#which again is probably better for me to wait

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I was in a car accident yesterday (car took most of the damage, I’m ok other than bruises and sore muscles) and the whole thing has been a whirlwind of insurance and hospital and half asleep crying. I was wondering if I could request James potter x reader for comfort in a situation like that? I’m going through it rn lol hope you’re having a good day :)

Oh I'm sorry lovely! I had a very similar thing happen a little over a year ago, it's sooooo exhausting even when luckily no one is seriously hurt. Thanks for requesting, hope you're having a good/better day too <33

cw: past car accident, no details but talk of general aftermath of police questioning, insurance, etc.

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 799 words

The way James half-jogs up to the automatic doors of the hospital, seeming caught between walking and running, feels like someone is pressing down on the bruise of your chest. You wish you’d called him sooner. 

“James,” you call as he comes in, hating how your voice cuts through the taut quiet of the waiting area. It’s worth it for how his whole self softens when his eyes find you. 

He slows to a fast walk the rest of the way to you, the urgency slowly leaving him—which is appropriate, there is no urgency, everything has happened already—like an engine running out of gas. You stand as he nears, and both of you reach for each other before James hesitates. His hands stop midair, his brow tightening for a moment, before they come tentatively to your elbows.

“Hi,” he says, squeezing. “How bad is it?” 

“For me or the car?” you joke. 

“You.” James is feeling too earnest for joking, it seems. “Well, both of you. But you first.” 

You really thought you’d cry when you saw him. Worried you’d make a whole scene, blubbering and inconsolable, but you don’t seem to have any tears left. It makes sense, you suppose; you’ve cried a lot in the past few hours. First the slow, shaky kind right after getting out of your car, and then a real cry when a police officer had pulled you aside to get your version of events. (It had been embarrassing. She’d been nice about it, though.) Now, you wait for the tears to come, but for all your relief at seeing your boyfriend you feel rather dried up. 

It makes you wish, once again, that you’d called James sooner. You’d wanted to, of course, but you’d been nearly certain you’d be even less capable of holding yourself together if he were there, and there wasn’t much reason for him to be anyways. He was at work and you weren’t terribly hurt, so there was really nothing he could have done while you were talking to the police and the tow company and the paramedics and attempting not to drown in an overwhelm of insurance information. The only thing you really wanted him for was to hold your hand.

“I’m okay,” you say, the necessary preface. “A bit bruised up. My chest got the worst of it.” 

Unconsciously, your hand comes to your sternum as if to demonstrate, gravitating towards the center of the ache. James’ hand follows, seemingly just as thoughtless as it covers your own. He can’t see the bruise, but he makes a low, sad sound anyway. 

His care softens your voice. “They said my neck will probably hurt tomorrow, but it doesn’t yet.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” James sounds really, truly heartbroken for you. “And the rest, it hurts a lot?” 

You shrug. What’s a lot? You know you could’ve had worse, much worse; still, you could do without that frightening soreness that comes with each breath. 

“It’s not too bad,” you say. “I could still hug.” 

It’s the question he’s been dying to ask, clearly. James’ arms are around you in a second, ardent but still gentle, palms pressing to the high and low points of your bag. It’s a good hug. You melt a little against him. 

James tucks his face into the side of your neck, like he’s trying to get as much contact with you as he can. “I wish you’d called me when it happened.” 

“You were at work.” 

“I’d have left work.” 

“There wasn’t anything you could do. I was fine, I just had to…” a little sigh escapes you, exhaustion creeping in now that he’s here “...talk to people. Insurance and all that.” 

James makes a soft, half-agreeing sound. His thumb strokes the base of your neck. “Still. I could have held your hand.” 

A new ache rises in the back of your throat, coming to join the rest. You wind your arms tighter around James. 

After a few, silent moments, he kisses your neck chastely and loosens his hold. “Ready to go home? Anything else you need?” 

You shake your head. “I’m signed out,” you say, so eager you feel like you could float out the doors. You hope you can entice James to lie in bed with you when you get home. You think you’ll sleep until tomorrow. “Let’s go, please.” 

“Alright, you don’t have to say please, sweetheart.” James curls an arm around your shoulders, pressing a smile into your cheek. “We can go. You need one of those wheelchairs for me to take you out to the car?” 

“Ha ha,” you say drily. “No.” 

“Just checking. Think maybe I ought to ask for one, just in case?”

“James. I will take your car home without you in it.” 

“Alright, lovie, I’m coming.”

[nakylvr]

MISSED YOU (FINAL)

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary: dealing with the repercussions of your actions, you try your absolute best to fix everything.

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort(?), happy ending (yay!), dealer!dani au, language

wc: 3,5 k

part 1 | part 2

you woke up to knocking on the door. lifting your head from the bed, you immediately felt your head pounding with a headache, making you groan quietly as you got up and left the bedroom. walking to the front door, you peer through the peephole and let out a sigh of relief to see manon.

you unlock and open the door, being met with the taller woman who was holding a convenience store bag in her hand. 

“did you sleep?” manon questions, taking notice of the dark bags under your eyes mixed with the tear stain marks on your cheeks.

“a little.” you shrug, opening the door wider and walking further inside. 

“better than nothing,” manon replies, walking in and shutting the door behind her. she follows you to the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table as you sit on the couch and curl up into a ball in the corner. “here,” she rummages through the bag before pulling out two cans. “i didn't know if you'd want the redbull or the coffee, so.” she holds both of them in front of you. 

“thanks,” you mumble, taking the energy drink from her hand and opening it. 

a silence fills the apartment again, one that lasts a while before you finally manage to speak up. 

“i don't know how to fix this,” you say quietly, making manon look over at you. “i doubt she wants to see me right now, or ever again.” you look down at the drink in your hand, finger spinning around the rim of the can. “i should’ve listened to her, then none of this would've happened.” 

“it's okay,” manon says. “i mean, it's not, obviously, but it’ll be fine. you can't say that she probably doesn't want to see you, because we both know that she always wants to see you. whenever you're not around you are literally the only thing she talks about, and with what you told me about your last conversation, she probably thinks sophia forced you to do it – which she did, so i don't think she's mad at you exactly. if she is, i’d be surprised.” she pauses for a moment. “you have to just do it. get her out, and then you can talk it out. you can figure the rest out as you go.” 

“yeah,” you murmur, still looking at the can in your hands. 

“yn,” manon grabs one of your hands making you finally look at her. “i’ve known dani for years, she isn't going to be mad at you. when i say you are the only person she talks about, i mean literally you are the only person she cares about. i’ve seen her go through girls so fast that when she started talking about you i felt bad. i thought ‘well, there's another poor girl to add to her list’. but she said you were different. so i tried to believe her. now, i’m going to be honest with you here, okay? because i love and care about both of you very much, and i want you two to fix this, okay?” she stops, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “dani has said multiple times to multiple girls that they're different. so when she said it about you my first reaction was how you were going to get hurt. but things started changing, dani started changing. and that has never happened. you know dani is a pretty independent person, and what she does has her that way because of shit that's happened in the past, but to see her changing – changing for the better? i knew she was right about you.”

“not one other girl has even been able to remotely change one thing about dani,” manon continues. “she always kept them at a distance, she never let them get too close. and the day she told me she took you with her to one of the deals? something that she never let anyone do? i knew she seriously loved you. when she said that you insisted on going with her, she told me that she hesitated. but not for the same reason it usually was. she wanted to protect you. she always wants to protect you, yn. but she lets you come with. she trusts you with the money. she trusts you with certain clients. she trusts you. she loves you. no one else. i don't know why she did what she did, but i know she regrets it. you are the best thing that's ever happened to her, and i don't want this to fuck it up for you two. i can't tell you what to do, but i will support whatever decision you make, okay?” 

listening to everything manon said, you slowly nod your head while taking in all of it. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you could feel them threatening to spill, with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep it from trembling. “i ju-st want to fix this,” your voice cracks as you speak. “i love her so much.”

“i know you do,” manon is quick to reply, scooting closer to you and wrapping her arms around your shaking frame. “and i know she loves you just as much. you just have to tell her. you have to talk this out, and you have to tell her about what happened last night.” 

you physically tense up at her last words, the memories of the night before flooding your mind as you put your hands into fists to keep them from shaking so much. “i can't– she’ll really hate me then,” you reply, shaking your head. 

“you have to, yn,” manon tells you. “i know you don't want to, but you have to.” 

a few tears fall from your eyes, but you slowly nod your head, knowing it was the truth. it could make matters worse or it could improve them, but you had no idea how to even go about it. “can you– can you come with me to the sheriff's station? i already have the bail money in a bag, i-i just don't want to go alone right now,” you speak quietly, more tears trailing down your cheeks. 

“of course,” manon replies with a nod. “has sophia tried reaching you?” 

“there was texts and calls for the first couple of hours, but i think she gave up,” you answer with a shrug. “i read a few of them…” your voice goes quiet again.

“bad?” manon questions, judging by the tone in your voice when you said it.

“yeah.” you nod. 

