x monster no-tadpole AU in which Astarion gets captured/rescued by Wyll straight out of a year in a coffin and navigates basic human kindness for the first time in a couple centuries.
Seen by ayvaines
Modern Bloodweave AU where Cazador is Astarion's cruel, controlling boyfriend and Gale is the kind D&D GM who's hosting them both in a game. As makes sense for a modern AU, it's a more-understated-than-canon take on Astarion coming to terms with the fact that he's in an abusive relationship, working out his feelings about Cazador through tabletop roleplaying, including some clever scenes dealing with the bleed of intense RPG sessions.
Heartbeats by LadyRagnelle
Canon-divergent Durgestarion fic where Astarion was recaptured by his siblings, memory-wiped, and then rescued by a team of companions he no longer remembers. A lot of well-executed (and sometimes surprisingly funny) angst around Astarion, charlatan that he is, trying to pretend he hasn't forgotten absolutely everything including how to be a non-level-1 rogue and have friends.
The stars began to burn by peregrinefeathers
Gale is trapped in fantasy nullspace and gets Astarion free of Cazador's clutches, after which they navigate an odd-couple relationship while trying to kill Cazador and pull Gale back into the physical world. Another classic "Astarion learns what human decency is" no-tadpole AU.
Memoir by IzzyIzGay
An Interview with the Vampire-style fic in which Astarion tells Gale about his time under Cazador, playing with that series' trademark unreliable narration and an unusually literal version of Cazador's creepy family dynamic.
Starved by neo7v
A modern non-magical Bloodweave AU featuring Astarion and the lonely degradation of a precarious service industry job! Only a few chapters so far, but seriously, it takes the "vampiric starvation" theme in a direction that's very mundane and miserable and compelling and it's one of my favorite recently started fics.
Unexpected Guests by Erandir
Another "get loved and cared for, sucker" no-tadpole AU featuring a non-Tav druid OC taking care of a lost Astarion who's escaped Baldur's Gate. Astarion and druids, the perfect foil.
Through The Night Dark And Drear by JJJSchmidt
Astarion is accidentally bargained off to an archfey by Cazador and taken to the palace of infuriatingly confusing fair folk magic! There's still a lot of story left to be uncovered, but I love the worldbuilding and fairy-tale premise.
snare by parsnipit
A Halstarion fic where Astarion never got tadpoled and the gang ends up rescuing him from Cazador, post-game, with his compulsions very much intact. Which leads naturally to hissing wet cat Astarion reluctantly learning to trust Halsin while they plot to take down Cazador.
One-Shots:
Quick Step by starkraving
starkraving's another person who could have made up a big chunk of this list, and this character study plays really well on the classic "how the hell does Astarion know how to be a rogue anyway" fandom conversation. My favorite entry in a good and growing series of Astarion-centered fics.
Gifts by Feena_c
Astarion gets caught by Cazador before the confrontation at the palace. Impeccable "Cazador doesn't realize Astarion didn't just come back to Baldur's Gate, he came back loved" vibe, as Cazador tries to break Astarion by taking away the gifts the tadpole gang gave him along the way.
What is Affection but the Absence of Cruelty by Aztec24
One of my favorite tropes is "Astarion tortures himself by obsessively imagining how awful these perfectly nice people will be to him," and this very much delivers. Featuring a rare two-Tavs-plus-Astarion throuple!
The Mimic by ForsakenFlyingCircus
This is really hurt-no-comfort, but I'm including it because it's a good super sad take on dehumanization with an awful Tav confirming all the worst things Astarion thinks about himself and the world, touching on the whole problem of sentient monsters in D&D.
Peel the scars from off my back by WitchyBee
A Spawn Family fic in the aftermath of Astarion getting Cazador's contract on his back - lots of antagonistic but grudgingly caring sibling interaction and Astarion being satisfyingly ambivalent about it all.
Complete Multi-Chapter Fic:
Just A Taste by NightmareGiraffe
The tadpole gang gets imprisoned at Moonrise Towers and Astarion accepts an offer from Araj Oblodra in exchange for their freedom. A very dark yet totally in-character elaboration on the canon blood merchant encounter, plus a cool dragonborn Tav.
The Accountant’s Guide to Taking Down an Evil Vampire Lord (and maybe bagging Astarion while you are at it) by Cinnamontails
A charming f!OC-who-isn't-Tav/Astarion longfic that combines hurt/comfort with het romance novel conventions, which I feel like is rarely pulled off.
And I know there's a ton I missed here -- god this fandom is big.
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supernovafics · 2 years ago
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𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 6.3k words
summary: in which the summer of ‘84 was both the best and worst time of your life
warnings: explicit language, underaged drinking, angst, fluff, implied smut, cheating
author’s note: second part to cardigan (but could be read out of order). i fully did not expect this to end up this long but hope y’all enjoy<33 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here!)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“but i can see us lost in the memory. august slipped away into a moment in time.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
July 19, 1984
Ten. 
That was how many days in a row you and Steve had seen each other. 
From the first time you two talked to one another outside of Ralph’s Sandwich Shop, his first ever words to you being, “Potato chips on a sandwich? That’s kinda weird,” and the conversation that proceeded from that somehow led you to watching a movie in the theater room at his house that same night. To now this— him spending the majority of his afternoon with you at the library, where you had been working for the past year and a half. 
You wondered how long the two of you would keep the streak alive. 
If it was anyone else you probably would have gotten sick of seeing them that many days in a row, but with Steve you weren’t. In fact, you looked forward to whenever you got to see him again. And maybe that feeling, the anticipation toward seeing this guy who you probably shouldn’t even be seeing this often anyway, should’ve worried you. 
Whenever you thought about how easily the two of you were able to go from absolutely nothing to this— an unlikely friendship that somehow felt like you’d known each other so much longer than barely two weeks— it startled you. 
Before, you had simply known of him; of course, you had, he was practically royalty at your high school. “King Steve,” a charmer, a perpetual flirter, somehow dating straight-A student Nancy Wheeler. It was the combination of those things that told you during that first conversation you had with him that you should stay away from him, but for some reason, you still said yes. 
Maybe it was because the home theater he had been bragging about sounded way too tempting not to take up the offer. Or maybe it was because you liked being an idiot sometimes. 
If it was the latter that was true then you still were an idiot because there you were ten days later still hanging out with him and not regretting it one bit. 
“I need to bring you better games here,” Steve said. He was standing across from you on the other side of the counter. 
“What’s wrong with Uno? Is it because you keep losing?” You jokingly asked, a small smile on your face as you started shuffling the deck. “Also, I’m technically working right now, so I shouldn’t even be playing any games with you.”
“There’s no one here except you and me,” He said and then gestured to the quietness that surrounded you both. “Actually, I think the only other person that’s been in here all day was that old lady who just wanted directions to the park.”
You loved your job at the library and you really didn’t mind how it was rarely busy, especially during the summer, because it meant that you could spend most of your shifts reading instead of helping someone find what they needed or reshelving books. Now the majority of your non-busy moments during your shift were spent with Steve. 
“What are you doing tonight?” He asked as you began dealing the cards, because what else was there to do but play another round of Uno? 
“My guess is hanging out with you,” You answered. “What’s happening?” 
“Party,” He stated simply, and you realized that probably should’ve been your first guess. “Need us to be beer pong partners again.” 
It had been last week, two days after you and Steve unspokenly decided that hanging out with one another would become a common occurrence, when he dragged you to a party; some too big thing at Matthew Lancaster’s lake house. 
