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monoclesnapple · 3 days

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Intermediate Shenanigans

Bungo Stray Dogs Chuuya Nakahara & Gender Neutral Reader + Osamu Dazai & Reader + Odasaku X Reader Summary: Headcanons about taking care of middle schooler Dazai and Chuuya and dating Oda Beginning Note: Shoutout to all the class clowns/funny people, they're great inspiration for scenarios. @kiwibeanv helped with the stories of said funnies. Word Count: 2629 (Fluff/Crack)

First off, you're their parent figure and they live with you. All comfy with you and they trust you a lot. Now to move on to their stupidity.

Immaturity at its finest.

It’s constant arguing, pointing fingers, and the like.

They’re always fighting for your attention, pushing against each other so your hand can pet them.

You’re sitting on the couch, watching TV, when Dazai runs into the living room and jumps to the spot next to you. Since you’re leaning against the armrest, there’s only one seat next to you.

Dazai pushes himself under your arm and hugs your waist as he sighs contentedly. You idly rub his arm for a few minutes before Chuuya comes in with an annoyed expression.

“Oi, StinkZai, do your history homework before you go do whatever.”

Dazai whined and buried himself deeper into your side. “I’ll do it later! I’m tired right now.” He closed his eyes.

“Dazai, you need to do your assignments before you eventually forget and never get them done,” you told him. He let out a groan at that, “Why can’t Chuuya do it? Isn’t he supposed to listen to me since I’m smarter?”

“You’re not smarter than me! Even a shrimp can do better than you!” Chuuya sped to the two of you and pulled on Dazai until the latter fell to the floor.

“Ow!- That’s my spot!” The brunette rubbed his arm. Chuuya had stolen his spot in your arms now and smirked at the other.

“Maybe you should’ve done your homework first, you idiot!” He blew a raspberry and rested his head on your shoulder.

You sighed, “If you two continue to fight, I’m simply going to go to my room and relax without either of you.”

They both froze and looked at you then at each other. Despite their inability to cooperate without trouble, they agreed on the fact that your presence was probably the most important thing they want. They begrudgingly decided to keep quiet, moving so Chuuya can sit on one of your knees while Dazai reclaimed his initial place.

Eventually, they get their emo phases. One day, Dazai just randomly started wearing bandages over his eye, saying that he looks better.

“Why are you wasting bandages?” “Because I look so cool and a lot of girls come up to me and say I look nice! I know that so many people have a crush on me, especially when I’m like this!” “Just wait til they find out that this stupid mackerel is actually a bad person and a major turn off!” “Chuuya, don’t say that, please.”

And Chuuya had a Sonic phase. He thought the hedgehog was so cool, he wanted to be like him in as many ways he can.

He then found out about Conker’s Bad Fur Day and asked you if he could get it. You thought it’d be a wholesome game for kids, but when you looked at the plot and ratings, you didn’t buy it for him. He was sad, but got over it.

And then he came across Devil May Cry and decided to watch the gameplay and cutscenes because you might not buy it for him (you may consider, but it still has some scenes that you’re skeptical about.)

Nero from DMC4 is so cool despite the excessive “Kyrie!” throughout the game, Chuuya wants to dress like him. And dye his hair white.

Every time he loves a character, he wants to dye his hair their own hair color, but you never let him because why should he ruin his lovely hair? (He may or may not ask to dye his hair just so you can compliment him.)

Hot Topic is their favorite store because it has so many aesthetics and they love the style of the apparel.

They start simping for characters and reading fanfics. You know what they’re reading because they use the family/shared device and don’t delete the history. Why are there so many lemons? What do they mean? (Unless you’re a fanfic reader yourself)

They kinda know what sex is, they have a faint idea, but they’re probably wrong on a few things.

Hence, Dazai is excited for sex ed! Wooo! His head is smacked by Chuuya because the latter is embarrassed that he just yelled that out and now kids are looking at them.

When they’re learning about it, Dazai’s snickering at the pictures. But not the childbirth, what the actual fuck did they just watch?

Oh boy, now they’re the cringe and immature kids who laugh at everything that can vaguely be related to sex.

Anyways, now to the scenario that was the whole reason for this

You were sitting on the couch, Dazai and Chuuya on the floor and you’re petting their heads. You check your phone, keeping a hand on Chuuya’s head and caressing it. He’s smiling with his eyes closed in bliss. Oh, how he loves this affection.

Until Dazai pushes and climbs on him to be the receiver of your pets. He smiles innocently when you glance over, but smirks at Chuuya, who shoves him as well and takes his spot back.

This continues to go on and you’re about to say something, but then the door is unlocked and opened. Dazai excitedly turns to see Oda coming in. He runs over and hugs the man while Chuuya sets himself in your lap.

After greeting Dazai, Oda is carrying him and walks to you and Chuuya, pressing a kiss to your head and ruffling Chuuya’s hair.

You're in a relationship with Oda, and Dazai loves it.

His two favorite people together, who he might call his parents? How blessed he is!

He doesn’t know who he prefers, so the two of you are equal in his eyes. But when it comes to physical affection, he might go to Oda since Chuuya’s all over you and Dazai’s too tired to do anything. Also, he doesn’t see Oda as often as he does you.

Chuuya thinks Oda is great, but he’s not as close to him as Dazai is. If he had to choose between you or Oda, he’d honestly choose you.

Oda loves coming home to find you three waiting for him on the couch. It warms his heart that he is wanted and loved.

Either he comes home to you all cooking dinner, sleeping in a pile on the floor, playing games (board games or video) , or watching TV.

He still takes care of his adopted children at the curry shop, but he also enjoys the company of Dazai and Chuuya

Sometimes, he would bring those five kids to your house so they can play with Dazai and Chuuya. Everyone has fun, it’s like a party. (Sneaking kisses in the kitchen as everyone else plays video games on the TV)

Oda is a gentleman, whenever you two go out, he always opens the door for you, pulls out your seat, and kisses your hand when you both meet and bid goodbye to each other.

If Dazai ever sees you and Oda share a kiss, he’s cheering in his mind. Whereas Chuuya just brushes it off with an unnoticeable upwards twitch of his lips and an eye roll.

Once, you spotted Oda talking to Dazai outside under the moonlight. You knew the former was telling the teen about the right thing to do. Dazai had expressed his want of being involved in some well known group.

He hinted a little about maybe being a detective or even following Oda’s footsteps of going to the mafia. You really didn’t want him to go with the second option, but at least he’d have Oda to guide him if he’s even alive at that time

Thus, he’s told to prioritize other people’s happiness over his own. It’s tough, but it’s for the better of everyone.