“ignore them,” manon tells you sternly. “you don't need to be seeing her lash out on you because of something terrible she did. you didn't do anything wrong, okay? you don't deserve any of what's happened to you in these months, and it's not your fault for going to the person you thought would keep you safe. but this means you have to fix things with dani. if all else fails, then you can stay with me for some time, okay? you’ll always have a place to stay with me.” she rubs your back reassuringly.

“okay,” you mumble, nodding again. “thank you again, i owe you for this.”

“no you don't.” manon shakes her head. “you're one of my best friends, i’d do anything to make sure you're okay.” she then pulls away from you, grabbing the can from you and setting it on the coffee table. “when does the sheriff's station open?”

“nine, i think,” you answer. 

“we’ll go right when it opens, then,” she says. “get it done as fast as possible so that she doesn't have to stay in there too long. then you can talk things out. i’m sure you'll already be on her good side just by bailing her out after what you said when she was arrested, so you have a good starting point. get her something to eat, get some drinks, and talk it out here in the home you two have made. it’ll all be okay. i promise.” 

“okay.” 

…

one week later you were standing outside the jail, biting your nails with your foot tapping on the ground anxiously. thankfully, you had enough to cover the bail and have a little leftover, which was a relief knowing it didn’t take everything in the safe. you had yet to even speak to daniela, despite manon telling you to at least try and see if she would talk to you. you didn’t want to hear yelling over the phone, you’d rather hear it in person where you could explain everything easier than if you were arguing over the phone line that would cut after five minutes. manon told you over and over again that she wouldn’t be mad at you, but the nervous feeling was still rooted deep inside you as you heard the loud buzzing and the gate slowly opening. 

looking up from the ground, you spot daniela walking with her bag of things. her eyes subtly widen a bit from what you can see, since they didn’t exactly tell her who bailed her out, just that she was able to leave. 

she slowly steps over to you, stopping in front of you and looking at you without saying anything. 

“hey,” you say quietly. “i’m really sor–”

you’re cut off from your apology by daniela kissing you. your eyes go wide for a second, but when her arms wrap around your waist you find yourself melting into the kiss, practically feeling all the emotions she was pouring out into it. 

when she pulls away, you’re both a little breathless, quiet panting coming from you two. 

“do you wanna get something to eat and head home?” you ask softly. “i’d rather talk at home.” 

“yeah, we’ll talk at home,” daniela responds in the same voice.

“okay.” you nod. 

…

by the time you two arrived at the apartment, it was already leading into the evening, the sunset coming down just as you opened the door and walked inside with bags of food and drinks in your hands. 

walking behind you into the apartment, the first thing dani notices is how clean it is. she figured it’d be destroyed when they came to get her, only feeling worse when she realized it had to have been you that cleaned up the place. she follows you silently, setting the food down on the dining room table and going to sit on the couch next to you. 

there’s a silence that fills the room. one that was far from comfortable. both of you sitting there not knowing what to say first, or to say anything at all. until you speak. 

“i’m really sorry,” your voice is barely able to be heard as you fiddle with your hands. “i-i didn’t think– i didn’t mean for it to go down that way, i-”

“don’t apologize,” daniela cuts you off, shaking her head. “there’s no reason for you to be apologizing. i deserved it.” she goes quiet for a moment before continuing. “i’m really, really sorry. i shouldn’t have done what i did, and i know i fucked up. i’m not sure why i did it, but i regret it so much. i don’t know why you bailed me out, i thought the last time was really going to be the last time. but…i’m glad you did. i just want to talk it out.” 

“i know, and that’s why i bailed you out,” you start. “listen, dani. i went to sophia to figure out what to do, and…it wasn’t a smart idea. i know you two already don’t like each other, but this could really make things worse for everyone. i– she convinced me to call the police even though i didn’t want to. i felt so bad once i saw how upset you were. i knew you knew you fucked up and was trying to do anything to make me stay a-and i ignored it. i-i thought it would make things easier but it made everything so m-much worse. everything just t-turned into a shit show a-and i didn’t know what to d-do.” you began stuttering over your words as a few tears fell from your eyes. 

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” daniela is quick to wrap her arms around you and pull your head against her chest. “it’s okay, okay? i’m not mad at you for what you did. i deserved it. so please don’t beat yourself up over what you did, baby. i’m not upset at you.” she presses a gentle kiss on your head. 

“there-there’s something else i h-have to tell you,” you manage to get out, your anxiety growing and your breathing getting heavier. “please don’t get mad when i tell you th-this.” 

“nothing will make me mad, i promise,” dani responds. “what happened?”

clutching onto her shirt, your face is still pressing against her chest as you try to find the words to explain it. “i-i went to sophia’s after. y-you know she’s always had feelings f-for me, so i-i…i fucked up, dani.” you start fully sobbing into her chest at this point, which has her arms tightening around you both from you crying and what she was thinking you were going to say next. “i-i let her have her w-way with m-me b-b-but i hated it. it was t-terrible. sh-she didn’t care that i w-was uncomfortable, she di-didn’t stop even when i w-was crying. all i c-could think about was how y-you would never do that. i-it didn’t feel the same. sh-she didn’t care, she continued a-and i felt so bad after th-that i left immediately. i’m so sorry.” 

once you finished your words through sobs, daniela pulled you closer to her onto her lap, her arms tight around you as you cried. there were hundreds of thoughts running through her head, but they were far from being mad at you. she wasn’t mad at you. she was livid at sophia. “it’s okay,” she tells you over and over. “i’m not mad at you, i swear. i’m not mad.” hearing your cries continue made daniela wonder just how much sophia put you through when she wasn’t around, and thinking it made her jaw clench, anger bubbling inside of her. “baby, look at me,” she says softly. 

you slowly lift your head to look down at her, your eyes red and puffy with a few sniffles coming from you now and then. 

“i’m not upset, okay?” she says, running her hand through your hair. “i understand, i do. which is why i’m not angry at you. i’m angry at sophia, okay? she should’ve known better than to try and do that, let alone continue when you were crying. you haven’t seen her since, have you?”

you immediately shake your head quickly. “no, no, i haven’t. she tried texting and calling but i just ignored them.” 

“good.” daniela nods. “that means it’ll be a fun surprise for her when i show up at her front door.” 

the way she says that has your eyebrows furrowed together. “what do you mean?”

“don’t worry about it, mi amor,” she says, pecking your lips. “let’s just say she won’t be a problem anymore.” 

“as long as you don’t get arrested again, you can do what you want,” you tell her, hooking your arms around her neck. 

“i won’t, i promise.” she smiles at you. “are we okay?” she asks after a moment. 

it takes a minute for you to respond, but you nod your head in the end. “yeah, we’re okay.” 

“i love you,” daniela says, looking you in the eye. 

“i love you too,” you reply, leaning in and kissing her. 

…

it was late into the night when daniela got up. but not for the same reason it had been the past few months. was she going to see someone? technically. was it sophia? yes. was she going to beat the living shit out of her? probably. 

the latina carefully got out of the bed, unwrapping your arms around her and looking at the time on the digital clock. late enough. you shift around feeling her presence leave the bed, and you open your eyes to see her putting on a hoodie and her shoes. 

“where are you going?” you mumble tiredly. 

dani turns when she hears your voice, leaning down and pushing some of your hair out of your face. “i’m heading to sophia’s with manon and minji. don’t worry, i’ll text you once i’m there and when i’m on my way back.” she presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “i’ll bring you back something to eat if you’re awake when i’m leaving.” 

you nod your head, murmuring out a quiet “okay”. this is what you missed. if you were too tired to go out to deals with her, she would always say this. that she’d text you when she was there, and that she would text you when she was leaving that everything was okay, even then she would send more messages than necessary. but, you didn’t mind it. she knew you often got worried when it came to certain clients, and she always reassured you when she would go alone. it hadn’t been like this in months. for the past few months you’ve woken up to her already gone, not bothering to tell you where she was going. for the first time through this hell that’s been these last few months, it was starting to feel normal again. 

“be safe, please,” you say quietly. 

“always,” she replies, kissing your head again. 

walking out of the apartment, manon and minji were already waiting outside in front of minji’s car. the two turn when they hear footsteps coming towards them to see daniela walking towards them. 

“is it bad to say i’m surprised you showed?” daniela says, stopping in front of the car. 

“not really,” manon shakes her head. 

“thanks, anyways then,” daniela looks between the two. “are you both sure you want to do this?” 

“obviously,” manon says. 

“i’ve never liked her anyways,” minji adds, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“alright,” daniela nods. “let’s go then.” 

…

it was three in the morning when you heard the front door open. you were partially awake after daniela told you where she was going, glancing at your phone occasionally when it would light up. it had been thirty minutes since dani told you she was on her way back. just when you were getting worried you heard the creaking of the front door opening, and the jingling of keys. you sit up on the bed a little bit when daniela walks into the bedroom with a bag of food and drinks in her hands. 

“hey.” she smiles at you. “i got you some food and a milkshake from sonic. i’m sure you’re tired of it by now but it’s like, the only place open at this hour.”

“i don’t mind.” you shake your head. “thank you.” 

