#removing myself from the equation

[jerzwriter]

We don't have a dress.

My daughter is going to put me in my grave.

[a-bitch-made-fullmetal]

GOOD morning. keen observers of Me as a person on the internet might know that I've published a couple of fma fanfics, one of which is titled "chance encounter". that fic, of course, is about Hohenheim being a transphobic piece of shit because I love making fictional fathers evil for no reason.

another fun fact, that fic was originally meant to be from Ed's pov before I changed my mind and made it from Roy's instead because in my head certain elements worked better that way. but I recently came across the original draft, and I quite like it actually, so I'm posting it here!

trigger warning for transphobia and misgendering and also Ray's Customary Hohenheim Character Slander™

At first, Edward thought he wouldn't recognise him.

Hoped he wouldn't recognise him.

It had been over ten years, and he doubted the man had spared them more than a handful of thoughts in the decade he had left them to fend for themselves.

He couldn't possibly recognise him.

Ed shook his head, didn't brush his bangs back when they fell into his face. His gaze landed on the debris littering the street, the torn up cobblestones, the loose wires sparking away from the base of a toppled streetlight.

“Fullmetal.” Edward turned and watched the Colonel step up beside him, surveying the damage they had done as he tugged his ignition gloves off. He waited for him to say something else, rubbing at his faintly aching wrist–sprained, probably–but Mustang stayed silent.

He turned his attention to his little brother, clunking around awkwardly in the background like he didn't know what to do with himself.

At least he didn't have to worry about being recognised.

Ed swallowed against the sour taste on his tongue.

Havoc approached the man idling on the other side of the street, undoubtedly staring at Ed from behind reflective glasses, and he angled himself further away.

“Well, we got our guy–let’s go,” he said and didn't acknowledge the strange look Mustang shot him.

“...sure. The team can handle the rest.” Edward trudged past him, only to screech to a halt two steps later. “Alphonse! C’mon, let's pack it up.”

There was a brief silence before heavy clanking footsteps drew nearer, and Ed closed his eyes, praying for the first time in a long time.

“Alright, boys-” the Colonel began as he fell into step next to them, Hawkeye the ever dutiful shadow at his back.

A heavy hand clapped down on Ed's flesh shoulder, whirling him around with enough force his braid whipped behind his back. He knocked the unwelcome appendage off without thinking about it, moving a quick step backwards to get out of reach.

Golden eyes stared down at him from behind wired frames, and Ed's mouth pulled into a sneer. He was dimly aware of Alphonse's quiet brother somewhere next to him, followed by a metallic click he immediately recognised as the sound of a gun being cocked.

“Rebecca,” Hohenheim said, and Edward reared backwards as if struck-

God, he wished he had just struck him.

That would have hurt less.

“Dad,” Alphonse said quietly, and Hohenheim’s cold eyes flitted from Ed to Al and back, not paying any mind to Hawkeye and her gun, or the fact that Mustang pulled his ignition gloves back on and readied himself to snap.

“I could have sworn you were a girl the last time I saw you,” he said, and Ed balled his fists so tightly the metallic screech of automail filled the otherwise silent street.

“You must be mistaking me for someone else,” he pressed past gritted teeth, eyes narrowed in a vicious glare, his chest so tight he could barely breathe.

“Let's go, Fullmetal,” the Colonel said, voice calm but fingers still poised to snap, and all of a sudden he experienced an appreciation for Mustang's presence he had never known before.

“Yeah.” He turned on his heel, ready to get as far away from this as fast as possible, when a hand closed around his flesh–injured–wrist and yanked him back.

He yelped and attempted to free himself, but Hohenheim didn't budge, and his wrist hurt.

“Unhand him!” Mustang demanded at once, and Hawkeye narrowed her eyes, clicking off the safety.

“She's my daughter,” was all Hohenheim said, and yet all the air rushed from Ed's lungs as if he had taken a good punch to the solar plexus. “Rebecca- you're with the military?”

Ed stared up at the man in pressing silence. It was like he was watching the scene unfold as a third party, standing next to his frozen body, unaffected.

“Dad-” Al began next to him, taking a hulking step forward, his usually soft tinny voice stern.

“My name is Edward,” he cut in, toneless and blank faced, and Hohenheim’s brows knotted in a frown.

“Let go of my subordinate, I will not be asking again-” Mustang hissed from somewhere behind his shoulder, Alphonse audibly nodding his agreement.

“I'm her father,” Hohenheim said as if that was all reasoning required and yanked Ed off balance with a firm tug on his trapped wrist, making him stumble another step forward. “What's going on, Rebecca? What happened to you brother? What did you do?”