He also says the same to Chuuya, but he goes into more detail with Dazai. You mainly handle Chuu with the lectures since he’s more likely to take your words to heart.

Chuuya has great friends in school, they seem like a lovely bunch, and you trust them. You’ve met them before and they were very nice.

Dazai doesn’t have as many, but you can tell he’s not really clicking with them like Chuuya is with his own. When his mood seems to lower, you go to him when he’s alone and you two cuddle. You can faintly pick up the sound of sniffles and feel your clothing moisten. After the session, you two don’t mention it because you know Dazai doesn’t want to remember that.

With any trauma, you take them to therapy. If it’s affecting either kid negatively, they need to talk about it. Initially, they talk to you, but they go see a professional of that doesn’t work.

Academically, the two of them are good. Dazai’s grades are always A’s even if he procrastinates or doesn’t seem to get his work done.

Chuuya usually gets B’s, but his PE is the best with an A+. He signs up for any sports the school offers if he’s interested.

Dazai’s lowest grade is PE, around a C because he’s not athletic like Chuuya.

Both Dazai and Chuuya have the same PE class and teacher, but their participation and effort are the opposite.

“Okay, everyone needs to do fifteen seconds of push-ups and fifteen sit-ups, let’s go! Get started!” The teacher instructed. They were walking around their class in the gym, ensuring everyone was doing what they were told.

They noticed a student lying face down next to the wall and when they walked by, they pointed at him and asked, “Who is that?”

Chuuya heard their inquiry and answered, “Dazai.”

The teacher was silent for a second before focusing back on the other students, “Let’s go! You should be on the next exercise now!”

Whenever there’s a fundraiser, they’re begging you to please donate so they can get a prize.

“Pleeeaaassseee? You can get a refrigerator stuffed with $200! Or even an iPad!” Dazai’s giving you the puppy eye(s) [depends if he’s bandaged his eye or not] and Chuuya is hugging you and kissing your cheek. “We love you so much, can you pretty please with a cherry on top donate? We’ll pay you back!” (They don’t make money, nor do they have an allowance.)

When it comes to projects, Dazai always waits until the last minute.

“Hey, can we go to the store and buy supplies? I have a project.” He whispered to you.

“Huh...?” You were woken up by him at whatever the time was, so you rubbed your eyes and sat up. Oda was still asleep beside you, a peaceful expression on his face. You kept your voice to not disturb him, “What?” When you checked the time, it was 2 am.

“I need some things for my science project,” Dazai was just standing by your bed, with big eyes, looking as though he had thrown up.

“When’s it due?”

“Tomorrow.” You frowned at that.

“Sorry bud, can’t help you. It’s too late, why aren’t you in bed?”

“I had to work on my project and other assignments,” he shifted in his spot and awkwardly averted his eyes. “I only need two things, glitter markers and a poster board.”

You stared at him tiredly, before sighing. “What happened to the ones I bought at the beginning of school?”

“I lost them.”

You blinked, unmoving. “And you can’t borrow Chuuya’s?”

He shook his head, saying they weren’t what he needed. At last, you moved the covers off your body and made your way to the closet. “Fine, go get ready. You should be thankful I’m even entertaining this idea.”

Dazai silently cheered and sped to his room. Why were you so lenient with these children? They’re gonna be spoiled.

His project was claiming that potatoes can power up devices. A stupid as it sounds, he somehow makes it convincing until it’s actually tested and obviously it doesn’t work. But he still gets a passing grade for the effort.

During one of their classes, Chuuya asked to go to the bathroom and ten minutes later when the teacher was about to ask about his location, he comes back with a lunch tray.

“Where’d you get that?” “I look like a sixth grader.”

He just munched away as everyone stared at him confused before they got back to the lesson.

Another time, the teacher left the room for a few minutes. Since Dazai wondered what their coffee tasted like, he waltzed over to the desk and took a sip and immediately spat it out.

“Ugh! It tastes like shit!” When the teacher came back, the whole class silently agreed to stay quiet and not tell on him.

When it was around Halloween and everyone could wear a costume, Dazai wore a squirrel suit. He brought an acorn prop and clipped it to the front of his pants. When walking up to the stage for the best costume contest, he hit the acorn with his legs, playing with it, until it accidently hit his balls and he crouched to the floor in pain. Of course, the guys winced at it, but it was pretty funny. Someone, Chuuya probably, yelled out, “He busted a nut!”

More nonsense, pantsing sometimes occurred. And Chuuya was the unfortunate target for Dazai. He had snuck up behind the former, and yanked down his pants. Regrettably, Dazai’s fingers also caught onto the waistband of the undergarments and when it came down, he got a face full of balls.

He was so traumatized despite being the one to commit the act.

Food fights can also happen. While Chuuya was peacefully eating his lunch, Dazai threw a tomato slice at him and the fruit made a satisfying splat! on Chuuya’s cheek.

He also tried to throw cheese, but he missed and it landed in the hair of someone who was just walking by. (And somehow did not get in trouble).

For presentations, Chuuya had to do an audio recording, and Dazai just sneezed at the beginning of it, He recorded another but when uploading the audio files, he accidently clicked the sneeze one. Presentation day was funny, but Chuuya didn’t necessarily like it.

If they had online school, Chuuya would be talking to the camera before a ball smack his face. He falls out of frame, and Dazai is just seen running in the background.

There are also interviews or random school news done by the student council. They hate having to work with Dazai and Chuuya together because they always argue. The one time the video went right was when Chuuya had a voice crack.

Rallies also happen, and students would have to cheer as loud as they can for their team. Chuuya and Dazai are the loudest, but they also suffer from voice cracks. After the rally, they lose their voice for about a day.

Rocketry is an elective, and there’s a weird Russian kid named Fyodor. Both the boys don’t really like him. Since he’s associated with rats (Kids call him Rat), they wanted to get a rat plushie. They asked you if you could get them a rat plushie. You decided to buy it for them, not knowing why they actually wanted it.

They taped the plush to the rocket, put more power into it, and they launched it into the air. When it blasted off, they looked at Fyodor with threatening stares.

Occasionally, you and Oda would volunteer to help with some school activities. The first time both of you arrived, so many students had a crush on either of you. They’d go to Chuuya/Dazai and whisper “That’s your parent?”

Oda’s a dilf and you’re also a milf/dilf.