“it’s no problem,” she says, sitting down next to you on the bed. “here.” she hands you one of the drinks and takes the food out. 

sitting in silence while eating, you had a warm feeling radiating through your body. the type you hadn’t felt in months while everything was going on. the silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t tense. it was comfortable. it was normal, like it used to be. 

“i really missed this,” you say randomly in a quiet voice. “i missed you.” 

daniela looks over at you when you speak, seeing the small smile on your face that subconsciously makes a smile grow on her own face. “i missed this– i missed you, too,” she replies in the same voice. 

when you look over at her, you can barely make out her face with the lamp on your nightstand, but staring into her eyes, you know she’s genuine about it. “promise me we won’t do this again,” you tell her. 

“i promise,” she replies in a heartbeat. “you know why?” 

“why?” you encourage her, curious as to what she’ll say. 

“because i’m gonna marry you one day.” 

your breath hitches in your throat at her words. in the two years you’ve been together, she’s never mentioned anything of the sorts revolving marriage or that kind of commitment. and after what manon told you, you weren’t sure she would ever even consider the thought. to say you were surprised would be an understatement. 

“really?” your voice comes out in a whisper, as if you were doubting her words. 

“really.” daniela nods. “i don’t want to be with anyone except you. i don’t want you to be with anyone except me. i know i fucked up right now, but i swear in the future i’ll give you the newlywed life you want. i swear.” 

tears build in your eyes without your knowledge, so focused on her words that you didn’t even notice a few falling until dani’s hand reaches towards you and wipes them away with her thumb, her hand cupping your face. “you can’t go back on me now, y’know,” you say in a hushed voice. “you better stay.” 

“i will,” she responds. “i will, i promise. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you.” 

“then you’ll show me?” you say, your voice changing into a tone daniela was far too familiar with.

“oh, i’ll show you.” she leans in and kisses you. 

[steveseddie]

‘cause it’s you and me

rating: g | cw: none | wc: 1,9 k | tags: eddie lives, hospitals and injury recovery, steve has a crush, he also knows how to play guitar, fluff

written for @steddielovemonth day one | You and Me by Lifehouse & the quote “every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”

read on ao3

Steve doesn’t know how much time he’s spent on the chair that is next to Eddie’s hospital bed.

Too long probably, if the recurrent pain on his back means anything. But not even that is enough to prevent Steve from staying glued to that chair, neither are the doctor’s mean looks or Robin’s insistence about him getting proper sleep or meals for that matter. Steve only leaves the chair when he has a shift or when he wants Wayne to have time alone with his nephew or when the nurses wheel Eddie away for surgery or tests or physical therapy. That’s it.

It makes the months that Eddie spends recovering blur together. Sometimes, Steve even forgets what day it is, only managing to keep track of it by the nurse’s schedule or depending on who shows up to visit Eddie. The kids and Wayne and Robin all come on different days, effectively balancing keeping their friend company with their everyday lives.

All of them except Steve.

Ever since Spring Break, it’s been Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Find Eddie. Get Eddie’s heart beating again. Drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. Pray that Eddie makes it out of surgery. Wait for Eddie to wake up. Comfort Eddie when he’s in pain. Take Eddie’s mind off of the murder charges that haven’t been dropped yet or the loss of their trailer or the long hours of physical therapy ahead of him. Listen to Eddie ramble on the days that he feels better about books and music and Dungeons and Dragons. Watch Eddie sleep and only then try to get a little sleep himself.

The last one might sound a little creepy but Steve thinks it’s justified considering he still can’t forget how Eddie looked when they found him– pale, bloody, dead. Watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly but steadily is the only thing that calms Steve enough for him to doze off in that damn uncomfortable chair.

Only at some point it stops being entirely about making sure that Eddie is alive– the staring. Suddenly, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie at all times.

Steve stares at his face while Eddie reads a book to him out loud and forgets to pay attention to what he’s saying. He stares at Eddie’s hands while he explains something to the kids and completely miss a question from Henderson. He stares at his mouth while Eddie slurps the extra jello cup that Robin sneaked in past the nurses and blush when she catches him and smirks knowingly at him.

It takes Steve some time to figure out why he looks at Eddie so much, obvious as it is, and when he finally does he actually leaves his chair and heads to the bathroom for a proper floor freak out.

He just doesn’t know what to do with these feelings for Eddie or where to go from there so he just– doesn’t do anything.

And things stay the same.

Except for the way Eddie keeps getting better.

The doctors are so optimistic that they announce that Eddie might get to go home soon. They have him doing laps around the hospital and start slowly tapering off his pain meds and encouraging him to pick back up things he used to do like writing and playing guitar to work on his dexterity, they said.

It’s why Eddie starts writing down plans and ideas for future dork campaigns again and why Wayne brings his sweetheart to the hospital.

(Eddie almost cried when he saw it, making grabby hands and hugging it against his chest with a happy sigh.

“I swear you’re happier to see that thing more than you’ve ever been to see me,” Steve muttered through pursed lips.

“Steve, don’t call her a thing! She can hear you!” Eddie protested, appalled. Which wasn’t a no but at least later he tells Steve that there’s enough room in his heart for two sweethearts.)

It’s not like Eddie goes back to being a rock god on the guitar right away and his writing is intelligible more often than not, but none of that stops him. He keeps trying, keeps practicing, and Steve loves him more and more for it.

Yes. Love. The first time the word pops up in Steve’s head it leads to yet another bathroom floor freak out but once he realizes it, he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting it out several times a day.

He’s doing it right now while watching Eddie excitedly write down a D&D character sheet for him with his tongue poking out adorably between his lips, tempting Steve to lean in and kiss them. So when a nurse interrupts them to take Eddie away for some test, he appreciates the short break.

When he’s alone, Steve reaches for the notebook that Eddie left on the bed. It’s off limits for any of the kids, but Eddie has let Steve peek at it before. He doesn’t think he’ll mind.

He reads his character sheet, recognizing some of the nerdy words while others fly completely over his head. Then he leafs lazily through pages of notes and doodles until he pauses at what looks like an unfinished song, fragments of lyrics and melodies written messily over the page.

Steve sends a sidelong glance to Eddie’s guitar where it’s leaning against the wall.

He’s never told anyone but he took some guitar lessons back when he started high school, hoping that playing an instrument would help get him girls. He knows how to read music and can fumble his way through a few simple songs, but he never made it past that. It seemed useless when he already had Nancy, and then when he didn’t have her anymore, he had the kids and the Upside Down and playing guitar didn’t seem like a useful skill to have when fighting monsters.

He chuckles. “Guess I was wrong,” he mutters to himself, thinking about Eddie saving the world with a Metallica song of all things.

Without giving it much thought, Steve stands up and carefully grabs the guitar, bringing it back with him to the chair and resting it on his leg, Eddie’s notebook open on the bed in front of him.

He clumsily places his fingers on the fretboard and tries to play the melody that Eddie wrote down. He messes up a few notes, but for someone who hasn’t touched a guitar in years he thinks he plays it decently enough. Eddie would surely do a better job, but it still doesn’t sound half bad. Maybe he can ask Eddie for help to improve and–

“What are you doing?” Eddie’s voice breaks through the melody. His fingers slip and the guitar makes a loud, screechy sound that makes Steve wince.

He whirls around and finds Eddie staring at him from the door, his face unreadable.

Steve gulps, his cheeks pinking up at being caught. “Playing guitar?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together. “Since when do you know how?”

“I– uh, I took lessons years ago but I stopped,” he says, tripping on his words. “I– I found your– your song and I was trying to play it–”

Eddie’s eyes dart to the notebook on the bed. Steve winces again, worrying that Eddie will get mad because he went through his things or because he touched his sweetheart.

“That sounds nothing like what I wrote.”

Or because he butchered his song.

Steve blushes brighter, reaching for the notebook and fumbling to close it. “Sorry, I– it’s been a while and I was never that good to begin with.”

With three long strides –and a lot less limping than a month ago, Steve proudly notices– Eddie reaches his side and snatches the notebook from Steve’s hands.

“Give me that!” He says, flopping down on the bed and flicking furiously through the pages, his face pinched.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry, I– I didn’t think you’d be mad–”

“You bet I’m mad!” Eddie says with a huff, patting the bed sheets, trying to find something.

Steve shrinks down on the chair. “I– I think I’m gonna go–” he says, pushing himself to his feet. Better to leave now before Eddie finds whatever he’s looking for and throws it at his head.

“Aha!” Eddie gasps, holding up his pen. Then he notices Steve standing awkwardly and frowns at him. “Wait, what? No, stay. Play it again.”

Steve blinks down at him. “What?”

“The song!” Eddie urges him but his voice is soft, gentle. “Play it again, Stevie, please.”

Stevie. Please. He’s not mad.

“What?”

Eddie heaves out a sigh, but it comes across as fond. “Dude, I’ve been trying to figure out the right melody for that song for like, half a year!” He says, shaking his notebook aggressively. A few pages fall off, but he pays them no mind. “But I just couldn’t get it fucking right, there was always something missing! And it was whatever you were doing when I walked in!”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Not at you, Stevie, no,” Eddie chuckles. “Just mad that it was you who figured it out with your secret magic guitar skills and not me.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and he can’t help but let out a chuckle himself. “So you want me to do it again?”

