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faux-ecrivain · 3 months

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Yan Therapist x gn darling ———————————— (Name’s Conroy Simons) (Name means; Conroy; ’Wise advisor’ Simons; ’listener’) (Thirty Fourth Official Post) ———————————————— Yan therapist who hates his job, he finds it all tedious, and he hates listening to people talk about their problems. Why did he ever accept this job? Yan therapist that used to love his job, every day he’d wake up excited to make a change in someone’s life. But after doing it for so long, 7 years to be exact, he’s no longer excited, and would much rather be retired. Yan therapist that does his best to mask his exhaustion, but ultimately fails when you ask him what’s wrong. Yan therapist that insists nothing is wrong, he doesn’t really like opening up. Yan therapist that reluctantly spills his guts after some intense persuasion on your part. Yan therapist that starts to look forward to your visits, you’re a surprisingly good conversationalists, when you aren’t feeling spiteful that is. Yan therapist that starts to take notes, not about your mental health (although he does take note of that), but about what you like, and who you like. You know, personal throngs like that. Yan therapist that gets jealous anytime you mention someone besides him, he gets especially jealous when you ramble about the love of your life (can’t you see that he’s the only one for you?). Yan therapist that “accidentally” started stalking you. (He’s only trying to keep you safe!) Yan therapist that starts to manipulate you, he tries to rationalize his actions by pretending that he’s doing what’s best for you.

(“Are you sure about this, doc? I mean, I don’t really think my friend’s all that bad.” Conroy sighs and smiles politely, masking the anger he feels when you question him.

“Yes, dear, I’m positive. It’s best if you stop spending time with them, they’ve done nothing but upset you, and confuse you. Don’t you remember when they left you behind at the mall? Or when they stole your sister’s boyfriend?”

He reminds you of all the terrible things that your friend did and makes you question your friendship with them. Still, you’re uncertain. “I don’t know, doc, I mean, that was all in the past. Surely, it’s okay to hang out with them now?” Conroy sighs and shakes his head, which causes you to groan because now he’s going to give you a lecture about listening to him.)Yan therapist that uses the close friendship the two of you curated to isolate you from your other friends, and people who may want to steal you from him. Yes, that includes your sister and your extended family. Yan therapist that gets irritated every-time you question him, why must you be so bullheaded? Don’t you know he’s only trying to keep you safe? Yan therapist that decides the only way to keep you safe is to keep you with him. Yan therapist that invites to his house at some point and eagerly hopes that you’ll agree. (Mostly because it’ll be easier to kidnap you that way) Sadly, you refuse his invitation, something about being uncomfortable in a stranger’s house. Instead, you decided to invite him to your house, which he happily agreed to. Yan therapist that looks forward to going to your house, his joyous mood is noticed by everyone at work (patients and colleagues included). Yan therapist that dresses in his best outfit (which is a rather sharp suit and a comfy turtleneck sweater, a strange combination, I know) when he comes to your house.

(You greet him with a friendly smile and compliment his outfit, which, of course, causes him to internally gush. But, he plays it cool and pretends your compliment didn’t mean the world to him. “Oh, thanks, it’s just something I threw on.” He shrugs, and you chuckle, then invite him inside.

Conroy shuffles into your house, the moment his feet his the threshold a strange feeling washes over him. It’s a mix of apprehension and elation. He can’t explain it, but it’s as though he stepped into a sacred place. A place that you only allow your closest friends to enter (this wasn’t true, of course, but he’s an idiot, and has no idea what you’re planning) Yan therapist that thinks this will simply be a friendly visit that may, or may not, lead to something more. (He eagerly accepts any, and all, hospitality you show him. Happily sipping the tea you made, even if it was scalding hot, and happily eating the scones you made, no matter how strange they tasted.) Yan therapist that listen to everything you say, even though it doesn’t make any sense (all your words are slurring together and for a moment, he thinks you’re drunk). Yan therapist that desperately tries to be active in the conversation, despite how strangely tired he’s feeling. He yawns and blinks rapidly as he desperately fights sleep. Yan therapist that’s ignorant to the malicious smile you flashed him. Yan therapist that succumbs to his exhaustion with reluctance, his cup falls out of his hand, and would have landed on the floor had you not caught it. You chuckle menacingly and, with some effort, tote his unconscious body into your basement. Yan therapist that wakes up many hours later to you taunting him for falling for your tricks, and yet he can’t help the strange joy he felt upon knowing that you spent many months planning his abduction. Yan therapist that’s slightly angry you abducted him because that was his plan! But, also, now he doesn’t have to try that hard to keep an eye on you! Yan therapist that decides this isn’t so bad, I mean, you aren’t the worst captor in the world (there’s room for improvement though, and luckily, he’s a master manipulator. So getting you to treat him better shouldn’t be too hard.) and you haven’t harmed him. Yes, you were a bit overzealous, but who isn’t from time to time? ———————————————————

#yandere oc #my writing #yandere x reader #enjoy this short fanfic!#gn reader #fanfic #not the best #Yandere oc x reader #yandere therapist x gn darling #yandere male #yandere x you #male yandere #gender neutral reader x yandere

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itsabouttimex2 · 5 months

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hey 👋 could you please do more of platonic yandere hawks x teenage bartender reader pls ? :)) I love your work

(Aw, thank you! I’ll go back and tag this series as “Teenage Bartender” since I’ve got a few fics for it now)

Patronage

Out of all the people you’ve ever served, Mr. Takami is definitely your favorite patron. The League of Villains ranges from outright bad to somewhat decent when it comes to personality, each causing you trouble in their own way.

Mr. Bubaigawara is also pretty alright, but you have to cut him off after a while so he doesn’t drink himself to sickness. He’ll switch from thanking you for looking out for him to criticizing you for being a “mood-killer” in the same breath. You like to believe that the kinder half of him is the “real” one. It always feels more sincere, in your opinion. You try to see the good in everyone around you, after all. No matter how hard it may be, or how dangerous or depraved the individual is.

Maybe you’re an optimist, Keigo Takami thinks to himself, nursing a non-alcoholic strawberry spritzer. Or maybe you’re simply too naive to see the dangers of the killers and criminals around you. Maybe it’s a case of feeling obligated to love the unloved, to accept the spurned, to try and save those dedicated to hurling themselves headfirst towards irredeemability. Maybe you sympathize with them, with what they’ve been through in their tumultuous and checkered lives.

No matter what the reason is, what really matters is that you, in spite of whatever horrid circumstances have landed you in the middle of these villains, playing caretaker and maid and nanny to drunk, belligerent murderers…

You’re still kind.

That’s why Keigo truly believes that you, more than anyone else here, can be redeemed.

Not only because of the way you treat him, but also the way you treat your “coworkers”.

When Toga gets immediately drunk off of whatever cutesy cocktail she begged you to whip up, you help her get to a couch and make her lay down, leaving a bin by her side. When Shigaraki is having another one of his tantrums, you line up all the broken glasses and worn down equipment you have onto the countertop so he has something to focus his aggression on. You listen close to all of Spinner’s rants about Stain, even if you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You see something in them, clearly. Keigo isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but he’d love to know. Do you care about them? Do you think they could redeem themselves? Do you think you can off-put their suffering and bloodthirstiness by being kind? Do you consider them to be family? Do you consider him family?

You’ve been around him long enough to see him as a friend, surely. You treat the winged double-crosser with the same forthcoming kindness that everyone receives when they sit at your counter, ensuring that he’s happy, hydrated, warm, and not-

“-hurt? Mr. Takami, did you get hurt?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t quite catch that one. Run it by me again?”

“That mission ran a little long, didn’t it? Usually you’re back a lot sooner, so I wanted to make sure that you were alright, Mr. Takami. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Keigo is a well-guarded man. He doesn’t give away too much and he’s good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. Still, he can’t keep himself from smiling right now. With a gloved hand, he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

“Just fine, kiddo. Things got a little troublesome- when don’t things get troublesome, huh? But i got the job done no problem, like always.”

You try to meet his smile evenly, taking his drained glass and giving him a fresh drink in turn. There’s a moment of strange silence, something’s there’s never been between the two of you.

“I’m really glad,” you quietly admit to him, breaking the lull. “I think you’re… you’re the only one who talks to me the way you do. I don’t…”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his twined fingers. “Talk to me, pint-size. You’ve got my ear. I’ve got some time to kill.” He adds the last line just to make sure that you know he won’t mind if this takes a while. Even if he didn’t have the time… he would make it, for you.

“I really, really do like everyone! Really, I do! But it just feels… it all feels so endless, Mr. Takami. If someone isn’t mad at me, they’re puking on the floor. If they aren’t puking, they’re crying in the corner. If they aren’t crying, they’re picking fights. If they’re not fighting, they’re breaking things. If they aren’t breaking things, they’re mad at me for something. It just goes on and on, and I- I just-“

You pause, your breath hitching inwards sharply as you bury your face into your hands. You put your palms flat on the countertop, staring at your weary reflection on the polished surface.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Takami. And I feel like I’m never gonna get to take a break.”

“Okay, come over here,” Keigo guides, leading you around the counter by your hand and towards where he remembers seeing you head each night. Your personal room, he assumes. “The bar,” you try to argue as he pulls you along, “needs me at the counter. What if someone comes by for a drink?” Your words fall on deaf ears, it seems. “Most of the league is made of grown men, kid. Trust me, they can stomach a few hours without alcohol.”

He opens the door, giving himself the first view of your room he’s ever seen.

Knowing that you can’t see the face he’s making, the undercover hero allows himself to frown at the sight.

This isn’t a bedroom. This is a storage closet with a small bed and a nightstand. It’s barely four feet wide, and just about six feet long. The sort of room you’d put spare brooms and mops in, where you’d hide away a half-used gallon of drain cleaner or spare dish soap bottles you had gotten on sale. A place too claustrophobic and enclosed for anything except supplies.

But instead, this room had been given to you, a literal teenager who was giving their all to support the League in spite of getting nothing out of it.

For just a moment, his blood boils.

The League can pretend to be good. They can pretend to be heroes and freedom fighters. They can pretend that they’re fighting for a fair and just society. They can pretend that they aren’t monsters and murderers.

But this is how they treat their own. He’s always known this. The League of Villains prioritizes powerful, dangerous individuals above all else, prioritizes those who can spread chaos and mayhem in the name of their destructive goal. And you don’t fit into that powerhouse category, so you get shuffled away, tucked out of sight when they don’t have you serving them or playing babysitter to grown drunkards.

Keigo thinks he understands it, at least. But the truth is that some of the League do care for you. Twice, Spinner, Magne, Toga, Mr. Compress… all of them do care about you, as a friend or as family. And in turn, you care for them.

But he doesn’t think of that. As he helps you into the cramped bed, he thinks of “saving” you, and getting you out of here. Of bringing you home and keeping you safe from the harms and horrors of the world around you.