A beer pong table was set up, which was not all surprising for a high school party, and you suggested that you and Steve play and be on a team with one another. You were insanely good, practically making every shot, and Steve wasn’t too bad at playing either, which made your team pretty unstoppable. It was a random hidden talent of yours that you would only show off every once in a blue moon because you deliberately didn’t frequent parties. 
“I’ve retired for the time being,” You told him. “I can’t show off my beer pong skills too often or it won’t be a cool talent anymore.”
He laughed a bit at that but still nodded. “Okay, what do you wanna do tonight instead?” 
“Don’t let me stop you from going to the party.”
Steve shrugged and shook his head. “Probably wouldn’t be fun without you, anyway.”
His words confused you as much as they made you feel so happy. And you quickly pushed that “happy” feeling away because you knew just how fast it could lead to feeling other things; things that would make you look like the worst person in the world.
Once again, you wondered why you were doing this. Why were you allowing yourself to get close to him when you’d probably just look like an idiot in the end? And why had he wanted to talk to you in the first place? Those fleeting questions would hit you a lot over the past few days, but you’d quickly push them away because you didn’t want to think too hard about everything. However, this time you couldn’t force them away. 
“Why?” You asked, breaking eye contact with him for the first time probably that entire afternoon. “Why… are we friends right now?”
If he was surprised or confused by the randomness of your question, he didn’t show it. 
“I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you that day, so I did it,” He made the answer sound so simple. “I didn’t really expect it to turn into this friendship, but it’s nice finally having something that actually feels so easy.”
What about you and Nancy wasn’t easy? 
You wanted to ask that but refrained from doing so. He probably didn’t mean her when he said that. You knew that the only reason why he was with you instead of her, and had been for the past ten days, was because she was out of town for the summer. That thought hurt a bit, knowing that you were essentially some sort of “consolation prize,” but it kept you from looking too much into things. You took everything Steve said that could be read as flirtatious with a grain of salt and forced yourself to see it as solely platonic. 
And you’d rather it all be completely platonic anyway because you really liked the friendship you’d developed with him. 
“You’re right. This does feel easy,” You ultimately responded, smiling at him because now that the unspoken lines were finally verbally drawn— the two of you were friends; nothing more, nothing less— you felt the tiniest bit better about it all. “But, I’m glad it does. I’m happy we’re friends.”
Steve smiled back at you. “Me too.” 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“your back beneath the sun. wishin’ i could write my name on it.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
July 28, 1984
The only reason why you allowed Steve to bring you to this party was because you were a sucker for a bonfire. 
And the only reason why you were currently drunk off your ass was because you couldn’t say no to a game of hide and seek, especially a drinking version of the childish game, which Steve had suggested and you quickly agreed to. 
There was something about this game that made you realize that maybe your entire friendship was a game; a game of who would break first. But, that was something to think about at a different time. Or actually not at all, because thinking further about that would probably only complicate things. 
It was easy to pretend that there was nothing more to you and him when you both were sober. It was also so much easier to lie to yourself that you didn’t feel anything romantic toward him and that you didn’t see that maybe he actually felt the same way too.
There was a constant back and forth happening in your mind, with you continuously telling yourself that being friends with Steve wasn’t a bad idea, even though maybe it was because it was slowly making you want something more. Sometimes it felt as if it made sense to like him; it felt obvious. The way you could talk to each other about anything and everything mixed with how constantly you two wanted to spend time together made you fall in so deep so fast. 
But, you couldn’t accept or think about any of that, and the reasons why were painfully obvious. 
However, with the alcohol currently clouding your brain, that felt like a slightly different story. 
“Sitting behind a tree? Not your best hiding spot.”
Hearing Steve’s voice right then should’ve made you feel at least the tiniest bit upset because it meant that you lost that round of hide and seek, but you drunkenly smiled up at him. 
“I wanted to be original and we’ve been playing for so long I feel like we’ve done everything else at this point. But, that was at least two minutes, though, right?”
“It was actually barely thirty seconds.”
“Oh, wow,” You said with a laugh as you extended a hand up toward him so that he could help you up. You wobbled a bit before getting your balance and then you grabbed the red solo cup in Steve’s free hand to drink the rest of what was left in it as your punishment for losing; the exact contents of the drink were unknown, but it tasted fruity. 
When you were done, you handed the cup back to him and then leaned back against the tree because it somehow felt nice and you weren’t bothered by the roughness of it touching the parts of your skin that the tank top you were wearing didn’t cover.
There were a ton of people at the infamous “Lover’s Lake” because of the party, but nobody had been paying attention to you and Steve running around like five-year-olds playing hide and seek and getting severely drunk in the process.  
The lopsided grin taking over Steve’s features let you know that he was just as inebriated as you were, maybe even more so because he’d been drinking a bit before you two started the game. 
“Maybe we should be done with hide and seek now.”
You gave him a nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 
Things became quiet for a few moments with the two of you solely staring at each other in the darkness and ignoring the loud rowdiness of everyone else who was only a few feet away. Steve closed a bit of the distance between you both and leaned in close to you; his gaze flickered down to your lips for a hint of a second before going right back to your eyes.  
If this was any other moment, your mind would be running a million miles a minute, screaming at you to not allow the inevitable to happen. But, somehow, you were actually calm. 
“We can’t do that, friend,” You told him, making your voice sound as serious as possible, but you couldn’t help but smile a bit. 
“I know,” He responded but still shut the final space of distance between you both, bypassing your lips and kissing your cheek instead. “That’s okay, though, right?”
The reasonable side of you was obviously telling you to say “no,” but it was hard to make yourself care enough to listen to it. “I’ll allow it.”
The three words came out so quietly, but Steve heard you. He kissed your other cheek and then your forehead and then your nose before pulling away and smiling at you. 
Before he could say anything, you did the same to him; kissing both of his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose, and then pulling back to lean against the tree again. That time it was your eyes that glanced down at his lips before going back to his eyes. 
You were so close to doing it, and he almost begged you to, but then you were pushing off of the tree and asking him to turn around. 
“Piggyback ride to the car, please?”
“We can’t drive right now,” He said as he leaned down a bit so you could hop onto his back. 
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “I know, but I will die if I don’t sit down.”
The walk to your car should’ve taken less than a minute, but instead, it nearly took five because, of course, the two of you got a little lost and it took way too long to realize that the first car you had walked past was yours. 
“God, we’re acting like such idiots right now,” You said, laughing as Steve let you down so you could get into the car. 
He laughed too as he got in on the passenger side. “Yeah, definitely not our finest moment.”   
You sighed in contentment when you leaned back against the seat, immediately finding comfort in it, which definitely said a lot about how drunk and exhausted you were because you never usually found your car as super comfortable. 
You turned on your side to face Steve, and as if feeling your gaze on him, he turned to look at you as well. You silently admired each other. Sometimes it felt as if a thousand things were being said in the silences you two shared with one another, things that would probably always be left unsaid. 
“I really like you,” He whispered suddenly and you realized that maybe not everything silently said would be left unspoken. 
You let out a small breath before closing your eyes because it felt too hard to look at him right then. “I really like you too.”
“Please let me kiss you.”
It was difficult to describe exactly what his words managed to do to you, and you tried your hardest to disregard those feelings. 
“We can’t.” You shook your head, eyes still shut. “It’ll ruin everything.”
“What if that’s okay?” He said, voice still quiet. 
It could’ve been easy.
To finally do what you both had desperately wanted to do for weeks at this point, but had refused to admit. And doing it at this moment instead of any other time because, with the drunken states you both were in, none of this would be remembered. Which would also mean that it didn’t really happen, right? 