Eddie nods enthusiastically and that’s enough to make Steve flop back down on the chair, propping the guitar on his legs and doing his best to play the song like he did before.

He must get it right because Eddie lets out an adorable squeal before using his pen to cross out something and write down whatever Steve accidentally came up with.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to dedicate this song to you now as a thank you,” Eddie says, grinning so wide at his notebook that it shows off his dimples.

Steve hangs a hand from his neck. It feels hot to the touch, probably from the pet name. “Too bad it’s a love song,” he jokes weakly, even if he wants nothing more than for Eddie’s words to be about him.

Eddie glances up, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “I know,” he says softly, his eyes flickering nervously over Steve’s face.

Oh. Oh.

Stomach fluttering with butterflies, Steve stands up, grabbing the guitar by its neck to prop it up against the wall.

“Uh, you– are you leaving?” Eddie asks, chewing anxiously on his pen as he watches Steve move around silently. Little does he know that his heart is currently screaming at him to gently tackle Eddie into the bed.

But first–

“Just making sure your guitar is safe before I go over there and kiss you, Eds,” he says, the corners of his mouth ticking up when Eddie squeaks again, his eyes widening.

“Oh, o–okay. That’s smart. Yup,” he stammers out, his voice an octave higher, his cheeks pinking up. “Does that mean you also–”

“Feel that way about you?” Steve asks, sitting on the bed next to Eddie, who nods expectantly. Steve reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, Eddie, I do.”

When Steve leans in and finally, finally kisses him, Eddie lets his notebook fall to the floor so he can grab Steve’s shoulders. The urgency to write down that perfect melody now replaced by an urgency for Steve.

But it doesn’t matter, Steve thinks that melody is now seared into both of their memories forever, as is their first kiss. The first of many.

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

He probably hates me x I love her so much

(part 3)

(teen nanami x teen reader fluff!)

Part 3 - the mission mishap

Previous part - the bakery incident

Last part -The confession that wasn't supposed to happen!

Nanami Kento liked order. He liked logic. He liked things that made sense.

You, unfortunately, made no sense at all.

Which was exactly why he was currently pacing outside the infirmary, jaw clenched, fists tight at his sides.

He told you not to rush in. He told you to wait. He told you to stick to the plan. But did you listen? No. Instead, you threw yourself into danger like you had something to prove, and now you were lying inside with a freshly bandaged wound while Shoko sighed over your recklessness.

And worst of all? You probably thought he was mad at you.

Which okay, fine. Maybe he was. But not in the way you assumed.

He wasn’t mad because you were reckless. He wasn’t mad because you messed up. He was mad because for one agonizing moment, he thought he was going to lose you.

And that? That was unacceptable.

The door creaked open, and you stepped out, rubbing your arm sheepishly. "Hey."

Nanami whirled around so fast you swore you saw his tie swing.

",you are an idiot."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"A reckless, thoughtless idiot," he continued, voice low but sharp. "Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if I hadn’t-" He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Never mind. It doesn’t matter."

Your stomach twisted. You had been expecting some kind of lecture, but this? This was different.

"Nanami, I—"

"Just don’t do it again." His voice was quieter now, almost strained. "Please."

That made you pause.

You looked at him carefully the way his shoulders were tense, the way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his brows were furrowed not in anger, but in something closer to… worry?

And suddenly, a thought crept in.

Maybe… maybe he didn’t hate you.

Maybe he cared

Two Hours Earlier

"Okay, seriously, what is with you?"

You wiped a cut on your cheek, frowning at Haibara as he walked beside you through the forest. The mission was done, the curse exorcised, and you were mostly fine. So why was Haibara grinning like he had just found out your most embarrassing secret?

"What?" you huffed.

Haibara snickered. "You really don’t get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

He whistled. "Man, you’re so lucky Nanami isn’t here right now. He’d be dying of secondhand embarrassment."

You crossed your arms, glaring. "Haibara, I swear—"

"He totally freaked out when you got hurt," Haibara said, cutting you off. "Like, full-on Nanami meltdown. It was kind of impressive, honestly."

You faltered. "What?"

"He carried you straight to Shoko the second you were down. Didn't even let the curse fully disappear first." Haibara leaned in conspiratorially. "And when Yaga asked what happened, he said ‘It was my fault. I should’ve protected her better.’ Like, dude that’s some next-level guilt for a guy who claims he doesn’t care."

Your breath hitched.

You remembered bits and pieces the rush of adrenaline, the sharp pain in your side, the feeling of someone��s arms around you before everything faded to black. But you had assumed it was just instinct. That Nanami would have done the same for anyone.

Right?

Right?

Haibara must have seen the confusion on your face because he rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You really think he’d react like that if you were just another classmate?"

You opened your mouth to argue but no words came out.

Because, deep down, you already knew the answer.

Present

Nanami was still standing there, staring at the ground like he was this close to losing his mind.

You took a slow step forward. Then another.

"Nanami," you said carefully.

He stiffened. "What?"

You swallowed. "Why do you care so much?"

His head snapped up, eyes widening just slightly. He opened his mouth, hesitated then clenched his jaw. "Because you were reckless."

"That’s not an answer."

Nanami’s fingers twitched. His lips parted like he was about to say something something important. Something real.

But instead, he just shook his head. "Just be more careful next time," he muttered, turning away. "Please."

And then he walked off, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding in your ears.

You should have felt relieved. Happy, even. But instead, there was a different feeling creeping in.

Because Nanami Kento was lying.

And you were going to figure out why.

@cheriiepies @erenspersonalwh0re

[mrspiastri]

filmy dialogues 🎞️

pairing: oscar piastri x desi! reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.5k words

an: ty anon for this request! i loved writing it!! <4

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

"And which one is this again?" Oscar asked as he settled in to watch the movie Y/N had picked out.

"It's a Bollywood movie! You're gonna love it—it was my favorite growing up."

"Is it one of those romance ones?"

Oscar was a bit of a bore when it came to movies. His favorite genre was sci-fi, while Y/N's was rom-coms. Naturally, choosing a movie to watch was always a challenge.

"Well… yes and no. It's like a heist movie, but it has a bit of everything in it, really."

"I don't trust your judgment since you made us watch that movie with those nepo babies."

"That was a mistake on my part, I agree. But this one is so good, I promise."

Movie nights were a staple of the couple’s routine, especially since Oscar was usually busy on weekends. Each week, they took turns picking a movie and rated it based on what they liked most about it. Last week, Oscar had made Y/N watch one of the Star Wars movies. While she wasn’t completely floored, she did agree that Hayden Christensen was a cutie.

"I've got the perfect one. It's called ‘Happy New Year’, and it’s iconic.”

"Very well, bring it on."

🎞️🎞️🎞️

The movie started. They skipped through the opening credits and got to the scene where Charlie's father gets framed.

"How did they just put him in jail? Wouldn't there be a formal investigation? Plus, he remembers being drugged. This is quite unrealistic," Oscar said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N let out a sigh, already used to her boyfriend's antics.

"I'm sure they had one, but he was up against a really powerful guy, you know?"

Oscar nodded, not entirely convinced but not completely dismissing the explanation either. They continued watching, Y/N snuggling further into the couch and against her boyfriend's shoulder. It was an unspoken ritual of sorts—she would gently bump her head against his shoulder repeatedly until he laughed and wrapped his arms around her.

"How did he just hack the voting polls? This is part of a global competition. They have to have better firewalls. Also, Team Diamond was terrible—they got booed off stage! How is everyone just accepting that they won?"

Oscar was a yapper, especially during movies.

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her (his) Sprite. "I mean, they have a hacker on their team. It’s possible."

"Yeah, he's like 19, doing all his hacking from a laptop. A regular DELL laptop. Not even a good computer with a proper processor," Oscar grumbled, stuffing some popcorn into his mouth.

She giggled. "Well, maybe he's just that good. Besides, you don’t even know how to hack."

"That’s beside the point, and you know it."

Eventually, they reached the movie’s climax, with things heating up for the team. Y/N sat staring at the screen like she didn’t already know exactly what was going to happen next—despite having watched the movie six times before.

"Wait, so they just enter the vault with him? How does that work?" Oscar continued, pointing out the movie’s logical flaws.

"I mean, they’re lookalikes, so yeah."

"But that fingerprint probably wouldn’t work. It’s been tampered with, so it should come across as invalid."

"Why are they exiting through the sewers? They could just leave normally. This makes no sense."

"Why are they returning?! Now they’ll get arrested!"

If there was one thing Oscar would do, it was interrupt a romantic date with dumb questions.

"Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on the movie’s accuracy, you know?" Y/N teased. "Think instead about how good Deepika looks in that saree." She winked at him.

"You’d look better anyway, and this movie’s too stupid for me not to point out everything wrong with it."

"But that's the fun, right? You don’t need to think too much while watching. Just laugh at the funny stuff and roll your eyes at the dumb moments. It’s still enjoyable. Also, I never look that good in a saree. That’s why I don’t wear them anymore," she said.

"I think you need to stop choosing the movies from next time. And yes, you do look good! I've seen the photos where you wore that blue one!"