Edward's breath caught in his tight throat. His wrist throbbed. He bit back a wince.

“It's Edward,” he breathed again, but his voice was weak and small and barely audible, and he hated himself for it.

“You think I don't recognise my own daughter? I was there for your birth, I gave you your name–what is this, some kind of charade for the sake of your military career?” the last words dripped from his lips like poison, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses, and his fingers tightened around his wrist. This time, Edward couldn't suppress his pained whimper.

“You're hurting him!” Alphonse called, one armoured hand shooting out, but Hohenheim yanked his hand back as if burned before he could make contact. Ed ripped his arm away, cradling it to his chest, and took two quick steps backwards. The added distance wasn't nearly enough.

Something in the man's eyes changed, then, softened, and he let his hand drop to his side, fingers flexing.

“I didn't mean-” he said to Ed, who just glared and sneered, but paused before something akin to an apology could actually leave his mouth–Edward couldn't say he was surprised.

Hohenheim turned to Alphonse. Hawkeye moved from her place beside the Colonel to Edward's other side on silent soles, so that he was flanked by both adults. Inexplicably, something tight inside him uncoiled ever so slightly.

“Him?” Hohenheim said as if he hadn't heard every single time someone had referred to Edward before this instance.

Al nodded. “He's my brother,” he said softly, and Edward swallowed hard, still so affected by the way his little brother spoke those words, effortless and earnest.

The man's mouth tightened into a hard line, and he lowered his head, the reflection of his glasses hiding his eyes from view.

“Your mother would be heartbroken if she could see you like this,” he said quietly, and the numbness encompassing Ed was devoured by an inferno of rage as though with a snap of the Colonel's fingers.

“You do not get to talk about our mother,” he snarled, storming out from the protective cocoon of Mustang and Hawkeye to crowd into Hohenheim's space, his face twisted with fury.

“You-” He jabbed his automail finger into the man's chest, hard. “keep her name out of your mouth, do you understand me? You have no fucking right-”

“Edward.” Somehow, his real name from that man's mouth felt more like a slap to the face than the other one had. “Understand- you took her daughter from her. You took my daughter from me.”

His arm dropped. Spots danced across his vision as though he had taken a blow to the nose, and Ed stumbled backwards-

Right into a pair of strong arms.

“Alright, that's enough. Boys, we're leaving,” Mustang said, low and controlled, and took Ed by his automail arm with a gentleness that was by no means necessary–but still appreciated, even though he wouldn't admit to that out loud–, turning him around, breaking his gaze away from Hohenheim.

Hawkeye lowered her gun, but didn't put it away yet. Alphonse let out a muffled sigh, and then he fell into step behind them.

“Wait- Flame Alchemist,” Hohenheim called, and Mustang let out a long breath, his brow creased with annoyance.

“What?” he snapped, only halfway turned around, his arm a protective barrier between Ed and that man.

“They're my children. I have a right to them.”

A burst of hysterical laughter tore from Ed's throat, but neither man acknowledged him. Al lowered his head with a soft creak, mumbling a tiny brother that tugged on something deep inside his ribcage.

Mustang scoffed. “They're orphans on paper. I'm their legal guardian. You have the right to fuck right off.”

With that, he wrapped his arm tighter around Ed and firmly led him away, Alphonse following without another word.

His chest hurt, and his wrist throbbed, but the tight knot in his stomach loosened with every step he took.

[artificial-condition]

Time to start looking for new jobs babes 🥰

[petrichorium]

I haven’t refreshed my dash yet but I think I’ll take an impromptu hiatus

[millies-theme]

Staying offline today, its Valentine's and i always celebrated beatrices birthday today so for my own sake im staying off :v:

[bi0mancy]

i'm probably gonna move hazel to @defi4nce & delete this account bc logging into my blogs is just making me really unhappy & lonely so may as well have everything in the same space.

[tropicana-on-the-walkway]

Maturing is not letting other people's bad mood affect your good mood

[mikeshardbongwater]

.

[the-physicality]

i don't even know what to say

i had a bad feeling about this game ever since i went to watch and it was on *m*z*n pr*me

what happened to the offense

what happened to the defense [what happened to the defense is that atlanta has one 3 point threat and apparently washington has 8?

monique i thought had a very good game

celeste did well

natasha mack again had good impact

honestly i thought we took better care of the ball tonight than we have in a while but the shots were just not falling

i'm still annoyed at nate's rotations and honestly i think they are fucking up the first quarters

like i get that he's working on rotations or what ever but if people are getting points [the first points, the only points so far] maybe keep those people in instead of pulling them halfway through the quarter

i want to say this politely: it seems like he has pre planned rotations that he's going to implement regardless of the context of the game -_-

like we lost the 1st by 9, we lost the 2nd by 9, we lost the 3rd by 4 and we won the 4th by 9. thus the game by 13

if we lose the 1st by 5 instead that means that we've either played better defense or scored more points which keeps us hotter going into the 2nd, making it easier to play well, etc.