And there will soon come a day that you tumble out of the villain’s claws and into a hero’s talons.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere MHA #Yandere Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami #Teenage Bartender

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 6 months

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chapter xxiii – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,500+

masterlist

“You are being awfully quiet, my dear.”

Y/N blinked, getting mentally awoken by Leonora’s comment. “Sorry, I just…I don’t think the hand-made gown tailored specifically for me was necessary.”

Leonora looked confused. “And why is that?”

Y/N’s gaze couldn’t lift from the floor as she answered, “I do not think it is wise for me to attend the celebration.”

All of the servants and seamstresses froze from the statement and subtly looked at their Lady of Autumn for indication of how they should react.

But Leonora, calm and collected per usual, just gave Y/N a gentle smile. She nodded to the seamstress that was kneeling at Y/N’s foot to continue her work.

Then she looked up at Y/N without judgment or worry, but with an encouraging smirk and soft eyes. “Why would it not be wise for the mate of our new High Lord to attend his coronation, Y/N?”

The witch finally looked up from the ground to meet her gaze. “Will it not give the people of his Court the wrong idea? I am not the next Lady of Autumn, nor have I accepted his bond. I do not wish to put Eris in an uncomfortable position.”

Leonora gave a sad nod. “I see…” she sighed.

She turned around and gave everyone in the room a soft request to leave the two of them.

Y/N’s heart started beating faster as she watched them all quietly exit.

Was Leonora about to scold her? Yell at her for refusing to accept her son as his mate?

No, that couldn’t be it.

Leonora had been nothing but kind to Y/N since they met. Never once did she pressure her on behalf of Eris. She hardly ever brought up their relationship. Most of the time, Y/N felt like Leonora was just happy to have a new female friend in the Forest House, especially after so long of being a prisoner here.

Leonora offered Y/N her hand to help her off the platform she was standing on for the seamstresses. Then she held both of her hands gently as she told her, “You forget, Y/N, that you are more to Autumn Court than simply the mate of its new High Lord.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Leonora smiled. “You are their savior. Yes, it was Eris who slayed Beron in the end. But he would not have had the courage or strength to do so without you. Most in this Court despised and feared Beron Vanserra. You have given this Court a chance for change.”

Y/N’s face grew hot from the praise.

Leonora gave her a sympathetic look before adding, “But also I cannot say that as Eris’ mother, I do not also have selfish motives, as well. You make him stronger. I worry how he will be if he if he goes through such a coronation alone.”

“But you and Lucien will be there,” Y/N tried to argue.

Leonora tilted her head and gave her a look. “It is not the same, and I think you know that, my dear.”

Then she looked down at the beginnings of the dress on Y/N’s body that the seamstresses had begun.

“As for the dress, Eris wishes to spoil you with finery and I can’t argue with his intentions,” Leonora teased with a smirk.

But her expression sobered. “However, I know neither he nor anyone else will fault you for avoiding such a celebration. So much has been thrust upon you, and in so little time. You must do what is best for you.”

Y/N frowned and looked down at herself. “I will let them finish the dress – if only to please everyone. I would feel bad for throwing away all their hard work they’ve already done.”

Leonora nodded. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

In the following weeks, the Forest House was bustling with activity.

Apparently, the coronation included inviting every High Lord and Lady of of Prythian.

Which meant the servants and cooks were frantic with preparations. Lucien had explained to her that the staff saw this as an opportunity to show why Autumn Court should be considered the best of Prythian. With a new High Lord came a new chance to prove that Autumn Court could change for the better and they were not to be overlooked.

Therefore, Y/N tried to stay out of everyone’s way. She either hid in the library, continuing her personal research or she was in her workshop, keeping herself busy with spells and potions.

However, on the day of the coronation, she stayed hidden in her bedchambers, scared that leaving would only bring attention to the fact that she would not be attending the festivities.

Maids and seamstresses had knocked on her door early in the morning. But Y/N simply ignored them, not wanting to see the looks of disappointment when she told them she would not be going to the coronation.

Y/N tried to distract herself by the fire, sitting on a chaise lounge with a romance novel in hand when more aggressive knocking came at the door.

She planned on ignoring it again, but then she recognized the group of voices on the other side.

“Y/N, if you do not open the door, we will break it down!” Nesta threatened loudly.

She jumped up and hurried to the door to whip it open.

On the other side, were her three Valkyrie sisters: Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie.

Not only that, but they clearly dressed and done up for the coronation.

Nesta wore a simple black, velvet dress. But it was not simple in the way that it fit her body like a glove and edged toward risqué. Y/N had always appreciated how Night Court attire never strayed from being seductive and showing skin. Gwyn wore a more elegant black dress, which made Y/N wonder if Nesta was using her mate’s money to buy her friends luxurious gowns. Emerie wore leathers, that could have been a warrior’s uniform, over pants. Though less feminine, they were still formal and lavish in their own way.

When the Illyrian saw Y/N eyeing her outfit, she shrugged. “I was never really one for gowns…”

“You all look beautiful,” Y/N muttered. “B-But w-what are you doing here?” Y/N gasped in shock.

“We’re here for you, obviously!” Gwyn urged and pulled Y/N into a warm hug.

“Eris invited us,” Emerie confirmed with a smile, also walking into her rooms.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Nesta asked, looking Y/N up and down as she closed the door behind them.

Y/N frowned. “I…I am not going.” Her eyes stayed down, scared to see their reactions to such a confession.

But, without hesitation, Gwyn announced, “Then we will stay in here and drink ourselves silly!”

Y/N’s jaw dropped at how unfazed her friends were. “B-But you will miss the festivities. And you all look so lovely.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “This will not be our last opportunity to dress up. We would much rather hang out with you than all the stuffy High Lords and their nobles.”

Then Emerie nudged Nesta. “But we must still tell her our plan.”

“Plan?” Y/N questioned, eyes scanning all of them.

“Helion Spell-Cleaver will be in attendance!” Gwyn squealed.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, immediately thinking of Leonora and Lucien. She wondered if the Lady of Autumn would ever reveal to her past lover and her youngest son of the secret relation. Or if Leonora would ever follow her heart and return to Helion.

“Yes, all of the High Lord’s have been invited…” Y/N muttered, not understanding their clear excitement.

“Helion is the sole owner of the last of the pegasuses,” Emerie explained.

Nesta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “And he makes sure to remind everyone of it, using them as his transport to any event he possibly can.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped for concern. “Please, please, please tell me you do not plan on stealing Helion’s pegasuses.”

“Don’t be silly,” Gwyn brushed off. “However, we do plan on sneaking into their enclosure to give them some pets.”

“And perhaps seducing Helion into giving us one or two…” Nesta added while looking at her nails. Y/N gaped at her. “What? He’s already propositioned me to join an orgy once when I visited Day Court.”

“Yes, before you accepted Cassian as your mate!” Emerie pointed out.

Nesta quirked a brow. “Who said Cassian would not be participating?”

“Those smutty books of yours have given you too many ideas,” Y/N laughed.

“More like inspiration,” Nesta corrected. “And inspiration that my mate is very enthusiastic about trying.” Then she pointed to the book Y/N had been reading when they arrived and quirked a brow. "Do not pretend you are above them."

“OK. Enough about your bedroom habits!” Gwyn interrupted. Then she turned her attention to Y/N. “Are you in or are you out?”

The witch smiled. “Of course I’m in.”

Minutes later, they were sneaking around the Forest House, Y/N led them toward where she assumed any guests horses would be quartered for the night.

But before they could reach it, a gust of wind wrapped around the females.

“He…needs…you,” The wind whispered to Y/N. “Go…to…him. He cannot…do this…without you.”

Y/N froze in the hallway.

“What? What is it?” Emerie asked.

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. “Eris needs me. I will catch up to you later.”

“Oh, for Cauldron’s sake!” Gwyn cried. “As if we would make you go alone.”

“She’s right,” Nesta added. “Someone needs to do your hair and makeup.”

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Eris swore his back had a metal pole along his spine with out tense and stiff his posture was. He knew his expressions were cold and unwelcoming. But he was in a room with too many people he had yet to decipher friend or foe. The nobles of Autumn Court smiled at him, but most only wanted good favor with the new High Lord. And for those that weren’t smiling, there were plenty that looked at him with fear or uneasiness, trying to gauge if he was just as bad as Beron.

His mother kept giving him tense, but encouraging smiles every time he spotted her in the crowded hall.

When to use his mask and when to reveal his true self, Eris did not know.

It was easier when Y/N was by his side. She eased him, reminded him of who he truly was. The mask never felt needed when her scent surrounded him.

But his mate was not here, nor was she coming.

And Eris couldn’t blame her. These events of politics and groveling were conniving at their best and boring at their worst. If he could skip it too, he would have. But that was no way to officially take over the throne of a broken court that needed mending.

Eris once again caught sight of a group of courtier daughters. They whispered and giggled at him, hardly even bothering to subdue their staring. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed how they seemed to edge closer and closer as the night went on.

Yes, Eris was handsome and powerful. Female attention was not something he was unaccustomed to. But he knew what those females were truly after were the wealth and power being married to a High Lord would bring. It didn’t matter that everyone knew of his mortal witch mate. They wanted him for themselves regardless.

His attire did nothing to help him blend in to the crowd. New, custom armor glinted against the thousands of candles and faelight surrounding them. And the blood red cloak stood out – even in Autumn Court.

Eris threw back the rest of his faerie wine, hoping he could get drunk enough to keep his wits about him, while also making the evening go by faster.

“Another?” A male voice offered from over his shoulder.

Eris turned to see Rhysand handing him another full glass, Feyre glued to his side with a knowing smirk.

“I promise I did not poison it,” Rhysand added.

“At this point, you would be doing me a favor,” Eris grumbled, taking a sip immediately.

Rhysand smirked. “Already over being High Lord, Eris?”

“I became High Lord to make my Court a better place, not to rub shoulders with nobles and courtiers who wish to use me to gain favor…”

“And I’m sure being away from Y/N is only making your mood more sour,” Feyre muttered more teasingly.

“She may do what pleases her. I’m sure her Valkyries have found her by now and are keeping her company.”

“Are you quite sure about that…” Feyre asked as she looked behind Eris.

The High Lord of Autumn Court quickly turned to follow her gaze.

At the entrance of the great hall stood Y/N.

Eris felt the invisible string attached to his heart go taut. A feeling Y/N had not experienced, and probably never would.

Despite her entrance not being formally announced, many had gone quiet and began to stare.

Someone had pulled Y/N’s hair up and done her makeup. Though Eris found her beautiful regardless, the level of glamour around her made her magnetic.

Meanwhile, Y/N held her head high as she slowly, yet confidently, walked further into the room. She was doing a good job of ignoring the scrutiny, but Eris could tell that she was more than aware of the staring.