Oscar turned Y/N’s body, which had been leaning against his chest, so that she was facing him.

"That was taken when I was in the twelfth grade! I wore it for my graduation, and it looked dumb then too."

"Well, I think you looked beautiful, and you should wear one to that Diwali party we’re going to."

She looked away, cheeks pink.

"I don’t know… it’s such a hassle to drape one. I can’t even do it without my mom’s help."

"I’m right here, aren’t I? I’ll help." He cheerfully tugged her closer to his chest, resting his head on top of hers. She could hear—almost feel—his heartbeat quicken. It was a subtle reminder that even after all this time, Oscar still got butterflies around Y/N.

"It’s super tricky, especially with the pleats. You sure you can help?" she asked, doing her best to speak from where she was trapped under him.

"I’ll try my best, darling. You’ll look better than Deepika too." He chuckled, making Y/N laugh as well, feeling the vibrations of his laughter through where her head was resting.

"Now, forget about that. I wanna watch them dance and win at the finale!" She wriggled out of his hold, reaching for the remote to unpause the movie.

"Hey, no spoilers!"

"You knew that was going to happen!"

🎞️🎞️🎞️

The movie played on, the sounds of Bollywood music filling the room as the final dance number unfolded. Y/N, grinning, hummed along while Oscar groaned dramatically.

“I swear, if they win despite all the cheating—”

“They will win,” she cut in smugly.

Oscar rolled his eyes but didn’t complain further. His arm tightened around her, absentmindedly playing with her fingers. Y/N glanced up at him, finding that—despite all his so-called complaints—he was watching the screen with a slight smile.

"You're secretly enjoying it, aren’t you?" she accused playfully.

"I am not," he denied immediately, though the way his foot tapped to the music betrayed him.

Y/N smirked, scooting closer. "It’s okay, you can admit it."

Oscar sighed dramatically. "Fine. It’s slightly entertaining."

"Aha! I knew it!"

She leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Maybe next time, you’ll actually pick a Bollywood movie yourself."

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Oscar muttered, though his cheeks were pink now too.

They spent the rest of the movie in comfortable silence, save for Y/N’s occasional giggles and Oscar’s inevitable complaints. But when the credits rolled and Y/N stretched, ready to turn the TV off, she felt a pair of arms tighten around her waist.

"Five more minutes, let’s watch the final song,” Oscar mumbled into her hair.

Y/N smiled. "You like cuddling more than watching the movie, don’t you?"

"Maybe."

"That, I’ll allow," she whispered, settling against him once more.

As the grand finale song played, Oscar let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples.

"I don’t know how I just sat through two and a half hours of absolute madness,” he grumbled. "They danced their way into a vault, Y/N. A vault!"

Y/N, completely unbothered, swayed along to the music. "And they looked fabulous while doing it."

Oscar turned to her, suddenly dramatic. "You know what? Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe I need to embrace the bollywoodness of it all."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?"

He dramatically placed a hand on his heart, took a deep breath, and, with all the seriousness he could muster, attempted a line he had definitely not practiced enough.

“Pyaar… dosti hai, Y/N. Aur agar woh… sabse… accha dost nahi ban… sak—wait, what’s the word?"

Y/N blinked. "Ban sakta?"

"Yeah, that. Ban sakta… toh main usko… kabhi love nahi kar sakta!”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Y/N burst out laughing. "That was the most accented Bollywood line I’ve ever heard!”

Oscar groaned. "Oi, cut me some slack! Hindi is hard!"

"It is," Y/N giggled, still shaking her head. "But you get points for effort."

Oscar leaned back into the couch, shaking his head. "I swear, your movies make it sound so easy. Everyone's just casually breaking into song, dropping poetic love lines, hacking government servers with a budget laptop—"

"That’s the magic of it."

He turned to look at her, her face still lit up from laughing, her eyes sparkling as she hummed along to the credits song.

Oscar sighed, shaking his head. "You know what? Maybe I should start watching more of these. Get my Hindi right. Who knows, I might actually end up enjoying one of them."

Y/N gasped. "Wait—are you saying you’ll finally watch ‘Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham’ with me?"

Oscar groaned. "I walked right into that, didn’t I?"

"Absolutely."

He sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled her closer. "Fine. But I’m allowed to complain."

"You always do."

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Fair."

And as the music played on, he had to admit—maybe Bollywood wasn't all bad, especially if he had her next to him singing along to all the songs.

my first request!! i was so geeked about this lol. also im sorry if you haven’t watched happy new year but it is unfortunately one of my favourites so go watch it rn its so stupidly good haha <4

[depressnt]

If I ever wrote a Wicked dnd au (tw massive rant!)

There'd be 8 grimmeries that encompass the 8 schools of magic, written by the wise ones and enchanted with sentience, they all choose one powerful magic user who encompasses their school to be able to read it, but people only know of the Transmutative Grimmerie- the bronze one- because there's a spell that keeps it in the emerald palace and the wizard tries to brute force it to work for him, and none of the others have come out of hiding and are instead waiting for a magic user to discover them

I say magic users because they won't always necessarily pick a wizard just because Wizards are those most likely to use spellbooks. The grimmeries choose someone who will use their spells to the betterment of Oz, and sometimes they won't even pick someone who specializes in the school of magic they represent

Also, Galinda is a wizard. People pretend she's a bard, but she is 100% a wizard. I'm sorry but I don't see her being selfless or dedicated enough to be able to practice as a support class, and while that one wicked dnd au where she's a cleric is wonderful, I'm a wizard Galinda truther. She WANTS to study magic, she's BEEN studying magic her wholeeee life, she wishes it were innate but it isn't so she's gonna grab magic BY THE BALLS and bend it to her will. Whether she specializes in enchantments (charms) or illusion is something I'm still debating, probably enchantment, but I hc Conjuration comes easily to her because she knows how to make something out of nothing (through lying), and doesn't want to lie but she kind of has to do it all the time and it sucks, she wants her lies to not be fake anymore, she's an honest gall! Just sometimes honesty gets you killed real damn dead. I think the Evocation grimmerie might like her, she's selfish enough to call on the aggressive nature of its spells for her own gain, and it just so happens that "her own gain" is "making Oz the kind of place Elphaba can live safely again" (I read a two chapter 34k word gelphie hurt/comfort reunion fic, and her characterization just KILLED me, I'm never gonna stop thinking of her, I love her)

(Found the link!)

Elphaba wants to be a wizard soooo bad, but she's a wild magic sorceress <33 Unsleeping City homebrew style, where her wild magic surges build up over time like Pete's, she can't STAND it and she nearly hurt so many people whenever she surged, the transmutation grimmerie picks her both as a way to get out of the palace, and because she wants to enact Good and Solid change in Oz, and it likes that

Fiyero is a swashbuckler rogue who switches his sword out for a gun in act 2, and maybe switches subclasses to mastermind to try and help Elphaba as best he can (reference to mastermind's ability to use Help action from 30 feet away, alsp it was HIS idea to fake her death) (a revived or phantom rogue would also make perfect plot sense, but I don't see it for his character)

Nessa is a commoner until she gets the ruby slippers, which is when she realizes she needs to step up her game if she's to stay with the Charmed Circle, so she becomes a ranger, maybe a monster slayer- seeking out Elphaba to kill her with a gun (hc her father taught her to shoot when guns became a thing, because it was novel and interesting and she liked the power it gave her despite the chair) before having a change of heart

Boq is either a Barbarian or a fighter in my mind, maybe a champion fighter tbh? He'd have been Nessa's (unwilling) right hand during the dictatorship, and I'd believe she'd force him to essentially head whatever military she might have amassed, I think she'd gladly try and seceed from Oz. And also the Tin Woodman was wild with an axe in the books! (Allegedly) (still gotta read those), I think he'd find some release in physical prowess, maybe holding out hope he'd be able to fight his way out, since he was clearly too smitten to smart his way out of... pretty much any situation in his life

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch5.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "Goodbye" from the Arcane S1 soundtrack.

I know a few of you thought it would take longer for our girls to reunite, and I did originally plan for Caitlyn to take some people out before finding out. But I just couldn't wait. They've been separated for three chapters and they're STILL separated even now.

Completely irrelevant, but Nasir's name was originally Dieter, but I decided I had too many obviously white characters. Petra and Nasir go way back. That's why Nasir gives Caitlyn another chance to back out; he knows Petra sent her, and he knows Petra well enough to know that she did so reluctantly.

Caitlyn is so fucking bad at revenge. She just immediately gives it up for Vi every time and I absolutely love her for it.

Caitlyn shows up mere minutes after the ambush. Very lucky for her. (Convenient coincidences? In my fanfiction? It's more likely than you think.)

Yeah, the guy with the knives totally deserved to die. With the way his crew reacted, this is far from the first time he's brutalized a body.

The man repeatedly stabbing the woman's body was actually inspired by the Purge house at Halloween Horror Nights. There was a room where some guy was straddling a mannequin of the homecoming queen and stabbing her nonstop. I was actually part of a group that got to skip the lines so we could go through all ten houses. I made it through the Purge and the first half of Insidious before I closed my eyes and then I didn't do any of the others. And I slept with the lights on for the next three days.

