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eitaababe · 1 year

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Hiiii can i make a request for a possessive neteyam 🥹 i need one where he x reader argue, and he says something hurtful because he’s jealous and reader goes to leave the hut to cool off because she’s hurt but he makes it up to her ;) WINK WINK maybe a little touch of a begging neteyam as well hehe

Dirty filthy nasty talk as well sorry I’m done now LMAO

SOMEONE ELSE !

a/n — hi love! sorry i don't really feel comfortable writing smut with neteyam (or anyone lmao) just yet 😭 so i just made it a lil suggestive at the end i hope that's ok!! / also since the end is suggestive and implied to lead to something neteyam's aged up cause he's a minor and that would be awk🧍‍♂️

—

To say you and Neteyam were inseparable was practically an understatement. Ever since you'd met as kids, you always stuck together. You were there for each other when you got your ikrans, even, and you'd always go on rides together. A dynamic duo, people liked to call you.

So of course, when his family left the clan for the safety of everyone, you couldn't just let your mate leave you. So with some convincing and promising that the Sully's would take you in as their own, your parents reluctantly agreed, deciding you could choose your own future.

Though you missed the forrest, being by the ocean was something you'd never experienced before, and it was one of the most beautiful sights you've ever seen. There were so many creatures and the people were different in many ways, you were excited to learn about everything.

However, you grew less and less thrilled when you realized the time you spent with Neteyam would diminish to very little. He was always out and about, getting to ride his ilu and protecting his siblings from those in the village who looked down upon them. He was always so stressed, so tired, that when you did hang out, you always felt like a burden, or an argument would start.

So you started to keep your distance, and as a result, met new people and made new friends. You started to enjoy the presence of a boy named Rotxo, who was allegedly one of Ao'nung's friends. You were skeptic at first, not hearing so good things about his friend, but the more you got to know him, he became a trustworthy friend. He heard all about your struggles with Neteyam, always a good listener and giving good advice.

Although, Neteyam didn't see you and Rotxo's relarionship as anything friendly. In fact, whenever he spotted you two, he could be sulking for the rest of the day. Granted, it was his fault you two haven't been talking as much, and he could probably just have talked to you about it. But he didn't know how, and as a result, you'd found another person to fill his company.

Was he really that easy to replace?

Finally having enough, Neteyam wordlessly grabbed your arm, dragging you away mid-conversation with Rotxo. He ignored your protests and took to a secluded area, stopping only to be met with a harsh glare.

"What the hell, Neteyam?" You shouted, crossing your arms. Yikes. He didn't think that one through. "What's your problem? I was talking to him!"

"Well maybe I don't want you talking to him!"

"Why?" You inquired, annoyed at his antics. "You don't get to decide who I can and can't talk to. I'm my own person. Plus he's my friend. And he's been better company than you, as of late."

His heart dropped at the blow, knowing you were right. "It just makes me uncomfortable, okay? I don't like him being close to you."

"Oh, you don't like someone else enjoying my company? Sorry Neteyam, but I'm not going to wait around alone and close myself off from everyone else just because you refuse to talk to me! I happen to enjoy talking to Rotxo, and there's nothing you can do that will stop me."

"Fine then," he snapped, jealousy overcoming him. "Go! Go be with Rotxo. See if I care," he paused, sinking his fingers into the palms of his fists and unable to stop himself from digging an even bigger whole. "I have others who want my company. There's many metkayina women who would enjoy my presence."

Offended that he would say such a thing, you scoffed, not recognizing the man standing in front of you. "Fine then! Go be with another woman!"

"I will!" He responded without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on your face.

"I never want to see you again." You seethed, eyes glossy as you walked hastily away from him, leaving a regretful Neteyam.

The days that passed by all felt like a blur, your heart throbbing. Did he really mean that? Was he tired of you? Were you making a mistake when you decided to follow him and his family? Rotxo listened to all your worries, comforting you and helping you avoid Neteyam at all costs.

He kept looking for you, wanting a chance to apologize. He wishes he had just kept his mouth shut, or went after you once you walked away. The scene replayed in his head constantly, thinking of what he could've done different to make you not hate him.

So he waited until after eclipse, and when everyone else went to bed, he went out to the beach, knowing you would be there. You always enjoyed the solitude of nighttime, when nobody else was awake and you could watch the waves peacefully on your own.

Neteyam slowly made his way up to you, awkwardly clearing his throat to grab your attention. When you actually turned around and focused on him he was shocked, wide eyed and speechless. "Um, hi."

"Hi." you curtly responded, ready to leave when he grabbed your hand.

"Please, y/n. I want to apologize." He pleaded.

You gave him a look, as if saying to get on with it. He hesitated, not completely sure what to say. "I'm...i'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I was jealous that you were spending more time with Rotxo."

You stayed silent still, making him nervous. "And I don't want another woman," he added, looking you dead in the eye. "I wouldn't dream of it. You are the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. You are kind, sweet, loyal, and have been nothing but the best for me. I took that for granted, so when I saw you enjoying the company of another, it pissed me off. I cannot stand the thought of you being with someone who isn't me." he stopped, and you noticed his eyes starting to glimmer in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry. Truly. And if you don't forgive me I understand." Neteyam finally finished, his chest rising up and down shakily.

"Oh, ma Neteyam," you cooed, taking his face in your hands. You wiped away the tears that fell down his face with your thumbs, kissing where they fell. "I could never want anyone other than you. I just need you to talk to me next time, okay? No more keeping your problems from me. I'm here to help you with your burdens, not hide them."

The boy nodded wordlessly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I promise, my love. I will never make you feel like I want someone else again."

He then trailed kisses down your jaw, lips softly moving over the skin of your neck. His teeth grazed over it, biting lightly. He chuckled from the soft sound that left your throat, kisses drifting down below your neck. He pressed you against a tree, knee separating your legs.

"Neteyam, not here." You breathed out, not making any attempt to stop him. But, you really didn't want to get caught by anyone in a public area like this.

"Shh, my love," he soothed, hands wafting towards your loincloth. "I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?"

Oh, you were in for a long night.

—

a/n — i literally had no idea how to write the ending i'm sorry if it's bad 🧍‍♂️

#avatar x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neteyam #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #avatar fluff #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #— requests !#— answered

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whats-a-human · 11 months

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Advice on deconverting:

The anger is REAL. If you aren't pissed off already, then you'll probably be eventually with the shit they taught you/what happened to you. And you're ALLOWED to feel that way, but PLEASE PRIORITIZE YOUR SAFETY. Try not to get into arguments. The anger will dimish with time, especially if you focus on good, healing things. Don't downplay or run away from your anger, but shift your focus from bad people to yourself and your allies.

THE FEAR IS ALSO REAL. It's a normal reaction to show up during confrontations and sermons, so notice it but don't let it control your decisions. Especially when you go through a difficult situation... going back to god may be tempting, but eventually you'll never even remember him during hard times lol

BUILD A SAFETY NET!!! Irl friends, online spaces, everything you can find to help you!!!

You'll have to learn to leave so many things and people behind. It hurts, but I promise it'll get better beyond the wall. And refrain from "saving" others: they'll never deconvert against their will.

Even if you still believe in the supernatural, give it a break and learn to accept a non-magical reality. I'm not saying you should be an atheist but it's so important to be at peace with the idea of permanent death, human-made morality, an indifferent universe and such. These ideas were extremely liberating for me, but I know they're worrisome for some. You gotta build your new worldview based on objectivity first

So, it's so important not to overwhelm yourself. Your journey is like a tower, built one brick at a time.

Knowledge is your friend, and especially the same type you may have avoided before. I'm talking of evolution, debunking theist arguments, the history of christianity, other religions, demonology, etc. I like the YT channels of Genetically Modified Skeptic, Forrest Valkai, Professor Dave Explains, Religion for Breakfast, Esoterica, and Aron Ra's series on Noah's Ark. Aaand you'll find more good ones along the way!

Healing from religious trauma is like any other kind of trauma: lots of ups and downs, you may relapse, have breakdowns, and you're bound to make mistakes too. In my case, I was already pretty far in my recovery from mental illnesses before deconverting, and so I employed tactics like the safety net in this situation and although I made mistakes too, I mostly felt at ease. I also recognized and dealt with religious trauma still inside the religion, but I only notice now that I could only FULLY heal from its effects outside the church.