Her dress fit her perfectly. And while most attendees wore green and the rustic browns of the court, Y/N had not strayed away from vibrant red, almost looking as if she were glowing like fire itself. Eris realized it matched with his own cloak. There were strips of black in her gown that felt like a call out to her short time in Night Court, where she had already gained respect and acceptance.

Eris wanted to go to her immediately. But he had to hold himself back. There was a reason she was late and walked in alone, instead of on his arm. It was clear that she worried about making his court believe she had accepted the mating bond.

But if Eris had his way, he’d use his magic to shove everyone out of the path from Y/N to him. He’d stop any conversation he was having – no matter how rude or undiplomatic it was – to give her his full attention and affection.

“Will you not go to her?” Feyre asked, concern obvious in her tone.

Y/N’s friends of the Night Court were unaware of the the change in her relationship with the High Lord of Autumn. They did not realize how far the two had come, how much had changed. Everything was so much more complicated than how it had begun: a male desperately hiding his mate in a court that was not his.

–🍁–

Y/N felt the eyes on her. She wondered if all of them were judgment or if there was also just innocent curiosity.

She wished she’d forced the Valkyries to drink heavily with her before leaving her bedchambers, because being sober for this felt like a cruel torture.

The three of them convinced Y/N that she needed to walk in without them. That she needed to walk in confident and independent.

But Y/N underestimated how many stares she'd receive in return.

So, she decided to straight line to where refreshments were being served. Feyre had once warned her away from fae wine, for it is far too strong for mortals to consume in the same manner as fae.

But right now, Y/N didn’t care.

Of course she couldn’t make it there without overhearing a group of females. Whether they had noticed her arrival, she had yet to discern.

“Now that his dreadful father is dead, I wonder where the High Lord will find his…entertainment,” one female said somewhat quietly.

Another chimed in with, “I once heard he would only bed harlots at pleasure halls in other Courts, in fear that Beron would kill any female who could sire a child from him.”

“But now he has a mate. Surely that means any and all of our efforts will be wasted,” a third female added.

“Oh, please.” The first female scoffed. Y/N didn’t have to look at her to know that she was rolling her eyes. “She is not even a fae. Truly, how long do you believe we will have to stay away before her mortal life ends?”

This is a terrible mistake, Y/N thought. She should have never shown her face here. This was exactly what she had been wanting to avoid.

Obviously Eris was a desired male – High Lord or not. And who was she to get in the way of him finding a suitor that was of his Court, of his own kind?

But, suddenly, the females stopped talking abruptly.

Had they finally noticed Y/N’s presence? Did they even care enough to make sure she didn’t overhear such things?

“High Lord Eris,” the first one greeted overly sweet. “How lovely of you to join us.”

Y/N whipped around to find Eris’ eyes already locked to hers as he stood a few feet away from her.

He ignored the female High Fae entirely, not even glancing in her direction.

Y/N didn’t know how to address him in such a setting. She looked around before starting to lower her head into a bow.

You do not bow to anyone, Rhysand’s voice suddenly snuck into her head.

With her dress and fanciful jewelry, Y/N had removed her protective amulet that stopped any daemati from entering her mind. That meant the High Lord and Lady of Night Court were free to speak to her mind freely.

Ignore them, Rhysand added. He has been waiting for you all night.

Eris didn’t greet Y/N verbally. Because nothing would’ve felt right.

But his eyes said everything.

And slowly he offered her his hand.

Y/N’s chest heaved as she put her glass down before stepping forward and lightly placing her hand in his grip.

Without breaking eye contact, Eris lowered his mouth and kissed it.

Without hesitating, he pulled Y/N to him and tucked her hand under his arm so it gripped his bicep. Then he placed his other hand over it, securing her further to his side.

Without asking for direction, Y/N quietly followed him as he guided them to the center of the room.

There was suddenly a female gasp from behind them. Eris didn’t turn, but Y/N looked over her shoulder to see that the first female from the group was covered in red wine. So much so that it was dripping off of her fine gown.

And there was Nesta… holding an empty glass with a smug, but melodramatically innocent look. Gwyn and Emerie were trying to hide their amusement.

"My mistake," Nesta gasped deviously.

Y/N didn’t know when her friends had joined her, but clearly it was early enough that they had caught the dreadful things those females had been saying about her and her mate with their fae hearing.

Then there was a screech of fear and a soft growl.

She looked down to see that her new little pet fox, Ronan, was nipping and growling at the group of rude females. How he escaped from her bedchambers was beyond her. But clearly he didn’t like being away from her.

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the sight.

Then she whistled softly and Ronan’s head snapped in her direction. He didn’t need another command, so he floppily ran to her and Eris, trotting along beside them.

When she turned forward again, Y/N realized Eris was leading them to the throne.

And with the wave of his hand, Eris pushed his throne over a foot and a second one appeared magically beside it.

Y/N’s head whipped to him, wanting to ask him what in the Cauldron he was doing.

But then she realized he was making a statement. There were some who would question her and her relationship with their new High Lord. But Eris was announcing to everyone that she was to be treated and respected as their High Lady, whether she accepted his bond or not.

“Eris,” she whispered in a hiss.

Her anxiety was skyrocketing at the statement he was about to make.

But he ignored her subtle plea, and instead just said, “Head high, little witch.”

He guided her carefully up the steps that led to the throne and waited for her to sit before he took his own.

The room quieted and turned their attention to Eris.

Y/N controlled her expressions, but her heart was racing from confusion of what she was meant to do.

They will crown him now, Rhysand’s voice entered Y/N’s mind again. He wants you at his side, therefore you belong there. Act like you know it.

Y/N found both Rhysand and Feyre in the crowd, which was fairly easy since they were the only people wearing black in a sea of mostly Autumn Colors – except for the other High Lords that were in attendance.

The couple gave her encouraging grins. Then she found Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie standing next to them, doing the same.

Cassian gave her a proud and beaming smile.

Y/N listened as one of Eris’ advisors started speaking the ritual of crowning the newest High Lord.

It was shorter than she expected. Though she struggled with paying attention, too focused on maintaining her posture and composure while being put on the same display as Eris.

Then the advisor was standing behind Eris, slowly lowering a rustic golden crown atop his head. It was in the shape of fallen leaves, with subtle hints of autumn red and green in the detailing.

As soon as it settled on his head, Eris turned to Y/N with his hand outstretched to her.

Without hesitation, she took it.

Together they stood.

The room immediately lowered into a bow – except for the other High Lords, who only subtly bowed their head in respect.

Y/N found Leonora’s gaze amongst them and she had a proud smile on her lips, but it was not only directed at her son.

Eris helped Y/N sit once again.

People started moving closer toward the throne.

Y/N realized the courtiers and lords were swearing their allegiance now.

A male high fae stepped forward first, bowing his strawberry blonde head deeply.

“Lord Foley,” Eris greeted indifferently.

The male bowed his head again and then turned his gaze to Y/N, opening his mouth to formally introduce himself to her.

“You are Eoghan Foley?” Y/N asked him before he could speak.

The males eyes widened in surprise.

“You own the majority of farms in the south east territory, correct?”

The male looked even more surprised.

Eris smirked at his mate, deciding to let her speak while he watched.

“You are known for paying your farmers the most, even when Beron underpaid you in an attempt to raise competition amongst other lords.”

Eoghan bowed his head. “My workers deserve a fair wage, Lady Y/N. When treated with respect they are more inclined to stay and there is less loss.”

Y/N then turned to Eris, having a silent conversation with their eyes.

“And for that, you shall be rewarded,” Eris’ voice came out strong and confident. And the entire room could clearly hear it. His gaze moved about the room. “The days of exploitation are over. Those of Autumn Court deserve to be paid for their work. Such competition only turns us against each other.” His eyes moved back to the lord. “A bonus will be delivered to you before nightfall tomorrow, Lord Foley.”

The male looked taken aback at such a decision. He half-expected to find that Eris was no better than his tyrant father. But he was instantly proven wrong.

“T-Thank you High Lord Eris,” he said with another bow. Then he looked up at Y/N before turning his gaze to the floor. “And to you, Lady Y/N. Our people are already indebted to you for bringing Autumn Court back into the light.”

“I hear your wife is a talented sculptor, Lord Foley.” Y/N noted with kindness in her eyes. “I hope to see her work for myself someday.”

“Any time you wish, Lady Y/N.”

“Enough business and politics for tonight,” Eris announced once Lord Foley had moved back into the crowd.

Then he eyed the other High Lords who were in attendance. All of them had been studying him and his interactions carefully. “Otherwise, we shall be spilling Autumn’s secrets to our guests who have their own Courts to govern.”

His courtiers laughed lightly at his joke.

With the swipe of Eris’ hand, the lighting in the room darkened to a moodier setting. And the symphony took their signal to begin playing music.

The guests started coupling up to dance.

Once again, Eris stood and offered Y/N his hand.

She took it, but moved close to his side so she could whisper, “I do not know these formal dances.”

Eris squeezed her hand tightly. “Trust me,” he simply whispered back.

When they entered the center of the dance floor, Eris pulled them into the proper stance. “I will lead. Just relax and do not overthink it.”

And Y/N did just that.

Either the steps were not as complicated as she had presumed or Eris was good dance partner. But they swayed across the floor. And despite hundreds of eyes watching them, the room disappeared around them, and it was just them.

“Thank you for saving me,” Eris whispered in her ear as he pulled her even closer.

Y/N knew this closeness was more immoral and informal, but she needed it. And if it was improper, Eris didn’t seem to care one bit.

“I hardly did anything,” Y/N admitted softly.

“You did more than you could ever understand,” he countered quickly. “You continue to be my savior, Y/N.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Y/N confessed softly. Her lips quirked as she added, “The worst loneliness is felt while surrounded by others.” Repeating her past statement from the night he had confessed how lonely he'd once been in this court.

Eris stopped abruptly, pulling their dance to a halt.

His eyes slowly went from her eyes to her lips.

Y/N knew he wanted to kiss her. She could feel it. And she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want him to, as well.

Eris was calculating how safe it was to show such affection to his mate so publicly. Another voice in his head was telling him he should to whatever he damn well pleased.

A deep voice cleared their throat behind her.

They turned to see Cassian standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

He gave a polite bow to them. “I was hoping to share a dance with my favorite witch.”

Y/N smiled at his playfulness. But she also saw the hidden message in his gaze. Her friend was trying to save her if she so wanted it.

She turned back to Eris, half expecting him to be giving the Illyrian a death glare. But the High Lord only nodded, and slowly removed Y/N from his grasp.

“She has much to share with her friends,” Eris offered him.

“Shall we?” Cassian asked her with his hand offered.

The Illyrian's dancing just further proved how skilled Eris was. But Y/N didn't mind Cassian's clumsy feet.

“I am the only witch you know,” she glared playfully at him.