I probably overuse the bit where Caitlyn breathes before firing her rifle, but snipers do have to control their breathing and I like how it makes the reader slow down. Kinda like slow motion, but in writing.

I never understand why rifles are so shiny. In movies, they always see the glint of the rifle. So Caitlyn's doesn't do that. :)

God, the part where Caitlyn sees Vi for the first time? It makes MY chest tight and I wrote it!

Only one of you mentioned it in the comments, but "Ghost" becomes "Caitlyn" as soon as she realizes that Vi is alive. Vi is not going to remember her name for a while.

"Why didn't she come and find Caitlyn?" - That's the main reason she holds back. Because she knows that, if Vi was able, she would've come looking. So what kept her from doing that?

The idea of Caitlyn forgetting her mother's voice is just heartbreaking to me, and it comes up again much later.

Vi's memory of the spiked weapon is from the ambush in Caitlyn's bedroom back in Chapter 1.

I'm sorry, but just imagine being in Caitlyn's position, finally seeing the love of your life after five years of thinking they were dead, and then having to climb down the side of a building before you can interact with them.

Sorry, but Vi's memory is gonna take a while! It couldn't just come back as soon as she saw Caitlyn! We need more angst!

Vi can't even understand her own name. :(

Remember, this is loosely based on the Feeblemind spell. Vi knows that she trusts Caitlyn, even if she doesn't know why. But she still flinches back from her because... well, it's been five years since anyone touched her with anything other than apathy, distain, or cruelty.

Caitlyn doesn't know what they've done to Vi. She doesn't realize how hard Vi is fighting to disobey. Which will affect how she moves forward, especially with the information she receives in the next chapter.

Basically, the interaction between Caitlyn and Vi's handler is her telling him that she's the assassin known as Ghost and demanding to meet his boss. She surrenders because she's outnumbered and doesn't know what's wrong with Vi. She's trying to get more information and bide her time until they have a better chance to escape.

Yeah, as soon as Caitlyn hears them call Vi "Number 6," she's fucking PISSED. Might have snapped there if she wasn't already disarmed and cuffed.

Teaser for next week:

"I've wanted to meet you for a very long time, Ms. Kiramman," the Baroness says. Her voice is soft, but there is still something powerful in it. "And now, here you are. Perhaps fate brought us together. I am so glad you've come."

Caitlyn interrupts, her own voice like granite. "I'm here for Vi."

The Baroness sighs, smile softening into something sympathetic and regretful. Caitlyn's stomach twists as the woman says, "Yes. Yes, I know you are. Unfortunately, what you're searching for doesn't exist."

[gravitywonagain]

Mountain Immortal

(a Fresh Powder in the Pine Trees story)

.

Wei Ying is in the zone. 

It’s after lessons have closed on a Tuesday and he’s sitting at a table in the main lodge, editing his and Nie Huaisang’s latest video footage while waiting for Wen Qing to close up the clinic for the day. “Tangerine” is blasting in his headphones and his beat up laptop hasn’t overheated yet. The clips he’s working on are the fails, the attempts, the outtakes. They’re probably his favorites to go through because the pain has passed, but the lesson lives on, and, most of the time, they’re just really funny. Watching Jiang Cheng eat shit off a rail, while knowing that he’s fine, will never get old. 

So he’s totally in the zone. Which is probably why he doesn’t notice Lan Zhan over his shoulder until he feels a hand shaking him gently.

There’s something like panic in Lan Zhan’s voice when Wei Ying removes his headphones.

“When was this?” he asks.

“Ah? Lan Zhan…?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Am I — Lan Zhan, what’s wrong?”

Lan Zhan points to the screen where the Wei Ying of a little over a week ago just landed hard on his ass after a failed rail slide. 

“Ah, no, it’s fine. Wen Qing said all the bleeding was internal. That’s where the blood is supposed to be!”

Alarm lights in Lan Zhan's eyes, his eyebrows twitch toward his hairline.

“It’s a reference!" Wei Ying says, backpedaling hard and fast. "A bad reference. And a joke! Importantly, it’s a joke. I’m fine. I promise. No bleeding, internally or externally. Just a giant bruise on my ass. And on my pride."

Lan Zhan's expression settles out again, and Wei Ying takes a breath. He scoots his laptop over as Lan Zhan takes a seat, pressing play on the clip so that Lan Zhan can see the Wei Ying on the screen roll on the ground for a minute before hopping back up to his feet and trying the rail slide again.

"Nie Huaisang edits all of the good stuff," Wei Ying says. "I get to play with all the stuff he cuts out."

Lan Zhan hums as he watches Wei Ying fall off the rail a second time, though much less spectacularly than the first. "I didn't know you filmed snowboarding movies."

"Movies?" Wei Ying laughs. "You make me sound like Uncle Xiao. No, no. Just stupid little shit like this. Clips and compilations for YouTube. Huaisang just didn't want to go to film school."

“Uncle Xiao?” Of course he would pick up on that. Wei Ying can see him putting it together. He’s so smart. He can’t not. “Xiao Xingchen?”

Wei Ying really does try not to flaunt his connection to living legend Xiao Xingchen, backcountry snowboarder and filmmaker of many a ski resort employees' dreams. But Lan Zhan is Lan Zhan. His family does own this entire mountain. He won't likely be prone to the same starstruck jealousy as many of Uncle Song's rental techs.

“Uh, yeah. He was a close friend of my mom’s.”

Lan Zhan nods.

“He, uh. He used to film me when I was just learning. And then when I was getting better. He didn’t,” Wei Ying has to clear his throat against the memories before he continues, “he didn’t get into making movies for the money. He’s just always liked filming. Uncle Song fucking hates it. I still don’t know how Uncle Xiao convinced him to be in Distant Snow and Cold Frost.”

“Mr. Song does not seem the type to enjoy being filmed.”

“‘Mr. Song.’ So formal, Lan Zhan!”

“He is my coworker. And a department head.” 

“Sure, but he’s also a fucking knuckle-dragger. Just call him Song Lan. For me.”

Lan Zhan hesitates, and Wei Ying can see the impropriety of it eating away at him. But, after a moment, he acquiesces with a quiet, “Mn.”

“Have you seen any of Xiao Xingchen’s films?”

“I have. We screened Mountain Immortal here after it won an award at Banff.”

“Ah! I can’t watch that one without crying, like a lot.”

“It was a beautiful tribute.”

It was a beautiful tribute. Cangse Sanren, as she’s known in the world of winter sports, and Wei Changze had died in an avalanche in Colorado while Xiao Xingchen had been filming in Alaska. When he heard about it, Uncle Xiao had taken his movie about the history of splitboarding and made it into a memorial to his sister and her husband. Of course, it still flowed really well because he just made it a family thing. Grandma Baoshan was still a main feature as the inventor of the splitboard. She passed her backcountry spirit onto her kids and on down. 

There was so much home-video footage from Xiao Xingchen’s teenage fascination with cameras, so much footage of Wei Ying’s mom. Less of Wei Changze, but there was enough. 

Wei Ying pauses, considering how he wants to take this conversation. He could just pass this off as a passing interest, or shift to talking about outdoor sports in the film industry. But he’s been pushing Lan Zhan out of his comfort zone a lot. Possibly too much. He’s earned this, if he wants it. So Wei Ying takes a deep breath and says, “It’s my family.”

“Your… You’re Cangse Sanren’s son?”

“I am!” He smiles as bright and wide as he used to for her. It almost doesn't hurt to do it for Lan Zhan.

“So when you said ‘uncle,’ you meant…”

“Yeah! Mama was never formally adopted by Grandma Baoshan, but yeah. I meant jiujiu.”

This is the moment, usually, when someone will lavish him with sympathy, condolences or whatever. Wei Ying hates it, but he understands. Death is hard, but more than that it's weird. It lingers, haunting every relationship for the rest of forever.

But Lan Zhan doesn't say all the uncertain placating things that Wei Ying is used to. His face draws in, not in discomfort but in… understanding.

He hums, a small sad noise and then says, “My mom died when I was young, too.”

Wei Ying could almost fall over with relief. Which is. Not the reaction he should have to that. “Do you remember her?” he asks.

“A little. I was six.”

“Oh, I was fourteen.”

“Tell me about her?”

Wei Ying gasps a little, despite himself. “Really?”

“You don’t hav—”

“No, I’d like to. I just." Nobody has ever asked him that before. "Yeah! Okay.” 

Wei Ying takes a deep breath. He doesn’t really know where to start, so he just talks. He tells Lan Zhan stories from his childhood. Stories about snow and laughter and family. 

He talks about her smile and the way she always seemed to have snow in her braid. She used to spray him with powder every time he beat her down the hill. It was funny and very Mama, but it also taught him to go slower, to take his time on the slope. She refused to let anybody else teach him how to ride. She taught him to carve, first on groomers and then in powder. She used to put hand warmers in her boots because her toes were always cold. And she was just constantly losing pairs of goggles. 