Your eyes finally opened and you looked at him. “Neither of us is gonna remember this conversation in the morning.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And if you did, you’d regret saying any of this,” You said, and your words were met with silence from him. You couldn’t tell if that meant that they were the truth, or instead, quite far from it. 
Even in your inebriated state, you were too scared to push him further and get an answer because you were unsure which response would be worse; “Yes, I’d regret it,” or “No, I wouldn’t regret it at all.”
Before he could potentially say a version of either of those responses, you began speaking again. “I’m really tired.” 
You then pulled your eyes away from him and looked straight ahead at the people that were still partying around the fire. A part of you wanted to join them, but the other part of you just wanted to fall asleep. 
“Me too,” Steve said and with how long he had been quiet, you were actually surprised to hear his voice right then.
Both of you fell asleep just like that for the time being, putting an end to a conversation that would not be talked about in the morning because just as you’d both assumed, it seemed as if it had been long forgotten.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“salt air, and the rust on your door. i never needed anything more. whispers of ‘are you sure?’ ‘never have i ever before.’”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
July 31, 1984
The sun had long ago set behind the trees, but you and Steve still had no plans to leave his pool anytime soon. 
You swam close to him, your hands finding his shoulders and then pushing down to dunk him under the water. A laugh fell from your lips as you immediately started swimming away, but Steve’s hand quickly found your waist and pulled you back toward him.
“What was that for?” He asked, one arm still wrapped around you, causing your back to be firmly pressed against his chest, while his other hand pushed back his wet hair. 
“For pushing me in the pool earlier,” You answered, only trying for a moment to wriggle out of his grasp but failing miserably so you stopped. 
“That was hours ago.”
“Revenge is best when you don’t see it coming,” You said, smiling widely. 
He laughed against your ear. “You’re evil.” 
You attempted to pull away again but he was still holding on to you, so instead you maneuvered so you were simply facing him instead. 
You were smiling up at him, and you assumed he’d match it with a smile of his own, but he didn’t. Instead, there was a certain look on his face that you couldn’t necessarily decipher. You almost asked him what was wrong, but he started speaking before you got the chance to.
“I remember the conversation we had in your car at the bonfire.”  
You could feel your heart start to race a bit, not expecting things to take that turn. “Oh… You do?”
He nodded his head. “Do you?”
“I remember the whole thing,” You told him, and that was entirely true. You’d spent the past few days constantly thinking about that moment and running through every single thing that was said. You had also tried your hardest to push the memory away because it seemed as if Steve didn’t remember it. 
“I don’t regret anything I said,” He told you and then a hand came up to cup your cheek. “I still really wanna kiss you.”
You were quiet for a moment, letting Steve’s words settle over you, before responding to him in a small voice. “Are you sure?”
Instead of verbally responding, he gave you the smallest of nods and closed the tiny bit of space between you both, dipping his head down and slotting his lips against yours. 
All you could think at that moment was finally.  
Finally, you were this close to one another.
Finally, you were kissing.
Finally, you were doing what you had wanted to do for so long.
The thing that both of you told each other and even convinced yourselves wasn’t going to happen, finally happened. And in a way, it sucked because neither of you felt bad about it, at least not bad enough to stop. 
Your legs wrapped around his waist beneath the water and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, one hand finding its way into the hair at the nape of his neck.
You weren’t in the deepest part of the pool anymore so Steve was able to stand, but both of you were still almost completely submerged in the water. He walked you both over to one of the sides of the pool, pressing you back against it and deepening the kiss. 
Nothing was said, and nothing needed to be said. In fact, you thought that if either of you said something, it would ruin the perfection that was that moment and harshly shove you both back to reality. A reality that told you that this was the farthest thing that should have been happening. 
For the time being, with Steve against you and his lips finding that particularly sensitive part of your neck, you were happy living in this fantasy world. It was a dream that you didn’t want to wake up from, and you convinced yourself that it wouldn’t hurt too bad when you did finally have to wake up from it. 
“We should…” You took a breath, biting back the moan that threatened to spill from your lips as Steve continued the assault on your neck. Your next word should’ve been “stop,” but stopping this was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. “We should go to your room.” 
He finally, and sadly, pulled away from your neck and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “That sounds like a great idea.”
You detached yourselves from one another just enough to step out of the pool and into his house, wet bodies leaving drops of water across the floor that weren’t the slightest bit cared about. 
You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.
After getting as close as you just had been, it was hard to go back to how it used to be; the friendliness and innocence that had surrounded the brief touches you two would usually share. Instead, your hand was intertwined with his as he led you up the stairs, and then his arms circled around you when you entered his room, cocooning you in the towel he’d grabbed from behind his door. 
It was you that kissed him that second time. 
You reached up to push his wet hair back and then leaned in, inwardly sighing in contentment. Both of his hands found your waist, causing the towel to fall and it was immediately long forgotten. 
When you pulled away you took the smallest step back and simply looked at him, his pretty face and soft brown eyes that were full of nothing but adoration for you. You tried your hardest to find something within you that resembled regret or made you want to stop this, but you couldn’t. And you knew exactly what that said about you, but it was also difficult to force yourself to care about that either. 
Steve eagerly brought you close to him again, which made you smile into the kiss he pulled you into. He slowly started leading you back toward his bed.
“Wait,” You said, detaching your lips from his and softly pushing him back a bit. “It would be really rude of me to lay on your bed with my bathing suit on.”
He slowly nodded and swallowed harshly as you removed your top first, letting that fall to the floor, and then going to your bottoms. “That’s very considerate of you.” 
You only smiled at him and his sudden nervousness, which managed to wash away any and all of your own shyness at that moment. 
His eyes met yours. “You’re so fucking pretty.” 
“You’re not too bad yourself,” You whispered, reaching out to grab his hands and pull him close to you again. You were about to kiss him again, but it was then that you noticed the time on the clock that was hanging on the wall behind him. “Shit, shit.”
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a look of concern crossed his face. “What’s wrong?”
“The time,” You answered and then sighed as you started grabbing your bathing suit. “It’s 12:40, and if I’m not home by one, my mom will kill me and then you.” 
“Your mom loves me too much to kill me,” Steve responded, grabbing a t-shirt for you to slip on too. 
“Yeah, kinda weird how after only one meeting where you two barely even talked, she somehow likes you more than me now,” You said as you put on his shirt which kind of swallowed you whole but you loved it and already knew that you would never be giving it back to him.  
You looked up at him and your next words came out quietly. “I’m sorry I have to ruin this right now.” 
Steve shook his head at you. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry.” Both of his hands found your hips again, squeezing softly. “We’ll pick up where we left off next time.” 
You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Next time?” 
“Mhm, next time,” He said, smiling back at you and nodding. “If you want there to be one?”
“I’d like that,”  You responded and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. 
Even as you headed back downstairs and Steve walked you to your car, kissing you for a few more minutes before you reluctantly drove away, your stomach had yet to fill with even a hint of regret or guilt. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“wanting was enough. for me, it was enough. to live for the hope of it all.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
August 12, 1984
The constant sound of something softly pinging against your window pulled your attention away from the book you were reading in your bed. 
There was only one person that could've been throwing something at your window, but still, you were the tiniest bit surprised when you opened your curtains and saw Steve standing on your front lawn. 
Even though seeing him was such a natural thing at this point, it made sense that you were at least a little surprised because no part of you felt secure with this “thing” you had going on with him, which was more than just a friendship but so much less than any type of actual relationship. You lived in the perpetual state that it would all abruptly end. And maybe that thought process came from you knowing that eventually, this would all have to come to an end; there weren’t that many days of summer left. 