“Yes, but if I were to ever meet any more, you would still be my favorite.” He spun her sloppily, ignoring the steps everyone else was following.

He lowered his voice as he said, “I only wanted to offer you an escape. It seems tensions are high between the two of you…”

“Thank you,” Y/N told him with a frown. “I fear I am lost.”

His brow furrowed as he turned them. “How so?”

Her eyes surprisingly welled with tears. “Cassian…I-I-I love him.”

-------------------

I know it took me a long time to update. But I worked really hard on this. And I loved putting together everyone's outfits. 🥹

Please leave a lovely comment. You know I love a book report. @pancakefancake

#acotar #gust & flame #eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #autumn court #high lord of autumn #lady of autumn #cassian #nesta archeron #gwyneth berdara #emerie of illyria

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panicroomsammy · 6 months

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Throughout the show Sam and Dean are repeatedly confronted with people telling them their relationship is unusual, but this never seems to sink in for them. The canon compliant interpretation is repression and that they have never acted on their more than brotherly feelings for each other, but I have another theory: they started acting on these feelings way too young and can never acknowledge that they act on them because of this. I’m putting it under a cut for containing severely underage sex but I’ve been thinking about this for days and just have to get it out of my system.

You see, when some kinds of relationships start so young that the people in them don’t know what to call it, it can either never be given a name or it can end. I don’t know if there is any relationship in the world that can survive saying out loud “we started having sex when both of our ages were in the single digits and that was really fucked up but do you want to keep doing it.” But Sam and Dean’s relationship cannot end - they are soulmates after all - so they can never say it out loud. It started before there was a word for it so now there never will be a word for it.

It starts when Sam is two or three and Dean is six or seven. They sleep in the same bed - they have practically ever since either of them can remember. Legs wrapped around each other maybe one of them grinds against the other just the wrong way and it feels good and they don’t stop. Maybe it starts with Sam maybe it starts with Dean, it doesn’t matter - it happens. Maybe Dean already has some idea of what’s going on, maybe he’s done this before on his own, but he doesn’t fully grasp that it’s wrong for him to be doing it with another person. Maybe he has the vague feeling that it would be Bad if John found out about this but he can’t put his finger on why - just an internalization of societal norms that he doesn’t understand and never will. It stays this way all through childhood. Humping turns to touching themselves next to each other turns to touching one another directly. When Dean is in middle school there’s some kind of sex ed class and he finds it intriguing - he’s always been interested in sex - but never puts together that what he’s doing with his little brother is sexual. They’re both boys after all and sex is something you do with a woman. When Sam reaches middle school teenage Dean figures it’s his job to teach his little brother about sex. He never stops to consider that it’s something they’ve already been doing. Dean loses his virginity to some girl in high school. As far as he’s concerned it’s the first time he’s had sex with another person - sex requires a pussy, after all. Some time in their teen years they start going farther. It would seem impossible for the denial to continue at this point but it does. They’re just doing this because they’re brothers, because they need to be closer to each other.

Then maybe Sam realizes. Or maybe he doesn’t. If he does, maybe that’s part of why he leaves. It would be impossible for their relationship to continue once one of them accepted that the start of it at least had been messed up. But then Dean shows up and drags Sam away from his normal life. Was Sam ever really capable of normal, of enjoying normal things in normal ways after everything? Maybe Sam never did realize anything. Maybe he was living in his normal life like a dream, never understanding why it never quite felt right. Then he’s back with Dean. Their relationship is so, so much more than just sex-that-isn’t-sex - that’s just what I’m talking about here - so this doesn’t pick back up immediately. There are so many more things to sort out. But then one night they’re just both horny at the same time and they do find themselves exactly where they left off. It still isn’t sex. Sex is something you do with women. Sex isn’t something you do as a kid. They did this as kids, so it isn’t sex.

When the siren says it wants to be their brother because it wants to fall in love, neither of them bats an eye. When Ash tells them they’re soulmates they’re relieved to spend eternity together but not much else. When countless people assume them to be a couple they’re genuinely confused - they’ve just always been this way so they can’t be a couple because couples are people who haven’t always been that way.

#wincest #weecest #samdean #here’s my entire soul but whatever #also if you’ve taken the LSAT just ignore that Sam could not get a 174 on the LSAT and commit the kind of logical fallacies here lmao

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mediacircuspod · 10 months

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AJ Crowley vs Forgiveness

I need to talk about Crowley for a minute so buckle up or move on.

"It’s not so bad once you get used to it” from Season 1 Episode 1 and an early chapter of the book is something of a throwaway joke. But being damned isn't much of a joke to Crowley, even if he makes jokes to cover it up.

The first thing to understand is that damnation doesn’t end after Crowley either saunters vaguely downwards or is dropped into a burning pile of sulfur(conflicting accounts from the demon himself). Being damned is a continuous state of being AND something that could very well happen to him again.

He was too ambitious for heaven—too curious. Something that he now knows is distinctly not a heavenly virtue. It’s just that those traits are also not virtues in hell either. And on top of that—he’s good.

Which in his particular role, is an extremely dangerous thing to be. So he isn’t good, and he isn’t nice and he doesn’t feel trite things like empathy or love. Except that he knows intrinsically that all of that is utter bullshit. And if anyone who isn’t Aziraphale realizes this, he doesn’t really know what falling from hell would be like, but he doesn't want to be the first.

Another thing to remember is that Crowley doesn’t understand why he was cast out. He understands that it was the questions, that it was his ambition to try and suggest improvements, but he can’t understand why. And the shame of that being yet another question is not lost on him.

The resentment there that has festered for millennia is understandable and expected and HES RIGHT TO FEEL IT. And it’s the reason why he has such a negative reaction to the concept of “forgiveness” but has a relatively amicable relationship with apologies. And I know this is going to sound crazy after nearly 400 words, but this is the actual concept I want to dissect.

Because Aziraphale’s “I forgive you”s of the past have never gotten a good response, but they’ve also never gotten a “don’t bother”. Aziraphale uses that phrase specifically against Crowley when he needs to put distance between them. When he knows that Crowley is right. And Crowley knows that Aziraphale uses that phrase for exactly that purpose because they have being playing their parts for thousands of years. And he’s always been willing to wait in the past. The dance begins with Crowley challenging Aziraphale with something tempting.

The Great plan is dumb. What if we just left together? You’re being dumb. (I need to link that one Tumblr post that inspired this, just look at this.) Here.

And finally, desperately, This is what you’re giving up. Because Crowley doesn’t actually think it will work. He may hope it does. But he has played his part for long enough to know exactly what Aziraphale’s next line will be. And it still devastates him. And well, it’s his decision to be done waiting for Aziraphale to catch up. Being “too fast” has been his insecurity for too long, and he’s done slowing down just so Aziraphale can try and forgive him. He still doesn’t know why what he is, is wrong.

(He isn’t)(I mean he certainly makes some unhealthy choices, and he isn’t exactly completely in the right, but he’s NOT wrong.)(Running away together ISNT the right move, but it is the more romantic one so take that as you will.)

The part that makes my brain buzz is that this aversion to forgiveness does not apply to apologies. Specifically it does not apply to the phrase “I was wrong” or "you were right" or the little dance.

This. Is. Interesting.

He doesn’t have a problem with apologizing, and he doesn’t have a problem accepting apologies from Aziraphale if that wonderful scene is to be taken at face value. The fact that the 1941 apology dance wasn’t shown is actually a crime, and you can’t convince me otherwise. And I think this is specifically because he’s not actually averse to forgiveness on the whole. It’s the idea that he needs forgiveness for simply being who he is that actually bothers him. And well. I guess he was tired of Aziraphale pretending that the concept had merit, too.

For four years he's had the freedom to be exactly who he is without the fear of damnation even if he still has the baggage that went along with the first time it happened to him. And even though Aziraphale doesn't realize it, he's asking Crowley to do something impossible for him. He's asking Crowley to admit that he needs forgiveness, and come back to heaven.

Aziraphale assumes that Crowley would not only want that, but that being with Aziraphale would make it even better. But what the angel has actually done, is give Crowley's deepest insecurity wings. And given him a reason to step away from their millennia long dance.

Because Crowley has finally, finally, finally, found something that he can't give up for Aziraphale. It's extremely poetic that that thing happens to be himself.

And okay now I’m done. I’m gonna go scream into a void.

#good omens meta #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #go 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #Aziraphale #crowley #crowley and aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow

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project-sekai-facts · 7 months

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Your recent update made me wonder about something. I don’t know how much you know about this but wanted to try asking anyway. Hopefully this makes sense? Why would the English translation choose to censor things? I assume translations are being done in America where queer things are slowly becoming more accepted but is that a factor? Are the translators themselves changing certain things due to their own biases? I don’t know who they are and don’t want to assume anything about them, but I can’t help wondering if that’s part of the reason? Or is it because of something like, for example, sometimes movies or TV shows have certain content removed based on where it’s being aired, so is it something like that? Is the game being released in regions where queer content is banned or removed? Now that I wrote it, I feel like this is the most likely answer but what do you think? I basically just rambled in your ask my bad. Also, do you know if the Korean and/or Taiwan servers have censorship too?

oh there's more than just the Asahi thing and i have mentioned it in passing before but i'll cover it properly here. "the miles i fell in love with is so cool" -> "it was so cool! i guess that's miles for you" is definitely the biggest example though.

First off, a minor thing. it doesn't really happen anymore but in the earlier translations they quite often use words other than partner, like "pals" and "buds", in the VBS story. Probably one of the best examples of this would be An and Kohane's 3rd kizuna title, which the JP name was often fan-translated as "Making each other better" or "Raising each other up", and is called "Two supportive pals" on EN. Which does have the same meaning but the "pals" seems so unneccesary when they could've used partners. The original text is Takameau futari, the first part means "to raise" or "to lift" and futari means "two people" or "a pair/couple". So it technically is a good enough translation but using pals when partners would be more accurate to canon just seems.. off.

I’m assuming their avoidance of the word partner is because it could easily be misinterpreted as romantic, but they seem to have moved on from that at this point.

There's also THE POWER OF UNITY where they switch out "love" (daisuki) for "cares about a lot" when KAITO is comparing the relationship between Arata and Souma to Akito and Toya. Daisuki literally means "likes a lot" so often you'll see people translate it as love, though likes a lot is still valid. "Cares about" is not a direct translation but definitely can still convey the same meaning, so again instance of valid localisation it just seems like an odd choice when using love would've conveyed the exact same meaning and been more true to the original.