He tells Lan Zhan the story of how Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze met. How they shared a chair at Park City and Wei Changze, a skier, had waited for Cangse to strap in. How he had followed her, kept up with her, impressed her. How she’d invited him for a drink at the lodge but, when they figured out that neither of them could afford ski resort alcohol, they’d crawled into the back of Wei Changze’s beat up station wagon and smoked weed in the parking lot. 

He tells him about skiing between his baba’s legs when he was too young to snowboard. About Wei Changze’s impressive will power and consistency, like how he would just quit drinking coffee occasionally when he felt he was too addicted. And his lifelong commitment to skis, despite his wife’s family’s many attempts to convert him. It won him great esteem from one of his mothers-in-law and… something else from the other. 

“Grandma Baoshan always called him an ‘unrepentant skier’ and I was never sure if she meant that as a compliment or an insult.”

He tells him about his first backcountry trip when he was 9. About the absurdly small splitboard Baoshan Sanren had built for him in her garage. And then about Baoshan Sanren’s garage. The things she made, the prototypes she’d scrapped. How Song Lan was, and still is, the only one she allowed to fully access the garage, not even her wife is allowed in there unsupervised. And the way she’d chase Xiao Xingchen away any time he’d tried to point a camera in her general direction. 

He talks about Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan and going on full family outings with all seven of them packing into two cars and driving to the slopes in the early morning dark. How little Wei Ying would just cruise up the skin tracks once they’d been broken in. How he’d built his muscles surrounded by family and fresh powder. How he’d learned early to earn his turns. 

“I’ll take you up a mountain the fun way sometime,” he offers, and then laughs, delighted by Lan Zhan’s eager acceptance. 

He tells stories of Song Lan teaching him how to do all of the practical maintenance on skis and snowboards and splitboards because he basically did all of it for the whole family. Wei Changze would help and Wei Ying would get the skins all tangled and stuck to each other. How difficult it can be to get that adhesive out of hair. Or hair out of the adhesive. 

“There’s actually a picture in Mountain Immortal,” he says, “of me sitting in a pile of probably ten pairs of skins that Baba and Uncle Song had piled on me because I was causing so much trouble.”

He tells Lan Zhan that his favorite memory, the one he always goes back to, is of just the three of them. They’re at a resort, actually. Which one doesn’t matter, Wei Ying wouldn’t be able to recall the name anyway. All he sees is Wei Changze with his ski poles stuck out behind him for his wife and son to hold onto as he skates the three of them over the flats. 

“I was probably eleven at the time? Mama was squatting low, keeping her board flat, but she kept reaching over and poking at my knees trying to make me fall over.”

He’s crying, he realizes. Laughing and crying. He wonders how long that’s been going on as he wipes the tears from his cheeks. 

It’s that motion that finally pulls him back into the present. The lodge is empty, there’s a red and white paper tray half-full of fries between him and Lan Zhan that he doesn’t remember either of them getting up to buy, but he can taste the salt on his tongue so he knows he’s eaten some. His laptop is dead, but its battery was low anyway. Still, it must have been at least an hour since Lan Zhan found him here. 

“Sorry,” Wei Ying says, “that was probably a lot more than you were prepared for.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes are rimmed red and it’s possible he was crying at some point, too. He smiles. It’s small but real in a way few smiles are. It makes Wei Ying’s heart jump into his throat. 

“Thank you for telling me about your family, Wei Ying,” says Lan Zhan with an honesty that matches his smile. 

Wei Ying sniffs and rubs his hands against his snow pants. He shakes his head to shake away the ghosts. "You should really come out to one of our sessions some time," he says, gesturing toward the laptop. "You would look great on film."

Lan Zhan doesn't roll his eyes. Instead he looks pointedly toward the black screen where Wei Ying was just editing videos of him falling on his ass.

Another laugh jolts its way out of Wei Ying's lungs. This one isn't sad at all. And Lan Zhan is smiling again.

[cathrhea]

Okay this ship is a tad tough to propaganda for given that it's not completely headcanon but also not completely canon. Some of this stuff is just kinda inferred because these two don't ever really interact? Catherine just talks about Rhea a lot and Rhea doesn't really talk about or interact with Catherine much. I've shipped with less though!

Let's start with basics. They're both arguably bisexual. Rhea can enter a marriage with either gender of byleth, and Catherine has multiple romantic endings with men while simultaneously being in love with Rhea.

Multiple of Catherine's endings, even when she's married to someone else, have her leaving the church and retiring to Zanado with Rhea. She has one ending where she stays at the church, at that's with Byleth who has avatar privilege. Without Rhea, she pretty much always starts traveling the world. Rhea is the only reason she stays at the church.

In her S support with Byleth that she's a servant of Rhea, not the church. Whether Rhea is alive or not, she admits she's lost. Rhea means the world to her to say the least. This is because when Catherine was a student, her life was saved by Rhea. She was nearly killed by monsters, and Rhea took her "muddied, bloodied body into her arms (Byleth A support, 2019)…" She saved her life again after Rhea took her in once she had to flee Faerghus, thanks to a false regicide accusation. It's pretty clear why Catherine loves Rhea.

Her death quote asks Byleth to save her. She has an advice box where she mentions she's getting used to her absence, and hates it. She's assumes that Rhea doesn't feel nearly as strongly, as shown in her explore dialogue where she sadly says "Lady Rhea's not waiting for me, I know, no matter how much I might wish she were. She's waiting for you (Byleth) (Explore Chapter 21 AM, 2019)." Despite this for better or worse, she's still devoted to her. The only thing she refuses to do for her is die, which I'm not sure if she ever elaborates on. I assume it's because if she did, she couldn't serve her anymore.

Let's talk from Rhea's perspective. Rhea is said to be very lonely despite being surrounded by her followers. She also says she has no friends she can fully trust. Thanks to her past, she keeps everyone at arm's length. That doesn't mean she doesn't care about them. She also says she'd love to have lunch with the students, but is scared of being a bother. She's a lot more socially awkward than she seems.

So to have someone who has so much undying faith in her most likely means a lot. Rhea is probably aware of Catherine's crush, but she may be unaware of how deep it goes. Or she believes that if Catherine knew the truth, she'd abandon her considering that Rhea does have issues with that. It's a shame that the route that truly shows Catherine's loyalty, Crimson Flower, Rhea is beyond the point of really caring about what others think of her.

When Catherine finds out about the Immaculate one, she isn't horrified. She isn't upset. Her only concern is ending her love's suffering. Rhea needs someone who really and truly has her back, who won't judge her, and Catherine does.

Rhea's kindness and patience is something that Catherine needs in a partner. Catherine doesn't seem to think too highly of herself, she just puts her faith in Rhea. Rhea clearly trusts Catherine given that she lets her use a relic, aka one of her dead people, despite that Catherine doesn't really believe in the seiros faith. I feel Rhea does think highly of Catherine, but again she keeps everyone at arm's length. When they retreat to Zanado, Rhea can let her hair down and truly show how much she means to her.

Again much of this is headcanon, but most fe ships are. I think these two have a lot more potential than they're given credit for to have a fluffy relationship. It doesn't have to be toxic or one sided. Rhea clearly appreciates Catherine, it's just how far it goes that is up for debate. I do wish we got to hear more of how Rhea feels about Catherine, but that's what fanon is for. These two are super sweet in my opinion, and if we ever return to Fodlan I hope we can see more interactions between them. Also butch x femme dynamic slaps.

rhea x catherine

FE: Should they kiss?

Rhea x Catherine

[sga-owns-my-soul]

i'm sick and i want potato soup but we don't have potatoes and i am Going To Cry

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[ganondoodle]

(zelda comic rough draft)

im still unable to draw anything ... except for really slowly getting the chapter 2 rough draft further for some reason, another screenshot from page 59

[drizzerey]

(I will be redrawing this so she has her dress and is properly on her feet. But I have decided this is why he is doing this)

“You need to stop using that on me.” Lann bemoaned, which made Driz laugh.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She said, clear smile on her voice which told Lann, she knew exactly what he was talking about and denied it fully.

“Ever since I pointed it out, you’ve used it on me and it’s not at all fair, I don’t use it on you.” Lann complained, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Turning, Driz laughed. “Oh please, like that would work on me.” she claimed, so sure she was right.

Normally Driz was right, but Lann was fairly confident, and his lips slowly turned up into a smirk. “Oh really?” He challenged.

Driz smirked at him right back, clearly thinking she knew what she was talking about. “Absolutely.” She crossed her own arms, daring him with her green eyes to try and prove her wrong.

“Okay, you asked for it.” Lann shook his head, before he swiftly crouched in front of her, and wrapped his arms around her legs, bringing her flush against him. He looked up at her, trying to make his eyes as big as possible, and while she couldn’t see his mouth as her dress kinda hid it from view, there was no mistaking the sad frown he projected.

Instantly her confident demeanor dropped and Driz could not look away, her cheeks flushing and he knew he won, but he waited patiently for her to admit defeat.

Finally Driz managed to break eye contact and looked away with a pout. “Alright I admit you can.” She ground past her teeth.

“What was that?” Lann asked, trying his best not to let the expression fall yet, but it was hard with how much he wanted to grin up at her.