But then there was that tiny sliver of hope that maybe it all wouldn’t have to end. You kept that thought buried deep down inside of you, though. 
You lifted your window. “Throwing rocks at my window? That’s very rom-com of you.”
“Sometimes I like to be cheesy,” Steve said, smiling at you. 
It was a sweet, adoring smile that you shouldn’t have been on the receiving end of; it was a smile that didn’t belong to you. It was so easy to see that, but it was nearly impossible to actually do something about it and let him go.
“Can I come up?” He asked. “I promise I’ll be quiet and your mom won’t hear me.” 
“She’s gone for the weekend, actually,” You told him, smiling a bit. “I’ll be down in a second.”
When you opened the front door, he was quick to greet you with a kiss before pulling you in for a hug. 
After that first kiss in his pool, there was an almost immediate shift that happened. An easy shift where you’d gone from constantly telling yourselves that everything was solely platonic to finally allowing yourselves to do every little thing that deep down you both had always wanted to do. With him now always greeting you with soft kisses, and you secretly spending so many nights in his bed because his parents were never home and most of the time it was easy to make up some sort of excuse to your mom. 
Something else shifted too, though. It was a shift that neither of you spoke about because you never really wanted to acknowledge what exactly your friendship had transformed into and what it really meant. Not talking about any of it was a decision that you were unsure if it was completely yours or his because it was all so unspoken. 
When you thought about it hard enough though, you could see that the decision was mutual, because on both sides it was easier to pretend that none of the outside things existed. In that fairytale, he didn’t have a girlfriend, he didn’t belong to anyone else. You were his and he was solely yours. 
“Tell me about this thing that your parents forced you to go to tonight,” You said as Steve kicked off his shoes by the front door and the two of you started heading up the stairs. One of his hands was intertwined with yours and there was barely an inch of space between you both. It had become really hard not to be close to one another.
“It was this big event for my dad’s job, and they always drag me to stuff like that as a way to prove to his coworkers that they’re ‘good parents.’ It was very boring,” Steve responded with a small sigh and then gave your hand a light squeeze. “It would’ve been much less painful if you came.”
He sat down on the foot of your bed when the two of you walked into your room, and the oversized t-shirt you had on as your pajamas rode up a lot as you settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and hands resting on his shoulders. It was an un-innocent position that, for the time being, felt quite the opposite. 
“Going to something like that is something a girlfriend would do, not…” That was the first time you’d even minorly referred to Nancy, and it felt both weird and wrong. It woke you up for a second and made you falter a bit in your next words, breaking Steve’s gaze. “Not a… friend.” 
One of his hands found the side of your thigh, rubbing the skin softly and trying to pull you back into this moment with him. You could feel him reading you so easily and knowing where your mind was going, and he didn’t want you to go there, and neither did you. 
You didn’t want this– you and him, him and you– to break just yet.
“Um, anyway, you didn’t tell me that it would be so formal,” You said, gesturing with your head to the suit he was wearing. 
Your eyes met his again and you could see the relief wash over his face because you didn’t bring up the unspoken topic. Things shifted right back to normal. Well, the normal that you two created for yourselves. 
“I feel kinda ridiculous, and I hate this bow tie,” He responded, hand continuing to rub your thigh. “I should’ve probably changed before I came here but I just really wanted to see you.”
You let his words further push away any thoughts of Nancy that lingered in your mind, thoughts that finally told you that what you were doing with him was wrong.
“Stop. You look good,” You told him, your fingers playing with the bow tie for a brief moment. “Like, really good.” 
“Okay, now I’m really glad that I didn’t change, then.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you. 
You only deepened the kiss in response and focused on nothing but the feeling of his mouth on yours and his hands beginning to snake underneath your shirt. 
He pulled back, maneuvering things so you were sitting at the foot of the bed and he was standing. The black suit jacket he had on was the first thing to fall on the floor. You slipped your t-shirt over your head and tossed it to the side before helping him unbutton the long sleeve white shirt he had on. 
His hands found your bare waist and squeezed softly. “I’m so fucking happy I’m here right now.”
“Me too,” You responded and then sighed in contentment, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment, when you felt his thumb graze over your already hard nipple. 
Sometimes, usually in moments like these, it felt as if it was your sole purpose to be with him; canceling your plans just in case he’d call or show up, and meeting solely at his place, or yours, or the library.
How deeply intertwined you felt with him let you know exactly how much it would hurt when this all came to its eventual end. But then you were hit with the thought that maybe you would deserve it because you put yourself in this situation. 
Steve’s hand came up to gently stroke your cheek and pull you out of your thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”
Your gaze met his as you shook your head. “Nothing important.”
But, maybe it was the most important thing. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“i remember thinkin' i had you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
August 23, 1984
You expected to see him that night. 
So maybe him unexpectedly showing up to the library– which was now busy with a bunch of kids scrambling to do their summer reading assignments– was what should have told you that everything was about to go to shit. 
“Hey,” You said to him and placed the book in your hand in its rightful place on the shelf and then did the same thing with the other one you were holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tonight.” 
Steve was quiet for a few moments too long, which made you look at him, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when you saw the look on his face. It was hard to exactly decipher his expression because it looked as if he was experiencing a thousand different emotions at once. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice quiet. 
“I got a call from Nancy,” He told you, and you nearly flinched at hearing him saying her name to you for the first time ever. “She said she’s coming back tonight.” 
“Oh…” Was the first thing that fell from your lips. It was the word that perfectly encompassed your initial shock at that moment. “That’s, um– That’s really, uh…” You almost said “great,” because if the circumstances were different and if things were actually normal between you two, it probably would’ve been great that his girlfriend was coming back after being gone for almost two months. But, things were far from normal and the circumstances weren’t different at all, so you were at a loss for words.  
Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, but what was really probably only seconds, you said something. “I really don’t know what to say to that, honestly.” 
“I’m sorry,” He said softly and pulled his eyes away from you. He looked down and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I guess we, uh, both know what that means.” 
“Say it, Steve.” You muttered. You had to hear him say the words in order for it all to be real for you. You couldn’t take all of the unspoken, reading-between-the-lines bullshit. 
He was quiet for an unbearable amount of time before he finally spoke. “We can’t see each other anymore.” 
From the second he kissed you in his pool nearly a month ago, you knew that those words would ultimately come. Each happy day that passed with you tangled up in his bedsheets or cuddled up on his couch laughing about nothing was leading to this moment. 
It had all been so inevitable, but it still hurt harder than you had expected it to. You quickly decided to pretend as if it didn’t, though. 
You nodded at him. “Okay. Got it.” 
“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t– I didn’t–”
“Don’t,” You quickly shook your head, not at all wanting to hear whatever pitying thing he would say to you at that moment. “Please don’t.” 
You were suddenly glad that you were at work right then because you could distract yourself from thoughts of him and everything that had just ended with the current busyness of the library. You looked away from Steve and noticed a little girl struggling to grab a book that was high on a shelf.
“It’s really chaotic here right now, and I have to actually do work for the first time probably all summer, so yeah…” You forced a small smile and then walked away from him, ignoring the words he said to you that you barely heard and couldn’t make out. 
Over the next two final hours of your shift, you’d silently accepted that that brief conversation would be the last time you talked to Steve Harrington. Although there were a thousand more things that probably could’ve been said, it was okay. That ending was okay. Or at least in the long run, it would be. 
So it slightly startled you when you saw him in the parking lot, leaning against the side of his car. When he noticed you, he waved. 