Then you've got another instance of them not translating daisuki correctly in Dear Me, As I Was Back Then (sorry this one is a wiki screenshot my phone died). This is worse. Like I guess if you really want then it does have a close enough meaning to the original. Like I guess daisuki meaning "like a lot" or "love" could be localised as "you're the best" if you really wanted it too. But even then, the line before this is "I'm gonna show just how much I admire her!". Minori's shout of "I LOVE YOUUU" from the original would be way more fitting here. "You're the best" feels too casual and buddy-buddy - even if Minori didn't know Haruka at this point, Haruka still had a big impact on her life and imo "I love you" would be the best to use here.

There’s also this one from Walk on and on that removes one key thing. In the original, Toya says something more along the lines of “I was able to make this track because I want to continue to be a partner who can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you from now on and always”. This is a bit more similar to the Asahi incident in that they’ve restructured the sentence to make it two, adding in the thing about performing which isn’t even there originally, and replacing “korekara saki mo zutto” with “keep singing with you”. And “keep singing with you” still works, but it’s much more toned down, let’s say. You know what really is odd about this translation though? If the quote I put seems familiar, it’s because it’s also the name of Toya’s event card. Kinda odd they omitted that from the story then, huh? The thing is the translation of the card is very accurate so removing it from the story starts to seem intentional, especially when everything around it is accurately translated like with the Asahi incident. Also doing this removes the fact that the card name references the story so what the hell are you doing EN? It's the same sentence, if you can translate it correctly on the card you can translate it correctly in the story.

And I’m gonna do a massive Dude Trust Me on this one and keep it brief because I don’t have screenshots of it and couldn't find any online, but there’s another example I can think of with Rui’s spring voiceline from 2022. On EN he says "Ah Tsukasa, what a coincidence!" but on JP he says "it must be some sort of fate that we met here". Which admittedly is still pretty much the same meaning, it's just like a way more casual version of it because of course it is. EN is just generally not great at localising a lot of Rui's more poetic speech as well, so I'll let this one slide for now.

There's definitely more than this, this is just what came to mind first and I don't want to make this post too long.

These were certainly... choices. Especially with the ones that translate daisuki wrong because they do translate it correctly on other occasions, most frequently with An and Kohane. I'm assuming the reason they omitted it with the guys is because it's far harder to pass off guys saying that they love each other as platonic because societal expectations or whatever, but I'm actually surprised by the change to Dear Me because normally they're pretty good with Minori and Haruka. Like they've translated daisuki correctly for them before and leave in everything else that indicates Minori has a crush on Haruka, so why not this line?

I'm tempted to say that they just change the things that they think are too hard to safely pass off as platonic, but then again they left all of the unsubtle ship teasing in Buddy Funny Spend Time, which has a lot of focus on Minori and Haruka's relationship (and they even left in Haruka saying that Minori makes her heart tickle in her card story), so I'm genuinely not sure why they left that in but then changed one instance of Minori saying she loves Haruka which doesn't even have to be interpreted romantically. Like what is the limit here? An can say she's going on a date (with Kohane) and the WEG regulars can ask who she's been seeing, but Asahi can say he fell in love with Tsukasa's character and it gets removed. Both of them are explicitly romantic. The only thing I can think of is that An's comes from a whole card story and event, but Asahi's is one line that's easy to remove. Same with Toya saying he wants to stay with Akito forever.

In other words, it's a mess and I don't think any of what I just wrote is coherent either.

Interpret all of this however you will at the end of the day it’s all just ship tease which is up to interpretation anyway. Except the Asahi thing that was explicitly romantic that one is a censor.

Oh and as far as I know the KR and TW servers don’t do this.

#i got this one peer reviewed on both my main account and with an irl who doesn't know anything about the game.#oh because someone will probably bring up the hiraga gennai 1koma i don't consider that one a censor #that one's definitely a localisation bc barely any players would get the joke since gennai isn't well known in the EN server regions #there's a whole discussion to be had over the fact they did completely change the joke and the context which we actually have had before #it was rui's birthday post if you go through my rui tag you can find it.#asks #mod talks #apologies for the quality on this one it's 1am right now for me

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billyharringson · 5 months

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My contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race is some cute Christmasy fluff. Thank you @greyghoulclub for the introduction.

Christmas had never been all that special to Billy, even as a child. The only Christmas that he could remember with any fondness had been when he’s been eight and his parents had brought him his first surfboard, and even that was marred by the memory of Neil’s drunken rage later in the evening, the fact that he couldn’t use his present for two weeks after he got it and not because the weather was bad.

Then his mother left and any pretence at Christmas or being a ‘happy family’ disappeared. Christmas was just another day, another day where the people around him rejoiced and Billy just tried to survive. Even after Susan and Max arrived things didn’t really change, now Billy just had to watch as Max opened gifts. Any longing for presents of his own had died long ago and Max’s lingering, guilty glances did nothing but drive home that this holiday, just like everything else in his life, was not for him.

He wasn’t sure why Max seemed surprised, she’d been there for his birthday, she should already know that he wasn’t getting anything.

They moved to Hawkins and other than the weather Billy anticipated a Christmas like all the others, at least this time he had his car, he could escape before the fists started flying, before the thin veneer of the ‘perfect American family’ disappeared as it always did.

He just never factored Steve Harrington into his vision.

Billy had been smitten with the doe-eyed, floppy haired boy since day one, and had done everything in his power to dispel everyone else of the notion that he had a crush. Somehow, despite his posturing, his insults, and his generally prickly nature Steve had decided that Billy was his friend. And despite knowing that fraternising with people he genuinely liked only increased the chances of Neil finding out and turning his ire on the poor, undeserving teenager, Billy accepted his friendship.

He accepted the invitations to smoke at the quarry, to drink by the lake. The apparently constant and unspoken invitation to hang out at Steve’s place, that large empty house that just seemed to exist as the physical embodiment of Steve’s loneliness.

It was at Steve’s house where Billy’s view on Christmas changed.

They were lounging in Steve’s bedroom, still high from their last joint when Steve asked. “So, what are you doing for Christmas this year Billy?”

Billy shrugged from his spot on the floor, continuing to stare up at the popcorn ceiling. “Same as last year I guess, watch Max open her gifts and then hide in my room until Neil passes out.” Billy had been surprised initially when Steve had guessed, within one week of knowing him, just what Billy’s home life was like. But Billy quickly learnt that while Steve may not be smart in an academic sense the way that Billy was, he was very smart in an emotional one.

So, whilst Billy continued to hide behind the veneer of loud, bad boy in public, when he was with Steve, he was more honest, more himself.

“What are you doing?” He asked, anticipating an answer filled with opulence, of going to a second home in the mountains, skiing, all that stuff that rich people did.

“Same as normal as well, I guess. “Steve replied, his head turned towards the bedroom wall so that Billy had to strain to hear. “Watch whatever’s on TV and drink until I pass out.”

Billy frowned, propping himself up on his elbows. “What? You mean you’ll be here…alone?”

Billy knew that they both drank more than was good for them, that they drank for very similar reasons, just as he knew that Steve only drank to excess when he was left alone, when the echoes of his empty house got too loud.

“Yeah, mom and dad have already gone to Colorado, they’ve got a lodge there.” Steve finally looked at him, a faint blush on his cheeks that caused butterflies to explode in Billy’s stomach. “Do you…what if you came here for Christmas?” Steve asked shyly. “I can’t promise you a full Christmas dinner, but we can have a feast, the freezer is well stocked.”

“You serious?” Billy was sat up properly now, staring at his friend.

“Yeah, you think your dad would let you?”

“He wouldn’t even notice I was gone.” Billy replied, which was as good as a yes and Steve clearly understood that because his face lit up with a smile.

“In that case, you wanna come over Christmas eve then? We can put up the decorations and then we’ll have the whole of Christmas day together.”

Billy wasn’t sure what he expected when he turned up on Steve’s doorstep on Christmas eve, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, but it wasn’t the sight of Steve opening the door in a full festive getup. He had a hideous red and green sweater on that appeared to have had a fight with a tinsel factory and lost, a floppy red Santa hat perched atop his precious hair, and honest to God sunglasses in the shape of Christmas trees covering his eyes.

“Billy.” Steve crowed, having to shout slightly over the Christmas music blaring through the house. “Merry Christmas.”

“It’s not Christmas yet, pretty boy.” Billy replied with a snort, shucking his jacket and accepting the glass of sherry that Steve handed to him. “You really do go all out when you’re expecting guests.” He continued, gesturing to Steve’s getup.

Steve laughed, removing the glasses and placing them on the table. “Nah, I just wanted to see your expression when I opened the door.” He replied, tossing the hat onto the sofa and combing his fingers through his hair. “I’m keeping the jumper on though.”

“Shame.” Billy hummed before he could stop himself, flushing to the roots of his hair when he realised what he’d said. “You said we were decorating.” He said in a desperate attempt to change the subject, gesturing to the bare Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room.

“And we are.” Steve replied chipperly. “The decorations are in the garage.”

Billy grumbled but helped Steve carry the three large boxes from the garage to the living room.

“We used to have a lot more, enough for the whole house but with my parents always away for Christmas it was too much effort so it’s just the living room stuff now.” Steve explained as he opened one of the boxes and pulled out a long garland. “That one has the tree decorations in it.” He gestured to the box that Billy had just put down with his chin. “Why don’t you focus on the tree, and I’ll do the other bits?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Billy said.

They decorated to the soothing sounds of Bing Crosby, the room seeming to grow warmer and cosier as more ornaments were set out. Billy felt both giddy and completely relaxed at the same time and wondered if this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like.

If it was, he wondered if he would be able to have it every year.

He placed the golden star on the top of the tree with a contented smile, stepping down off the stool that Steve had provided for him. “There, what do…Steve?” Billy turned towards the door where Steve was hanging what was unmistakably mistletoe, and Billy felt himself flushing again.

Why had Steve brought mistletoe if it was only going to be the two of them?

He felt a brief flicker of hope in his chest that he tried desperately to suffocate. This was probably just a tradition that Steve hadn’t thought much about, either that or he’d organised a surprise Christmas eve party or something.

“What are you doing?” He asked, that little flicker growing stronger when Steve blushed.

“Putting up mistletoe?” Steve replied quietly, bashfully.

“Why?” Billy pushed, swallowing loudly when Steve held out his hand towards him, like he wanted Billy to take it. Trying not to second guess this too much Billy slipped his hand into Steve’s, allowing him to tug him into the doorway, directly beneath the mistletoe.

“Why else would people put up mistletoe?” Billy followed Steve’s gaze upwards to the little green and white plant. “To have an excuse to kiss the boy I love.”

“Steve.” Billy breathed, feeling tears pricking at the backs of his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Billy.” Steve said quietly before leaning forward and pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to Billy’s lips.

If this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like, then Billy could finally see the appeal.

“Merry Christmas, Steve.” He whispered, returning Steve’s kiss with one of his own.