Wish you the best

#ex fundamentalist #ex evangelical #ex fundie #ex christian #exvangelical #exvie #ex catholic #this has been sitting in my drafts #deconversion

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daught3rofyahweh · 2 months

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Ways to Build a Relationship With God ♱

~ Pray

~ Tell Him about your day

~ Ask Him for advice

~ Ask Him to give you a sign that he is listening (plants, animals, etc.)

~ Start a journal (this is a great way to reflect on your relationship with Him and talk about the feelings you feel towards Him. You could also write about your plans to build a better relationship with Him.)

~ Light a candle dedicated to Him (if you don't have an religious candle, it'd probably be best to state that it's for him just so he is aware :) )

~ Build an altar for Him

~ Read the bible to understand His story

~ Carry crystals that remind you of Him

~ Perform a spell for Him

~ Ask angels to help you better connect with Him (in my opinion, archangel Gabriel seems to be the best option for this because he loves teaching me how to have better faith!)

~ Talk to your friends/family about Him (if they are open to it of course, remember it's never nice to force your beliefs on others!)

~ Do kind acts as offerings to Him (helping people in need, do chores around the house, include people who are left out, take care of animals in and outside of your home, do some babysitting, show His creation respect by cleaning up litter, work on your mental health to prove you want to be better for Him, etc.)

~ Listen to worship music (don't worry if fancy church music isn't your thing, there are a bunch of artists who make fun up beat worship songs! Altar by Hulvey/Forrest Frank is a great one)

~ Light incense

~ Make art for Him

~ Wear cross/religious jewlery

~ Wear a veil

#folk catholicism #catholic witch #christian witch #godlovesyou #catholic #god #jesuschrist #witchcraft #witchy

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cursedcola · 2 years

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Prompt: What would they do to celebrate your birthday? Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Octavinelle, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasmonia You're Here: Diasmonia! A/N: Yup. I definetly went over board. Do I regret it? Not at all. I will preach Diasmonia 'found family,' supremacy until I die.

Malleus Draconia

The longer he spends with humanity, the more Malleus realizes just how different man is from fae. In biology, in morality, in social structure, and in tradition. A prime example being birthday celebrations.

The fae see many more anniversaries than humans. Celebrations are typically reserved for children as they hit milestones in development, but after some decades the shine of life begins to fade. The day blends in with all the others on the calendar, until it’s relevancy has dwindled to a mere recognition. ‘Ah, another year gone by,’ being a fleeting thought as the day passes.

Malleus being a prince makes him an exception, since he is celebrated by many fae every year. Yet not in the way he’s witnessed at NRC. When his peers age, there is always a boisterous gathering. One full of laughter, games, food, and jubilation. A stark contrast to the regal dinners that he is used to attending.

He has never been invited personally. He is not offended, per-say, yet he does watch at a distance. He witnesses humans celebrate life as if it is a gift to cherish.

A short life, yet one well lived. Malleus begins to understand humanity’s philosophical take on how, “life is bittersweet”.

Which leads him to a dilemma. How should he go about celebrating your birthday? If a large party was being thrown, then he had not received any invitation. Yet, he is not satisfied with letting the day pass by as many fae do. Spontaneous partying is not for him either, as he does not feel comfortable celebrating you living as if it could have been your last year.

Needless to say, your birthday is a serious matter to Malleus. It makes him recognize your mortality, and the cultural differences that divide you both. So, he turns to Lilia for advice. On both philosophy and regarding your celebration.

After a discussion full of sarcastic quips and riddles, Malleus chooses to blend the traditions of humanity and fae. In the daytime you can enjoy your party with friends, and in the night you will come to Diasmonia. Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and himself will host a casual dinner—one that Lilia is not allowed to cook, and where Sebek is forbidden from lecturing your table manners.

The evening feels so foreign to Malleus. He takes his meals with his family every day, yet the table is never as lively as it is when you attend. As you both engage in pleasant conversation, the fighting between Sebek and Silver fades to background noise. When he turns to talk with Lilia, you are soon wrangled into the fight, yet it becomes more playful than tense. Malleus watches in amusement as you draw a whip-cream mustache on Silver when he falls asleep. Sebek even ends up with icing in his hair after making fun of your art skills, and Malleus nearly chokes on his cake.

It’s perfect. You are perfect. He can hardly keep himself from giving you your present then and there—something Lilia notices, urging Malleus to walk you home since, ‘it is a school night fufu’.

Leading you through the forrest, Malleus feels his heart soar when you thank him for the wonderful evening. He stops you mid-stride with his hand on his chest, and reaches to pull something from his uniform breast pocket. A sigil. More specifically, a sigil that grants entrance to Briar Valley.

“Child of man—no, (Y/N). You and I are different in so many ways. Compared to my people you are merely a child, yet I find myself learning more from you than any elder has taught. Not only in terms of humanity, but of my heart. You have beseeched me in body and soul. I dread the day we must part; and so, If you choose to remain in this world then know that there is a home waiting—you need only want it,”

Lilia Vanrouge

Birthdays are important to Lilia. They celebrate the gift of life, yet also remind us of the past. Lilia knows many birthdays. He’s old enough to fill books with his companions — he actually has. You need only open a textbook to hear about some of his past friends — and the list keeps growing. Even after people have long passed on, he remembers their birthday. The day will come and he will remember their life. Their shared memories.

You are no exception, although you have yet to pass on (which he is hoping does not happen anytime soon. The next time someone overblots he will be reporting NRC for student neglect). Being the sleuth that he is, Lilia learned about your birthday through snooping.

It was a difficult task considering how you are an enigma to Twisted Wonderland. With no documentations to smuggle, all Lilia could do is rely on gossip. How fortunate he was to be in the area when his heightened hearing picked up talk of a surprise celebration.

And how unfortunate for the party planners, because you will have other plans that evening. Fufufu~

With a special day quickly approaching, Lilia is in chipper spirits. Silver does not miss the extra carton of eggs, sack of flour, sugar, etc. stashed in the kitchen and fears for his life. All of Diasmonia is on edge, thinking that their senior is planning to craft them a new dish

Tensions diminish when notice of your birthday reaches everyone else, until an entirely new problem arises. This being that Lilia plans for you to eat one of his monstrosities, on your birthday no less

It wouldn’t be so bad. Except that it’s been literal decades since their elder has been in love good friends with someone, and your death would end that. If not death, food poisoning would definitely cause Lilia to lose good noodle points

With his father set on making you a special treat, Silver watches from the sidelines as one of the most hideous cakes is produced.

Being the good son he is, Silver waits until nightfall to swap the cake with an exact replica. Except this one is edible, although some “unique,” features could not be replicated with fondant. Just be grateful it’s all edible and doesn’t have fish scales for “crunchy texture”

Lilia wastes no time on your birthday. At exactly midnight, your window is thrown open and he’s sitting on the ledge expectantly. Lilia balances both the cake and a present box in his hands, laughing when you leap out of bed to pull him inside.

Blow out your candles quickly, because he is excited for his cake to be the first you taste. The flavors were chosen with you in mind, and when that’s done he has an extra special surprise present. He’s a bit smug when handing over the box, a comment about spoiling you too much playing on his lips. Quickly now, open it—

“You like it, yes? Fufufu~ Of course you do, it was once mine after all. Pocket watches are not in style as they used to be, but this is an antique! One of my favorite pieces — and now it belongs to you. Happy birthday, my dear. My time is forever yours,”

Silver

“Ah. So, today is your birthday?”

Silver does not know until you tell him. He’s not nosy like Lilia, desperate like Malleus, or blunt like Sebek; he relies on you to tell him about important things. Now that he knows, there is a mental bookmark for next year, but currently? He has nothing prepared

He feels a bit guilty. This is your first year in Twisted Wonderland; with him. What kind of boyfriend doesn’t know his partner’s birthday? A scummy one, according to your little cat friend

He doesn’t go out of his way to plan something extra special. Celebrating tomorrow seems pointless since it’s today that you were born, so that is out

He also has to serve Lord Malleus, since he hadn’t requested time off and Sebek would slice his head off for skimping on his duties. It’s unfortunate, but all Silver can do is wish you a happy day. With fleeting a kiss on your wrist in the morning, he begrudgingly goes to start his daily routine

It is not easy. Please do not think him heartless. Oh great seven, the thought of upsetting you spikes his adrenaline enough to keep him awake through class

Time skip to dinner, where the four are sitting down to one of Lilia’s delicious homecooked meals. Malleus asks Silver if you both had already celebrated, which leads to a shameful admittance of forgetting…

Que Sebek fury. Uncontrolled rage because Silver ditched you for duties that Sebek could have easily covered. “Humans only live so many years,”… “You lazy bastard,” yada yada. Wow. Sebek chewing Silver out for something unrelated to Malleus??? And he’s right?? Someone get a camera.

Nevermind that he is also human, and Sebek half-human. The point is that Silver royally fucked up, and his family now has to fix it. Half-way through the argument Malleus disappeared to kidnap invite you over. Lilia’s on his way to see if Sam has any treats for sale (since there is not enough time to bake), and the two fighting are left to scream. They only stop when you return with Malleus, confused and in need of an explanation

Which you do not get. Instead, Silver composes himself and thanks his liege before pulling a chair out for you to sit. Lilia returns with store-bought sweets, and apologizes that they are not homemade. While there are no gifts, the four of you all enjoy the evening together.

Eventually it is time for you to return home, and despite the enjoyable evening there is still something missing. Silver is grateful that his family gave you both the chance for quality time…yet something still feels unfulfilled

As he walks you home, it hits him. An idea that’s been in front of him the entire day. Not ready for the day to end, Silver asks you to wait on the steps of your dorm as he runs to fetch something. He runs back into the woods with purpose, and soon returns with small bouquet of wildflowers.

“I am sorry for making this day a mess. If not for everyone else, I may have let a precious moment like this pass by. Happy Birthday, (Y/N). I may not voice it often, but I care for you. Deeply,”

Sebek Zigvolt

Birthday? Why does that matter when lord malleus is breathing the same air as you? Feel honored, peasant.

Humanhumanhumanlordmalleushumanscrewyousilverhumanhumanlordmalleuslordmalleusmasterliliastupidhumanstupidsilverpshh

…….

………………

^^ Just kidding

Okay, half kidding.

You have somehow done the unimaginable. Sebek has gotten over his daddy issues and accepted that humans are not entirely terrible. Why? Well, because he is maybe…sort of…kind of…just a bit…in love with you

Yeah. He did not see that one coming. You can’t even use magic! Yet…credit goes where it is due and you have proven yourself worthy. He is infatuated, and speaks of you with pride. Do not expect anything less than a grand effort on your birthday. Although, please keep an open mind. This is first time with a lover and so he needs help. Lots of help.

Sebek would not dare bother Lord Malleus or Master Lilia with his personal matters, but on the other hand he does not have anyone else to ask. He could write home but that is unwise for many reasons.

Thankfully, Sebek is awful at lying and Lilia was able to dig up his worries. The bat could have pulled a prank and offered bad advice, yet even he knows a joke would be in poor taste. Not with such pure-hearted love at stake

In the end, Sebek was told to stick with human tradition. A present, and a sweet. Easy, right?

Haha. Since when is anything involving Sebek been considered easy. He cannot decide on the “perfect” present, and ends up accumulating a multitude of gifts. He had only gone out shopping once, yet at every shop he found something that reminded him of you. No gift felt, “perfect,” and so now he has around a dozen different presents to choose from. All stashed under his bed.

Next came the wrapping. Should the paper match your eyes or your hair? Should he get a large bow, or make one himself? There are so many gifts, should he wrap them together or individually?

Then comes the sweet. Sebek wanted to get your favorite, but had no clue what it was. What if it was a complicated recipe from your world? He would make it, of course he would. Yet how can he make what he’s never tasted himself?

It goes on like this. Every detail has to be perfect, or else it is not worthy. He begins to stress himself while doing a horrible job at hiding it from you. Eventually it becomes too painful to watch, yet all becomes clear on your birthday.

It’s at breakfast when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and Grimm points over to Diasmonia’s table with a shaking paw. Confused by his sudden fear, you turn to see your boyfriend glaring daggers into the back of your head

When your eyes meet, he shoots up and a loud bang resounds as his leg collides with the bottom of the table. Smooth.

After composing himself, he marches to your table with determination and demands that you meet him in the botanical garden after classes. Leaving no room for response, the man is back at his table and likely being laughed at by Silver

When you arrive, there is a table with the presents he bought stacked on top. All perfectly wrapped and arranged. You admire them briefly when the clatter of cutlery, followed by the sound of a match being lit catches your attention.

“Happy Birthday to you~ Happy Birthday to you~ Happy Birthday (Y/N)~ Happy Birthday to you~…was that to your liking? I have not heard anyone sing to you today, yet it is human custom in some cultures. I will do so again next year if you want,”

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khaire-traveler · 2 months

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Hello! I’ve been researching for probably a year now on working with and worshipping deities. I want to start working with Hades as well as a few others. Anyway my question is when are you able to form a more casual/intimate relationship with your deity? How do you know if they want that? Love your account btw!

Hey, Forrest! Glad you like my blog c:

My best advice to anyone who is hesitating with deity worship is to just dive right into it. Even if something doesn't work out the way you anticipated, there's no better way to get the experience you're looking for than to simply just start. That's honestly how I started worshipping Lord Haides - just diving right into it after some basic research on who he is. Sounds like you've done way more than enough research, so I think now is the time to take action!

If a deity doesn't want to be worshipped by you, I promise they will find a way to make that clear to you. Deities know how to speak for themselves very well. That said, however, I haven't met a single deity that doesn't at least appreciate worship or veneration. I'm closer with some than others, but I venerate many deities, and even the ones I tend to be more formal with are very kind. There is no negative consequence for beginning worship. Deities are the protection from evil, not the cause of it. There is nothing for you to fear by diving right in. You're more than ready. 🧡

If you do ever want a direct form of communication with a deity, though, I recommend looking into different divination methods. These are the best ways to get a very direct and oftentimes immediate answer from a deity. Things such as tarot, cartomancy, pyromancy, and carromancy work great!

With this all said, I do have a very broad guide on beginning worship if you find yourself at a loss of how to start. Under my pinned post, you can look in the "Deities & Entities" section to find some very useful posts on how to get started. Near the bottom of the post should be something called "How to get started with Paganism" or "How to start worshipping a deity" - something like that. The post gives very general first steps, such as how to give your first offering. I hope it can be of some help to you!

Thank you for the ask! I wish you the best on this new journey, and I truly hope you enjoy every step of it. Take care, and have a good day/night! 🧡

#answered asks #asks

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autisticlalna · 3 months

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and i am just the NEW INVENTION - a Twitch SMP VikingPilot & Rubyco fanmix

[ listen on Spotify! ]

TRACKLIST: tally hall - Ruler of Everything // oingo boingo - Gratitude // hi i'm case - Monsters Nearby // IDKHOW - New Invention // forrest day - Sleepwalk // jubyphonic, circus-p - Hello, Again // big data - Put Me to Work // chase petra - Reliable Narrator // enter shikari - Crossing the Rubicon // the mountain goats - Younger // rare americans - Up, Up & Away // 65daysofstatic - Aren't We All Running // set it off - Hourglass // USS - Hydrogenuine // agosti - Triangles // becko - HOME // area 11 - Everybody Gets A Piece // panic! at the disco - Crazy = Genius // enter shikari - No Sleep Tonight // fall out boy - The Last Of The Real Ones // i fight dragons - The Devil You Know

(warning: contains strong language)

reasoning behind songs under the cut!

these are a bit of a mess and are anywhere from "viking" to "ruby" to "navigator" to "kinda sapphire-ish??" to "one's feelings about the other" to "both of them" to "general vibe". there's also a few songs that got cut but still kinda hit the vibe that i might talk abt some other time??? i dunno man this playlist was a catastrophe to make. ANYWAY

Ruler Of Everything: "you understand mechanical hands are the ruler of everything, ruler of everything, i'm the ruler of everything in the end" // Viking. i don't really need to elaborate here, it's just Viking.

Gratitude: "but when i think of you, and what you've done to me, you took away my hope, you took away my fantasy, i once had lots of pride, the world was in my hands, i lived way at the top in castles made of sand" // gestures in the vague direction of Viking and Ruby. man i don't even know what's happening over there. this is a bit of a Recency Bias song bc i first heard it like right before lore really kicked off so it was fresh in my mind

Monsters Nearby: "only get so far putting off those dreams of yours [..] thinking of all these strange things when you should rest, it's hard to sleep like this when there's monsters nearby" // Ruby! and, like, of course i'm going to add the song that keeps making me think of the "You cannot sleep, there are monsters nearby" message. "And that voice behind the polarized advice can be the same" is about Viking, though.

New Invention: "oh i can't say no, i'm losing control! i'm having bad dreams, and nothing you can do will keep the bad dreams away from me until i fall asleep. bad dreams! despite your good intentions, that girl is like an architect and i am just the new invention!" // Ruby and Viking! if i did an animatic to any song off this playlist it would be New Invention. goddamn. (also, tViking's design reminds me a bit of eFalse, and roenais's Empires animation to this song lives in my head rent-free)

Sleepwalk: "bad thoughts give me bad dreams and my bad dreams make me get up and walk. bad thoughts give me bad dreams and my bad dreams make me sleepwalk." // oh my god Ruby and Sapphire. the ominous mood encapsulates everything about Sapphire to me, especially before we knew who Saph actually is and she was just "Ruby sleepwalks and leaves ominous signs". it's dark and foreboding and i love it.

Hello, Again: "find a mechanist, a mechanism, working one-by-one! with a busted up database, i'm losing the chase, but i'll say hello again, hello, just who have i become?" // the whole conversation about fixing things, and how that's become a reoccurring theme with Sapphire as well - switching from Ruby being the broken one to Viking being the one needing to be fixed. plus the whole "Ruby and Viking meeting across loops" thing - hello again, hello, just who can i become?

Put Me to Work: "set me off, see what i'm worth! turn me on, i go berserk! i don't care if i get hurt! no, i don't care, just put me to work! [..] i will replace you, replace you, replace you [..] and i won't care when they get hurt, no i don't care, just put me to work!" // Viking is, uh. a lot. hyperfocused to the point of self-destruction. this does bleed over to Ruby too, though, what with zir being desperate to be something Viking won't throw away when he stops seeing zir as useful and Navigator's warning of "don't let him break you". i guess the real question is: would Viking care if they get hurt?

Reliable Narrator: "did you forget that i am not a pacifist? the scar we'll earn from that will be well worth it. did you-- hypnosis, bring roses, don't blow this [..] the bruising will be worth the freedom i have earned from letting everything burn!" // basically every Ruby song on here is "Ruby is going through it". there's a tension here. very fun to have this song on here though considering Sapphire sign "I am a unreliable narrator, am I not?"

Crossing the Rubicon: "fill me out a prescription for this existential dread, i woke up into a nightmare and i'm hoping that you'll take me back to bed [..] fill me out a prescription, can you free me from this curse? i woke up inside your compass and you're navigating us from east to worst [..] something's got to give, we've gone too far to turn back" // this has been a Viking song for ages but never made it onto my dViking playlist for some reason. it works better here, i think. there's going to be a tipping point where you cross the point of no return.

Younger: "try not to lose sight of the mission! it never hurts to give thanks to the broken bones you had to use to build your ladder. moment close at hand, half of you will never understand, and it doesn't really matter. [..] it never hurts to give thanks to the navigator, even when he's spitting out random numbers." // Certified Navigator Moment as suggested by Charm!! this is one of the songs i can't put into words the emotions i have about it but it's just... a lot. "It never hurts to give thanks to the broken bones" is about everybody Viking is going to burn through to get to his goal, and that kinda ties into Navigator trying to intercept i guess??? i dunno man i don't work here <- literally made this playlist

Up, Up & Away: "how many lives can a guy buy? [..] can't erase or save face, what will they think when they hear my voice on the tapes? skies open, wheels in motion, no going back, no, i've chosen!" // Viking!! aaaauughhhhhhhhh. what will you do to get to where you need to go? once again linking into the we've gone too far to turn back thing from Crossing the Rubicon. y'know, in case you can't tell that i think Viking's going to do something awful to reach his ambitions.

Asking For It: "power through the point of no return, famously deranged, all the same hope you change, if the worm is gonna turn, it's none of my concern" // somebody absolutely rips into Viking. probably Ruby. "if the worm is gonna turn it's none of my concern" is said by Viking in this context though. famous last words before Ruby (or Sapphire?) decks him. fun fact: this was one of the first songs i associated with tViking specifically, back during the first lore scene, but i went "ehhh???" on it. then we got to see a bit more of him and... yeah. this guy is asking for it.

Aren't We All Running: [instrumental] // there's a couple instrumentals on here because of talking to Solar about how character playlists rarely have instrumentals and i wanted to have a couple of rest points. i love the slow build here and the overall mood. montage music.

Hourglass: "i can't fix it, is this where i give in? i'm falling through the hourglass, and i don't think i'll ever make it back [..] turn the page, look back at what you wrote, do you still feel the same?" // shoutouts to Rubyco Themself for namechecking this song! it's real good. someone let Ruby out of his BOX he needs HELP

Hydrogenuine: "11 is the number i seem assigned to, inversions of an opposite truth aligns you, directions like the back of your hand will guide you, i am simply here to assist and remind you" // this is kindasorta a Navigator song, kindasorta just The Situation. i cannot properly explain this one, it just Is. what if we kept running into each other in different universes and timelines but something broke this time and now we're trying to fix it

Triangles: [instrumental] // iiii wanna animaaaate to this sooooongggg hope this heeeeelps

HOME: "every road leads back to where i belong! and i can see, when i'm on my own it's the place i can call home! my mind creates a new world that is so disordered, i proclaim myself king and pope! DID, we are in 3 but we're getting along well, i'm glad to be the leader of the wolf pack!" // Viking is so incredibly not okay. just, like, in general. had fun with the DID lyric though considering Viking and Ruby's plotlines are "other versions of themselves are hijacking their bodies" lmao. love unconventional plurality.

Everybody Gets A Piece: "did you honestly think it might've been, might've been me? and all this while, did you think of me? you know, all this while we were pure potential energy dreaming [..] don't ask, you'll never get! you never asked, so you never got nothing! did you get all you wanted from me?" // this one's a bit looser but the vibes are there. the "don't ask, you'll never get" bit is Viking and Sapphire constantly talking in circles mixed with Viking using everybody as tools and that potentially including Ruby. UM. ALSO MAYBE A NAVIGATOR SONG NOW TBH. I MADE THIS BEFORE TONIGHT'S STREAM.

Crazy = Genius: "and i said: if crazy equals genius, if crazy equals genius! then i'm a fucking arsonist, i'm a rocket scientist! if crazy equals genius! you can set yourself on fire, but you're never gonna burn, burn, burn! you can set yourself on fire, but you're never gonna learn, learn, learn, hey!" // peak Viking. LOOK WE'VE EVEN GOT THE FIRE THEME IN HERE! we love an unhinged inventor with an obsession with fire metaphors

No Sleep Tonight: "and from that height we'll leak the lies, and unveil the damaged skies, 'cause we can't quite stomach this! [..] i still can't comprehend a beginning or an end, no i can't quite stomach this! all i'm trying to say is: you're not getting any sleep tonight!" // more hypothetical Future Speculation stuff mixing in with how generally Screwed reality is for Viking/Navigator and Ruby/Sapphire. also the sleepless theming that's clinging to Ruby through all of this.

The Last Of The Real Ones: "you were too good to be true, gold plated - but what's inside you, but what's inside you? [..] i will protect you, i will protect you, just tell me tell me tell me i- i am the only one, even if it's not true, even if it's not true" // WHAT IF YOU WERE SIBLINGS AND KEPT FINDING EACH OTHER IN EVERY UNIVERSE BUT THINGS KEPT GOING WRONG

The Devil You Know: "nobody knows you better than your demons, so, dance with the devil you know or go home."

#leo.txt #twitch smp #vikingpilot #rubyco #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #[inhales] AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #bell noises!#tsmp #I FORGOT MY TAG FOR THESE. APOLGIEIS. EXPLODE FOREVRR #clock noises!#leo.mp3

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gloomforrestrunes · 11 months

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It's okay if you'd rather not share, but I'm wanting to start a webcomic and I'm not really sure how to script it. I know that since I'm the only one working on it, the script only needs to make sense to me, but I'm still kinda stuck lol.

How do you script Runes?

scripting is definitely easier once you have a relatively solid idea of what events happen in your story! if you don't know what your webcomic is going to be about yet, i'd make a timeline first and figure out the very beginning and the very end of your story, then you can slowly figure out the rest from there!

as for scripting itself, what i did is create a summary of each chapter in runes. like you said, it only has to be so you understand what's happening in the chapter, so the summary itself doesnt have to be completely coherent haha. its basically just a big block of text that describes what i want the characters to do, where they are, the purpose of each scene, and sometimes ill write specific lines or interactions that i know i want to appear in the comic.

after doing that, i break down the chunks of text and turning it into actual dialogue! heres an example of what my scripts look like.

(as a quick aside- i use an app called werdsmith to script. but you can use literally any writing application haha)

its important to know that you can always go back and revise things. if a scene doesnt work or if a line isnt hitting, you can change it!! even when you think you're done with a script, you may find that you want to add or change things and thats okay!

thats how i work my way through scripting! i know it seems a little daunting at first, thats just how creating an entire story is, but my advice is to literally just go for it! if you have a story you want to tell then its worth telling.

i wish you luck!!!

#ask #anon #forrest's advice

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trainalt22 · 3 months

Text

Tidbits & Bobs #2

(NG Edition)

• Rusty transitioned to gender-neutral in 1998 and goes by they them

• Duncan and Rusty are unlikely best friends but the two get along greatly

• Skarloey and Rheneas see the newer fleet members (except Duke) as their kids and act accordingly with Rhen being the "cool dad"

• Skarloey has a Welsh accent while Rheneas has an English one although Rheneas learned Welsh just for Skarloey

• Rusty has a Macabre sense of humor often their jokes don't land on the SKR fleet but they don't mind they get a laugh out of Duncan sometimes though

• Sir Handel and Peter Sam are in a relationship and have been since 2002

• Rusty can't see ghosts but they can sense them they can sense many different paranormal events and tries to warn others however Sir Handel never listens

• Duncan tries to listen to rustys advice including saying thank you to the "Forrest spirits" but he doubts their existence but he sees what happens to Sir Handel and doesn't wanna take that chance

• Rheneas hates when his name is mispronounced he says it's pronounced Rhen-E-as, not Rhen-A-as but Skarloey says it wrong on purpose just to wind him up

• Duke is a former guardian however when his shed was buried he respectfully retired and relinquished his powers so that it could find a new engine to take up the mantle

• Sodor technically has two guardians one on the NWR and one on the SKR it's a rare occurrence and as such it drains the sudrian golden well more than if there were just one leaving the guardian on the SKR weaker than their NWR counterpart

• Sir Handel is considered a cursed or unlucky engine that paired with his general bad attitude means that he rarely has a crew that wants to work with him

• Mr. Percival Sir Topham Hatt and Sir Robert Noremby try to gather once a month for tea and more often than not they take a scenic route around The Skarloey Lake pulled by the railway's namesake

#ttte #ttte au #vivamus machinis #ttte skarloey #ttte rheneas #ttte peter sam #ttte mr percival #ttte sir topham hatt #ttte sir handel #ttte duncan #ttte rusty #rusty is the goth child of the SKR and you cant tell me otherwise #proteus is cannon he just needs his own tidbits and bobs #sir handel isa bitch tbh

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paperbackribs · 4 months

Text

A Tarnished Copper Boy (7

Previous | Next | Ao3 Last chapter, Eddie cared for a concussed Present Steve while giving him advice on how to check in on Max after she took down Billy.

Chapter 7: A Smouldering Ember

In the fading light of the late November afternoon, Eddie’s white van rumbles to a stop outside his trailer, the crunch of gravel beneath the tires echoing through the quiet air of Forrest Hills.

Contentedly tumbling out of the driver’s side, he bounds up the short stairs to the front, his breath visible in the crisp air. The sky behind him is painted with the darkening hues of orange and pink, a softening blur of colours leaving behind the daylight clinging to the horizon.

Eddie affectionately pats his pocket full of cash while unlocking the door and hums Girl Gone Bad with feeling because he don’t work for free either. He’d managed a couple of modest deals at his bench in the woods behind the school, but it was Alex Tinsley who had nicely tipped him over into the area of flush, despite making Eddie drive out to meet him at his place in Brookside Heights.

But home deliveries incur an asshole tax, whether the asshole in question knows it or not and Eddie is pleased with the productiveness of his day.

He steps through the door and nearly smacks his face into the floor when he sees Steve standing in the middle of the living area, still clad in Eddie’s soft navy sweats and Dio shirt from his last visit.

The cheerful melody of the Brady Bunch signals the end of the show playing on their boxy television and Steve pulls a toothbrush out of his mouth, flecks of white at its corner. He lights up, grinning, “Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie clinically runs an eye down Steve’s body, looking for hints of a spreading stain but the clothes are too dark to make out any signs of blood. He carefully hangs his key up on the hook, the bile-coloured ghoul figurine cheerfully swings in the air and silence fills the room except for the chattering from an insurance advertisement. Eddie thinks about what he wants to say next.

Steve shifts uneasily, nearly spearing his foamy toothbrush through his locks as he starts and stops pushing his hair back. “Uh, sorry for making myself at home. The morning breath was starting to get to me, and I found an unopened pack under the sink.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, approaching the other boy and circling him: nothing that he can see on his back either. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“I won’t do it again?” Steve is visibly confused and twists to meet Eddie as he huffs in frustration. “Steve, you left a spill of blood on my bed before you disappeared last time. Are you standing there, brushing your teeth, while you bleed out?”

Steve’s expression shifts to shock, “No! No, why would I just walk around the place if I was bleeding out? That’s insane.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie retorts, closing the distance, “You tried to convince me to leave you on a toilet floor three weeks ago while you were puking your guts out and unable to stand without me holding you up. I’m not sure I trust your judgement.”

Steve pouts, “I was fine, wasn’t I.”

Eddie throws an exasperated hand into the air, “That’s not the point! You were unwell and you didn’t let me help. Did you even tell your parents?”

Steve scowls at him for a moment before turning to stomp away to the bathroom. Eddie finds him gargling and spitting out a mouthful of water, he glares at Eddie over his shoulder. “They weren’t in Hawkins, and I was fine.”

Eddie props himself against the door, a blockade against what he’s decided to call Slippery Steve. “That’s worse. You get how that’s not better, right? I spent all night thinking about the ways that you could have been dying, brain swelling and bleeding inside that thick skull.”

For sure Eddie had looked up concussions after that day and he had been horrified at the ways Steve could have ended up damaged or dead. “You could have seized up or vomited in your sleep. And you’re saying that no one was with you?”

Steve concentrates on washing his toothbrush, thumb carefully running over the bristles until the water runs clean. He drops the stick into the holder, alongside Eddie’s and Wayne’s, not looking at Eddie. “They’re not here half the time anyway and there wasn’t anyone to call.”

Eddie flashes back to earlier today when he had watched Present Steve snag a corner table in the cafeteria, away from a stormy Tommy and laughing Billy, and definitely not with Nancy and—according to the rumour mill—her new boyfriend, Jonathon Byers. It’s 1984, Steve has no friends or girlfriend, and his parents aren’t around. Well, fuck. Eddie runs a rough hand over his face; Steve looks wary, so he’ll let it drop for now.

“Okay,” he says placatingly, “Just. Show me your injuries so I can know you’re okay? I’ve been going half out of my mind with worry. Thinking you landed back in the 1860s or something and some Confederate soldier was going to stick you further.”

Steve smiles hesitantly, “Actually, there was a big increase in nurses during the Civil War, so I probably would have been taken care of either way.”

“How do you even know that?” Eddie blinks, caught off guard by the random trivia.

Steve shrugs shyly, “History was the only interesting class besides gym.” He looks down before obviously deciding to play along with what he thinks of as Eddie’s nagging.

Pulling the t-shirt over his shoulders, Steve draws the material from the back forward, the muscles in his forearm flexing. Eddie would normally appreciate the sight, but he’s taken aback by the battered appearance of Steve’s torso.

The splotchy darkness of new bruising is giving way to the sickly yellows and greens of healing skin, and three angry lacerations curve over his sides, two on the right and one on the left. Each is covered in strong black threads neatly stitched, keeping his tattered skin safely closed.

An uneven breath knocks loose from Eddie’s lungs. He’d expected something. Had feared the worst, but his imagination hadn’t prepared him to see the physical proof of Steve hurt, injured in ways that had needed proper wound care. He leans in further as he tries to work out the little pockmarks that surround the worse of the injuries like he’d been torn into by the hooked beak of a bird of prey.

The tear on his left is about an inch long and sits low, closer to Steve’s hip and it looks like he popped one of the stitches. A dried line of blood curves to smear over his soft-looking belly to trail under the navy sweats. His shirt must have ridden up while sleeping and smudged the newly opened wound against the bed.

Hands hovering over him, Eddie feels a bone-deep relief that Steve—if not exactly at the pinnacle of health—has at least been seen to by a doctor. Eddie can admit now that maybe it was more of a deep smudge than a spill on his sheets, but it still had been enough blood that he hadn’t been able to properly wash it out, therefore he was right to have been concerned.

But he wants to take care of Steve further, Eddie realises with chagrin at himself. He’s been fretting and worrying for weeks now and has had no place to funnel that energy.

Steve lets out a surprised grunt as Eddie solidly grabs his hand and drags him into his bedroom. With a careful push, Eddie directs Steve to sit at the edge of the bed.

“While I’m happy to be given an invitation into your bed again, I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the relentless flirt that Steve apparently is, even when only around another guy, and snags the green case with the white cross on its front in the corner of his room. Using a hand on Steve’s knee to balance himself as he kneels down on the carpet in front of him, he pushes Steve’s legs apart and positions them into a more convenient position for Eddie to lean in and access his torso.

Flipping through the first aid book that is surely overdue at this point, Eddie easily finds the section he knows by sight now. Still, he confirms what he needs first before pulling out the two colour-coded modules: purple for dressings and bandages and lime-green for cuts and wounds.

“Eddie,” Steve says uncertainly above him.

“One moment, Steve,” Eddie murmurs, counting out what he needs: gloves, antiseptic wipes, scissors to cut the non-adhesive dressing, paper tape, and butterfly bandages. For lack of a cleaner area, he lays out his supplies on the inside of the large canvas case.

As he starts to look up, Eddie realises that he’d kicked Steve’s ankles to splay on the outside of Eddie’s body, creating a heady v of his muscled legs and setting Eddie’s eye line right at crotch level.

Once again struck by how badly sweats fail to hide away the soft bulge nestled under the thin cotton, Eddie averts his gaze, looking up only to be caught in Steve’s eyes. They've become darker while he was looking away and his breathing is a little heavier.

Right, Eddie chastises himself, Steve's dealing with painful injuries and Eddie is daydreaming about pitching forward and putting his mouth somewhere it has no place being.

“Okay,” Eddie says with a false brightness. “It looks pretty good.”

Steve’s mouth drops a little before choking out, “It does?”

“It does,” Eddie confirms, getting his proverbial footing back under him now that he has a purpose. He holds up an enclosed wipe, the white paper stamped with a blue version of the ubiquitous cross sign. “We just need to clean the worst of it and then cover them with bandages to keep down the risk of infection.”

“Right,” Steve sounds disappointed.

“I’ve got this,” Eddie tries to reassure him. “But did you get them wet when you had a shower…” Eddie thinks back, “Last night?”

Steve lightly touches above one of his stitched tears, “I tried to keep them dry, y— they said that I should keep them from getting water on them. But I was too tired to do anything about bandages.”

Eddie nods, thinking about the pile of used dressing he had found in the trash can the next day. At least Steve hadn’t reapplied the dirty ones over his exposed flesh.

Eddie leans forward, ignoring everything to steadily clean across the tears and gashes, a wet amber reassuringly spreading under the small square of the wipe onto Steve’s skin. If Eddie can see the antiseptic being applied, then he can almost hear the dying gargles of any nasty bugs before they dig in and become infectious.

Eddie gently pinches the skin together over the popped stitch and draws the butterfly bandage over it, keeping the healing edges sealed together. Finally, he cuts the appropriate lengths for the dressings and tapes them over the wounds, making sure to cover the angry-looking pockmarks too.

Steve had kept silent for the most part, his stomach sometimes reflexively flinching, and he’d only let out a soft exhale here and there, but when Eddie looks up the red of his lower lip testifies to Steve having bitten down any sounds of pain. A twinge of sadness runs through Eddie, reminded of a similar attempt at swallowing down his cries while in Eddie’s arms.

“All done. You want to lie back?” Eddie asks sympathetically.

Steve nods shakily, “Yeah, that wasn’t as bad as getting stitched up, but it was… yeah, painful.” He waits until Eddie gathers up the rubbish of his leftover supplies and moves away to tidy the bag before standing up and settling against the headboard.

Eddie cleans up, carefully noting in his checklist the items used, and walks out into the living area to turn off the still-running television. He stops by the kitchen briefly and hands Steve a glass of water when he returns, who nods gratefully and takes a sip.

Eddie hovers before deciding fuck it, Steve’s a big boy. “Do you want a joint? Dull the pain a little?”

Steve grimaces, shaking his head ruefully. “No ever since the—” He cuts himself off, rolling his lips before starting again. “I was drugged and beaten once. I can’t get high without flashing to the other so, no. No drugs. But thanks, I appreciate the offer.”

Eddie’s knees give out and he lands by Steve’s ankles, reaching out to clasp a hand around one like it’ll keep Steve anchored here in time where there are no monstrous beasts, human or otherwise. “Jesus H. Christ. What is your life?”

Steve lays a reassuring hand over Eddie’s knee and if that doesn’t make him feel guilty, he doesn’t know what would. His stomach twists in on itself, here Eddie is nearly getting into scrapes with Tommy and Steve is being a hero, saving kids from racist dickheads and escaping hell.

“It’s okay, that was a while back. I’ll take a smoke though, if you’ve got one.”

Swallowing his self-flagellation, Eddie swiftly reaches for his pack of Winstons—this, he can manage. The gentle glow of the low lamps catches the glint of the plastic covering the red and white box.

Eddie positions himself to the left of the bed next to Steve, the old mattress creaking as he settles. He offers it and a pink plastic lighter while securing the ashtray on his lap so Steve doesn’t have extra to juggle.

Steve gratefully takes them from him and Eddie gazes around the bedroom, taking further comfort from being surrounded by his sanctuary. It had been a homey space when this was Wayne’s room — scattered with a few photographs and smelling of cigarettes and the leather notes of his aftershave. Compared to how Eddie had carefully shaped his room afterwards though it had been practically bare and impersonal.

Now, the room is filled with the life of a high school student: notepads, textbooks and messes of pens and pencils; flooded over with his love for fantasy and D&D: figurines and paint pots, magazines filled with modules and adventure outlines, stories written by Eddie himself; and overflowing with his passion for music: the inherited acoustic guitar resting against an amp, his sweetheart, the red Warlock, pinned to place of pride next to the mirror, the scattering of loud posters for Judas Priest, Dio, and Metallica taped across the walls, carefully positioned with precision but designed to give the room a vibrant, chaotic feel. All of it culminating into a restless energy to match the thrum that runs through Eddie’s chest.

However, the figurative warmth of his refuge does little to stave off the literal chill of the autumn air, the last month of fall readying itself to give way to winter.

As Eddie shivers again, he reaches over the side of the bed to swipe a grey hoodie discarded on the floor. He pulls it over his head and, as he tugs the sleeves over his hands, he thoughtfully eyes Steve’s thin t-shirt. “Do you want one too?”

Steve shakes his head, looking down at the crumpled pack in his hand, “Nah, I run hot.”

“Good to know,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows and feels a flash of triumph as Steve’s lips kick up before he pulls out a cigarette. “Are you sure it’s okay, you’re nearly out.”

Eddie peers over, unsurprised to see three lonely sticks in the old packet. “Go for it, I really only smoke when stressed or feeling social.”

Steve lights the cigarette, bringing it to life with a slow, deliberate drag that paints the dim room in the warm glow of its burning tip. The red cherry of the cigarette becomes a focal point to Eddie, a fiery ember dancing in the quiet.

Steve’s neck tips back, throat bobbing as he releases an exhale, a billow of smoke cascades from his lips, weaving sinuous patterns of flying serpents into the still air.

As the tendrils of smoke die away, Steve’s face smoothens, the lines of tension ease and the ever-present weariness etched into his features seem to fade.

“Same,” he finally says, in response to Eddie’s smoking habits. “I quit for Robin. She threatened to replace my conditioner with hair dye, and I know she’ll wait until I let my guard down and actually do it.” He chuckles, the deep sound rising affectionately from his chest. “I know better than to tempt her.”

The balloon in Eddie’s chest—made buoyant from the building pleasure of spending time with Steve, of having him all to himself, at finally being able to take care of him after weeks of anxiety—abruptly pops. Suddenly a smoke sounds like a wonderful idea, just peachy. He plucks the cigarette from Steve, ignoring the damp tip slick with Steve’s spit and steals a drag for himself. Takes comfort in the accompanying rush.

Steve artlessly continues to explain, “Not worth the risk incurring her wrath, really. Though,” he adds roguishly, “I think I could pull off being a blonde.” Steve flips his head so he’s looking up at Eddie, a swathe of hair falls over his forehead and one gleaming eye. “What do you think, Eddie? Good boy gone bad?”

Eddie’s exhalation gets caught on a cough, the smoke spits out roughly and he shoves the cigarette into Steve’s hand with a neutral hum. He can’t help himself though and once he’s swallowed the jagged ends of his breath he asks, “Would Robin like it though? Got to look good for the girlfriend, Steve-o.”

Steve blows smoke out through a confident smirk, “Nah, best friend. Platonic with a capital P.” He pronounces it with a smack of his lips, before forming a humoured pout. “She thought I was confessing to her once though.”

Steve snorts, amusement evident in his tone. “Wrong weirdo from school,” he says mysteriously, laughing as he looks across the room but obviously lost in memory. “She shot me down pretty quickly. Would have been a crash and burn too if she’d been right.” Steve mimes a plummeting plane with a flat palm before making a goofy explosive sound. “It was one of the best conversations on a toilet floor I’ve ever had. Got me a best friend out of it.”

Traitorously, that balloon starts to inflate again, the rising feeling feeds Eddie’s comically injured expression. He lays a dramatic hand against his heart, the other still holding the ashtray. “I’m insulted, Steve. I thought we had something beautiful in that boys’ bathroom.”

Steve slyly grins at him, “Our time together will always hold a special place in my heart.”

Eddie snorts in response but Steve leans in, more closely than necessary as he ashes the cigarette over the tray on Eddie’s lap. There’s a mischievous spark in his gaze, a subtle glint inviting Eddie into understanding his words. “But what could I do? You refused to take responsibility for the baby: I had to be daddy.”

Eddie freezes momentarily, something unbidden unlocking at the back of his brain until the absurdity of the moment flies through him and he starts laughing.

The sly shadows in Steve’s eyes retreat, as does his body; leaning back with a small smile while Eddie’s chortles start to fade. “Here,” he pushes the remains of the cigarette into Eddie’s hand, “I shouldn’t have too much or I’ll never stop. I’ll survive to reach 1986 only for Robin to hang me by my balls.”

Eddie amiably takes a last drag before stubbing it out, placing the ashtray on the floor by his side of the bed. “She sounds caring? In a terrifying way.”

The remnants of Steve’s smile lingers, a soft brightness that Eddie wants to trace. Steve wriggles further down the bed, leaning back and moving one hand under his head, only wincing a little at the stretch of his injuries. His biceps flex underneath the black t-shift which rides up, exposing a sliver of tanned stomach with a hint of hair dusted over it. Eddie curls his fingers over the itch to reach out and touch.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Steve says. “A polyglot; do you know what that is?” Steve looks up at him eagerly and Eddie is filled with an unbearable fondness, liquid soft like ink seeping through porous paper, leaving delicate, precious ribbons in its wake. Eddie nods silently, words momentarily leaving him.

“I didn’t,” Steve confesses like polyglot is a normal part of everyday conversation. “She speaks Spanish, French, Italian and Pig Latin — just because she wants to.” His pride flows clearly through his words, excited to share his friend’s accomplishment like a schoolboy telling his parents about his first friend on the playground. Made through shared opinions on milkshakes and shaken on spit palms.

It causes that ink to spill further, infusing Eddie’s voice with an indulgent warmth as he teases Steve. “Oh, yeah? I’m not sure Pig Latin counts.”

“It should,” Steve retorts. “If I can claim English then it should count as a dialect.” Steve sounds indignant on Robin’s behalf like he’s had this argument before. His enthusiasm tapers off, gaze lifting to the ceiling in quiet reflection. “Honestly, she’s too good for me. She’s going to get out of here and become, I don’t know, the president of the UN or something.”

“Are they presidents?” Eddie needles, hoping to provoke back that energy Steve suddenly lost. “Sounds like one of those jobs that has a British feel. You know, like Prime Minister or — Prime Master of the World,” Eddie calls out the title grandly, like a WWE announcer and Steve giggles.

“No, definitely president,” Steve finally says. “Do you know the first one was actually a Nazi POW? He came back from that to lead the leaders in defining human rights across the world. That’s cool.”

Eddie eyes him, “You really do like history.”

Steve breaks eye contact, shy again. “Still barely passed my classes. Could never keep the dates straight in my head.”

Thinking of a coming test, Eddie groans in sympathy but Steve sighs looking tired again. “Couldn’t really keep anything straight in school.” The lines on his face deepen and Eddie can’t control his curiosity, “How long have you been in this war? I mean, before you landed here.”

His lips pursed as he decides what to share, Steve says, “Not long, really. I shouldn’t call it a war; it was barely a battle, only a handful of days while we scrambled to keep each other alive.”

Eddie frowns at him in doubt, wondering at the lengths that Steve will go to minimise his pain, whether it be whimpers or tears or admitting to a hellish experience.

“But they were an intense few days,” Steve concedes. “And it’s also been this sporadic attack since ’83. We’d be getting back to our lives, settling back into normality and then bam,” Steve makes a fist and smacks it against the bed, “Here we go again.”

He releases his clenched fist, running a hand through his hair, allowing the bronze strands to cascade freely around his head. “I’ve gotten to the point where I can’t sleep unless I have a bat under my bed.”

“You must have been okay the other night,” Eddie says, thinking of when they had slept together in the same bed. “I didn’t hear you get restless.”

“No offence, Eddie,” Steve says with humour, “But I don’t think an atomic bomb could have woken you the other night.” A subtle interplay of emotions ripples through Steve’s expression before he relents with a faintly surprised mien, “But you’re right — it was probably the best sleep I’ve had in a while. Maybe I felt like I could rest for a moment because you were there. I’ve slept better with Robin in the same room too; it helps, I think, to have someone I trust with me.”

An image of himself observing Steve while he slept flashes through Eddie’s mind. At the time motivated a little because he liked looking at his handsome face, but also so he could watch over him a little longer and make sure that he didn’t disappear. Playing sentinel to the soldier.

Eddie chews at his lip, he’s been thinking about this, has had no choice but to think about it. If Steve is popping in and out of time, with no rhyme or reason other than to land in Eddie’s living room, then he can’t go wandering off like the lonely samurai Eddie had initially envisioned.

“Well, since you’re stuck with me and there’s not much space in a one-bedroom trailer, do you want to keep sharing?”

Steve’s open expression becomes faintly quizzical, quickly overtaken by a wary air. Despite remaining still, Eddie senses Steve withdrawing, distancing himself behind a swiftly forming wall. “To be honest, I thought that was the plan anyway. If I’m cramping your style or, I don’t know, it’s too weird to share your bed with another guy, I can get out of here. I don’t want to overstay my welcome; I’ll figure something out.”

“No,” Eddie’s hand flies out to grab Steve’s hand, intertwining their fingers before he even recognises that he’s done it. Steve’s stiff shoulders relax back onto the bed. “No,” Eddie repeats. “I think you should stay here from now on, it’s the safest option and I’m…” Eddie falters, words uncharacteristically failing him. “I’m happy to share a bed.”

The moment feels unjustifiably serious to Eddie, like he had peeled back a wet layer of his heart exposing the meat that beats inside. He deliberately moves past it with a teasing joke, “Especially if it’ll help with those luggage cases you call bags under your eyes.”

Steve scowls, though his hand squeezes Eddie’s. “You keep calling me ugly and I’ll start taking it personally.”

“Actually,” Eddie says, “I said you couldn’t be hot all the time. I think that’s a very different thing.”

Steve smiles smugly and Eddie realises that he’s been had, “As long as you know, then.”

His cheeks burning a little hot, Eddie glances away, taking a long moment to look about his room; the sanctuary that he can now extend to Steve, helping him to relieve at least one burden in his uncertain life.

He glances at the bedroom window, the curtains half parted to reveal that dusk has given way to night. In the distance, he can hear Millie Anderson shouting for her sons to come in for dinner and the yowl of a cat calls for its compatriots in the chilling dark. Soon the amber, yellow, and red of fallen leaves will give way to the deep greens of winter, sheltered by cloudy skies that only allow the smallest peek into the blanket studded with distant stars above. Eddie will miss them until they come back in the Spring.

Reminded of a similar constellation, Eddie looks over at Steve only to find him asleep, face soft and lips parted, breath falling rhythmically. A small hard knot releases in Eddie’s chest, unravelling an unacknowledged fear. Eddie realises that he’s been expecting Steve to disappear any time he looks away. Now, he watches his sleeping face, relaxed but for those two little creases still gathered between his eyebrows.

Eddie starts to stroke his thumb gently over Steve’s hand, fingers still intertwined with his own. Like a small miracle, the furrow releases and Steve lets out a contented sigh. Eddie watches over him for a long time before he falls after Steve, sleep taking him in her warm embrace.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

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#steddie #time travel #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #a tarnished copper boy #paperbackribs writing

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saltygilmores · 10 months

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls 2/16, There’s The Rub, The Part Where Paris and Rory Are SuperMegaGay And All Is Right With The World Again, Part 6

Paris just saved Rory's hide from the wrath of Dean (okay, she still got plenty of wrath from Dean, unfortunately, but it could have been a lot worse) and this is why Paris is my favorite Boyfriend, not Jess.

You can read parts 1-5 and all previous episodes here.

Omg, my cynical, cold, black heart can't take this tenderness. I love them so much. Long live PariMore! (finally thought of a ship name! woot!)

One of the most serious crimes commited by one miss AmyShermanPalladino in writing a Year in the Life is not taking advantage of the freedom of Netflix and the much more progressive year of 2016 by having Paris get a divorce at the same time that Rory is lost and adrift in her life and finally put these two idiots together. But no. They still didn't find each other and live happily ever after and Rory is still shacking up with Logan even when it's clear that neither Paris or Rory actually like men.

By golly. This is 2002, they said. It can't be done, they said. And yet, PariMore proved us wrong. They went super duper ultra mega gay. Netflix and Chill gay. Slumber party gay. Super Gay Fanfiction!

"Sort of."

Staaaaaaaaahpppppp!! 😭 We interrupt Super Duper Gay Lesbian Slumber Party and cut to Lorelai and Emily having a night on the town after their spa day. They meet a handsome older gentleman at the bar who offers a dance to Emily. In a shocking turn of events that further proves this episode comes from some alternate dimension where all is right with the world with the exception of Dean Forrester, Lorleai happily becomes her mother's wingwoman after some small initial resistance. Are you ok, Lorelai? Do you feel feverish? You haven't nagged, cockblocked, offered unsolicited advice, or butted into anyone's business in like, a whole 30 minutes. This episode has such great Lorelai and Emily banter, like Emily telling Lorelai "You let me get 60/40'd" and "Hookers eat at bars." "Only if they can't get a table." Terrific! But the handsome gentleman gets a little too close, Emily feels guilty about dancing with him and that puts the kibosh on that and Emily blames Lorelai for making her feel like a cheap floozy. Geez Lorelai, I guess you can't win. You're insufferable when you're being a cockblocking menace to society, but then when you actually do relax a little bit and alllow people do as they please, you get the business. Emily wonders why she can't have what Rory and Lorelai have and I don't know if a deeply fucked up mother daughter relationship forged from a teen pregnancy where the 34 year old mother is still about 15 maturity wise is something you want to aspire to. Rory reading the check in forms at her therapist's office 5 years from now: Form: "Reason for appointment?" Rory: "Hmmm..." Lorelai to Emily at the hotel: Rory and I are best friends, Mom. Best friends first, and mother and daughter second! (Rory in her therapist's office: "Ah. There it is.")

There are so many times Lorelai is this - close to having a breakthrough, where she exhibits a fleeting moment of self awareness then poof, it is gone. She didn't pause to think about the implications behind admitting "I'm my daughter's friend before her mother." She will never learn or grow or change. Oh well, that's our Lorelai!

Listen, stop the feuding, you both get a trophy for Sucking At Parenting. Is there any hope for Rory's spawn to break this generational curse? It would be interesting if Rory's future child turned out to be a boy, because like, I have to wonder what creative and different ways she could manage to fuck up a son? (as with everything I'm sure this exists as a work of fanfiction somewhere). Lorelai thinks spending a whole weekend with her mother was too intense and they should have started with something smaller to patch their relationship and grow closer. What is her idea? No, not therapy. Petty theft. They steal the robes from their hotel room. Yay, mother and daughter bonding and not healing any trauma whatsoever!

No, never. Only if it's a box of cornstarch, a boat, or another woman's husband. Emily enjoys the robe stealing caper, some sarcastic quips are exchanged, and the desperate, aching, deep seated emotional trauma being suffered by both parties is once again shoved down deep deep inside to fester like an infected wound.

She's totally fine you guys. We cut to Rory and Lorelai at the diner the next day where Rory is giving Lorelai the run down of the previous events, presumably minus the super duper mega gay sexual tension between herself and Paris. Lorelai remarks that Paris looked nauseous and tired when she woke up in the morning, which Rory attributes to a sugar overload, but we know better. We know how dehydrating all-night Blockbuster & Chill lesbian makeout slumber parties can be.

Oh right, Rory committed the felony of spending one evening with someone other than Dean so now she "owes" him her time. She is talking about it with a level of excitement in her voice akin to someone who was just asked to scrub a toilet. Of course, there could not be a mention of Dean without a deeply troubling response from Lorelai. They go together like peanut butter and jelly. Surely it will be something like, “Aw honey, he just yelled at you because he loves you” or something.

Eh, close enough.

BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! It gets worse! There's only a minute left in the episode! How does she do it, folks? She is truly breathtaking. Before we get there, let's enjoy some Literati bliss. Rory is catching on that the whole Food Delivery thing may have been a ruse from Jess to get all up in her bizzzness and almost pries the truth out of Luke, but Jess diverts Luke away from the scene. Jess and Rory then enjoy an incredibly rare, blissful moment together, free of interruptions, alone at the counter. Or so they think.

Sorry I almost called you a naive woodland fairy when I thought you still didn't get that Luke never actually told Jess to bring to food your house and USA here cooked up the whole scheme on his own. It's clearly Jess who's the naive one if he thinks you're actually going to pay for your food! Ha ha!

WAAAAATTT???!!! #AlternateDimensionEpisode #EpisodeFromOuterSpace #TheOneWhereTheGilmoresPayForTheirFood #IsAmyShermanPalladinoOK?

SOMEONE (two someones) are not happy about this budding, adorable relationship, one so stinking cute that you'd have to be sick to try to destroy it. Like someone who would try to stop a bunny and a puppy from cuddling. Gee, wonder who I'm talking about?

Just normal Butthead Business, staring into windows while people are trying to eat. We already know from prior Window-Peeping episodes this doesn't bother Lorelai in the least. Lorelai smiles sweetly at her ShnookyUkkums Dean as if 30 seconds ago she wasn't hearing a story from her daughter about his anger issues for the 400th time. He's also talking in his usual miserable serial killer monotone about "Spending the day with Rory" like he'd rather be sticking his arm into heavy machinery than spend time with her, and again I have to wonder why he is even bothering with her, other than the fact that she's an easy victim and that no other humanoid woman besides Lorelai would ever give this soggy cornflake the time of the day. L: Rory told me everything that happened last night. She feels terrible about it. You shouldn't feel bad. It was a "Freaky unfortunate thing that happens." She continues in her soft, flirty, gentle Talking to Dean voice, "It had nothing to do with Jess coming over, trust me, she did not want him there!" Um. Again, a very weird thing to say about Some Kid to the guy your daughter is dating? Thanks to one of my followers who pointed out that Rory never said this on camera which means Lorelai has now resorted to flat out lying to Dean in order to sabotage her daughter's friendship (and it's still only a friendship) with Jess.

Look alive Butthead. She's salivating. I think she's about to start humping your leg right there in front of Luke's Diner. Don't make me turn the garden hose on you Lorelai. Dean isn't listening or aware he's about to be humped. He's distracted. There's something he's incredibly concerned about. Rory and Jess....they're talking. To each other. In public. Now, Gilmore Girls knows how to do creepy. We've got plenty of stories of people stalking, eavesdropping, hiding in bushes, leaving excessive amounts of messages, Dean existing, yada yada. But this is easily one of the creepiest things to ever happen on this show. It seriously gives me the chilly willies. The eeby jeebies. The eepy creepies. They look like two villains who have joined evil forces to devestate....Lorelai's own freaking daughter.

Picture ID: Lorelai and Dean watching Rory and Jess have an innocent conversation creepily through a window, cementing their status as the villains in this wholesome drama known as Gilmore Girls. *deep shudder*

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #theres the rub #anti dean forester #rory gilmore #emily gilmore #jess mariano #milo ventimiglia #paris geller #PariMore #The DALA #Dean and Lorelai Affair #Lorelai's ShnookyUkkums #Lorelai is the Villain #literati #dala

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