“You got me with the eye thing!” She huffed and refused to meet his eyes again. “Now stop it!”

Chuckling, Lann nuzzled her leg, dropping the big eyed look. “Are you upset I was right for once?”

“You are right more than once in a while.” Driz snapped. “Just thought I wouldn’t fall for it.”

“Ah, so you’re mad that you’re not as strong as you thought, against the look.” Lann laughed. “If it makes you feel better, there are a lot of looks at my disposal you aren’t strong enough to resist.” Driz crossed her arms and refused to meet his gaze still. “You won’t look at me because you know it’s true.”

“Oh quit rubbing it in!” Driz tried to get out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let go. “Lann,” She warned.

“Driz,” He purred. Now he was grinning full force up at her.

There was no doubt in his mind that if she truly wanted him to let her go or was not happy with him, he’d probably feel like he was dying in a split second. But Driz, despite her hurt pride, wasn’t going to hurt him. Though she was hanging onto her frustration a lot longer than he thought was normal. “You’re not actually mad are you?”

Sighing, Driz finally met his eyes. “No, I’m not mad. I just don’t like admitting defeat.” Driz said.

“We’re just having fun, I’m not going to hold it against you.” Lann promised.

“I know… I know.” She closed her eyes, before lowering herself so she was more in his lap. Lann settled them more on the ground, hugging her close. “At least you admit you’re cute.”

“Now wait a minute.” Lann protested, he hadn’t expected that.

“It’s the adorable animal look, you called it that long before I did, and you were so determined to prove you could do it. Therefore you’re admitting you are cute!” Driz was smiling up at him, clearly pushing aside whatever dark mood had taken hold of her.

Lann realized he had played himself and he frowned, closing his eyes with a curse. “Just cause I know how to… oh shush you, I am not adorable. You just have a weird perception of what’s cute.” He grumbled.

“You can try to deny all you want,” Driz poked his cheek and giggled when he growled a little. “I got you to admit you’re cute!” 

“Oh yeah, real cute. The ladies can’t get enough of me.” He huffed. It was not like with Driz who had to beat off people with a stick. Lann only ever attracted a few women, and they were all mongrels. Well not counting Driz.

“After the crusade I’ll take you around the world and you’ll see, Mendev is just terrible. I’ll have to start being all possessive.” Driz claimed.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Lann muttered.

Giggling, Driz leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve made a lot of things you thought couldn’t happen, happen. When are you going to start believing me?”

“You said you could resist me, and I just proved you wrong, showing that you can in fact be wrong sometimes.” Lann countered.

“I never once claimed I was always right!” Driz laughed, leaning more into him. No she didn’t think she was always right. Letting out whatever tension he was holding, he rested his cheek against her, snuggling closer and just feeling content with her in his arms.

doing a more sketchy look cause I'm kinda hating on my linework and cell shading right now so doing something a bit more fun for me.

No idea what Lann is asking for here, but Driz is just as bad as he is saying no the other. Also Driz is in her dressed down outfit cause I didn't wanna make her wear a dress and cover up a bunch of the details here.

Also I got some better reference images for Lann's in game model so hopefully this will help keep his look more consistent.

[hanzajesthanza]

this looks like a long time but initially it said 1 MONTH 15 days

[la-galaxie-langblr]

what is going on w my brain

[mmaurysiek]

thank you for indulging my curiosity about the subject! also, the songs are a blast 🫀

(the latter song reminds me of scheming with my little sister)

I agree that this is fascinating!

about ADHD and boredom — from what information I have (and that includes info that someone somehow tested dopamine levels of ADHDers who were made to wait like a few hours for the testing to get done, and apparently there was a rapid drop and by the end of it they had it comparable or lower to the lowest percentile of depression patients) — it's only called boredom because it's felt in situations which everyone insists are boring — but the actual experience is probably closer to sensory deprivation / dread. ....and now I have further guesses that would be unethical to test on purpose, so maybe it's better if my curiosity about it ain't sated.

(I did get myself bored on purpose, tho — what can I say, I'm like terminally curious (when not too burnt out), I have limited self-preservation, and it couldn't possibly be worse than electric surprise showers. or the time when I was curious what was going to happen if I didn't get REM sleep and caused myself to hallucinate a little.)

(the self-preservation does go a little funky when very necessary repeating life things like e.g. eating feel like torture, because of the boredom, doesn't it?)

I can't speak for ASPD because I personally even don't know (or don't know that I know) anyone who would have that experience without accompanying ADHD.

if we are comparing masking, I don't have the experience of dividing it by disorders so clearly. my own masking wasn't even focused on appearing more normal, I couldn't do that. instead I performed a calming, entertaining, very low maintenance presence. — and for that purpose, I masked some divergent and expected traits alike.

I'm fascinated with what you're saying about memory. most people's memories don't start that young, so I never before found anyone to compare this with — and it's the first time I've heard of this kind of memory shift. my own memory mechanism shifted a little differently (but also, the way my memory works has always been and continues to be kinda weird) — I have some static impressions from before, and then starting from the age of 3yo, before I could speak, some of my memories gain continuity (movement, action).

I'm not sure if that early start of my memories has anything to do with trauma. my first proper memory is simply full of frustration as I could not communicate what I needed to, that with knowing only like ten words, and the only relevant word there being "no". my second proper memory happens shortly after, and it's a time when my older sister almost accidentally threw me down a staircase, while she was panicking.

at first I memory-saved everything, but like a few years in — I had to consciously choose to throw out the specific wording of overheard conversations because I ran out of space and the new memories weren't saving anymore until after I made space for them 😅

thanks to you, I've realised that I'm not claustrophobic at all and more agoraphobic than I thought. I used to think that agoraphobia was only relevant for situations like e.g. when I scaled a building and held the rooftop for my dear life because it was incredibly disconcerting to have nothing but sky above me. — and yet it turns out that agoraphobia alone explains the core of my aversion to driving a car (traffic jams), as opposed to a bike (lets me leave the road at any time) or public transport (and its emergency exits) — (for some context, I live in Europe; there's no place without a village or town within a walking distance; I can and I have jumped outta train and walked the rest of the way, when it stopped moving forward) — I'm learning 👀💚

trapped in a corn maze again?? sounds like a terrible experience

having fun in order to cope reminds me of a different character from a different universe — someone who went all theatre kid on the third several years long research mission without break, after being the sole survivor of two previous ones >:3

about biases, I'm just a weirdo with a burning need to figure these things out consciously, so that I can identify the utmost minimum that I need to partake in, so that they can be played, learned, and improved upon — and you've just pointed at some problems with this that I'm trying to find a way to solve. (it's rare that I get to talk about these observations because people usually freak out about anyone approaching these things consciously 🤔)

about the definition of an abusive relationship — just because something may be dysfunctional rather than abusive - doesn't make it any better, any easier to experience. it's not a moral judgement from me, I'm simply trying to use accurate words as I know them — and I'm open to corrections on my vocabulary if they aren't — and yeah, as far as I can tell - the types of abuse apply even when the term abusive relationship does not. like, if one googles them somewhere online that's still applicable framing. 🤔

about intention based bias, I'm nodding along. you're describing it better than I could, not just here but also in other posts.

about physical and emotional pain, i've heard it a lot, that emotional is worse than physical. I'm absolutely no authority on this — I don't even feel pain like most people do, due to some genetic mutation that lowers the inflammation response, or something. so my subjective comparison wouldn't be relevant to general human experience.

that surgery sounds traumatic and horrible. I wish no one had to go through that.

Lets look at aspd from a neurodivergence sense for the amazing digitial circus as well as some other disorders (all for fun) And which personality disorders fit some of the cast

Aspd got that

Not valueing social or legal norms or morality for their own right (not necessarily against). Can have own morality.

Boredom is severely painful as well as situations where you feel trapped and can't escape easily (aspd has a high comorbidity with agoraphobia according to studies) which leads to urges (not necessarily actions) of harm to self andor others. Hence it having high self harm and suicide attempt rates, impulsivity, anger including lashing out with words or actions, addiction. All for relief.

And "improper response to punishment" meaning doesn't lower behavior but rather causes anger at punisher, doing it behind back, or no change

On average lower or missing or selective with who towards for specific emotions or reactions in regard to affective empathy, care, sompassion, guilt, shame. (Doesn't determine actions)

Now which characters fit that well enough...

JAX AND POMNI

Others fit things too. Ragatha fits the ego seeking and wanting praise and to be looked good of npd.

Gangle fits more the attention seeking of histrionic. With dysthymia's depressive mood typically

Zooble fits more of the not wanting any of it of schizoid

Kinger...like there is some things i could say but so much uncertainty other then autistic.

Also, slight spoiler for ep 4 but gangle was outright extremely abusive in episode 4, I said what I said. Way worse then what Jax had done for all of the episodes total. And no, none of it was deserved, people don't deserve to be abused. I can't believe I have to say that to this fandom.

No disorder makes you bad or abusive, your actions do

Ragatha tieing someone up and making it so they were unable to speak for an entire adventure when the person tied up likely has fear of situations difficult to escape from? Extremely bad. Because of actions. Doesn't matter if she did it for "good emotions"