(I'll post this on AO3 at some point as well)

And introducing @racketti who is next up on the list :)

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #harringrove #relay race #harringrove relay race

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pix3lplays · 11 months

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so uhmm im really love the hsr being fathers like damn i love it so much so uhm can the readers child like cuaght the hsr griefing over our death and the child comforts them? can it be the same guys from before? *virtual hug* tysm

*Virtual hug back* yes, let’s do it!!!

More Hsr men being fathers hehe

Part of this!

-Honkai Star Rail men grieving reader when their child comforts them-

Dan Heng: Dan Heng is going through your records in the archives, his child in his lap, sleeping peacefully, at first. It is late at night. Dan Heng can’t help it, rereading your files, on the fifth anniversary of your death…it brings tears to his eyes. He accidentally wakes up his kid, who looks up at him with those big eyes that look just like yours.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine,” Dan Heng reassures his child, stroking their hair a bit while he tries to stifle his tears.

“You’re crying though…”

“No, no, I’m not,” he insists, wiping his tears away and giving a warm smile to his kid. “It’s late. It’s time for bed…”

His kid yawns, protests just a little bit, before promptly falling asleep in his lap again. And he scoops them up and takes them to bed, thinking of what it’d be like to do this parenting thing with you by his side, and not alone. But it’s okay. You’re gone, he needs to accept that. He’s doing this for you, and for his kid.

Welt Yang: is looking through an old sketchbook he had started with you, looking back at your cute, amateurish doodles next to his, that you would draw when he wasn’t looking. And they had always made his day to see you’ve broken into his sketchbook to add a few additions of your own.

“You look sad, Dad,” he hears the little voice of his child, looks up. He hadn’t heard them walk in front of him. “Why are you sad?”

“Not sad, just…nostalgic,” Welt corrects. Okay. Maybe he was a little sad, and missing you. But he’d still use the word ‘nostalgic’ over sad.

“Come look with me,” is what he says, and he sits his little kid on the cushion next to him and holds out the sketchbook.

They go through the sketchbook, and the word ‘sad’ seems to grow a little bigger for him. Yeah. He was sad. He missed you so much. Missed your doodles in his sketchbooks. Wished you were here to help him raise your child. But you weren’t. And that was OK. That happens.

And to be honest, sharing your sketches with your kid was beginning to make him feel a little more relaxed.

Jing Yuan: is stressed out in his office. He’s swamped with work but all that’s on his brain is the anniversary of your death. He thought pushing through and going to work would help him get through it. Thought that it’d be better to be productive than cooped up in the house and mourning. Well, he was wrong for the first time in a while. He always did make bad judgements when it came to you…you always did distract him.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of tiny footsteps running his way. And he’s met with his kid, excitedly holding a drawing they’ve done.

The kid suddenly screeches to a halt, and Jing Yuan observed them with confusion for a second.

“Dad!? Are you crying?”

“Hm? Oh…I suppose I am…” and he wipes away his own tears, apologizing.

“What are you crying about?”

“I miss someone…”

“Who?”

“Someone dear to both of us…but let’s not worry about that, let me see that drawing of yours…”

And the issue is immediately forgotten by the child, who excitedly shows their dad their most recent creation. It’s good for him, he thinks, to have such young and precious life around him. Helps him keep his mind off the pain of losing you.

Sampo Koski: Didn’t really have a lot of time to grieve you. He was suddenly thrust into parenthood as soon as you were dead, after all…But business was slow today, and he could get home early, and spend some time thinking about his dead lover and the child you left behind for him to deal with.

He’s in the kitchen, pouring himself a drink, when his kid comes home from playing with the neighborhood kids all day. The life of a kid, even in a place like the Underworld, was just too easy, he thinks to himself bitterly, sipping at his drink.

“Dad…you…okay?” his kid asks quietly.

“Yeah…yeah just thinking.”

“You need anything?”

Was his kid always this considerate? They reminded him of you.

“No. Thank you…”

His kid smiles, gives him a thumbs up, and runs to their room. And oddly enough, Sampo feels a little better.

Gepard Landau: Gepard is looking through an old photo album he made with you, before you…passed. He’s crying. He doesn’t realize he’s crying while he looks at a photo of the two of you on your wedding day.

“Dad?” he hears. And he looks away from the photo album suddenly, and down at where his kid is.

“Yes?” he tries, trying his best to sound calm and quiet and in control, and not like he was just crying.

“Want to…play with me? It might make you feel better?” his kid suggests, holding out a stuffed animal.

“Oh, kiddo, I-” but the more he thinks about it, the better the idea sounds. “Alright. Let’s do that. It sounds fun.” He let’s his kid drag him to the floor so they can play with stuffed animals, and the pain of using you fades just a bit for the moment.

Luocha: Luocha is working. Working restlessly. He’s always working. But tonight he misses you, misses you a little more than usual tonight. He grips his necklace tight. Keeps working. When there’s a sudden knock at his door. “Father?” a little voice calls.

Luocha sighs, doesn’t realize how shaky his voice is til he replies. “Come in.”

His kid steps in, looks surprised, because their father was clearly crying and Father Never cried.

“What do you want?” Luocha asks, wiping at his eyes. His kid comes over, puts their little hands on his knee.

“Please stop crying Father…”

“I know, I’m trying…”

“It’s my bedtime.”

“Ah, so it is…want me to tuck you in?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright, fine.”

Luocha doesn’t usually tuck his kid into bed. But tonight he needed the distraction. He takes his kid to their room, tucks them into bed. The tears have stopped. He feels a little at peace, acting like a normal father, tucking his kid into bed.

You’re still on his mind of course, but at least he’s not crying over you anymore. Tears were pointless anyways, they didn’t help anything. It’s not like you were gone forever anyways. He was going to bring you back.

Blade: it’s been some time since your passing, and Blade has been resisting the need to grieve way too hard. It was unhealthy. Finally Kafka strictly told him he’d better go to your grave and get anything remaining out. And he reluctantly agreed, not aware his kid was following behind him…

He just…waits quietly at your grave, watching over it like a silent protector when he suddenly feels a tug at his pant leg. And when he looks down…lo and behold his child had followed him to the grave.

“What are you doing, Dad?” the child asks with big, innocent eyes.

“I’m…visiting…” is what he manages to say, before gesturing to your gravestone.

“Oh…” the kid says, not really understanding, but knowing that this is a quiet and serious moment. “Okay…”

And father and child keep watch quietly together over your grave, and it actually makes Blade feel a little bit better to be doing this with his kid. It’s just a Little bit more bearable.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #my writing #Dan Heng #Dan Heng x reader #Welt Yang #Welt Yang x reader #Jing Yuan #Jing Yuan x reader #Sampo Koski #Sampo Koski x reader #Gepard Landau #Gepard Landau x reader #Luocha #Luocha x reader #Blade #Blade x reader

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igglemouse · 1 month

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The sun welcomes in a new day and I welcome in another plate of apple bacon waffles into my belly. These things are so delicious that it almost makes up for Pascal having an away game and not being able to spend Love Day with him. Almost.

I step outside into a crisp morning and find myself drawn to my little garden which always brings me just a little bit of happiness, just enough to start the day.

I should clarify that not having a date for Love Day is fine, I'm sure Pascal would love to share the day with me but he can't exactly miss a game for a date. I guess just being alone right now allows my mind to linger upon the other man of my life, the now previous man of my life, Simón.

I know, I know, I should move past him completely and yet...there is likely always going to be a corner of my mind dedicated to him. I just hope he’s alright...

Just because I don't have a date this Love Day doesn't mean I plan on sitting around melting into my couch with a bowl of ice cream nearby. No, I'll be heading to the gym apparently to meet up with Marjorie.

She says whenever she's single for Love Day she spends her time at the gym. I suppose its not a bad idea although I'm not really single anymore. I guess that's something I'll have to explain to when I get there.

When I arrive I find not only Marjorie there but Sara as well. Both of them working with one of those exercise ball things and being so focused that neither of them see me walk up. I am just surprised that they know each other? I guess if they both hang out at the gym they were bound to run into the other.

My other big question is...why are they outside? It's not exactly scorching hot to be sure but hot enough to notice.

Finally Marjorie catches sight of me and waves me over casually so I head back inside and grab another one of those exercise balls because I've always wanted to use one of these things any way and I waste no time just...trying things on it? Exactly how is this a work out? I guess it’s for stretching?

While I'm busy trying to get the most out of this thing Sara and Marjorie have a conversation about diets, workouts, and fitness stuff. It's a very familiar back and forth, one that makes it clear to me that these two women are pretty good friends and its probably more likely that they've known each other for some time now. Their conversation was so amiable that it felt right to stay out of it.

I don’t stretch for long because I feel a muscle pull a little too tightly around my abdomen and figure I might be doing something wrong. I quit with no harm done, sliding my big red ball right alongside theirs, bringing a pause to their conversation and forming a makeshift circle between us. I settle into the ball, finding an unexpected comfort in it despite it not being a traditional chair.

"Is this a ummm single ladies club?" I ask them both since both of them are here with me instead of with their presumed dates.

"You tell us," Sara says. "I'm single, Marj is single, and you?"

"Ummm..." Suddenly I'm not so eager to discuss my relationship. It's barely a day old after all.

"You're here with us," Marjorie points out, a quirky curl of her lip makes me feel like this is more of a challenge which I’m far too eager to accept.

"H-he plays a game now..." Ah, I shouldn't have said that at all. Sara, who I've already mentioned seems like the gossiping type, is fully aware and has pounced before I could take it back.

"A game?" she starts. "Plays a sport, you mean?" She tries to clarify and because my simlish is broken and accented it's fair of her to do so.

"Y-yes, umm..." I might as well come out with it and clear things up. It’s not like I expect them to do anything malicious with the information, I’m just not so ready to share it I guess? "Es Pascal" I get out, not having to say more than that as its a name that draws reaction from Sara but nothing from Marjorie.

"OFC Pascal? Pascal Alcocer?" Sara asks, a little astonished. "As in, future superstar Pascal?"

"Ah, ummm, not a lot named Pascal?" I confirm, Sara has the biggest grin on her face. "You know him?"

"Yeah, she's a big soccer fan," Marjorie answers for her, humor in her tone. "It's the main thing she watches."

"First of all, it's football. Second of all, I played, for a moment, so yes, I do watch. It is the beautiful game after all."

Sara then spends some time waxing poetically about the sport which really is more of a monologue because I can tell Marjorie is no sports fan either. Sara though seems to be an expert. Eventually, the conversation comes back around to me or I should say, back to my potential relationship with Pascal.

"How did this happen any ways? This is a pretty big deal," Sara continues, finally back on subject after talking about how Pascal was a wizard in the middle of the field, about how he kept the ball on a string, and how he seemingly had eyes all around his head.

"He's juss liked me and...” shrug, I don’t know what else to say?

"Interested in having sex with you," Marjorie puts in. It's kind of a shitty thing to say but could very well be the truth. "Just be careful, you know how men like that are. He has no shortage of options most likely so..."