What a happy family you lot are.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu #bsd odasaku #odasaku x reader #oda sakunosuke #~writing~#~headcanons~

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triplecreature · 1 day

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actually I'm kind of curious about this because it was a huge debate among my peers in my community

Clarifications under the cut:

The poster is in a public space where it is typical for everyday people to post things. It is not someone's private property or possession. Think piece of paper taped to a telephone pole, not sign in a storefront or in someone's yard.

The poster is not protected by law; you are very unlikely to face legal consequences for vandalizing it. Caveat: some peers have argued that it risks being socially consequential because an organization or demographic that you are a part of may be judged as intolerant/oppressive/disruptive/otherwise unpleasant if people witness your actions, and thus advocated against vandalism for fear of damaging your public image.

The poster is not an expensive or personal piece of artwork; it is a mass produced print on letter paper.

You are vehemently opposed to the message displayed on the poster, but it is an opinion that people are free to have in your country.

The 4th option refers to things like intentionally putting your own poster over top of the bad poster or otherwise making the bad poster harder to view; some people argued that targeting the poster for removal is out of line, but posting your own messages is an innocent action that you are well within your right to do (in this context, posters regularly eclipse each other as new ones are posted over top of outdated ones due to limited space)

The poster is part of a campaign; it's not unique. There are many postings of it across the community.

This is all assuming that the offending poster is not old and would typically not be considered fair game for pruning for quite some time, and that it is being specifically targeted for removal because of its message (rather than petty vandalism or because it's obstructive or damaged). E.g., if a poster is advertising an event happening on April 20th, it's typical to prune it after that date but not before.

Of course the situation that prompted the real life debate did involve a specific offending message, but I'm not going to specify what it was for now because I think it'll skew the results as people will just end up voting based on whether they like or dislike that message, which isn't the point of this. For this poll we are assuming that it IS a message that you are very opposed to; you can substitute in your own opinion that you have strong feelings about.

Please reblog for sample size!

#my og opinion was that it wasn't that deep. it's just a paper poster. and if it's promoting evil then it should go #i did trash 2 posters before i even found out that the issue was being hotly debated. didnt really think too hard about it #on one end there were people congratulating me and on the other were people saying that it's out of line + sets a really bad precedent #like in a “you are silencing the opposition and that's playing dirty. i dont agree either but they are legally free to express this” way #meanwhile still others argue that actually you have a moral duty to get rid of things that explicitly promote evil ideas #and some said that since we are a minority group we should avoid scandal and not provoke people into hating us. which i never thought about #anyway i am curious what other people think since i can see the merit in all the viewpoints #my posts

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jrow · 2 days

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May Prompts (12)

Day 11 here.

Family

It’s funny the degree to which having a real family shifted his priorities.

Maybe not funny, but surprising. At least to him.

His entire life, family had felt like an obligation more than anything else. His mother meant well, but she didn’t really know how to parent. His dad was a drunk arsehole. And the least said about Harry the better.

No wonder he’d ended up fighting in a war across the world.

Obligation was exactly how Mary had felt at the end. But despite his spiral after her death (and the resulting piss poor parenting that took all the worst elements from his own parents style), his love for Rosie had been fierce and unwavering. She hadn’t been an obligation, but a gift he didn’t deserve. She got him through.

Well, her and Sherlock. Once John finally let himself acknowledge that Sherlock had become like family himself, things slowly got easier. John was happier. Suddenly, family was love.

But, that can complicate things at times. Balancing the wants and needs of the two members of his family against each other and his own.

Sherlock has been here with him at the hospital all day. After Sherlock first arrived this morning, they spent about a half hour talking about what happened. The thief, the chase, John’s fall. Not surprising, really, given their choice of profession. Although perhaps a bit of a wake up call. John isn’t as young as he used to be, and now he has a child to consider.

John had also hoped to talk about the intruder and see if Sherlock had any theories. He promptly fell asleep instead. And slept for over six hours. Understandable maybe, but embarrassing all the same.

Sherlock was still there when he woke up. John is fairly certain the man never left his bedside. And for twenty minutes, they have been discussing the intruder—the evidence gathered so far (limited, much to Sherlock’s hilarious annoyance) and theories on motives. It’s wonderful and John hates to cut it short, but he knows he must.

Molly would likely agree to pick up Rosie from nursery. Mrs. Hudson too. But they’ve never done it before and, under the circumstances, that will scare Rosie. Right now her comfort takes precedence over John’s and Sherlock’s wants and needs.

Sherlock is currently ranting about security measures in the hospital. To be honest, John stopped paying attention to the details a couple minutes ago. He opens his mouth to interrupt, but is beaten to the punch when Sherlock stops abruptly and stands up.

“Sorry, John. I need to head to the nursery now. If I pick up Rosie a bit early, there will be time for a short visit here for. The timing will be perfect for her tea.” He puts on his coat. “The cafeteria has cut fruit, goldfish, yogurt, and some rather boring pasta dishes that she’ll probably like. It should be sufficient.”

John finds himself smiling broadly. “You are going to get Rosie.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes and the sight warms John’s insides. “Of course, I am getting Rosie. This will be a very stressful time for little Watson. After our visit here, I will take her home and put her to bed. Molly has agreed to spend the night at your house again so I can leave.”

“Oh yes, of course,” John says. “You’ll be wanting to get back to Baker street.”

Sherlock looks at John like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. It’s ridiculous how much John loves that look. “I’m coming back here, John. Why would I go to Baker Street?” He shakes his head and makes his way to the door. “Do sleep now, so we can continue working tonight. Gerald has managed to finagle his way on to the case, so the Yard may actually prove helpful. He will be coming by at 9 to go over what little evidence they have.” He pauses. “Don’t tell Gerald I said he might be useful.”

John chuckles. “I believe visiting hours end at 8.”

“That doesn’t apply to you,” Sherlock says with a dismissive wave. John doesn’t doubt it.

And with that, Sherlock is gone. But, soon to return with Rosie in tow. John smiles to himself. This family thing is pretty great. He doesn’t deserve her. Doesn’t deserve them.

Despite his injuries, he’s one lucky bastard.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels

#johnlock #wip #may prompts 2024

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delicious-in-imagines · 2 days

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Hiiiii~! Could I get some kiss hcs for kabru, mithrun, and falin?

Of course you can, hun! (Also man, the Kabru love - all three requests I've gotten have him in there!)

Kabru of Utaya

Kabru definitely seems like the type to take good care of himself, so he's definitely got soft lips, if only a little rough on the very edge of the inside from lightly chewing them.