[hero-dualies-3]

they should just fucking shoot me tbh

[chlopieno]

This friday sucks super bad so far.

[pizzabookbuying]

thinking about the fanfic I read where one of the characters upon his death traveled back in time and how I was like oh cool I love second chance fics but then the timeline ended up making him like early 20s while his eventual love interest was like 12 and I was like…oh…maybe he’ll leave because it’s too weird for him and then when he eventually comes back they’ll actually have to meet again that’s kind of cute.

But no. No. He stayed there. And she developed a crush on him. And his pov was sooooo creepy ffff ugh the things I end up reading for a rarepair because I’m desperate for fics

[yououghtaknow]

just woke up and i am INSTANTLY experiencing some of the worst bpd feelings i've had in a While

[anim-ttrpgs]

Reading the book, and I'm already loving it. I agree with a lot of the things y'all say in it (players control the characters, not the narrator, etc.), but I was surprised at the strong insistence on 3rd person play.

Personally I like 1st person play because it helps me with immersion. If I play in 3rd person then my mental camera goes 3rd person, which feels more like playing a video game and removes that thrill of embodying someone else and living in a new world.

Usually I see people either take a strong pro 1st person stance, or a noncommittal stance, but this is the first time I've come across a game that insists on the 3rd person. I'm curious about the reasoning behind it. Was it just a philosophical decision, or did it bear out in playtesting that 3rd person was the better method? In the book y'all acknowledge that 3rd person play doesn't eliminate the threat of griefing from bad faith players.

Y'all clearly put a lot of thought into the game, so that really interested me. Could be a good learning opportunity!

I passed this on to one of our team and this is what she had to say:

In addition to our own home table just preferring to play in 3rd person, we believe that perspective is an important element of TTRPGs that doesn't get explored very often in the modern landscape. The games we play are composed of language - not just the words on the page, but the words we say at the table. Changing the verbiage will create a different emotional space, and a different experience. That zoomed out mental camera you describe is part of the point! In any TTRPG, players are always two things: participant, and audience. The narration we employ at the table affects the game world, yes, but we are also the only people there to see it play out. Eureka strongly emphasizes the "audience" side of that equation, and wants to frame the "participant" side as an act of authorship and discovery rather than one of inhabiting the world.

Just on a fundamental level, perspective is a defining part of any media - the camera angle in a movie or video game, the person of a book's prose, who tells the story, and who they tell it for. The way we frame a story changes the response it evokes. As you say, you've seen either strong pro-1st-person stances or neutral ones, but not a strong pro-3rd-person stance. I don't think that's because 1st person is inherently better for this sort of game, I think its because there is a tendency in the hobby right now - for a variety of reasons - to treat TTRPGs like a form of improv theater. That's not a problem in isolation per se, but I think it's one that limits what the medium can be or do. TTRPGs can be improv theater, but is that all they can be?

On a final note, we have also seen the insistence on 1st-person play and the approach of "embodying" a character occasionally cause real harm when the people involved have trouble separating player and character. That's also part of the reason we're so insistent about these being two separate people, because investigators tend to do some pretty messed up things (this being a horror focused game, after all), and we don't want people equivocating their friends with the characters they play when that level of emotional intensity is involved. Many people who play in 1st person are able to engage with that in a healthy way and understand the difference, of course, but I think it's hard to deny that the language makes that equivocation easier.

- @ashweather (person from out team who doesn't normally run this blog)

Adding on myself, another thing that I always like to bring up in this discussion is that first-person verbiage did not used to be so universal! Playing in the hobby even 4 or 5 years ago, you'd see (or at least I would see) a mix of third and first person verbiage at tables, and even people who used both interchangably. It's only in the past few years that third-person verbiage for TTRPGs has gone practically extinct, and i think most of the blame lies at the feet of big-budget "actual play" shows like Critical Role being many people's only reference for how a TTRPG can be played. Critical Role uses first-person, so therefor that's how TTRPGs are played.

I've even had people tell me on multiple separate occassions "that's wrong" when I'm trying to use third-person verbiage for TTRPGs, when playing with rulebooks which explicitly say in their text early on "you can use 1st or 3rd person to describe your character's actions"! (most, if not all, D&D edition rulebooks say this!)