Sara is shaking her head. "Not Pascal, that guy is clean. Dedicated to the game, completely. I'm surprised he found time to even meet Frida, much less go around sleeping with others. To have such a light touch and control, he makes a perfect trequartista and-"

The groan of Marjorie cuts Sara off, thankfully, because I have a feeling she was going to talk about futbol for another ten minutes easily. "That might be true," Marjorie concedes. "But, he's a man before he's a soccer player. A young one and I bet he's looking to put his balls in as many nets as possible..."

I make it back home and get right back into cooking. It's something I love to do and it is also very meditative which allows me to think a little bit more about the conversation I've had with my new friends.

I don't know much about Pascal other than the things he's told me and of course he's going to tell me what he thinks I want to hear. Sara assures me that he's not that kind of man but if she's an OFC (Oasis Springs Football Club?) fan. From what I've heard of her she also seems to be a big fan of Pascal. Her opinion is likely tainted by what she wishes him to be. What he's marketed to be. It's not like she knows him, right?

Marjorie's opinions on him are a lot more realistic and grounded. Pascal might be completely dedicated to his passion but there's still time for romance. There's still time for sex. He's part of a professional team that travels all over the country, all over the world, that means more than enough time (and space) to, as Marj put it, put his balls in as many nets as possible. Relationships are built on trust and dating a man like that...

Ugh, I shouldn't be thinking about his potential body count while I'm cooking dinner rolls!

They do come out pretty well I should add!

As the day goes on I find myself simply passing time. Browsing the internet (I do have a new laptop after all) and watching TV or rather having the TV on while I play games on my phone.

Not exactly what I've had in mind for Love Day but it has not been a bad day overall.

Eventually I get the urge to get out of my house and head to a bar, the Rattlesnake, I think it is called.

I have a drink, just one this time, and throw a few darts since the place was mostly empty and I was just looking for something to do.

The weekend is coming up and I hope I'll be spending more time with Pascal and continue my now booming food stand business.

Hopefully, I do a lot better than my dart throwing ability...

Episode List - Next Episode “The Offer”

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #ts4 #Sims #Sims 4 #sims legacy #my sims #generation 1 #soot #sims of our time #frida varela #simon barrera #pascal alcocer #marjorie whipple #sara chavez

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jessequinones · 2 months

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Writing Advice: I'm so lonely

There’s a book I’m currently reading where the main character is an outsider in a village. For context, I’m talking about a dragon book where the main character is a different colour than everyone around him and also has powers unlike any other dragon. Because of this everyone (except his friends) thinks he’s weird and strange, and he believes he’ll get kicked out of the village if they know what he truly is. (Bonus points if you’d guess which book I’m talking about). Now, I’m not trying to put this one book on blast, however, this is a prevalent trope which I would like to discuss with you.

This trope is a good example of a trope which can talk about racism in society as many people, (myself included) are the outsider in their communities. I’m an American living in Australia, not uncommon, but there aren't many Americans in the area where I live. I’m also Taíno and I know I’m the only one in my area. So I get a lot of confused people, asking me where I’m from, and where I’m “really” from. I can’t control the colour of my skin. I look Puerto Rican because I want to represent my culture and doing so makes me stand out, not because I want to but because I’m literally the only Puerto Rican in my area. So when it comes to characters who deal with the “I’m so lonely” trope, I can relate because just like them, I’m also lonely. (Excluding family and friends).

The funny thing about this trope is that often times when it’s created, it’s not really used as a way to talk about racism or being a part of a minority, instead, it’s used as a quick way to feel sorrow for said character. You’ve seen this trope a million times, the outsider gets called out for being an outsider, the outsider runs away, and while gone the outsider discovers friendship, and saves the day. (Luz, from the Owl House). Then the community who banished the outsider now accepts them...but they never really learned the error of their way. Yes, they said sorry, but what if another outsider comes around? Often times the outsider forgives said community but why? They shunned the outsiders, why doesn't the outsiders stand up for themselves?

When this trope is written, you can probably take a guess at how it’ll be used depending on who's writing it. If a person of colour is the writer, chances are it’ll talk about racism. If a person who is a part of a minority creates this trope then said trope will be used as an allegory for whatever the author is a part of.

If the person is a cis white author (most likely a male) then the lonely trope is mainly used for sympathy points. More often than not, the outsider is a character who has a personality that’s not commonly seen in their community such as being an introvert around extroverts. Being a reader instead of a sports player, wanting to go on adventures while everyone else says no. You get the point. While rare, the outsider can also be an extrovert and keep messing up their community. (Luz from the Owl House)

None of these are bad examples of the “I’m so lonely” trope. Everyone has experienced feeling alone at some point. It’s a common experience so it’s a common trope.

What I want to talk about is when the trope is used, by the wrong writer. Such as going back to the book I’m currently reading, a dragon who's a different colour than the rest of his community but the author isn’t using this as a racism metaphor.

I’m white-passing, my skin is just dark enough that people will stare at me as they try and figure out where I’m from. This is sadly a common occurrence. So if you’re writing a story where a character is struggling with the same struggles I deal with, the point gets lost and I’ll have a few words.

I understand, for most writers they have no idea this is what they’ve done, however, please get some people who are either of colour or of a minority to read through your story and I guarantee, that if they experienced what I’ve gone through, they might be able to inform you of what you wrote. I don’t want you to think you’ll have to change your story, however, be mindful of how it’s coming across if it gets brought up. (I’d say if it gets brought up because this isn’t a common trope many will recognise).

If this is something which gets brought up in your story, how do you deal with it?

One thing I would like to see more of is holding the community accountable. (I’m gonna be talking about this dragon because it’s a good example). If they shun this dragon because he’s a different colour, but later accept him. Hold them accountable. Punish the community. Have them see the error of their ways. It would also help to then bring more characters (in this case dragons), of the same colour into the community afterwards.

I would also like to see the outsider finding others who came from the same community and were banished for the same reason. Have them be told this is an ongoing problem, something that needs to change.

I also want to see more frustrated outsiders. Yes, they can be scared of their community, and yes they might not fight back, but for the inner dialogue. Have them lash out. Let it be known they can’t change who they are, and are frustrated the community won’t accept them.

I also want to see if the outsider has a small group of friends in the community before they get banished, to vent their frustration at their friends. Have their friends comment on what they see, and have their friends stand up for them instead of ignoring what’s going on. Just something to say “This is a problem and we want it fixed.”

Otherwise, if the outsider, (like a dragon) who's a different colour from the rest, never brings up the struggles of what it’s like being the only one, and their friends don’t help in the situation, then you miss the point of the lonely trope you wrote.

Now I know if you’d figured out which story I’m referring to then you might say the character I keep bringing up does mention his struggles and does vent about the situation...but not in a way which is helpful for this trope.

The main dragon which I’m using as a piñata is hiding from his community because he’s afraid of what they might discover. He’s an outsider yes, but an outsider who's trying to blend in with the rest of the community. Many people who connect with outsiders, connect with them because they can’t hide. They tried to fit in and couldn’t. There’s a difference between an introvert trying to blend in with a bunch of extroverts, compared to being the only Taíno at school.

The writer pointed out the colour of this dragon being different compared to the rest of the community, but the main character is more worried about the others finding out what he is, and it feels like the colour of his scales is a gateway to discovering who he is. So for all intents and purposes, it’s as if this dragon is an introvert trying to blend in with a bunch of extroverts. Still, his scales just so happened to look different compared to everyone else’s which means this one dragon is now a part of two different lonely tropes which makes everything confusing. Ultimately the writer ends up ignoring the racism part. The point of the dragon in the book I’m reading isn’t that he’s an outsider because he can’t change who he is, it’s the fact he’s an outsider because he’s hiding from what he is.

When creating the lonely trope (if the subject isn’t because of racism or being discriminated against), it’s a good idea to figure out why they’re lonely. Do they have a dark past? Do they act differently? It’s also a good idea to figure out why they’re an outsider. Are they actively trying to avoid others, or do others hate them?

If you add in an element, such as they look different on top of everything else, then the simple lonely trope doesn’t become simple because, in the real world, many people are outsiders because they “look different”. You can’t just add that as an icing. If you’re gonna be adding it, it needs to be a part of the main ingredients.

The lonely trope is a good one, and one many can relate to, but if done wrong, it can also anger people. When creating the lonely trope, just remember to take a step back, figure out why they're lonely and go from there. If looking different has to be included and can't be taken out, then grab sensitivity readers. My normal advice is beta readers but for this trope, I believe hiring sensitivity readers might be a better choice as they can go over what works and what doesn't in better detail.

#writing #writeblr #book #books #dragon #writers on tumblr #book writing #creative writing #writer #on writing #writer stuff #writing advice #i'm so lonely #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #writers #author

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cancerian-woman · 9 months

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As someone that genuinely loved bonlena’s friendship in season one. When you compare bonlena to other girl duos in that era like Brooke/Peyton, Blair/Serena or even just comparing them to Elena/Caroline. All of these girl duos have issues. Which is normal. But, the issue is that Bonnie never gets to vocalize how Elena or Caroline hurts her directly or indirectly. She accepts these things and just goes off-screen. Bonnie very rarely blames anyone or calls anybody out she just says what she disliked. Most fans claim they’ve disliked Bonnie due to her season 1-2 personality and only find her likable due to s6. “Bonnie’s independent that’s why….” Independence doesn’t meant no one should care lol.

Caroline has the privilege to tell Elena off. She thinks Elena’s selfish? Thinks Damon is a bad influence on her? She says that. Bonnie never once does that. She doesn’t label Elena or Caroline the root of all things. When she attempts to be more reserved it only happens off-screen. When it comes to Caroline, she’s taking up for her and still too in-tuned with her own life at points to notice Bonnie’s struggles.

Bonlena can’t discuss their issues and really doesn’t anymore once Caroline fills in that space as Bonnie is pushed out the plot outside her magic. When Abby is turned, Elena wanted to go an apologize. Caroline refused it, we get the line about how Bonnie is always the one hurt but very little done on Bonnie’s thoughts after that. This also applies to how the writers wrote Elena to revolved around the Salvatore’s.

Anyways i say all of this to say I don’t get how some people can label Bonnie fans or their work just Caroline or Elena bashing when their giving her feelings and a plot that has nothing to do with Caroline or Elena. Like you don’t think there should’ve been some discussion on how her friends didn’t notice she was dead all summer? Or when Elena tried to kill her? How Caroline is often wrapped up in dating drama to notice her bestfriend having a bad day? Bonnie deserves having a voice too.

#Bonlena #This was not an anti post lol i genuinely do wish we ended up with more trio moments in the end #And that the mfg didn’t feel like supernatural coworkers…#i was watching o t h and it was that era of Brooke/Peyton fighting and arguing lol. saying how they feel….#bonnie bennett #elena gilbert #caroline forbes #tvd #the vampire diaries #Baroline #barolena

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piratefalls · 4 months

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a leverage quinn/eliot thing i'll never write that’s been sitting in my drafts for a literal year so i'm just yeeting it out into the void

okay so who the hell knows if this is in any way an original thought but i think it’s sort of accepted by fandom that quinn and eliot knew each other long before they fight in the first david job. so let’s run with that. maybe when they met eliot was fresh out of the service and trying to figure out what he was going to do with his life. private security would be the obvious choice, but he still needs the adrenaline, and a break from people giving him orders. so he becomes an independent contractor, a retrieval specialist, and on a job he runs into mr. quinn. same place, same time, but different targets, and they hit it off while digging through an old storage space. and they just keep running into each other, time and time again, and eliot gains a reputation for being the best while quinn is happy to remain in the shadows. being lesser known has its own set of benefits.

and then they hang out after a heist, and things happen, and they find themselves becoming more than friends. this goes on for the next year, maybe two, and then...then they work a job together. something they’ve never done before, for some reason. and it feels off from the beginning, but it's quinn, and eliot trusts him more than anyone in the world, so he pushes those concerns aside until he can’t. the job goes so wrong so fast, and eliot finds himself taken hostage, waking up in an old warehouse, bruised and bloody and so tired. all he has to do is survive, because quinn is coming, he just has to hang on until quinn finds him. quinn will always find him. and then quinn does find him, and he looks so guilty, so fucking sad, and it hits eliot like a kick to the stomach that he’s been sold out. eliot gets free somehow and they fight their way out, and at the end of it all, a trail of bodies behind them, they stand there and look at each other. quinn is devastated, trying to find the words, and eliot just... shakes his head and walks away. he never hears quinn quiet plea for him to wait.

in the interim eliot finds his way to moreau, the awful things he does to forget, never telling anyone why he will only work alone. after a while he realizes he either needs to get out or lose himself completely, so he gets out, spends some time with toby learning to cook, and eventually goes back to working solo. then he’s hired to do a job in LA, a one and done with a team of thieves, and he does it. what a massive miscalculation on his part, because he does not want to like these people. liking people means wanting to be around them, giving them power over you even if you don’t mean to, and he just won’t do that again. but he does. and he keeps coming back, and despite the fact that hardison never shuts up, and parker loves jumping off buildings in a way that makes him deeply concerned, and nate is a ticking time bomb, and sophie is as warm as she is a terrifyingly good liar, he finds himself building a home there, working with these four people, beating up bad guys because he's helping people.

and then sophie cons the team, and the betrayal hits twice as hard this time. but before he even finds that out, he sees a face he’s done his level best to never see again. he lets quinn beat him up a bit, lets him think he’s winning, because eliot knows quinn has always been one thing above everything else, and that’s cocky. and when eliot grunts “now that rib’s broken,” he doesn't tack on like my fucking heart the way he wants to. it’s been years, and it wouldn’t have the impact he wants it to. and then the team separates and he’s never felt so adrift in his life.

in the immediate aftermath, quinn tries to reach out, and eliot keeps changing numbers, because really quinn should have gotten the fucking hint after the first five unanswered calls. eventually eliot shoots him a text, saying that quinn needed to leave him alone, and that he would reach out when he wanted to. the calls stop after that.

three years later, eliot has to go hunting for quinn because he needs a favor. and all quinn wants in return (besides the money, of course) is for eliot to just let him explain. they can go back to not talking, but he wants eliot to know the truth.

and when the job is over, when dubenich and latimer have been dealt with and the bat cave has been deserted, quinn tells him what really happened that night. how eliot wound up in that warehouse, why the job went sideways. [there’s some kind of bribery/secret that he was just desperate enough to keep quiet that he’d sell eliot out] and the price was that quinn had to turn eliot over. he tried, tried so hard to think of a way to get them all out of it alive, and they were almost home free and everything went so wrong so fast and he couldn’t think fast enough. and then eliot walked away never knowing that had the right amount of pressure not been applied to the exact right spot, quinn never would have put eliot within 100 miles of that job because even though they never said it in so many words, quinn had loved him and he knows eliot loved him too.

and so eliot takes a few days to think while everyone else scatters to parts unknown but this time with the full understanding that they’ll all eventually be reunited. eliot thinks, and thinks, and eventually texts quinn and invites him out. they can start with a beer.

#leverage #kelly watches leverage #quinn/eliot #is there even an audience for this pairing anymore lmaoooo #eliot spencer #mr. quinn

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yourfandomfriend · 11 months

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Something liberals do not (and might never) understand about modern reactionaries, particularly the alt-right, is that they straight up don’t care about anyone but their own team, whatever that may be. Which means that pointing out the reality of the cruel things they do has literally no effect on them. Doesn’t matter why they do it, telling them-- showing them it’s wrong won’t stop them.

In fact, stopping them and telling them what they’ve done to hurt people and showing them how upset you are is just going to make them want to do it more. Like schoolyard bullies, despite the fact that their bullying gets people killed. Showing them how effective they are at causing pain is antithetical.

And we’re so used to the idea of logical fallacies, of it being wrong and bad to attack who a person is, rather than their argument. But anyone who goes out of their way to endanger someone for being different is being an asshole on purpose. That’s not an argument based on logic, that’s an emotional act of aggression.

But because of the way the left has embraced emotions and identity, the far right therefore style themselves as coldly logical and realistic. So the reaction that pisses them off more than anything is to point out where they’re being emotional. Don’t accept their frame of argument, but do use it to destroy them.

Because, truth be told, some of these people are never going to care about anything but their own little world. You can’t appeal to the humanity of a person who thinks everyone unlike themselves isn’t human. You can’t change their mind or bring them around with logic from a position they arrived at emotionally.

Sometimes, you’ve just gotta laugh at their dick till they run away.

#random thoughts #superman did it to the kkk...

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stephobrien · 3 months

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I’m coming from my vent account because I don’t want to get found out as a Jew on my main. Please, please stop posting in the antisemitism tag. You’re clogging it up and taking away a safe space for Jews by trying to delegitimise Jew hatred. Now, I don’t know if you’re good faith or not, but I’m leaning on no. You keep on going onto posts about Jew hatred from Jews, saying what boils down to ‘wow! I’ve learned so much from this!’ and then you go back to posting inflammatory things again. I mean, you posted something from Caitlin Johnstone, I can’t believe that you give a single shit about Jews (or Ukrainians) after that

As for your most recent post on how poor you just can’t believe lying Jews when we talk about discrimination because you’re scared we’re deceiving you, you put in a comment ‘If I'd seen said Arab nations' governments massacring thousands of civilians, while painting every single criticism of said massacre as Islamophobic, yes, I would have’. This is… I don’t even know how to tackle this, do you genuinely not know all of the horrific shit so many of the Arab states have done? Qatar is known as one of the biggest countries of modern slavery. The Houthis in Yemen sex traffic Ethiopian women, and also reintroduced slavery into Yemen. Just look at the atrocities so many of these countries have committed against Shia Muslims! Is your brain mush, how can you say this when there is so, so much evidence of the horrors that these nations have committed?! And if you think these states graciously accept criticism of those horrors… you’re being ignorant on purpose. And it’s still not okay to say that you don’t believe an Arab when they talk about anti Arab racism that they’ve experienced, I think we can at least agree on that. So why’s it not the same for Jews?

For a more personal example to Jews, look up the Mizrachi expulsion. The Arab states violently expelled almost a million Jews from their countries ‘because Israel’, which they only care about because it ruined their dream of pan Arabism, not because of any solidarity with the Arabs in the mandate btw. My family was lucky, we came from Iran, which is not Arab, so the violence was coming from the people rather than the state itself. But I’ve had to heard accounts from people talking about how they watched their family get shot in the head while their homes were repossessed for no reason other than the fact they were Jews. Is that bad enough for you? Does it even make a dent in your image of the Arab states? Or is it okay because it happened to Jews?

I know I sound very angry in this, and that’s because I am very angry. And that anger is completely justified! My life, and the lives of almost every Jew on this disgusting website, have been beyond horrible for five months. The number of times I’ve had to read about a new Jew hating shooting or stabbing in the world is too many too count. And then, non Jews like you decide to play the ‘oops, I just caaaan’t believe those Jews about Jew hatred because they could be zionists!’ (Which are around eighty percent of the Jewish population, but I don’t think you’re ready for that conversation yet, it’s reserved for people who actually want to learn). All of us are so unimaginably angry. All of us are at our fucking breaking point, or we’ve completely snapped already! The people you have interacted with have been some of the kindest, most levelheaded people here, but you’d better not get used to it, because we’re all tired of this bullshit

Thank you for taking the time to call me out. Between you and the several other people who contacted me about this, I’ve come to realize that that post was a terrible mistake.

It was meant to be a vent post about people who deliberately blur the lines around what’s actually antisemitism, and about my lack of certainty about my own ability to independently assess the less obvious instances of that (which is clearly still very lacking, as the response to that post made clear to me).

But it apparently caught a lot of innocent Jews in the crossfire, making them feel unsafe, unheard, and delegitimized. That wasn’t the intention, but it was clearly the effect. I screwed up badly, and I’m sorry.

I admittedly don’t know all the details about the horrific shit Arab nations have done. I was aware of Iraq’s government mass murdering protesters, and Saudi Arabia’s horrifically sexist laws, but some of the info you shared in this post is stuff I hadn’t previously heard of.

As for why I mentioned false accusations of antisemitism specifically, it’s because that’s the one I’ve seen several times a day lately, sometimes in the form of stuff like telling people who protest child murder that “You just don’t like it when Jews defend themselves.”

That said, you and the other people who responded have made it clear to me that that focus was based on an overly narrow view on my part. I’ve been more active in pro-Palestine circles than in circles that focus on the other situations you mentioned, so naturally that resulted in me seeing more antisemitism accusations than accusations focused on groups that aren’t directly involved in that conflict. So that resulted in a less than balanced viewpoint.

While my vent post was meant to be about one specific phenomenon I’d personally seen a lot of, the fact that I didn’t mention similar behavior on the part of groups I hadn’t personally seen as much of that behavior from did result in it being unjustly targeted, in a way I didn’t intend but should’ve assessed better.

What happened to you and other Jews at the hands of Arab nations (and pretty much every nation) was absolutely not okay. The effect my post had on you and other Jews who saw it was not okay. The treatment you’ve endured on Tumblr is not okay. And I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.

You have every right to be angry at me. I won’t ask you to forgive me or trust me, because I know I earned your anger with that poorly thought out post. I shouldn’t have made my own insecurities and frustrations other people’s problem like that. I screwed up badly, and I’m sorry.

#long post #I can be a dumbass sometimes #but I'm woman enough to admit when I screwed up #and this time I definitely did

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