We all know that Kabru has his eyes on everyone constantly, reading their behavior, their reactions - and that absolutely extends to you. Especially when the pair of you are locking lips.

Oh sure, it's going to start out all sweet and chaste, just a peck here and there. But, as he does so, he's always going to be taking in the way that you react to each kiss, finding each one of your weak spots before you may even realize you have them.

He's definitely a tease. He loves long, indulgent kisses, starting with a brush of his lips against your hands tucked into his own, grazing along your knuckles. He'll slowly make his way up your arm, along your shoulder, into the crook of your neck. His pace is absolutely glacial as he continues up along your jaw, and finally, once you're desperate for his lips on yours - he goes in for the kill.

Those kinds of kisses are obviously reserved for private moments between the two of you, though he isn't against a quick smooch in front of the others.

Usually these happen before setting off for the day in the form of a 'good luck' kiss, quick and chaste as can be. Holm will tease him wondering where his good luck kiss is, meanwhile Mickbell is gagging in the background like a small kid watching their parents smooch.

Spoilers for Mithrun and Falin below!

Mithrun of the House of Kerensil

Mithrun's kisses are going to depend entirely on what point in the manga that you're getting them from him.

Pre-ending, you're going to have to be the one to initiate every kiss. He feels the effects of the kiss on him, the heat pooling in his gut, the way his heart may skip a beat - but that lacking desire really makes him struggle to reciprocate. He doesn't feel the want to kiss or embrace you, even if his body reacts to the sensations.

It's something that you wil continue to struggle with through to the end, just like making sure that he eats and sleeps to his body's satisfaction. The longing in his heart that doesn't make sense in his head - only replaced by the gentle thumping in the wake of your kisses.

Post-ending is a different story entirely. His pursuit of creating new desires means that he plays a much more active part in the relationship, especially when it comes to his kisses. They're gentle, soft things, and yet carry the insistence of a man chasing after finally wanting something in over forty years.

He'll press and press and press intent on taking everything that you're willing to give in the kiss. He'll leave you gasping for breath, face flushed and heart thumping a staccato against your sternum, meanwhile he looks only the tiniest bit ruffled. Completely unfair.

His lips are almost always lightly chapped, and if you stop him before he kisses you to tell him to put some balm on, he'll come back almost immediately, which means you get to share!

He hardly cares wherever he is, or whoever he's around. When he feels that inkling that too much time has passed since he's locked lips with you, he's going to get that kiss. The Canaries will groan, whoop, and tease constantly, considering that they are usually in the front row for these lip locks. For all their reactions, each and every one of them are glad to see Mithrun beginning to return to some sort of normalcy.

Falin Touden

Before her transformation she's more of a shy kisser. You can always tell when the two of you have been doing it, because she's all disheveled and flushed in the face.

Some of her favorite kisses are when you pepper her face in gentle kisses, though she once again gets so flustered. She'll try to reciprocate, but it usually ends in the two of you bumping noses, or clicking teeth, and peals of laughter shared between the two of you.

You can always tell whenever she wants a kiss from you, because she'll sort of hover around you, wringing her hands. If you ask her if she wants a kiss, she'll give an embarrassed squeak before nodding, and leaning in to meet you half way.

After her transformation and second revival, she's a little more of a go-getter. Gone are the days of waifishly swooning while she waits for a kiss, she'll grab ahold of you by the face, smiling so wide before she plants one right on your lips. You can feel her happiness plain on her lips, and your kisses are peppered with giggles and cooing.

She'll also continue to chase the kiss, and it almost feels like she's trying to consume you from the inside of your mouth. She won't stop until you're the one pulling away, the slightly pinprick to her pupils, blush painted along her cheeks as she rests her forehead against you, waiting for you to catch your breath before going back for round 2... or 3.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi reader #delicious in dungeon reader #x reader #headcanons #hcs #dungeon meshi headcanons #delicious in dungeon headcanons #kabru of utaya #falin touden #mithrun of the house of kerensil

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dynamic-swap-au-archive · 3 days

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I'd like to offer gorillaz fans (and Potential gorillaz fans) another resource that I've spent over a year creating and perfecting.

The Gorillaz !

This playlist is, to the best of my ability, Every Single piece of gorillaz content that can be found on youtube in story order.

all of the music videos, all of the indents, all of the interviews, animations, radio shows, news specials, podcasts, audio books, tiktoks, Everything.

on top of that ! I made the decision to include select fan content! because Frankly the gorillaz fandom is unimaginably talented and creative. this includes Fully animating several music videos that were cancelled, but given to us in animatic form, original animations, animatics, and storyboards, fan visualizers and recreations of live visuals, even voice fan dubs for written material like the interviews and novels.

and more than that, with the (incredible) fan content that was available I've Also been able to flesh out the stories of each phase! a decision I made due to the plastic beach, the third album, never getting to finish the story officially (leading to the band breaking up and coming back 7 years later).

I'm so proud of what I've been able to do with it ! and even happier to share the picture I've been able to make as a whole :>

below the cut I'm going to include several other playlists that are based on this one, but made to be more digestible and less intimidating for newcomers ! as well as many other resources to fill in the gaps that this playlist can't ! (namely the written material)

thank you ! and I hope I can share something I love with all of you !

First is the simplest ! all of the music videos in order ! (plus a Few indents, because I can't help myself): [Link]

this obviously means that you lose out on quite a bit of context, as much of who the characters are as People and their relationships together are in the extra material (especially the shorts and interviews). BUT

this is the most Accessible, and also really convenient if you just want to vibe to the music. if you're not sure if you want to commit this kind of time to a cartoon band, consider checking this out! you may find yourself interested enough to learn more, or you may just have a good time and feel satisfied with what you've seen ! either way I'd be honored to have helped :>

Second, the Midpoint between these two extremes !: Phase 1-3 [Link] Phase 4-7 [Link]

these Include extra material like the shorts and animation, but Cuts Out some of the longer content like the podcasts and interviews! you can still get a pretty good idea about what happens in the story of each phase watching this, but it's not bogged down by videos that are hours long.

it'll give you a clearer picture of what's going on, include fun side content, while being less intimidating than the Full playlist. this is what I use to show my friends gorillaz !

alright, so you've got just the music videos and just the short stuff, now lets try just the Long stuff. all of the interviews, radio shows, podcasts, Etc: [Link]

maybe you've used my last playlists and now you'd like to listen to some of those long form videos you missed out on. maybe you just want to listen to these characters talk because it's Nice. either way, it's all here :> (I know, because I had to upload some of them myself)