“Have you been here this whole time?” You asked, walking toward him, but leaving a wide space of distance between you two. 
“Maybe, yeah.”
“Why?” 
“I don’t know…”
For the first time probably ever, he confused you. 
“I just— I wish things could be different,” He ultimately said, and hearing those words simultaneously made you feel happy while also making you feel so fucking upset. 
“Things can be different,” You told him as you stepped toward him, the tiniest glimmer of hope inadvertently beginning to swirl in your stomach. “We could be together.”
Your hands found his, slowly intertwining them. His gaze met yours and you let the silent conversation play out. Your eyes pleading with him to not let go of what you two had, and him looking at you so softly while also battling whatever else was going on in his mind. After a few moments, he gave your hands a quick squeeze before he let go of them. 
“I love Nancy.”
Not you. Those were the words he didn’t say, but you could read between those lines a little too easily. 
“I love you” was the one thing you hadn’t said to one another, but you thought that you could feel how much he loved you through each soft touch, every longing look, every plea for you to stay in his bed for just a minute longer; one minute that always turned into at least five. 
Apparently, you were wrong, though. 
And now you knew for certain that you were wrong about every single thing that happened that summer. 
Because you knew that you felt that way toward him. You loved him. 
But he didn’t love you. He didn’t want to be with you. 
He loved her. 
His girlfriend— the only girl he was supposed to love. 
You let the feeling of regret and guilt toward everything that happened this summer crash over you like a tsunami. 
“I should’ve never done this,” You said, whispering that more to yourself, than to him. 
“What?” He asked, unsure of what you’d just said.
“You love her.” You said as you moved away from him. “Go be with her.”
“I’m really sorry,” You heard him say as you walked toward your car. 
You didn’t say anything in response to that. Mainly because there was nothing to say, but also because you refused to talk to him any longer. And quite frankly, you never wanted to talk to him again. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“so much for summer love and saying ‘us.’ ‘cause you weren't mine to lose.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(read “betty” here!)
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incorrectmahabharatquotes · 8 months ago
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Recently I saw this post by @god-has-adhd (I'm not reblogging it because I saw the people they tagged and realised very quickly that it's quite likely that us reblogging the post will be unwelcome, to put it mildly. I'm tagging the OP here anyway since it's a direct response to the post and it seemed only fair to engage in the conversation. I hope they don't mind.) OP urged everyone to watch the video regardless of the political leaning so in the spirit of giving everything a fair shot, we watched it. 'We' here refers to both me and Mod G. There are things we agree on with the guy speaking in the video and there are things we disagree with/think he didn't properly research. However, there is one thing that's most relevant to this blog and to me, personally so I'll be talking primarily about it. This is your long post warning, I'm afraid.
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"The Real Story of Eklavya"
The context for people who haven't watched the video is that the guy brings up two stories, one of Satyakama Jabali from the Upanishads and that of Eklavya from the Mahabharata. He brings up both these stories in the context of caste, he helpfully titles it and everything.
What I found interesting is that he frames himself talking about the story with the words "The real story of Eklavya". If you know even the basics of storytelling or filmmaking, you know that this is quite important. This implies that you, the viewer, do not know the real story and the one you know is either incomplete or false.
He begins, in a memorable instance, by asking ChatGPT for a summary to grasp the popular interpretation of the story of Eklavya and Drona. I have THOUGHTS about using a machine learning tool that is trained on data that is infamously biased and lacking when it comes to anything that isn't American, but that would be digressing from the point. ChatGPT provides him a summary that mentions that Eklavya was denied Drona's tutelage because he was of a lower caste. After this, the guy proceeds to recite the lines where Eklavya is mentioned in the Adi parva of the Sanskrit Mahabharat that we refer to as Vyasa's Mahabharat. He expresses surprise at how Eklavya is introduced as being the son of the "king" of the nishads (I think leader is a better word that should've been used but the Sanskrit text has a notorious habit of having just really questionable ways of referring to people, if you've read it you know.) Which is found HILARIOUS. Bro, what do you mean you're surprised? This is COMMON knowledge, I fear.
He mentions how being the son of the nishaad's leader/king effectively puts him on the same level as Arjun and that they're both princes. He says that this means Eklavya isn't shudra or dalit (there is a word that's curiously absent here that I'll mention in a bit.) Now, this one of those parts where the choice information he presents the viewer with is bizarre. Since I promised I'll give it a fair shot, I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt and assume this is a fault of him not researching enough and not willful omission. Maybe he just doesn't know. The information he's given here is correct, mostly. What he DOESN'T explain is who the nishads, as a group are. I'll fill in the blanks for him.
The nishad are said to be a group of tribal people who reside in the hills. The text he reads out even has the word "tribal" in it but the guy sort of glosses over it? The nishads are sort of like an aggregate grouping of different tribal populations and not the name of a specific tribe. Kind of. But the mention is still significant. See, the Mahabharata, especially the Sanskrit text, has this Thing™ that it does where it's incredibly rare to find a mention of tribal populations who are said to be human, many of the other mentioned tribal groups are demi-humans or non-humans or just straight up rakshahsas.
Eklavya is said to be the adopted son of Hiranyadhanus, the aforementioned king/leader of the nishads. The Harivamsa Purana part of the Sanskrit text (which is a giant-ass genealogy section where it traces the family line from the start of existence to the birth of Krishna) mentions that biologically he's the son of Devashrava, Vasudev's brother, which makes him Krishna's cousin by blood. Eklavya was abandoned by Devashrava in the forest and Hiranyadhanus found him and raised him as his own.
This makes Eklavya a tribal boy, I would use the word adivasi but people might disagree so I'll just say he has a tribal heritage, not by blood but by his upbringing. The man in the video says that Eklavya isn't a shudra, or dalit or untouchable, which is technically true. There's a missing word here that's doing a lot of heavy lifting for him, though. He says that Eklavya is a Kshatriya, which is DEBATEABLE because in the epic we've seen time and time again that blood doesn't matter and it's the society that does. With this, hopefully not to y'all, new information we might understand how the guy's assertion that Arjuna and Eklavya are on equal footing is shaky at best.
He continues to explain that in the text the reasoning why Drona refuses Eklavya is because he'd already promised he'd make Arjun The Best Archer. Since, he's bound by obligation to the Kurus, he can't afford to let Eklavya outshine his kuru students. The man proceeds to assert that in the text there is no caste-based discrimination happening here. Ergo, he concludes, the story of Eklavya doesn't have a caste aspect to it. If you believe otherwise, you're uneducated and need to learn the Truth and not fall into Propoganda. (I'm trying to be charitable to the guy but his tone when he says the word "propoganda" is dripping with disdain and it's making it very hard for me to remain charitable.) He ends this section this way.
This guy says he's given you all the facts. He's cited his source and he's said the complete truth. He hasn't. In this man's viewpoint, the complete and true Mahabharat is the Sanskrit text. Which, as you know, ISN'T what the entirety of the Mahabharat is and claiming that it is is a narrow perspective to see it. (Which is FUNNY considering this guy has a whole section towards the end of the video about Nuance and it's ironic that he's unwilling to provide the same nuance about the epic to his trusting audience.) Maybe he just isn't insane enough like me to know that it isn't the entire Mahabharat. It's possible.
There is a viewpoint that declares that the Sanskrit Text is the primary source and everything else isn't "canon". There's a SPECIFIC word for it but I will not say it because it's like a boogeyman word on hindublr, at least, so I'll omit the word in this post. This man, from what I've seen, shares this viewpoint.