In closing, yeah, if Eureka were a video game, it would be in third-person. Eureka doesn't want you in its world, it wants a character.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

I'd like to "yes and" this and elaborate :3

if you don't like tommyinnit (or. Anything) that's okay! You don't have to like everything. It's impossible to. But your taste is not universal. And Tommy HAS grown, he just hasn't grown in a way that makes him palatable to you. He didn't "not mature", he just didn't do it in the same direction you did. Some adults like dick jokes. Some adults, especially nerodivergent ones, are loud and weird. (Although to be honest he's quieter in his videos, specifically, than he used to be during recordings. I actually find him very mellowed out on video compared to streams or older videos, at times.) he has a fanbsse because people like different things.

Like... One of my favorite musicals of all time? Is cats. You know, Cats? The show everyone makes fun of because it's cringe and weird, and then a movie studio butchered it into a horrible adaptation in 2019? That cats. I love cats, and Mr mistoffolees is my favorite character (and the song about him is my favorite song). Most people say cats is dumb and uncomfortable and weird, but I think (for the stage show) it's silly and fun and charming. You can think of the most weird, cringe, awful thing you can imagine and for someone else, it just doesn't hit that way for whatever reason.

Everyone is growing and changing but we don't always go the same way. And part of life is realizing that sometimes, movies and music and yes, people, that you used to love, don't click with you anymore. The puzzle pieces that used to click together are both different shapes now, and the new shapes don't connect.

This last part might be a bit of a reach but I saw that this ask mentioned that you're 15, and a lot of people's teenage years are spent distancing themselves from "childish" things, and cringing, and trying to sort of...stake out a place in the world, and a large part of that is 1) throwing old things out 2) fighting for your place in the adult society you're being ushered into. I think it's no coincidence that right now is the time where you're feeling like jokes and humor that's weird or "juvenile" is bad, or a sign of being immature all around. You're probably not going to turn around a few years later and like that stuff again (I mean some people do but it depends) but you are at a pivotal time in figuring out how you slot into things. So lashing out at things you consider cringe or beneath you is pretty expected.

But consider it this way... is it fair to ask Tommyinnit, and all of his subscribers, to change their whole sense of humor, their personality, the way they carry themselves, all to be palatable to you?

There's probably tons of people who find things about your sense of humor and personality unpalatable. Should you lose your individuality and just sort of be whatever they want you to be, for them?

Who gets to decide how we all have to change? Who gets to pick the mold we squeeze into? What if culture changes, do we repeat the process all over again? What about different cultures, different countries?

The disdain you (seem to) feel for cringe things is your brain trying to help you get into a good place, socially, and fit into the circles you want to be in and make friends with the kinds of people you want to learn from and emulate. But it doesn't mean that those people are actually a problem. It's an internal standard/guidance, not a universal law. It can help you, it can hurt you, but however you use (or don't use) it to mold yourself, it definitely shouldn't be used as a force on others.

I genuinely don’t know how tommyinnit has a fanbase anymore. He has failed to ever mature and is genuinely annoying. I loved him when I was 11-12 and i’m almost 15 and can’t stand him anymore so I think that says a lot about him (and his fanbase because most of them are just as immature)

I think it’s moreso that you just don’t like his style of humor anymore, and that’s okay.

You’ll realize as you continue to grow that there are lots of people who feel this way— that there is no way to enjoy any of it— about the things you love, and you will also realize that it’s wrong for them to view you or your interests as “stupid” just because they don’t get the same enjoyment as you do.

[navybrat817]

Oh, this smirk!

The Rejects

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, mentioned Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mentioned Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Bucky address the elephant in the room.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Flirting, friends with benefits (not Bucky x Reader), light angst, tension, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

A/N: This was meant to be something else completely, but the muse did what she wanted. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You jealous?”

Looking up from the Scrabble board, you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at Bucky’s smug expression. “Jealous of what exactly?” you asked, downing the rest of your drink and not flinching at the sting.

“Come on. You know what,” he answered, crossing his arms as he leaned on the table. “Or do I need to say it?”

“Please, enlighten me,” you said as you placed a square on the board. You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you’d play his game. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”

“Steve and Natasha sleeping together,” he answered.

Big boy actually said it.

You allowed the eyeroll to happen when he smirked. They left the two of you alone almost an hour ago and it was a feat that you went that long without acknowledging it. “No, I’m not. Why would I be?”

Bucky pointed at you with his beer bottle. “Because you used to hook up with Steve.”