Pirate Radio: [Link]

it's all here with One technical exception. pirate radio was the serial radio show for plastic beach/phase 3, that gave us insight into murdoc's frame of mind as a character. it Also used copywriten music. the reuploads on youtube cut the music out (likely because they wouldn't be available otherwise), while this google drive has the full unedited audio files if anyone would be interested!

this one may seem redundant, but I promise it isn't. All of the gorillaz albums in order: [Link]

this playlist (for the most part) doesn't Have any visuals, it's Only the music.

likewise, all of the music in the previous playlists are only those songs that Have visuals (official or fan made), which means not all of gorillaz's music is present! which is exactly what this is for :>

you have every album in order, filling in the gaps of what's been missed, As Well As special albums that are Associated with gorillaz, and gorillaz' guest appearances in other people's music !

now we're out of my playlists and into other resources :>

Lobotomy Pop: [Link]

this is a website that's worked for years to preserve and organize Every Single written interview gorillaz has ever done ! it's an invaluable resource and really just very cool.

it also categorizes several other things ! such as listing out all of the personal playlists the gorillaz members have put out over the years, or every profile that's ever been written for the characters ! it's very much so worth checking out as a fan.

Gorillaz Art Archive: [Link]

exactly what is says on the tin ! this is a google drive that's attempting to archive Every Single piece of official gorillaz art that was released from phase 1 in 2001, to phase 5 in 2018. it is Massive and it's such a joy to have access to

The Kong Files: [Link]

if you were wondering why the art archive stopped at 2018, this would be why ! the kong files has much the same goal, but instead picking up at phase 6 and continuing on Theoretically forever ! or at least it's kept up with all of phase 7

that said ! the kong files is attempting to document Everything relating to those phases. so all of the social media, all of the music videos, all of the written text, Everything !

I wouldn't try to Only use this for watching phase 6 and 7, but it's an Excellent resource for everything that could fall between the cracks

Rise of the Ogre on Archive dot Com: [Link]

rise of the ogre was an official novel released at the end of demon days (the second album/phase 2), that covered the entire history of the band up until that point! their backstories, how they met each other, what they'd gotten up to in the 10 years they'd known each other, and the shocking event that happened at the very end of the phase and the band's reaction to it. all leading in to plastic beach, (arguably) the Most story heavy phase of them all.

as I understand it, this novel has been out of print for a very long time and is quite expensive to buy second hand. so ! it's been scanned and uploaded here to the archive! there's actually several more scans available in the gorillaz art archive, but this is the most recent (having been uploaded just earlier this year).

Dawn of the Ogre: [Link]

dawn of the ogre is the fanmade sequel to rise of the ogre, attempting to fill in the gaps of what happened at the end of phase 3, the 7 year gap, and up to the (then) newest point of canon.

this is, of course, unofficial. so this is essentially fancy fanfiction. But it's extremely well done fanfiction that happens to be novel length, attempting to emulate the style of the original novel, and is fully illustrated. along with being available completely for free!

I'd definitely give it a shot, if you're the type of person who's already read rise of the ogre

the gorillaz wiki !: [Link]

I have no clue what the fandom thinks about it, but it was absolutely invaluable both in making my playlist, and becoming a fan at all. with all the work I've done my hope is that people won't need to go digging for themselves, but the Option is certainly always nice !

I'd Especially like to highlight this page [Link] which has transcriptions for all of the pirate radio show episodes !

I feel like there's a lot to find here :>

and of course, my own dynamic swap au archive! [Link]

if you've fallen in love with gorillaz and are desperate for more to sink your teeth into, then I couldn't recommend this enough !

keep in mind that these resources will continue updating ! as new music is created and new fan content is made! I'm keeping my eyes out on a fan project for a fully animated mv right now that I'm sure will make it to my playlists one day :>

#gorillaz #stuart pot #2d gorillaz #murdoc niccals #murdoc gorillaz #russel hobbs #russel gorillaz #noodle gorillaz #guide #it's a shame I Just missed demon day's anniversary #such is life

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thecreelhouse · 3 days

Text

accident prone

part two - I laugh often, so, I suppose, I’m gonna be fine

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!OC - Francesca “Frankie” Amato

Summary: Steve and Frankie really get to know one another, and the friendship blossoms quickly. So fast, Steve can’t keep up with his own feelings, even in the face of an emergency.

WC: 8.6k+

Includes: angst, hurt/comfort (like, a lot), internalized ableism, language, PTSD, revolving around Hawkins/the Upside Down, discussions of chronic pain/illness and disabilities, a teensy bit of fluff and flirting if you squint, medical emergencies, etc.

series playlist ⋮ masterlist

here, here and here - meg & dia

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“I’m a wanderer now, sorrow befalls me / I laugh often so, I suppose, I’m gonna be fine”

A/N: hey there! Wow. I didn’t think this would really gain any attention— this fandom seems to hate OCs (y’all’s loss tbh), but the support I got on the last chapter, though small to some major blogs, means a fuck ton to me. I don’t want to tag everyone, but thank you to whoever sent me a kind message or pep talk after posting the first part— I really am glad this is relating to others with chronic health concerns, one way or another. Even if it relates to one person, it means more than meaningless notes. Also, may 12th is Fibromyalgia Awareness Day! So, consider this my contribution lol. As previously stated, for anyone with fibro, or without, but living with a chronic illness/condition, mental and/or physical, I am sending all my love, and this is for you <3

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The next morning, Steve’s up early; if he can’t push past the pain, he’ll try working with it. He refuses to let the opportunity to get to know Frankie slip away.

And the opportunity for a possible job. That’s important, too. Just… not right at this very moment.

What the hell do I wear?

He glances at the pair of glasses he’s been neglecting lately, just annoyed he needs yet another tool of assistance to help him function; his vision blurs easily these days, especially with migraines. And while it’s not severe, he’s been warned to wear the glasses to prevent further deterioration of his vision.

To Steve, it’s another reminder of how broken he feels. If this was about anyone else, he wouldn’t feel that way, but when it comes to himself, the internal ableism never ends.

Just like the day before, everything hurts terribly. It’s one of those days where even certain fabrics and elastics add to the widespread ache, and it’s not like he has to dress up, but he doesn’t want to just show up in sweats, either.

At least I don’t have to wear that ugly, stiff uniform anymore.

He opts for a well-worn, loose cardigan with a pair of jeans that he ripped at the knee years ago; the tear is conveniently over his bad knee, making it easier to wear the brace he has on his bad joint days. And today, he really needs it.

Steve also needs a boost of confidence and a way to shake his nerves; the thought of seeing Frankie again and possibly getting another job have him on edge.

Too bad there’s no medical device to assist him on that one.

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Noticing the ‘CLOSED’ sign on the door of the record shop, Steve hesitates, realizing he should’ve asked Frankie about the hours; a tiny note taped to the bottom of the sign catches his eye. “Unless your name is Steve,” is scribbled in disheveled handwriting, with a small smiley face drawn at the end.

Entering the record shop, he first sees Frankie, sitting criss-crossed on the checkout counter; her cane is laid over her lap while she’s meticulously applying stickers to the aluminum. The door’s chime goes off, and her head pops up, immediately breaking into the warm smile Steve had thought about since the last time they spoke.

“Steve!” There’s an urge within her to hop off the counter and greet him with a hug, but she holds back, reminding herself that they’re barely even friends. “Hi,” She opts for a wave instead, eyes falling to the coffees, one in each hand.

He shyly nods with a sweet smile, all bundled up in layers most folks would consider unnecessary. For him and his temperature intolerance, the obnoxious amount of warmth is very necessary.

“Hi, Frankie,” He hands her coffee over to her, in all its icy, sugary sprinkled glory. She takes it, eyes crinkling as she smiles wide. Steve can’t help teasing, “Cade’s right, you really are sick for liking iced coffee in the winter.”

Her smile flips into a comical frown before snarking, “He’s never getting that damn tape now.”

“The one about dinosaurs?”

Frankie snorts just as she takes a sip of her coffee, covering her face with her sweater bundled arm.

“Robin told me you’d say something like that.”

“… So it’s not about—“

“Steve, it’s the name of a band,” She giggles, moving her arm away from her face. Steve notices the way her sleeves cascade over her hands completely; the sweater she’s in is way too big, but with that and her flowing skirt, she looks comfortable, and warm.

“Right. I knew that!” He tries playing it off with a shrug, “They’re great.”

“You’ve never listened to them before have you?”

He laughs at the knowing smirk Frankie gives him, shaking his head, “Yeah, no, not at all.” If this was high school, he’d be trying to save face right now, to look cool, pretend he knew what he was talking about. Mid-twenties Steve is able to let it roll off his back, poke fun at himself, move on.

Plus, Steve knows this interaction wouldn’t happen at all in high school. Labels and useless popularity would keep them far, far apart. He’s alright with that; Frankie definitely didn’t need someone like ‘King Steve’ and his bullshit to deal with.

“Okay. What about Jawbreaker?”

“… The candy?”

Frankie giggles, shaking her head, before running down a list of bands off the top of her head; The Cure, Joy Division, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Strawberry Switchblade, Sonic Youth, Nirvana, the list went on. Steve says most he’s heard of, but never listened to. Some, he’s heard some of their singles on the radio.

“You’re into all that… punk stuff, right?” He’s a little lost, but he’s headed in the right direction. Frankie doesn’t tease him for it, though.

“To an embarrassing degree,” She smiles, crinkling her nose, and oh, god, Steve’s not expecting the way that sets off butterflies in his stomach. “And new wave, grunge, honestly some pop, too— oh! Dolly Parton! Just her, though, can’t get into any other country otherwise. I’m a mess when it comes to music interests.” She shrugs.

He shakes his head, shrugging his jacket off before unwinding his scarf; Frankie catches on immediately, pointing to the coat rack behind the counter.

“No… it suits you.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“O- oh, no, I meant that in a— it’s a— nice way, promise!” Frankie smirks as he stumbles over his words. “So… got any recommendations on what to start with?”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Steve. I’m gonna make you a mixtape later.” No pretentious undertone can be found in her words; Frankie’s just really excited to introduce someone to music they haven’t heard. “What do you listen to, then?”

Steve sits on the stool behind the counter while Frankie still hangs out on the countertop, kicking her legs over the side now. He watches as she continues sticker-bombing her cane; it’s got quite the variety of holographic stars sprinkled about.

“Uh…” He shrugs, tugging at the edges of his sleeves before shoving them in the pockets of his cardigan. “Whatever sounds good, I guess.”

Frankie narrows her eyes at him, “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

Steve nervously laughs as a hint of red creeps across his face.

“Okay, uh… Queen, Springsteen, some of Bowie’s stuff—“

“Some?”

“I just- I can’t get into it all!” He stammers out. Frankie dramatically sighs, throwing her head back with a hand over her forehead, pretending like she’ll faint. When she levels her gaze to him again, she gives a teasing smirk, and he carries on, red in the face. “I like U2’s last album… uh, shit. What’s it called?”

“Achtung Baby?” She’s so quick to answer in a nonchalant tone, like this is common knowledge.

“Yeah! That one.”

“Oh, you’d really get along with my dad, then,” She teases, watching Steve’s expression flatten in a playful annoyance. “That’s not a bad thing! Bring it up in your next appointment— actually, don’t. He’ll talk about it for hours.”

Steve laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger, “Alright, I’ll try to remember that.”

“Might want to write a reminder with the brain fog,” She quips, and it easily earns a chuckle; if anyone else tried to joke about his symptoms, he’d be bothered. To laugh it off with someone else equally as sick as him, though, is weirdly… cathartic. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Go on.”

“Okay, don’t make fun of me, but Blondie’s got some good stuff, too.”

“Yes!” Frankie throws her hands out excitedly. Steve admires how animated she can be.

“I like a lot of other stuff,” He’s becoming more comfortable talking about this, not as afraid of rejection. Frankie didn’t give that kind of attitude off, but he second guesses himself always these days. “But it’s just singles and stuff.”

“Gimme a list one of these days, I’ll give you some recs.” She looks up from her sticker work on her cane, warmly smiling, but it falters seconds later. “Not pushing that on you, but it might— you don’t— don’t be afraid to tell me no—“

“Frankie.” Her name comes out of Steve’s mouth like the night before, a combination of reassurance and teasing. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Dusting over her cheeks is a tint of rosy pink as her smile returns, ever so slightly. “Okay, cool.” She plucks a star sticker off the page, leaning towards Steve to stick it on his forehead. Her touch makes Steve’s heartbeat quicken, but it’s over as soon as it began. “Congrats, Steve, you’re hired.”

Brows furrowing, he doesn’t bother to remove the sticker. “What? Seriously? That was the interview?”

Frankie nods enthusiastically. “You already seemed nice, and got a good review from your best friend—“

“Seriously, what did she tell you?”

She pretends to zip her lips shut and shrugs, holding back giggles.

“I’ll get you all that boring ass paperwork later, but yeah, I’m serious.” She holds her cane out, rolling it in her hands to make sure the stars are placed the way she wants. Her tongue pokes out while she’s focused, and Steve thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world. Directing her attention back to him, she continues, “I don’t wanna work with someone I just tolerate.”

Though Steve’s flattered to find he’s more than just tolerable to her, he’s still skeptical; not of her, but how this friendship is growing so easily, so suddenly. “Frankie, we barely know each other.”

“I don’t know anyone else my age that’s disabled, and you just… you get it. I wish you didn’t, but you do. If you don’t wanna work here, no hard feelings, but I want to continue getting to know you.” Her words, her tone, even her facial expression, they’re all sincere. “If you’re up for having a new friend, that is.”

Steve nods embarrassingly fast, but he doesn’t care. “My friends get it to an extent, but I don’t have to explain shit to you, and it’s… well, I don’t want to say nice, ‘cause like you said, I wish you didn’t know what this was like, either. But it makes me feel a little less alone, I guess.” His fingers grip the edge of the stool between his legs, arms straight, as he looks away shyly. “And I- I’d like to make you feel a little less alone too— jesus, that makes me sound like a douche. You get what I mean, right?”

“I get you, Steve, don’t worry,” Frankie picks up her coffee, holding it out to Steve. It takes a few seconds, but he catches on, grabbing his own coffee to hold out to her. “To a sick friendship. Get it. Sick? ‘Cause we’re both—“

Steve knocks his cup against hers, smirking, “Yikes, I thought my humor was corny.”

“Fine, no more jokes at all, then.” She deadpans, but her expression immediately cracks, breaking into a laugh, one that scrunches her nose and crinkles the edges of her eyes. It’s contagious, pulling Steve into her fit of laughter, too. “Yeah, I got a good feeling about you, Steve.”

“Huh? Like what?”

“Oh, we’re not that far in the friendship, buddy.” She props her cane onto the floor, sliding off the counter. The proximity between her and Steve when she’s on her feet is a little too close for him to handle, breath hitching in his throat. “Gotta earn the sappy moments, man.”

With that, Frankie rounds the counter, heading towards an aisle of vinyl records. She turns back to him, “Well, you want a tour?”

Steve’s eyes widen as he scrambles off the chair, “Y- yeah, that’d be— I probably need to know where things are.” Frankie resists teasing him further, leading him around the shop.

The pair walk slowly as she points out the main sections, split into three— vinyl records, cassette tapes, and CDs.

“I still can’t get behind ‘em. They’re too flimsy for my clumsy self.” Frankie’s lips curl in a snarl as she eyes up the racks of the shiny discs, tucked away in their jewel cases.

“At least they’re not LaserDiscs,” Steve murmurs, cringing. “I hated those things.”

“Yeah, never was a fan myself,” Her brows crinkle. “They’re like frisbees.”

“But vinyl… isn’t?”

“No. And I’m not elaborating.”

“Francesca, you’re something else.”

She scoffs playfully, “Can’t believe you just called me that. You’re fired.”

“Mhm, sure.” He smirks before glancing around the shop; it’s on the smaller side, but jam-packed with nearly anything and everything music related. Beyond CDs, tapes, and records, are band shirts, Walkmans, headphones, record players, tape players and boomboxes, useless novelty items, and so on. “So, when’d you open the store?”

“Oh, I didn’t. It’s not mine, only running it for now… kinda took over when the owner had to take a sick leave.” Frankie begins leading Steve towards the back, through a worn, beaded curtain. She points to an open door, “Stockroom,” Then, to the door across the hall. “Break room.”

Steve acknowledges her directions with a nod before asking, “Oh, are they okay? Well, wait. Shit. I guess not if they’re on— my bad.”

Frankie gives him a half-smile, more for the sake of reassurance, along with an answer, “Dementia. So, uh, yeah. Probably not coming back.” A pained expression washes over Steve’s features. “The own— Mr. Fisher wanted to close the shop when his health continued declining, so I told him I’d keep it going for him. This was before the diagnosis, he just knew something was wrong and warned me he’d most likely shut down.”

“That’s… fucked.”

“Yeah. He actually lived a few floors up, now he’s in a senior living home.” She wanders into the break room, falling onto the worn couch hanging out in the heavily used space. Steve sits on the opposite side, not wanting to invade her personal space as he listens intently. “Cool dude, hired me years ago, and he was really into jazz when he was younger. Like, used to play the sax for a living. He knew nothing about punk music, but he loved asking me about it. I learned a lot about jazz from him, too.

“He was empathetic with my pain, too. The couch is back here ‘cause he felt bad I had nowhere to rest on break. Then he ended up using it more than I did.” Frankie’s a little dazed as she retells the circumstances. “I knew he’d never get better, and he knew it too, but I told him I’d love to watch over the business until he’s ready to come back. Couldn’t stand watching this place close, so… yeah. S’why I asked you.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.” It’s all Steve can come up with, but it’s genuine, and she can tell.

“I hope it doesn’t come off like I’m telling you this so you’re guilted into being here, ‘cause if you wanna find another job, don’t feel like you have to st—“

“You do that a lot,” Steve blurts out, but it’s not mean-spirited. He stammers, “N- not that— it’s not bad— sorry—-“

“And you do that a lot,” Frankie observes bluntly. “Guess we’re kinda similar in the whole ‘overly apologetic’ department, huh?”

Steve glances at her, sighing with a hint of a sad smile. “Guess we are.” He rests his head on the back of the couch, blowing air between pursed lips as his eyes fixate on the ceiling. “Anyway, you’re not guilting me. I’m staying.” Then he sits back up, narrowing his stare at her. “Unless I’m still fired.”

She sits up, shoving her hand out towards him. He grabs it as she shakes it obnoxiously, snorting, “Steve Harrington, you’re re-hired.”

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“Fibro’s just like… a bag of jellybeans.”

Steve scoffs out a laugh, lost on Frankie’s words. “I’m sorry, what?”

At the end of the day, Frankie and Steve wound up at a diner, still caught up in the excitement of getting to know a new friend.

“Y’know, it’s always a mystery over what color and flavor you end up with ‘til you get it.” Frankie begins to explain, hands on the diner’s table; Steve’s noticed she talks with her hands, a lot. She’s always so animated, even talking about the most mundane subjects. “And you might have ‘em all, but there might be more of one flavor, or another. Fibromyalgia is just a bag of symptoms, ‘cause you don’t know what’s gonna hurt that day ‘til it does— does that make sense?”