I disagree.
The Mahabharat, is first and foremost a collection of oral traditions of storytelling that were written down much later. This means that the entire corpus of work that is this mammoth of an epic consists of the thousands of written texts, poetry, plays, songs, folk tales, recently it also includes cinematic adaptations, bedtime stories that your elders might have told you, and lastly, popular culture for better or for worse. This is my viewpoint and I feel it provides for a much better lens to engage with the story. Otherwise, you're denying the story of the rich tradition and heritage it was forged in.
The guy in the video wonders why the story of Eklavya is more popular than Satyakama Jabali and there are a lot of reasons for it. First is that the epic is simply more popular and, in many ways, more fun than the upanishad stories. Second is that the story of Eklavya captured people's minds because it's a story that has strife and the ending is unsatisfactory. Tragedies inspire emotions and connection in a way that comedies do not. There are many more reasons but I'll stop listing them.
It's not a coincidence or happenstance that there are caste dynamics added in the popular interpretation of the story. There are even seeds of this in the Sanskrit text, if this guy is truly only looking at that alone, Eklavya being a tribal kid, the way his physical appearance is described in the text, the way he's stopped from sharing a space with the kuru princes etc. If a variety of people who have historically faced similar things especially when it comes to education and find themselves mirrored in Eklavya? That's not Propaganda, as the guy puts it. It's just how stories naturally evolve and grow. It's people reading between the lines. There's no conspiracy at play. Just people finding something to relate to when they cannot relate to any other character.
I can write essays on how caste and varna show up in the Mahabharat (and I might, if even ONE person asks me for it) but to sum it down, it's a task of examining exactly who and what KIND of people are absent from the story. The Invisible People, if you will. You can count on your fingers how many shudra, dalit and adivasi figures are in the Mahabharat.
Drona is a teacher who fails at being a teacher in this instance. (The Mahabharat in many ways is a story of people failing to do their Duty. There's a certain peacock feather wearing guy who does a whole song and dance about it. It can cover a whole book. It's quite popular. Maybe you've heard of it?) Even if you ignore the caste dynamics reading of it, you cannot deny that the man just sucked at being a teacher in that moment when he denied education to a student, whatever his reasoning may be. He brutally asks for the kid to maim himself and again, even the Sanskrit text describes this action of Drona as cruel. He creates a barrier for Eklavya to stop him from continuing to practice his archery.
It's not surprising that Drona is read as a stand in for an education system that sucks at being an education system that does its job. Again, it's not a conspiracy or propaganda. It's people trying to connect to a story through the prism of their life experiences.
It is not my place to tell people what to believe and what not to believe. It's not the guy in the video's either, despite what he says. People's interpretations are personal to them. What is my place is to remind people that it's wrong to deny people their interpretations. There are versions and interpretations of the story that I hate or dislike but I'm not standing here and telling you they're not the Truth. This is the nuance that Mahabharat requires that the guy lacks. This is also why I believe his sources and research is lacking in this department.
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Beyond Eklavya
There's a lot of other thoughts and things I want to share about the rest of the video. I'll try to summarise the highlights.
There's a part where he doesn't understand what systemic patriarchy means, exactly, even though he himself gave an EXCELLENT example of it towards the start of the video with Satyakama Jabali's mother's heritage not being considered when it comes to his gotra. It was frustrating because he SAID it. He said the perfect example himself. I almost thought he set it up as a complete circle moment but he hadn't.
I appreciate him bringing a Shaivite perspective because I'm honestly tired of so much Vaishnavism at all times. I love to see different schools of Hinduism actually being practiced and not just one dominating and subsuming the others.
Towards the start of the video, Mod G predicted that the man would go on a "Periyar sucks" rant and I was so delighted that G was so right.
The guy in the video neglects to look at any contemporary research and scholarship about the linguistics and the Aryan migration theory(which he calls the invasion theory, obviously) including the genetic studies.
There's a funny bit where whenever the guy mentions Ambedkar he has to assert that he thinks Ambedkar is anti-hindu. Even when he's praising him. It happened multiple times.
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TL;DR The man in the video fails to provide his viewers with the full picture about the story of Eklavya even when he claims he is.
- Mod S
ALSO
The structure of his arguments are poor especially in the section where he talks about why the North-South divide came about. Does he not know about the field of linguistics and how root languages are established? Telugu as a language has a 'Dravidian' (he seems to hate that word, even though Dravida is not just the anglo word for the southern parts of India) root because of certain features it has. Notice how North Indian languages use Gender. And then, notice how Southern/central or even Adivasi languages use gender. One main reason why Dravidian languages have been speculated to have another root language different to Sankskrit is the counting systems. Its not wrong to say Telugu has sanskrit INFLUENCE, but again, look at WHICH people within the language group use that type of Telugu (spoiler alert, its the 'proper' upper castes). He dismisses that entirely and makes it a whole issue about how the North South divide happened.
Its very clear to me that he has no intention of representing any of the counter arguments to his premise in an honest manner and is instead single mindedly trying to create more propaganda.
-Mod G
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imtryingbuck · 7 months ago
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Family Photos
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo
Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.
Word count: 1,837
Warnings: angst. swearing, divorce mentioned, Eliza being awful. Anymore let me know.
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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His head pounds and his stomach aches, he sits in front of the toilet just in his boxers.
"It's your own fault Buck" comes the voice that belongs to his best friend.
"I know Steven. Stop talking"
"Nope, what you did yesterday at dinner was wrong and uncalled for-"
"What are you talking about?" He grumbles.
"Do you not remember?"
"No"
Which was true, after Bucky pushed himself away from the door after hearing Theo's conversation with Wanda he went straight to his office and started drinking. He remembers Martha coming in and telling him that dinner was ready and then him leaving.
He listens in horror as Steve tells him what he had said, his heart ached when he found out Theo had cried.
"Shit! Fuck I need to talk to her"
"You need to shower first Bucky"
"Bu-"
"No buts, have a shower and then you can talk to her".
Doing as Steve says he waits until the blonde leaves before getting into the shower. It wasn't true what he had said, he wasn't going to Dots. He didn't want to see her again not now that he was married, he wanted to do right by his wife and his non-existent vows.
Thinking of how he was going to fix an already awkward marriage he honestly was coming up empty.
One thing for certain though was he needed to thank Wanda for being the only person to stick up for Theo.
Getting dressed a knock came from the door.
"Buck it's me"
"Come in"
"We've, well you, have a problem"
"What now Steve?"
"Your whores here and Theo's just seen her"
"Shit! And Dots not my whore"
"Sorry. Mistress is here"
"Steve she's nothing to me! I didn't see her last night I swear"
"Yep and the sky's green" Steve rolls his eyes and walks back out of the room.
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"Hi Bucky" Dots voice caused him to groan, he wonders was her voice always that annoyingly loud when he was with her.
"What are you doing here Dolores?"
"Dolores? I've always been Dottie to you"
"Not asking again."
"See someone's woken up on the wrong side of the bed, what isn't your wife satis-" Nat promptly cuts her off by wrapping her hand around the woman's throat and slamming her in to the wall.
Before Bucky would have demanded Natasha to let her go but there are two reasons he didn't, one - he wasn't going to allow a nobody like Dot say anything about his wife and two - the fire in Nat's eyes scared him.
"B-Bucky tell her to get her hands-Bucky help!" Dot wheezed out.
"Dolores why have you came to my home?"
"Need your help"
"Not happening"
"Please Brocks being nasty to me"
Rolling his eyes he walks over to the two women, telling Nat to release her which makes Dot fall on to him, which then makes him push her away.