“And you used to sleep with Natasha,” you said without skipping a beat. That wiped the smirk off his face. “So sorry you got stuck playing Scrabble with a reject like me.”

You didn’t have super soldier hearing the way he did, but you heard his teeth grind when he selected his next piece. “You’re not a reject,” he said above a whisper.

Neither of you spoke as you kept playing. After a bad mission months ago, you slept with Steve. It wasn’t a big deal. Adrenaline was high and he gave you the release you needed. Expecting it to be a one time thing, it surprised you when he shoved you against a wall days later. You fell into a “friends with benefits” arrangement with him after that.

While he treated you well enough, you both maintained that it wouldn’t go beyond sex. From what Natasha told you, she had a similar arrangement with Bucky. It worked for your needs.

You were content.

Until you noticed how Steve and Natasha’s gazes lingered on each other after briefings. How easily they fell in step beside each other despite their sometimes opposing views. She trusted the Captain, which wasn’t easy for the former spy. Steve respected her and that said something. You accepted that they needed each other and quietly removed yourself from the equation.

Bucky did the same.

“You know what? I am jealous,” you admitted, the game forgotten at that point. “But not because they’re sleeping together.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched, like he didn’t quite believe you. “Then why are you?”

Glancing down the hall before you looked back at Bucky, you sighed. “As happy as I am for them, I'm a little sad for myself. Because they found something in each other that no one has found with me,” you told him, narrowing your eyes when his slightly widened. “What?” you asked. If the former Winter Soldier made fun of you or laughed, you wouldn’t hesitate to smack him because you weren’t afraid of him.

“Nothing,” he said, the index finger on his vibranium hand tapping the table in a fast motion. “I just understand how you feel.”

Shame flooded you for thinking he’d poke fun at your vulnerability. He wasn’t a bad guy. Far from it. In fact, Steve never got jealous or insecure when you talked to Bucky and Natasha hadn’t either. They encouraged the two of you to become friends. Looking back, it was easy to think they supported the friendship to phase you two out. But you knew that wasn’t the case.

They weren’t cruel.

What would’ve happened if I slept with Bucky instead of Steve? Is it wrong that I’ve thought about that more than once?

“So, why are a couple of 'rejects' like us who are not jealous of our former lovers sitting here playing board games instead of going out and looking for ‘the one’?” you teased.

“Because I was too chicken to ask you out tonight, even after I got the okay from Steve.”

What?

You blinked once. Twice. “Your best friend, who has been inside me, is cool with you asking me out?”

He winced at your choice of words. “Well, when you put it like that. Yeah?” he replied, before he straightened up, confidence filling those pretty blue eyes of his. “I don’t give a fuck that you slept with Steve. I’m asking you out.”

Your smile turned a little warmer and you reigned your claws in. “You want to take me on a date?” you asked, your heart swelling when he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "If this is just to fill a void, I don't think it's a good idea."

If Bucky needed that, you understood. But could you do that again? No. Not with him.

"I'm asking because I want to, doll. You're a badass and I like your company," he said. That was a big deal since Bucky only seemed to like a handful of people. "And if you’ll let me, I’ll ruin you.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know,” you said in a singsong voice, stretching and purposely sticking your chest out to draw his gaze to your breasts. “We’ve both done the whole friends with benefits thing before and-”

He reached across the table to take your hand. “You wouldn’t be my friend. You’d be my girl.”

Your stomach did a funny flip, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The word “yes” was on the tip of your tongue. Because you had a right to be happy. All of you did.

I slept with Steve. Natasha slept with Bucky. Steve is sleeping with Natasha. The next logical step is sleeping with Bucky, right? Who knew math could be fun?

“What would Nat think?” you asked. Though you were certain she had no feelings for Bucky beyond friendship, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable just because you were fine with her and Steve.

Your phone buzzed a half a minute later with a text from the former Black Widow herself.

“Go for it. He'll be good to you and you deserve it.”

Bucky chuckled when you looked back down the hall. “Steve and his fucking hearing,” you muttered before you threw your head back. “Stop listening to our conversation! That’s rude!”

“Sorry!” Steve yelled back.

You smiled at Bucky, the atmosphere lighter even with the tension. “Okay. You beat me in Scrabble, you pick where we go for our first date. I win, I get to pick and no complaints.”

His eyes lit up as your heart raced. “Deal,” he said, the smirk slowly appearing on his face again. “But the loser has to play the next game naked.”

“Game on, Barnes.”

So, there we go. 😂 I hope you lovelies liked it! More of these two with A Couple of Cuties. Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi