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rainylana · 2 days

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“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate version!

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: this is a new version of my old series i wrote last year. so many people have asked to see more of how eddie deals with such a horrible thing happening to the reader, so here we go, this is for you!

warnings: PLEASE READ! this is purposely written, in the beginning, as fast paced. i was trying to establish a sense of anxiety and fear while writing it because of how quickly it happened. the assault happens differently and does not go into much detail this chapter, but will during the next. i purposely switched povs because i still wanted to give insight to the reader. so with that being said, warnings for this fic include: rape, blood and bruises, broken bones, hospitalization, language, smoking of weed, trauma and shock, lots of tears and angst. please, please, let me know what you thought and if there’s anything i need to go about differently. it’s been a year since i’ve properly revisited this series. i feel like this version will be much darker and will take more of a toll. let me know your thoughts and if anything needs changed. i never spellcheck lol. this one’s for all of us. i see you and feel you. much love, lana.

Steve Harrington’s parties were the kind that were talked about for weeks on end. The music, the food, the house. It was a mansion, and there had been many of times were you and Eddie had slept in multiple rooms of that house, unbeknownst to the owners knowledge.

This party was no different. Bodies were on bodies, beer was spilled and the pool was splashing every drop of water out into the flower bed, that was no covered in trash. There was a basketball court that entertained the jocks. It was an absolute mansion.

You were somewhere. Eddie would see you from time to time getting more beer or a snack, coming over to check on him. He closed his eyes, taking a long drag and leaned against the wall. “Shit, this shit is good.” He coughed slightly, letting his arms fall at his sides, black sleeves pulled up at his elbows.

You found him eventually, hair slightly wet from being splashed at the pool, a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Most everyone was wearing their bathing suits. You smiled when you sat down beside him, laughing at the redness of his eyes. “Feelin good, Eddie?” You tapped his chin.

He grinned at you goofily. “Shit, is the shit, babe. Wanna try?” He offered it to you.

You plopped down on your ass and sat beside him, saying hi to all the others that joined the circle. You laid your head on his shoulder. “Sure you don’t want to come swim with me, Ed? It feels good. Moons out, too. It could be romantic.”

“I give you plenty of romance, darlin’.” He said through hooded eyes, armed laid lazily around your wet shoulders. “Damn, your tits are out!” He exclaimed, finally realizing you had changed, eyes bulging for dramatics.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “My tits are not out. Everyone is wearing them! You picked it out, don’t you remember?”

“Baby, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember much of anything right now.” He was practically drooling at the mouth, giggling like a child and floating off into space.

“Uh, huh.” You gave him a look before turning to the rest of the group. “He’s cut off.”

He was too stoned to realize what you had said, curling up in himself and lulling his head against the wall, eyes drooping closed.

“Eddie, Eddie, oh, okay,” You sighed, watching as he fell asleep. “I’m serious, Gareth, make sure he doesn’t do anything else. I got to carry this guy home, you know.”

You sat with Eddie for almost an hour, making sure he was alright. He always was. He always got tired when he smoked weed, you did too, but not near as much as he did. You gave him a kiss on the cheek, telling everyone else you’d be back and that you were going to change your clothes.

You went to the same room you always did, walked up the same steps and same corridor, the air cool against the exposure of your wet skin. Nobody was upstairs. You had planned for a quick change and nothing more, but you hadn’t any idea what was waiting for you behind the door, or the fact you were being followed.

•

Eddie was in and out of it, waking up here and there if someone spoke loudly enough. Dustin kept laughing, about what, he didn’t know or care. He just wanted to sleep. Later on he would realize that it was probably an act of God that he heard you, because there was no scientific explanation for it. He shouldn’t have heard you.

The music was booming loud, playing a hit from Blondie over the speakers. People were chugging beers, getting high and fucking out in the shed outside, the bedrooms above. The lights were flashing on and off, mixtures of colors painting the walls, their bodies. There was no way he could of heard you, yet he did.

He felt as if he were dreaming at first. His eyes were still closed, body numb from the awkward position he was in. It felt like a loud thumping at first, like something had hit the floor. Then a crash, something had broke. Then a high pitched noise, someone had screamed. It had to have been a dream, because he swore it was you.

Eddies eyes peeled open slowly, foggy and clouded from his high, but he didn’t feel so good anymore, and was left with a chill up his spine. He looked to the right of him to find you gone. “Gareth?” His voice was gravely and deep. “Where’d y/n go?”

Gareth pointed up the stairs quickly, eager to get back to his conversation with Robin about her thoughts on the new Back to the Future movie. Eddie had pushed himself up and found the stairs. It was a mansion, having had to climb four sets of stairs before he could find the hallway. Each set he could hear it clearer. He still shouldn’t have. The music was too loud. He could feel the vibrations underneath his feet against the wood flooring.

He walked quicker and quicker, the sounds of crashing, screaming, begging, becoming louder and louder. Soon, he heard his own name, and he knew it was you. He was running then, as fast as he could to find you. And when he did, the last door on the left, the same room you both had slept in many of times, he was brought to pure horror.

•

You weren’t entirely sure what was happening. Well, you did. You had been raped. You were just confused what was happening now. You were sitting up, staring blankly at the floor. Eddie was down at your feet, saying something, saying a lot of things, actually, but you couldn’t hear him. It sounded like he was underwater. Your ears were ringing, and he kept dabbing his hand under your nose. Were you bleeding?

Your hands were vibrating, along with the other parts of your body, shaking like you were having a seizure. Surely you’d pass out soon. Everything you felt was heightened. The pain, the emotion, or lack of. You soon realized you were going into shock.

You felt everything, yet nothing, all at the same time.

•

Four seconds.

It had taken four seconds for Eddie to react. Four seconds for him to decide what to do. He’d found you bent over the bed, hands pinned above your head and legs split apart. The man above you, twice your size, twice his size, a man he’d never seen before, raping you. It had taken him four seconds to react.

The man above you had stopped when Eddie had come in, staring at him in the act with a look of surprise and shock. Eddie lunged then, knocking the man over and into a side table that crumbled under their weight, a string of punches and curses, the sound of choking and items breaking. There was so much noise, but you didn’t hear any of it. You laid there, bent over, legs spread, a mixture of blood and semen seeping out of you as you stared straight ahead, fixated on the painting in front of you.

Steve and his mom at the beach.

You didn’t hear the sound of Eddie’s cry of pain when your attacker punched the wind out of him, you didn’t hear him run out of the room or Eddie’s footsteps after him, halting halfway and returning back to you. You kept thinking of Steve and his mom. She was so sweet. You really should spend more time with her.

All of that, led to now.

“Baby, baby, please, please, say something!” He panicked, knelt down at your legs, holding your arms to keep you upright, “Oh, God,” He took another look at your legs, covered in blood. “Oh, my god, Oh, my god.” He covered his mouth briefly, not knowing what to do. “Okay, okay,” He jumped up, running to the joining bathroom to grab a towel. “Okay, baby, I got this, see?” He started quickly wiping away at the blood, switching his eyes from his legs to you.

It looked like you’d been killed, or were dying. You said nothing, deathly pale, face stained with tears and mascara, deep bruising that painted your cheeks and eyes purple. Your lip was busted and bleeding. You were shaking with tremors, your breath coming out in little pants that were uneven. You were choking on your sobs, not a single one being allowed out. It hurt to sit, the pain in your abdomen was almost unbearable.

Eddie didn’t realize it himself, but he was also going in to shock. It became harder and harder to get the blood off of you due to his shaky hands, and his breathing become more sporadic and choppy. “I’m getting it, honey. I’m trying.” He said, words coming out in a rush. The towel was stained red when he’d finished, your legs still coated, stained by the blood from inside of you. He looked you over, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n,” He gasped, reaching up to grab your face. “Talk to me. Are you hurt? Where does it hurt at?”

You couldn’t look at him. It felt impossible. Your eyes were so heavy. His voice still sounded as if he were underwater, his movements slow, like he was fighting off a current, and you suddenly became freezing, trembling harder like you were out in the snow. Maybe it was the shock.

“Honey, please,” Eddie begged you, eyes tearing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

When he noticed how hard you were shaking, he jumped up and got a blanket from the chair, wrapping it around your body and sitting next to you. “Okay, here, I’m here. Steve!” His scream snapped you out of it, making you gasp and jump.

“No!” Your voice was hoarse, burning as you screamed. “No!” You tried to stand but you collapsed, pointing to the door. “Close the door! Close the door!”

Your urgency made him obey quickly, and he was slamming the door and locking it within a second. “Y/n-”

“You can’t tell anyone!” You sobbed, wobbling on your legs. You were a sight, one that would traumatize him for the rest of his life. “No one, swear it! Let’s just go home!” You we’re a wreck, sobbing, hyperventilating, shaking. Surely you would faint.

“Angel, baby,” He tried to approach you, but you freaked.

“No!” You jumped away. “Don’t- don’t touch me, please!” Was the room getting darker?

“Okay, okay,” He held up his hands, heart racing and bulging, fearful eyes. “I won’t touch you. I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded, mouth opening and closing, feet shuffling, limping, trying to stay upright. Surely, you would faint.

•

His elbows are on his knees, hands pressed against his mouth. The chair he’s in is uncomfortable, an ache in his back that matches the one in his heart. Wayne is there, sitting across from him on the other side of the room. Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin are outside in the waiting room, along with the rest of hellfire. He tried to be discreet. Well no, that wasn’t true. When you’d fainted, Eddie lost it.

He’d swooped you up in his arms, carrying you down stairs, a sobbing mess, looking anywhere for anyone, to help. He found Mike first, then Chrissy Cunningham. The party was over very quickly.

“Eddie.” Wayne said tiredly, wearing a puffed, flannel coat. “Why don’t you go home, bud? I’ll stay with her.”

“No.” He didn’t miss a beat. He was staring a hole right through you, eyes so tearful they looked to be made of glass. “I can’t leave her.”

Wayne knew he wouldn’t leave. It was four in the morning, and you hadn’t shown any signs of life. If it weren’t for the machines, Eddie was sure you would have been dead. You were so quiet, not a stir, not a twitch. Were you dreaming? Was it good or a nightmare?

“She’s alright, buddy. You know that.” Wayne could see the telltale signs of his panic attack coming on. “You heard what the doctor said.”

You had abrasions along your vaginal walls. Your nose was broken, now covered with gauze and medical tape. You had two broken ribs, bruises covering your entire body. The doctor had asked him questions he didn’t know the answer to. Eddie knew what had happened, but what had really happened?

You would be okay. He knew that. You were alive and you survived. But were you okay? What would you become when you woke up? You would be totally traumatized, or would you simply move on with life? He knew the answer and he hated himself for knowing it. He knew the pain you were going to suffer when you woke up. He saw it. He saw what it was you would have to endure. A part of him wished you would sleep peacefully forever.

It felt like every vital organ inside of him had been ripped apart, like his stomach had been cut and everything spilled out. He’d thrown up twice since they got to the hospital. It been hours since you both got there. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d saw. Your body being used, abused by a man who had beaten you up, raped you, split you open and left bloody.

“Oh, god, Wayne.” Eddie broke down in sobs, shoulders sinking and face hiding into his hands for a shield, a mask to hide from the world. “This is all my fault.”

The image of you had scared his brain, the mental image something he thought he’d never be able to erase. Through everything he had gone through, this moment here, was the worst moment he had ever lived through, and he himself, would make a deal with god if he could, just to take your place, to take it all away. The love of his life was in pain, and it caused him more hurt than he could have ever imagined.

His uncle looked at him, saddened and distraught for the both of you. “Don’t say that, Eddie. You know she’d hate to hear you say somethin’ like that.”

Eddie’s body shook with heavy, deep and broken cries. “It is. I was asleep. I was asleep and stoned out of my mind while she was being raped right above me!” He practically spat the words with a venomous hatred, throwing out his arm as he looked at you longingly. “I failed her. Her, of all people. I fuckin’ failed the one thing I care about most. How the hell am I supposed to live with this?”

Wayne watched him stare at you, stare at you and cry like he was mourning for the entire world, like you had been taken from him.

“How are we supposed to be okay after this, Wayne?” He looked like a little boy then, looking over to his uncle with big, brown eyes. “How can I…how can she ever forgive me?” Another sob, and another. Wayne was sat beside him now, holding his shoulders as Eddie cried.

“You two have been through hell together.” The old man said, on hand on his nephews new. “You’ll get through this. She will and you will. She stood by your side when you were dying, remember? She helped you through it. It did you both in, but you got through it, didn’t you?

He didn’t answer, but he heard his uncle loud and clear. He didn’t know how he’d do it, but he’d help you in every way he could. He owed it to you. You’d patched him up, held him through nightmares and insecurities about his scars. You fed him, helped clothed him and helped him keep himself clean when he was still too sore to move around. You had put your own life on pause for him. He owed it to you to do the same. In his eyes, it was his own fault it happened, anyways.

“Yeah.” Eddie sniffled, wiping away his tears with his jacket. “Yeah, I- you’re right. You’re right. I can help her. I’ll help her. She’ll be okay.”

“She’ll be okay.” Wayne assured him.

He didn’t realize just how hard it was going to be, how a giant rift in your relationship would almost separate the two of you. That the both of you would be forever changed from that night.

Eddie gulped, blinking back tears as he looked at the steady beating of your heart in the vital screen. “She’ll be okay.”

#eddie munson #i will always take care of you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female character #female reader

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lostplotbunniesbg3 · 1 day

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Welcome to the BG3 Plot Bunny Rehoming Centre!

Got a plot idea that you don't have time to write? Looking for new ideas for fics and one shots? You've come to the right place!

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Use the ask box to submit your plot bunny ideas - anonymously if you prefer! - and they will be added to the blog!

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Choose any plot bunnies that appeal to you from the blog and comment on them to let people know you're working on them, then once your fic is written reblog the original post with your fic or the link to it!

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It really is that simple! If you have ideas you don't have the time to write you can send them here to find a home, or if you're looking for a new and fun idea to work on this can be a fun place to find which one calls to you!

More Details Below! Rules, Submission Guidelines, and Submission Format

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I draw the line at NSFW content containing minors or characters who only appear in the source material as minors. Pairings must also pass the Harkness Test - creatures must be able to communicate in a way all participants can understand clear consent, they must have enough intelligence and sentience to understand clear consent, and they must be at or over the minimum age of consent for their species. No sexual pairings are to contain characters who are blood related, with the exception of Sorn/Nym Orlith who may be in a situation with multiple other partners but as they state in game they will not interact with each other, nor will they be with only one other partner.

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#baldurs gate 3 #fanfic prompts #writing ideas #plot bunnies #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 smut

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dariwrites03 · 9 hours

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Fucked up Monday. 2/3

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday

A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!

Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?

Warnings: none? I think?

Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)

-5700k words

„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.

You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.

„Wait.." you said, sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.

„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.

You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now

The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.

But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself.

It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her.

Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.

Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.

Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper. You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper. It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship? Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five.

Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.

You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected. "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.

"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.

"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".

After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.

But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.

You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.

Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.

Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood. But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil. "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.

One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.

You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.

Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.

The day with Sophia didnt end there, it stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.

But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.

After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.

Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up. Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore.

"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.

"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff ''You can meet sophia and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.

You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.

"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.

"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.

"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.

You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’

"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."

''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.

I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”

The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know. But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.

The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.

The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.

''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying''

The words cut deeper than a knife,

before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:

"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.

Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.

Why are you with her?

I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,

so the anger inside of me when I see you with her

is something I'm not allowed to feel.

What I feel, I shouldn't show you.

So when you're around, I don't.

I let you walk away with her.

I know I don't have the right to feel it,

but it doesn't mean I don't."

The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.

Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.

Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue. Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.

In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.

——————————————————-

"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“

"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.

"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation

"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.

Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.

In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie." His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.

"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.

"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.

Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.

Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?

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thevulturesquadron · 24 hours

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Hello! If you don't mind answering, what are your thoughts on Rogue only mentioning Gambit during E.7 ? It felt weird after all these episodes and exploration of their relationship.

Ahoy there! 🛸

Well... I try not to put too much thought into it. Overall Bright Eyes felt like a moment of transition towards the finale (with an absolute kick-ass Rogue). I am happy they had an episode that showcased a part of what Rogue was going through after Genosha, because, as Amelia Vogh said - 'a survivor is the last thing I’d wanna be.’ So Rogue has a lot to process: the guilt and grief over losing Gambit, the uncertainty and anxiety around Magneto and well, the death of so many people around her. Remember what Magneto said? “We shall not live our days wondering if we could’ve saved more.” Rogue is doing just that - and it's hell.

About Rogue focusing just on Gambit - it makes sense. She held his body in her arms. That moment is with her probably every time she closes her eyes. The way I see it, there are two reasons why the focus has been only on expressing her feelings for Remy.

1. It might be just the way it is. Rogue and Gambit will always be 'the couple'. More so for TAS. They are one of the most well-known and popular Marvel couples so, after the drama was done, the writers needed to pull that ship back on course. It was always going to be like that and I'll be here for the ride. Not everything in media has to be written to match my preferences. Plus, the show has kept both of them in character and written them exceptionally well so far. Especially with Gambit, I am grateful for the care they put into portraying him, because in comics it's such a mess, depending on who's writing him. So I am expecting the focus to be on Rogue and Gambit from now on.

2. The other reasoning (from a media literacy perspective), and the one I prefer - is that she's processing. It might turn out to be true or it might not - the show will tell us. But at this moment it does look like that. Grief, guilt, shock. First of all, in Magneto's case, there was no body. The rule is until the search is called off, if there is no body, there is no death confirmation. So Rogue is struggling to accept it. What she knows is that Remy is dead - that is a reality she cannot avoid and it consumes her. On the other hand she was refusing to face the possibility that Erik was also gone. Then Kurt made it real. In the privacy of that moment between them he said what she wasn't allowing herself to think or accept: that she lost more than one person she cared about. Secondly, also why it makes that moment with Kurt so much more heavy, is that no one else in the team knows of the emotional connection she has with Erik. Everyone who knew the depths (Gambit and, in parts, Madelyne) are dead. I don't think Rogue can voice her grief in front of the rest without an explanation. She can however channel it through Gambit’s loss. What is worse is that her feelings for Gambit are now intertwined with a lot of guilt, and she probably feels like she has failed him in particular. And it breaks my heart. I don’t think that’s fair towards her and I am not particularly a fan of that, but X-men has often times put drama ahead of character development.

So is it the first one? Is it the second one? Who knows, maybe it’s a bit of column A, a bit of column B. But there is one thing that I would have liked the episode to show more of: I wanted to see Rogue processing what it meant for her to survive Genosha, to survive the genocide. I care more about that, about her humanity, her struggles and convictions, unrelated to the romantic aspects. Romance is not the ultimate form of love, and it doesn’t have to be the most intense display of love either.

#rogue #gambit #remy lebeau #magneto #erik lehnsherr #rogneto #romy #x men #x men ‘97 #x men 97 #x men 97 spoilers #anna marie #anna marie adler #texpost #marvel #just thoughts #still a firm believer that what's happening with magneto is far crueler than death

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cripplecharacters · 15 hours

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Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.

Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.

Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.

I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.

One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)

While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.

Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).

Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)

I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.

I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)

I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?

Hello,

before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.

You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange. If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.

Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?

Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.

Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.

So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.

If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.

To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.

If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.

Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.

If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...

Actual Answers! Hooray

what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?

Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.

Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.

I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.

The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.

Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.

I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.

This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.

In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.

The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.

If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!

mod Sasza

[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #disfiguremisia #tw ableism #long post

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muwapsturniolo · 2 days

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✯𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬✯

IN WHICH... i explain my fav songs of the month and how they match with the triplets.

WARNINGS: sex is briefly talked about but its nothing really.

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐆𝐎 ☆ 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐈 𝐅𝐓 𝐉𝐓

I want to start by saying why this is one of my fav songs at the moment. I love Doechii THE BITCH ALWAYS SERVES CUNTTTTTTTT!!!!! this song just does sum to me, it makes me want to go to the ballroom and vouge and do five death drops in a row! the beat, the lyrics, THE MUSIC VIDEO! it reminds me sm of Azelia Banks (that hoe so problematic it's not even funny anymore) and i love it!

now on to why i think this song is perfect for nick

an alter ego is basically a persons second face/persona that we don't see until it's time for it to come out. and one thing i think a lot of people in this fandom forgets is that WE DON'T KNOW THEM! we as viewers have this image of them in our head based off of what they let us see through a screen, and nick doesn't let us forget that. he has stated many times that most of our opinions are wrong (them not being friends with people, la vs Boston debate etc.) and i think that's important.

I'm not saying nick has an alter ego or is two faced,but he is a leo man and them mfs headstrong! and that's what this song breathes!!! it gives a headstrong bad bitch that nobody can say shit to!!! THAT IS NICK!!! NICK ALWAYS PUTTING US AND OTHERS IN PLACE AND ITS NEEDED!!!

"NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH THESE HOES AINT PHASIN ME. NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH BOO BOO BITCH YOU DEAD TO ME" nick does not let this fandom phase him fr. he does wtf he wanna do when he wanna do it. of course he loves us and appreciates us, but he not with our bull shit!!

"UNFAZED UNBOTHERED UNFUCKWITHABLE BITCH, WHY BOTHER?" a lot of people like to sit up here and run they mouth saying nick is so bothered, and he cares too much about what people think. LIE!!!!! YALL JUST DONT UNDERSTAND HIM!!! HES UNFAZED WITH THE BULL SHIT, IT DON'T BOTHER HIM FR!!! HE FINDS THE SHIT FUNNY! HE LIKE MAKING YALL TALK ABOUT HIM BUT HE DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YALL START WITH HIM AND HIS FAMILY IN THE FIRST PLACE.

"IM THE PROBLEM, IM THE VILLIAN. I DONT SEE THESE HOES IN THESE RICK SHEILDS, THROWIN DIRT ON MY NAME AND HE GON HIT STILL!" people love to make nick the villain when he isn't!!! some people fr never had somebody tell them how it is and they just run with the narrative that someone is being mean when they not!!! he not being mean, he keeping it a buck fifty with yall!!! and tbh he don't care if yall see as the villain cuz why? he still got more money than us and we never gon be on his level fr.

@thenickgirl had to let ppl know to stop messing with him!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐈'𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 ☆ 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

i want to say this before i start. BEYONCE PUT HER WHOLE MF COOCHIE INTO COWBOY CARTER OMFGGGG!!!! IM SECRECTLY A WHORE FOR COUNTRY MUSIC SO I REALLY FEEL LIKE SHE MADE THIS ALBUM FOR ME!!!

OK LET'S GET INTO IT NO DOJA!

this description is going to be a bit different from Nick's and Chris's because I'm focusing more on the vibe of the song. the whole premise of this song (in my opinion) is two lovers just loving on each other! idk why i get big Matt vibes from this song😭 maybe because i love the idea of Cowboy Matt (before anyone say anything I'm making a Cowboy Matt series! it's already being written!) and yeah i don't have to say much more on that topic.

like yall know when Matt be smiling and giggling at his phone in car videos? i could already imagine his girlfriend sending him a pic of her ass in the new jeans and he just-

lemme stop before i write a whole separate fic for this song.

"YOU CALL ME PRETTY LITTLE THING, AND I LOVE TO TURN HIM ON." matt would deff call his girl a pretty little thing. she would be blushing and kicking her feet an ion blame her!!! and i too would love to turn him on!!

"BOY ILL LET YOU BE MY LEVI JEANS SO YOU CAN HUG THAT ASS ALL DAY LONG" matt would not resist looking at his gf ass and he would deff walk with his hand in her back pocket!!

"SO HOP OUT THE PHONE AND BRING THAT SHIT ON 'CAUSE IM GOING NOSEDIVE" matt the munch. pussy drunk. hurry tf up and bring your ass to him cause he bout to eat you out for hours!!!

thank you for coming to my ted talk on why Cowboy Matt is my fav and i need Matt eating me out ASAP!!!

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒

I PROMISE IM NOT ONE OF THE FANS WHO LOVES SKIES CUZ OF CHRIS!!! I WAS LISTENING TO SKIES WHEN LIFE OF A DARK ROSE DROPPED!! i truly loves skies cuz his music just takes me back to the era of SoundCloud and i was actually happy lmao.

onto the topic.

now, i didn't pick this song cuz chris loves skies, i picked it cuz i feel like to a certain degree, it matches chris perfectly!!! lust doesn't have to mean sex, it could be towards money, adrenaline, etc.

Although Skies does talk about sex in this song, i think he's saying that he's lusting after money and the adrenaline that comes with fame and success, but he's lacking the love that was once there and he's lusting for love as well.

i think that relates to chris's whole being. he's constantly spitting out ideas and created his own brand to chase the bag, chase his dreams. i lowkey like to believe chris is an adrenaline junky. not in a sense of jumping off cliffs or anything, more in a sense of just doing stupid shit like fighting with his brothers and suggesting crazy plans.

idk if my description of this makes any sense i just can't put it into words so imma do the lyrics and try to explain further.

"GET IN MY WAY AND TRY TO BLOCK ME IMMA SHOW AGRESSION" this could be towards a person or himself. I'm not saying chris is money hungry, he's just about his bag. he wouldn't like for anyone, including himself to get in the way of making his dreams come true and if they do, i think he gets a bit hostile. it could be him cutting them off, or simply just distancing himself for a bit. if it's himself i think that's when he gets sad and beats himself up. he said it in a few videos that he becomes hard on himself, or he gets sad before bed and i think that's why.

"GOT NO REGRETS, I MADE MISTAKES, BUT I LEARNED FROM MY LESSONS" this lyrics speaks volumes for chris!!!! i feel like it was said by him that he doesn't regret things he's done in the past or experienced, but he's glad he's learned from them. i think all of them are big on "life's a lesson, learn from it." he doesn't dwell too much on the past, it's done and all he can do is move past it and learn to not make the same mistake with people or opportunities.

"DON'T BE ACTING STARSTRUCKED EVERYTIME THEY SHOW YOU LOVE." this could be towards friendships or relationships. it's no secret LA is full of fake people but it's honestly everyone at this point in time. i think chris realized that at some point. just because people smile in your face and act nice don't mean the friendship/relationship is real. people always want something, and its not always love, it could be sex, money, and or fame. it doesn't surprise him anymore. i think that's why he stick to who and what he knows, especially in the relationship sense.

i think imma do this every month, this was fun lmao. tell me what yall fav songs are atm!!!

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n

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tulipsinthedas · 2 days

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Just finished binging the Fallout tv show and 🤯 I've got so many thoughts running through this little brain of mine. So here's a very long rant no one asked for. Maybe I'll make a more digestible version later. Obviously SPOILERS AHEAD!!! Be warned!

First off - the lore. So many interesting things were added into the lore by this show that I find so fascinating, as well as theories I've had that were touched upon. All of which makes this very exciting but also leaves me DESPERATE for season two. The main thing that has really stuck with me is the confirmation that Vault-Tec were the ones to drop the bombs like hello??? I've always had an inkling ever since I started delving into fallout lore a good year or two ago that they were behind everything, but finally having it confirmed is so fun. Of course, some people out there are going to be irritated (L take) but this imo will make replays so much more interesting. Same with the addition of ghouls needing medication to keep from becoming feral. Although this begs some questions; what is the medicine? Is it just radaway, or something else entirely? Maybe it's connected to whatever Hancock used to ghoulify himself? Or maybe it's connected to Doctor Barrows' research into ghouls fom Fallout 3? Idk! But I hope it's answered in season 2.

Cooper being the inspiration behind the iconic vault boy mascot absolutely gagged me. It was kinda hinted at even in the beginning at the kids birthday party but I was still surprised. Pleasantly, of course. Other smaller things, like the BOS branding and helmets opening up, among other things, were also fun touches that develop the lore in ways that the games probably never would have. It's small things like this that despite livening up the wasteland, would be unnecessary uses of resources from a game-development standpoint. So I think if season 2 ends up being a banger like season 1, we could see a lot more tiny additions to the lore like this!

Secondly - the characters. I don't even know where to start. They were written so well which is such a critical part of a good series. Lucy, despite everything she goes through, stays true to her morals and by doing so, probably unknowingly, is changing those around her. Despite being stubborn, she's willing to listen and understand other viewpoints and adapt herself. It's so refreshing to see a main female lead who isn't written as either weak and naive or strong and boneheaded; she'd a perfect mix of both. I also appreciate them not making her a total push over, even in the beginning before she is given any reason to change. She grows, but never fails to stay true to herself. Plus the whole sex positive thing is an amazing touch to add as well, especially for a woman.

And while on this topic, Maximus is such a cutie pie. Writing characters that are selflessly aligned can definitely be a hit or miss, and without properly being fleshed out, can be one-dimensional, but I never felt that way with him. Despite trying to help others and be a good person, he still has flaws and does feels selfish things. They took the trope of the knight in shining armor, literally, and gave him actual human characteristics that made him feel real. Underneath his heroic demeanor, he's just a little guy who likes slippers and vault popcorn. Who just wants to be somewhere safe away from war and danger, to be where he can just relax and not have to worry. And his romance arc with Lucy is just way too cute. From the moment they met in Filly I knew something was going to happen and I was so excited when they finally kissed lmao. The sweet, innocent love at first sight thing they have going on is the perfect dichotomy to all the bloodshed and heavy themes going on in the rest of the show.

And finally, Cooper is reviving the inner ghoul lover in me and I cannot complain at all. As a certified Hancock lover, I feel seen ✋ also Walton Goggins is just incredibly fine. But that's besides the point. His character is arguably the best written because despite being an undeniably evil person, he is still likeable. 200 years have turned him into a man who had to lose his humanity to survive, and the pre-war flashbacks being shown through his eyes give him, and the story, so much depth. Despite his ways, you can't help but still feel for him, to still root for him and hope that he still has a little bit of that humanity left within him. Which imo was shown multiple times; for example him not killing Maximus in episode two even though he easily could have done so. And the fact that he's still searching for his family all these years later? When he was asked what has been keeping him going so long, I think they are his reason. Whether he is searching to reunite or to exact revenge on Barb for dropping the bombs while him and Janey were outside idk. But it makes his story all the more heartbreaking. I also love the writing for Norm, Moldaver, Dane, and so many others, but this is already too long ass it is.

Overall, this series was so good and I'll be impatiently awaiting season 2! Some things I'm hoping to see next seasons are super mutants for sure, as well as synths and more of the enclave. I think they went easy this season to test the waters and see just how interested people are. And now that they know people are very interested, I think they'll be more willing to invest a larger budget, and add more. Rant over!

#fallout #fallout show #fallout series #fallout prime #fallout tv series #cooper howard #lucy maclean #maximus fallout #fallout series spoilers #fallout spoilers #fallout amazon #fallout ghoul

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booyakabanga · 3 days

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I had an idea for a cool Levi x Reader story, where Reader is an engineer/mechanic of some sorts trying to improve or replicate the ODM gear and comes into contact with the survey corps. There she is made to watch and train with Levi, cuz duh he is the best with the gear, so she can improve the performance and quality etc.

She is also under the protection of Levi because no one knows of her talent (because only a select few people actually know how the gear works and it’d be super weird having to explain why this random young woman knows so much of the ODM gear) and Erwin the maniac gambled on her and believes she could help humanity’s fight against the Titans with her knowledge.

Her background is idk.

She could be from the underground trying to make her life easier by recreating the gear so she could complete her heist/robberies easier. If from the underground I guess she‘d be almost completely self thought.

She is from above ground, even grew up fairly privileged but just has an infatuation with anything mechanical/engineered. Parents/mom doesn’t but dad just dotes on daughter and lets her do whatever, don’t approve of that and want her to be proper and ‚ladylike‘. To not raise any suspicions she acts just like that in front of her parents but sneaks out whenever she can and meets this old lady who owns a repair shop of some sorts and learns everything from her.

It could be a enemies to friends to lovers, cuz who doesn’t love that shit, with a slow burn, lots of angst and fluff.

Reader is obviously also a natural with the gear because she understands how the mechanisms work on a crazy detailed level but also has personalized ODM Gear she salvaged from wherever (she stole it from the MP‘s/maybe the old lady gave her a broken one) that she fixed up to suit her style of fighting.

I don’t know that‘s all I can think of for now. If you guys have any ideas just add to it. I have never written a fanfiction so this‘ll probably just stay like this but if anyone wants to actually write this, you have my full permission please just tag me or send a link so I can read it too ;)

#levi aot #levi ackerman #aot #attack on titan #levi x reader #fic prompt #story prompt #x reader #levi attack on titan #Levi

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rashoumon-homo · 2 days

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Rant ahead, prolly gonna delete later

TW: gender dysphoria, fetishization of trans men in fanfiction

Idk if it’s just me but I’m a trans guy who typically won’t touch “trans male [character]” smut fics with a ten foot pole. I’ve found a handful that are respectfully written, but for the most part they make me feel so fucking uncomfortable. It’s like the (non-trans) writers don’t see trans men as real men. There’s frequent untagged feminization, excessively feminine terms, and an alarming number of pregnancy fics. I get that some people like these things, and I respect that, but that’s pretty much ALL that’s out there. It’s like they want to write for a m/m ship but only want to write m/f smut, so they slap “trans” on there. It’s so blatantly obvious that the majority of these writers have never done a drop of research on what it means to be trans masc, much less MET a trans masc person irl.

Not only that, complaining about it makes YOU the bad guy. I made a post on the AO3 subreddit back when I first joined it (aka before I knew better) just kind of venting about the way trans characters are written in fics. I was a lot more gentle and understanding about it than I’m being here btw. And instantly the post got flooded with comments saying that “just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean other people don’t.” Or “my roommate’s boyfriend’s brother is trans and he doesn’t care about that stuff.” Or that people are free to write whatever they want and if I don’t like it I shouldn’t be reading it. (My favorite one was “I’m cis but I don’t see an issue”) I ended up deleting the post.

Back in February there was this fic I read that did all that same shit and it pissed me off. Untagged feminization, afab language, the whole shebang. And I KNOW that author wouldn’t have treated the character that way if they were writing a cis man. For legal reasons, this comment was not written by me, but it was deleted by the author right away with no response.

I blocked them and moved on.

I guess what brought all these emotions back was a post I saw where someone was complaining about other cultures being written in an accidentally offensive way in fics. The same people who tore down my post (and others like it) were suddenly all into the idea of respecting the cultures you write, doing research on them, etc. How is trans culture any different? Why is it “um actually some trans guys like being feminized” but then “these cultural stereotypes are offensive and the author should do better?”

Not too long ago, I decided to start writing trans characters in fics. It was really tough for me, since I had to battle a lot of my own dysphoria, but I felt like it was worth it if it meant there was just one more fic out there to make trans people feel seen and respected. Being seen as a real man and being trans should not be mutually exclusive. It’s possible to be both. And it’s painfully obvious when the writer doesn’t see it like that.

If you’re trans and you feel the same way about all this, lmk. Sometimes I feel like I really am the unreasonable one and that I’m all alone here and it really fucks with my head.

And if you’re cis and wanting to write trans characters, I implore you to learn about us first. Trans people are not a shortcut to writing m/f smut. They have their own unique experience of the world that needs to be taken into account if you’re going to write them respectfully. Listen to trans voices. Please.

#rant #trans character #trans #transmasc #fanfic rant #gender dysphoria #tw dysphoria #transgender #trans man #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd fics #ao3 subreddit

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starrcrossrose · 2 days

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hi! first of all I just wanted to say I've read all of your works and they are literally my fav rottmnt fics to exist :) second, do you know any good leosagi fics?

WAAAHHHH thank you so much! I have so much more I want to write and SOOOO many one shots just. Sitting in my drive 🤣 maybe I’ll post some to the public someday~. I’m currently working on an update for V!Leo AU too so I hope you look forward to that! Thank you so so so much for reading, it means the world to me that people like anything I write 🥹

Also YES YES LEOSAGI FICS. I don’t know like too many bc I’m very very picky, but I have two specifically that I love so much I keep coming back to them. They live in my head rent free~

Give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around by Taizi (I have reread this fic a horrendous amount of times but I just really love how it’s written; also it’s complete)

So In Love And Yet Nothing To Talk About by rosesofenvy (the visuals! The ideas! Soulmates! Augh! I loved this one so very much it was creative and excellent. Also complete!)

I have read some other ones that I also enjoyed tho too so I’ll put those below.

no refunds by bobtheacorn (this one is incomplete but I loved the honest approach to the big feelings first love can have at a younger age. I don’t know how else to describe it other than me reading it and going “oh yes that’s so similar to things I felt when I was that age and liking someone who liked me back” but it CAN get a little heavy at points. Most specifically in the last updated chapter so do with that what you will) They have a collection, actually, for these two so I’ll plop that here as well

When Worlds Collide by celestiangel (this one was very cute, I enjoyed it! It is also complete.

That’s all I have rn. There are a few others I’ve opened up to read but just haven’t started yet, alas. I’ve been writing a lot for myself instead xD Hope you like these!

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #Starr Speaks #ask #answer #fanfic recs #leosagi

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mrsbsmooth · 18 hours

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I’ve been so turned off by what fusebox has been putting out lately that I haven’t even opened the app in a year or so, but I’m glad that people seem to be liking s8 so far!

I’m super curious to know how you would rank it against past seasons and what your thoughts are overall ❤️

RANK? YOU WANT ME TO RANK THEM

hjeslafhajsdkfgsdj

omg okay. way to make my night. I'm supposed to be writing. Let's fucking gooooooo.

[Noting based on my recent post, this is my ranking for if you're pursuing a male LI. WLW rankings would be very different].

So, to me, I think there are two main criteria that define a season: Love Interests and Gameplay.

Love Interests can be further broken down into:

Sprite Design: How good they look overall as a cast. Are they proportionate? Unique?

Variety: How different/unique are they to previous seasons? Are they all models and carpenters and finance bros?

Fandom Impact: This one is silly and subjective. Are people still talking about them years later? Do they have fanfics and art? If you don't know this person, are you missing out?

Gameplay can be further broken down into:

Quality of Plot Drama: How it's written, how impactful it is. Is it stupid manufactured shit, or is it important and moves the game along? (Cherrygate? Great drama. Suresh wanting to 'give Lulu a chance' after he'd been all in for us? Shitty, awful drama).

Challenges: Are they engaging and interesting? Do they move the plot along?

Replayability: Are there enough unique aspects in the routes that you feel the need to replay?

So, based on these two criteria, I assigned rankings to each season, with Season 2 being the best that fusebox can possibly do. (We already know that it is).

These are completely subjective, but this is what I came up with.

Some brief explanations:

Season 1:

Not the best art style, but overall the proportions were spot on, the body shapes and types were different and unique. Personalities top tier (Tim? Jake? sigh.) Cherrygate, dunking challenge etc.

Season 2:

The best the fandom can do in terms of consistent art style, poses, challenges and replayability. Every route is unique. Characters are overhwhelmingly gorgeous. Some may not like the drama, but I think it's just enough.

Season 3:

I thought things were ranked too high but then remember Tai? Rafi? AJ? The waterfall date, the water balloon and tent challenges that meant something and caused drama?

Season 4:

Lost points for the NaJamUno character merge, but gained points for Youcef and Oliver. Great characters, poor challenges and drama points. Dylangate was dumb and so was making us sleep on the daybeds.

Season 5:

The less said the better. But the sprites were hot af.

Season 6:

The great character merge was atrocious. But the drama from Casa, the Marshall&Ozzy plotline, and HAMISH oh my god, he gets a bonus point for drama all on his own.

Season 7:

Personally very forgettable season. Some of the sprites were lovely. Evan was a highlight and he's gorgeous. But given how quickly everyone forgot about this season, it's loowww.

Season 8:

Gets a high ranking for fandom impact purely based on the immense amount of art and interest that's come about this season. Even with up to a half-point deduction to account for recency bias, this season ranks highly.

This gives us an updated ranking of:

Third? THIRD? Season 8 is THIRD?!?!?

This gives us an average season rating of 6.4. We could remove the outliers, but we're trying to plot how good each season is against the average, so let's not. If we then plotted this and threw in a bar to show the average:

It says the only seasons that are 'above average' are Seasons 1, 2, and 8. Which, honestly, given my adoration for Bruno, Ciaran, and Lewie, rude. How dare I hurt myself with my own chart!!!!!

I'm sure one of the maths people could do something statistically significant and make this fully mathematically valid, but this is just me latching on to a silly ask and being an idiot about it.

I like S8 a lot. It's worth playing.

In other words:

Yes. Play it.

#litg #love island the game #love island game #litg s8 #litg tempting fate

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sweetbrier2908 · 8 months

Text

who fell first, who fell harder?

Mammon

He fell first and he fell harder.

He is completely in love with you.

He is crazy for you.

He is deeply in love with you.

He is head over heels for you.

He will do anything for you, and it means anything. Nothing can stop him from being with you. You're his angel, his guiding light, his only love, his first, his human. You're his everything. He couldn't think of one thing he can't stand about you (maybe just the fact that you're always so close with his brothers). He wants to be with you for the rest of his life and he hopes you want the same.

He was always so insecure, it was not like he cared about what his brothers and strangers say about him, it was not like those words were going to affect him schemes anyway - what he cared was what you will think about him after hearing those words. but you lay next to him every night and tell him how kind he is, how decent he is, how much Lucifer trusts him, how much his brothers love him despite their rude words, how great he is to you, how much you love him. Just like that, you chase his insecurity away.

He was always so scared that he couldn't be with you the moment you need him the most, that he couldn't be the one who SAVE you. he had failed once and twice, he doesn't want it to happen thrice. He had slipped and could have not been the one who protected you from Levi's anger, he had not realized and couldn't protect you from being hurt by Belphie.

Who is he if not the first one to protect you when he is supposed to look after you?

Little does he know, you love him the same, you love him as much as he loves you and you would do anything for him. He is your first demon and he will be your first and only lover. He is your guardian demon (even when he always believe that he himself of all demons doesn’t deserve to be your guardian demon, just him wait, you will prove to him that he’s so wrong) and you love him desperately as he does. You will defend him no matter what it takes, you believe in him because you know, from the moment you belong to each other, he will never betray you. You believe in him, because he’s kind, he’s full of love - for his brothers, for the angels who he always complains about, for the Devildom's Prince and his butler, for the world which they casted him out thousands years ago, for the mortal world you belong to, for you. You love him and you want him to feel that he is loved and trusted by you; you love him and you want him to realize how amazing he is, how great he is - things that he always says but never believe himself. You love it when he flustered while confessing, you love how awkward he is with kisses and hugs and affection, you love it when he will never leave your side, you love it when he said that now he's only greedy for your love.

Little does he know, you also fell for him as hard as he did.

Little does he know, you fell for him (maybe) the exact moment he fell for you.

Little does he know, you fell for him when he talked to you about the little girl in human world.

Little does he know, you are completely in love with him.

Little does he know, you are crazy for him.

Little does he know, you are deeply in love with him.

Little does he know, you are head over heels for him.

You will do anything for him, and it means anything. Nothing can stop you from being with him.

Nothing can stop you two being together.

Not even Lucifer, not even his younger brothers, not even Diavolo or his butler, not even the angels, not even the most powerful human, not even Father.

Not even him. Not even you.

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kizunarae · 22 days

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a mismatched mess: a fitz and molly essay

In my re-read of ROTE, I am struck again by the profound mismatch between Fitz and Molly. Neither complements the other, and their relationship is fraught with tension and incompatibility. However, what really compels me to write this is what seems to be the prevailing sentiment within the fandom that places the blame squarely on Fitz’s shoulders. I believe that this perspective is an oversimplification and rather unfair to Fitz. The demise of their relationship was not unilaterally caused by Fitz; rather, it was a shared unraveling.

I will be focusing solely on events up to the end of Royal Assassin, avoiding spoilers for subsequent books. I will put it under a read more as it will be long...

I want to disclaimer that while I may appear fairly critical of Molly's behavior, I do not think she did anything particularly wrong and do believe her emotions and reactions are largely justified. It is just precisely because of who she is (and who Fitz is) that I believe they are a bad match. Additionally, I think Fitz's wrongs have been hashed out extensively so I will only briefly touch on points I disagree with and not elaborate overmuch on his failures in their relationship.

I will begin with their first reunion in Royal Assassin. Fitz has just returned to the Keep after being on his deathbed for several months. Each person he encounters barely recognizes him through his wasted and sickly appearance. Fitz, embarrassed by his weakness, pulls a foolish move: he claims to be drunk when a passing serving girl—none other than Molly—crosses his path. His attempt to save face and avoid interaction turns futile. And yet, despite the evidence that Fitz is clearly sickly in appearance, Molly's first reaction is not concern. It is not to hear his side of the story nor to find out how he has been, nor consider anything that he may have gone through. Instead, she is focused only on her own experiences, and her own feelings and thus responds only with pure outrage and begins firing off accusations with misplaced anger.

Without basis, she accuses him of courting her and then abandoning her. I think many take this claim at face value, because "Fitz should have known what he was doing" (as Patience also intoned). However, let's consider the books have established a three-year age gap between Fitz and Molly. Thus, in Assassin's Apprentice, Fitz would have been begun "courting" Molly at around the age of 13-15 while Molly was 16-18. Even without viewing this through a modern lens, this claim feels like a stretch to me. Imagine expecting a young boy, barely schooled in social norms, to understand that strolling through town with a childhood friend equals courtship. No words or actions passed between them that indicated anything more than friendship. I believe Patience's scolding and instructions were fitting and commendable. However, Molly’s internalization of this narrative against Fitz seems misplaced and unfair, given her knowledge of their shared history and relationship.

Then, after he shares his concern for her about what he saw in his dream. She accuses him of purposely scheming and attempting to deceive her; that he must have heard her whole story in the tavern and is just making fun of her. This is again a very unfair characterization for her to place on Fitz; nothing she knows about him should indicate that he would do something like this at her expense.

She has a right to be upset that Fitz kept his true identity from her. But he also had a right to do so. She gave him no grace and despite his apparent weakened state, she did not allow him to give any explanations. Worse, because of how Fitz is, he immediately accepts her view of the situation and berates himself for not realizing the courtship, despite having had no tools of his own to recognize that. This pattern continues throughout their relationship.

And this, in essence, is what makes Fitz and Molly such a toxic pair. She accuses him of things he does not intend or cannot change, and he, like a sponge, absorbs them as truth, eroding his own perspective and identity. And on the other side, I believe Molly deserves someone who will challenge her. Someone to stretch her boundaries, broaden her horizons. A companion who could wholeheartedly dedicate their life to a family and business together in partnership. Because, while not necessarily a flaw, she has blinders on and focuses largely on her personal happiness and fulfillment. She does not want to bother with thinking of the realm, the raiders or the help other families may need. This is a chasm between her and Fitz, whose heart bleeds for his people's misfortune and feels a duty to his station and Kings. Instead of embracing and appreciating Fitz's compassionate heart and will to make the Six Duchies a better place, she frequently berates him and minimizes his feelings by accusing him of only being a mere king's pawn unable to think and choose for himself.

Especially as readers, we know this isn't the whole truth. We’ve witnessed Fitz’s tears for a dead child cradled in his arms, felt the fire of vengeance burning within him against the raiders. Molly has not, and yet, it does not seem she cares to know. To each of Fitz's explanations, she complains and argues. While we only get the taste of a few of these encounters, Fitz comments that it is a frequent topic of contention between them.

Molly wants Fitz to fit into her mold and she wants what makes her happy to be what makes him happy. She longs for the days when Fitz was only Newboy. She says she just doesn't understand the things he tells her, and yet I feel this is the same "not understanding" that Fitz employs with the Fool; in fact, it is very much understood, it is just not what they want to acknowledge as truth. Because Fitz is not Newboy, and because she subconsciously blames Fitz for not being Newboy, she thus does not put in effort to know and accept Fitz for who he is. I do not consider her calling Fitz as Newboy throughout Royal Assassin a simple nickname; to me it speaks of Molly desperately trying to reverse time and put Fitz back in the box she liked him best in.

I think exactly how little Molly knows Fitz is further illustrated by the Nighteyes-as-Fitz scene. It is a weird and, in some ways, humorous scene, but what struck me is how Molly appears to know Fitz so poorly that she did not sense anything amiss about an intimate encounter with a literal wolf in Fitz-clothing.

Returning to Fitz's identity and 'lies' throughout their relationship, I personally do not believe that Fitz owed her the truth of his identity from the beginning. It was a deeply personal matter and I believe it was not wrong for him to keep it private. As a young boy, he felt his status as a bastard was deeply shameful, and it is no wonder he would not share it. In my opinion, he would have a duty to disclose if he had truly begun to court her, however he was never given this chance.

So, did he continue to lie after his identity was revealed to her? I do not believe so. He shares much with her about what he does, and about Verity and King Shrewd. It is not a question to me that he would not be able to disclose every detail of what he knows; his knowledge of his kingdom's affairs and his identity as an assassin are not entirely his secrets to share. There are surely modern equivalents of this as well. It is hardly unusual to be unable to share some portions of one's work with one's partner. However, Molly deems this as unacceptable and unforgiveable, despite her lack of interest in what he does— a further inherent incompatibility in their relationship. Instead of offering understanding and support for the isolation that Fitz must feel for being in such a position with his Kings, she resents him for things he has no real power to change. Keep in mind if he had left the Kings' protection at the time, his life would surely have been threatened as Chivalry's was lost. Molly should be able to understand this, and yet she cannot see past her current unhappiness.

In her time at the Keep, Molly also puts a large amount of pressure on Fitz. She is out of her element, she has had a traumatic experience, she knows no one at court. And so, she often complains to Fitz that he doesn't spend more time with her. In a very unhealthy way, she attempts to force him to be everything for her at the Keep— her only social outlet, her support, her protector. Due to this, her resentment for Fitz and his choices grows with every moment he is not with her, and she spends much of their time together asking him to turn away from who and what he is to start a life together.

In the end, both hold the other up as idealized versions one could never hope to fulfil; Molly wants Fitz without his royalty or passion for his people. Fitz yearns for Molly, stripped of independence, her self-driven, entrepreneurial nature tucked away. In their relationship, they offer only moments of fleeting comfort punctuated by feelings of sadness and blame. They cannot fulfill each other's expectations. Molly is unable to bolster Fitz's confidence in himself and the peace and acceptance he desperately craves remain elusive. And likewise, Fitz cannot offer Molly purpose or allow her the sense of security she desires under which to prosper her business and family.

And so, these two are ill-matched and ill-fated, clinging through each other to the last vestiges of a childhood they wish they did not have to leave behind.

#i do like her as a character #im just am confounded people see it as a true romance #she never really does anything for fitz?#and he only is with her for what she represents to him imo #i also have a lot of feelings about neurodivergence #and everyone just expecting fitz to Know Things #maybe i will write about that another time #i think generally people really cut molly too much slack throughout royal assassin #she was lonely and traumatized and wanted fitz to be her everything #she didn't want to be a servant #she wanted him to go help her start her livelihood again #all very understandable #but not healthy or romantic imo...#kizuna rereads #rote #realm of the elderlings #assassin's apprentice #royal assassin #fitzchivalry farseer #i won't tag this as molly #since it is critical #also be nice to me #i haven't written something like this in a long time #i also have quotes to support my conclusions but i didn't include bc it was unwieldly and unpleasant to read

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