"Don't touch me. I don't care what Brock says or does to you. I want you to leave my house and never come back, never come near me ever again. Me and you Dot are finished." Turning to Clint "take her outside"
"Gladly, come on" Clint pulls on the woman's arm as she screams at Bucky, who ignores her completely.
"Where's Theo?" He asks Steve.
"She's left with Wanda" Nat says with a smirk.
"Where?"
"I don't know"
Taking his phone out of his pocket he rings Wanda's number. "First she slaps me and now she's not answering her fucking phone"
"You're lucky it wasn't me. I would have sliced your balls off and forced them down your throat" Nat says walking past him.
Leaving Bucky to gulp at the threat.
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On the other side of town Theo and Wanda sit in the back of Wanda's Range Rover as Vision drives.
"So what are we going to your parents for?" Wanda asks.
"I need to ask my father something"
"What?"
Theo was brought up to never lie so lying to Wanda - the one person she trusted more than any other person, makes her want to be sick "I need to ask if I can have some family photos"
"Oh, do you think he'll give them to you?"
"Hopefully. We're here, Wanda you'll need to wait outside though. I'm sorry"
"Oh, are you sure?"
"Yeah"
The car pulls up and Theo jumps out. Walking up the steps she knocks on the front door.
"Hello Miss, I'll get your father" One of the maids says before leaving.
Theo hears her father's heavy footsteps then the door opens wider. "Theo? What are you doing here?" Pulling her into the house by her arm "permission to talk"
"I-I need to ask you something sir"
"What? And hurry up I don't have all day"
"Ca-can you marry one of your daughters to James instead of me sir". She speaks in a low tone.
"Why? You're already married to him"
"We can divorce an-and you can marry one of your daughters to hi-him sir"
"Theo I can't do that-"
"What is that wretched thing doing here?" Eliza walks up to Michael and Theo with disgust written all over her face.
"She wants James to marry one of the other girls instead"
"Brilliant, oh that's fantastic. I'll get the papers read-"
"Eliza stop, she's married to him and that's final"
"But James would be so much happier with one of our daughters instead of the runt, he'll be able to have legitimate children this way"
"What are you talking about?"
"I've told the girls that one of them will get pregnant by James so he can have an heir since his married to the bastard the kids too will be bastards"
Sighing heavily Michael looks at Theo and then at Eliza. "No. My decision is final. Theo go back to your husband and make sure you address him by his title and Eliza do me a favour and fuck off" he walks off leaving the women alone.
"You should have come to me you stupid girl! You know your father wouldn't have changed his mind, saying that I'll be nice and help you. Here's what you'll do my dear, you show him the filth that is your body and he'll divorce you"
"H-how ma'am"
"Tell him you want to have sex, he won't want to touch you after he sees your body" Theo flinches as Eliza's hand comes into contact with her cheek.
"You thought I was going to smack you? No darling you're helping me, now leave"
Theo scrambles out of the door and down the steps, Vision jumps out of the car to open the door for her.
"Theo? You okay?
"I-I'm okay"
"Did you get the photos?"
"N-no. I would like to go back to Mr James's home now"
Wanda sits there puzzled by her friends behaviour and decides against asking, not wanting the woman to shrink back into her shell again.
“Okay let's go home"
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Bucky paces his office, checking his watch every few seconds. His heart was beating faster than it should have been the longer time went on, it had been well over three hours since Theo and Wanda had left the house.
Nobody knew where the two had gone, the regret seeped further into his veins as the memories of the night before became more clearer. Trying Wanda's phone once again he practically growled as the call was dropped.
"Buck they’re back" Steve says from the doorway.
Coming out of the office he moves to the front door where is sees the pair.
"Where the hell have you two been?" Mainly looking at Wanda with his arms crossed.
"Theo wanted to get something from her parents' house, calm down"
"Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"It's dead"
Looking towards Theo, his voice suddenly a lot softer "Did you get what you wanted?"
"N-no Sir"
"What did you just call me?"
“Sir. I'm sorry" her head bows even lower.
"I-don't call me that again"
"B-but your my husband sir"
"Stop!" Regret washed over him as he saw her flinch. "Just, just get inside both of you".
Wanda pulls a face to Bucky who just rolls his eyes at her. "Come on Theo let's get something to eat" taking the woman's hand and leads her inside the home.
"What the hell was all that 'sir' shit about?" Sam asks.
"Fuck knows, l'm gonna have to talk to her. I still need to apologise for last night" sighing as he rubs his face with his hands.
"She's a bit strange isn't she?"
"Shut up."
Walking into the house and heading into the kitchen he watches from the archway as Wanda makes them some food.
"Theo, when you're finished with your food I would like to talk to you please"
"Yes Mr James"
Sighing for the umpteenth time he nods and leaves the kitchen.
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Theo knocks timidly on Bucky's office door, waiting patiently for him to answer.
"Hi, take a seat" He smiles softly. Watching as she moved to sit on the floor he stops her "Theo no sit on a chair, please"
"Sorry sir"
"I want to start off with saying I'm so sorry about last night, I didn't go anywhere other than my club I didn't sleep with anyone I swear"
"It's okay sir"
"Please stop with the sirs and mr’s and it's not okay I shouldn't of spoken about you like that, I had been drinki-“
"It's okay sir"
"Jesus Christ. Stop saying it's okay when it's not and I've told you to stop with the sir shit"
"But you're my husband"
"And? Look it doesn't matter whether we're married or not, you don't have to call me tha-"
She cuts him off, the words that come out her mouth pains him. He's surprised at how his heart turns to lead, they've been married for a week and he still knows nothing about her other than what Wanda has told him. In that week he's made no effort to try apart from telling himself and everyone that he'll do it.
He's already treated her like shit in a sense he's very much like his father which makes his skin crawl.
This isn't how things were supposed to go.
"I have asked my father for a divorce sir"
His blood runs cold, his heart goes still. The confession hangs in the air as he stares at her blankly, trying to figure out if what she had said was real or not.
Truly Bucky thinks his ears are playing tricks on him but noticing the look in her crystal blue eyes he knows that it's not a trick and she's being serious.
Just as he opens his mouth to speak Steve comes barging into the room.
"Buck one of the warehouses is on fire"
"Shit. Fuck" looking at Theo "this conversation isn't over okay, please just give me a chance please that's all I'm asking"
He doesn't wait for a reply as he walks away with Steve.
<Previous   Next>
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Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan
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watchyourbuck · 1 year ago
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Oh god okay here we go
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Why must I go into heavy detail you ask? Well, I am actually unable to shut up so here it is them 10 TOP “there’s no chance this is a straight friendship” MOMENTS
“You can have my back any day” aka the enemies to lovers speedrun. The immediate feeling we’re supposed to get from the screen is jealousy. Buck is jealous of the new recruit because he’s hot, a medic, a veteran, whatever. I’ll give it to you children, he WAS jealous. But then they go on call and they get into immediate danger bc 911 is a drama and then Eddie’s very keen on being Buck’s partner. Nothing queer til then right? WRONG. Eddie’s line is pretty normal but the way Buck reacts isn’t. I have had my fair share of “huh this person I didn’t like is actually cool” moments but nEVER have I once sucked in a breath, forgot how to blink, rushed in my words OR stared at said person like I’d like for them to be my lover. Three points to Gayfindor.
“Is your son REALLY the reason you don’t date?” This line and the dialogue that follows makes absolutely no sense from the non-queer glass. Alright he asks bc he wants to know why two girls practically launched themselves at him and he declined (such a kind offer lmao) but… why are you standing so close? Why do you bump shoulders with him as you walk? Most importantly, what the FUCK does Eddie’s smirk mean after “they’re not my type either… not anymore.” Idk about you guys but when I’m not on the market I’m actually not in it 😀 and I don’t go around looking at my best friend like I’d consider fucking her (I’m actually kinda yikes about that thought bc she’s like my sister). Bottom line is: if you’re willing to fuck your best friend, there’s attraction. That scenes oozes attraction and I’d be willing to white glove challenge a body language reader.
The Tsunami. YES okay, there are far many moments in between but I also need to make this a somewhat readable list so here we go. We’re gonna pretend for a hot second Buck wants to save his best friend’s son, and not the child that he considers his own bc I’m tired. Let’s skip to the far end of this (be GrAtEfuL I’m skipping the whole sacrifice that this episode entailed. Buck was willing to die, to never sit down again if it meant looking for Chris [& the utter fear he has to face Eddie]. It’s a lot). Now, I do not OWN a child (thank god) but if I did, I wouldn’t be particularly comfortable with a simple friend from work taking care of them. They could be my very best friend from work and I’d still feel a little icky -at least nervous- about it. Yet Eddie not only takes Christopher back A F T E R the tsunami (Chris could’ve died and Eddie is nothing short of apprehensive), but he says ‘there’s no one I trust with my son more than you’. Um. Not his wife. Not his family (CHRIS’ family), not Abuela, not Tia Pepa. Buck. Who he… just met? Surely it isn’t bc he’s uncle buck… I don’t believe even Maddie has said that to Buck, where he’s actually, yknow, UNCLE BUCK. Co-parenting is not something done between a parent and a friend, and I know this shit bc my mom raised me with a few of her friends and guys,,, she never said that to any of them. Also Chris is practically never seen with anyone else from the 188firefam alone.
The Kitchen Scene™️. I have gone on rants about this before but truth be told THIS is the scene that conveys the MOST canonically sexual tension between them. We can joke about it all y’all want but this scene is unhinged. I don’t think Oliver and Ryan were aware that they should’ve been friends in this scene. The way the conversation shifts from apologetic sad puppy eyes to “you’re throwing your punches at the wrong guy” to I CAN TAKE YOU (???) you can what? “Oh you think?” “Oh I know” HELLO? Pls don’t even get me started on how Buck approaches Eddie, the way he’s puffy-chested, his hand on his belt, eyeing him up and down, nearly biting his lip, cocky grin,,,,, explain to me in hetero. I’m waiting😐 guys c’mon exPLAIN IT TO ME IN HETERO. The way Eddie glances to the side bc where’s Chris? And h o w he sips his beer right after, smirking, tiLTING His head. I’m sorry this is not straight in any way. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to accept this.
Clipboard Buck. Alright u got me!!! This one’s a lil silly, but so is my life, so it’s fair game. Clipboard Buck is annoying as fuck, he’s so fucking annoying. The entire firefam picks up on this, no one wants to be around,,,, except Eddie. You could argue that it’s bc he likes him as a friend and he’s just indulging …. 👁️👄👁️ sure but he also hides from Interim Captain Han soooo anyway what’s fun about this is how willing Eddie is to comply with everything he says. He’s basically twirling his hair, kicking his feet, smiling & blushing and “check!” 🧍🏽‍♀️ buck is kinky (that is canon e.g the ring cutter) and he gets high on authority and Eddie does backflips to meet his kinks. Exhibit 5 complete.
The Lawsuit Arc acka the first divorce era😔✊🏼. This one makes me rage a little bit because I get really upset at Buck for acting recklessly. Like baby let yourself HEAL. Anyway,,,, onto what brings us here 🥷🏼. It’s canon that the entire team is mad at Buck, they don’t really wanna bump into him, can’t really speak to him,,, but Eddie? Eddie’s filled with wrath. I cannot stress enough the fact that he uses Chris as an excuse “do you even know how much he misses you? how could you! you’re not here”. The way he expresses himself, and we’re choosing to ignore the fact that he HIMSELF misses Buck,, that’s how you talk to someone who has a responsibility with the child, not the fun coworker that randomly shows up @ your house with pizza every once in a while. “I couldn’t even call you to bail me out of jail”. He’s so u p s e t that for the first time they know each other he can’t rely on Buck when he’s hurting and in danger. And pls for the love of Jesus Christ my lord & savior don’t tell me that it’s a 118 thing bc he calls Ronda Rousey to come pick him up 🎅🏻 that grocery store scene is.. interesting.
Eddie Underground. Alright we’re getting serious now guys,,, might as well put on your thinking caps on this one. We all know the story, this isn’t a latest ep recap soooo The wAY Buck’s the ONLY ONE who desperately calls Eddie’s name when he’s fallen underground, amidst the heavy rain and dirt. Listen to me: he starts digging with his hands. With his bare hands I tell you!!!! 😩 Bobby has to physically pull him back as he cries on his lap. Buck is a smart man, he wouldn’t do something that’s completely illogic, he knows he can’t dig him out but he’s so desperate. His voice breaks, he can’t breathe, he becomes impulsive, reckless, impatient. Do I need to remind y’all the reason he wasn’t the one getting strapped to go underground??? “You’re not going down there. So we can have two cut off ropes?” Everyone knows he’s willing to sacrifice his integrity for Eddie bc his life doesn’t make sense without him. “We’ll get him back for you”
The Shooting + “I’ve made u my son’s dad lol”. When Eddie gets shot the world freezes for Buck. He’s left standing there, staring as Eddie’s blood splatters on him. He has to be tackled down. Even then, he’s unable to move, to breathe. He just looks as he bleeds out, and theN he snaps back into reality, bracing himself to go under the truck (foregoing his own trauma - I’ve said this before) and preparing for the amount of strength it’s gonna take to pull him under it. He screams at him to hold on, and later when he manages to pull him inside the truck he tells him he needs him to hang on. He rips his uniform open, he cries and screams,,, then Eddie wakes up, and he asks BUCK if HES okay. Bc he saw blood :( also as @butraura pointed out, he can’t die if Buck’s dying bc what about Chris? He only lets himself drift off when he knows Buck’s okay. Then we got The Will Reveal™️ also so unhinged. “You knew I wouldn’t turn it down” right what is this guys??? That was a year ago. He added him to his will A yEaR aGo. Idk about y’all but I haven’t added my friends to my will😀 also Buck’s the one who tells Chris ??? (I’m being very brief on this subject). Also “Because, Evan” shut up🧎🏽‍♀️
& 10. The Lightning Strike + “She sees me”. I’m doing these together bc I haven’t watched this episodes yet but I’m an addict so I’ve spoiled myself to the brim. The way Eddie screams Buck’s name, the way he saves him, “do more” h e l l o ?? The absolute PAIN in Eddie’s eyes, “you died Buck” “3 minutes and 17 seconds”, “his humor hasn’t changed” & the fact that he listens to Buck on his super genius math theory. And then Buck goes and says “I feel like Natalia sees me” ok. I mean my feelings mean nothing but Eddie’s face ??? That’s a man that knows he’s waited too long.
I rest my case. I’m missing a lot of scenes (like a lot omg Abby comes back, Buck under the Truck, Buck vomiting blood, the Taylor Arc) & y’all can argue in the comments about them, or add shit or try to dismantle mine, honestly the floor is yours idc wHat u do, just know you won’t convince me otherwise 🤸🏽these two are in love & that’s pretty much that on THAT. PERIOD.
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