“Oh, like, I get a lot of headaches, sometimes ocular migraines— the first few times, those freaked me out, and joint pain the most, but the other symptoms still exist, too, just not as frequently.” Steve scrunches his eyes shut with a nod, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Right? Or maybe I’m way off—“

“No, that’s exactly it!

“That’s actually… a really good analogy,” He tucks the comparison away in his mind, for future use. “Wait, so you also have fibromyalgia?”

Frankie’s about to answer, until the waitress brings their milkshakes and fries to the table. Her smile over something as simple as a milkshake is contagious, and Steve finds himself grinning along with her.

“Yeah, but we found out lupus was a bigger concern,” She shares casually. “Y’know, I wouldn’t wish fibro on anyone, but I’m pissed you have to deal with it.”

Steve’s face distorts into confusion. “Why d’ya say that?”

“It’s such a fucking mess of a disability. Tests come back normal, x-rays show nothing, MRIs are clear, too— shit is so infuriating. You’re living in constant pain and most people don’t believe you. Then ya’ got these fuckin’ misogynistic doctors who see it as a “woman’s disease”— yeah, it’s more prevalent in women, but men get it too, and it’s like y’all are told to just… suck it up. “Man up”. Deal with it.

“Honestly… not sure which sucks to be told more, that you’re just “hysterical and attention seeking” for being sick as a woman, or being told you’re just a “whiny baby” if you’re sick as a man.”

Steve only stares at her; Frankie feels warm under his gaze, sinking into the booth.

“Sorry, I— you’re so spot on, I have nothing to add.” Steve’s shaking his head, fidgeting with his napkin. “But I can’t get over that someone my age fucking gets it.”

Frankie sighs, relieved to hear she wasn’t overdoing it with her rambling.

“Steve, I hate that we’re both in pain, but it’s… it’s nice not having to struggle alone, for once.” She stretches her legs under the booth, resting her boots on the cushion on Steve’s side. He mirrors her, sneakers kicking up to rest next to her. She smiles, nudging his shoe with her elbow. “Copycat.”

“You really lucked out having a dad who’s a doctor,” Steve softly chuckles, and Frankie smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Immediately, he panics he might’ve said the wrong thing. “I- I don’t mean that in a bad way—“

“No, I know you didn’t. He—” Frankie looks off, eyes fixating on the bustling traffic out the window, despite the two of them being seated in the far end of the diner. She looks back to her milkshake, swirling the straw mindlessly. “He wasn’t always a doctor. He wasn’t in the medical field at all, not ‘til I got sick as a kid.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yup. He got tired of taking me to specialists for them to always say I was being overdramatic, or “Oh, she’s a girl, she might just be faking that for attention.” I guess what I was going through made him realize shit had to change for the sake of us sick folks. I don’t know how anyone would be able to juggle a full time job, full time med school, and raising a kid on their own, but he did it. Even if shit is terrible most of the time, I’m grateful to have a dad as incredible as him.”

Steve let Frankie’s words sink in before curiosity took its hold, “He’s a single parent?”

Frankie sips from her milkshake, looking back at Steve as she sits back. “Wasn’t always, but yeah. Never met my mom, she, uh, she was sick, too. Cancer. Passed before my first birthday.”

“Jesus, Frankie… I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs, trying to let the everlasting sting roll off her back. “I heard she was really sweet, and funny. My dad showed me some home movies a few years back, and it was the first time I heard her voice. She was so pretty, and happy, and—“ She shakes her head, scoffing at herself. “God, I’m sorry for rambling.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. If you ever wanna talk about this… or anything, I might not know what to say, but I’ll always listen.”

“Right back at ya’, Steve,” She murmurs, gaze friendly before sipping her milkshake.

“I don’t think you want to know my story,” He tries shrugging it off, as if a chuckle would follow, but never does.

“I do, and I mean that.” She firmly states, locking eyes with him. “But only when you’re comfortable sharing it.”

Steve nods, “Yeah. Maybe someday. Kinda hard to even talk to my therapist still about it.”

“You’ll get there eventually. On your own terms.” Frankie can tell he’s uncomfortable, searching for a change of subject. She looks back at his legs, still next to her in the booth. “Isn’t your leg cold?” She nods to the hole in his jeans, right above his knee.

“Yeah, but I needed to wear my knee brace today.”

“I can sew loose, stretchy fabric in, and snaps to remove it, if that helps,” She slurps down the last of the milkshake. “You cool with hanging out longer?”

Steve can’t suppress the grin that graces his face.

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Frankie’s apartment is in a repurposed warehouse; a large studio, cluttered with art supplies scattered all about. An easel hangs out in the wide open room near a window, with canvasses, both finished and unfinished everywhere surrounding it. Cups and cups of paintbrushes, tubes of paint, pastels, graphite pencils and drawing pads strewn atop nearly every surface. A sewing machine rested snug in a corner of the open room.

Among it all was the kitchen and living room; down a hallway were the doors to the bathroom, and her bedroom.

After Steve changes into the sweats Frankie found for him, he enters the main room, holding the sweatpants up by the waistband awkwardly, handing his pair of jeans over to her.

“Sorry, I knew they’d be kinda big, but not that much.” She has jersey knit fabric already cut, sewing snaps to the edges. As she works, she elaborates, “I keep a buncha sizes in clothes, ‘cause my weight fluctuates all the time with flare ups.”

“That’s actually… really smart.”

“Yeah, I got tired of buying and donating the same several sizes over and over. Just easier, and cheaper, to keep ‘em all on hand.” Frankie’s zoned into the impromptu project, so Steve wanders around her apartment, stopping at the kitchen table, blanketed with multiple sketches.

“I didn’t know you could draw.” He wonders aloud, glancing over the sketch pad papers. There’s a certain style he can’t quite put his finger on with her work; for plain subjects and ideas, they’re incredible.

Steve turns to the easel with her latest work in progress. It’s a portrait of a woman weeping, holding a mask of her face that’s smiling over her real expression. It’s gorgeous work, but he feels a pang in his chest, wondering if Frankie feels this way more often than not.

“Holy shit, Frankie…” He breathes, recognizing his own struggles through the piece; how often he feels as if he needs to bury his own pain to keep everyone else comfortable. Then again, who hasn’t felt at one point or another they need to cover up how they truly feel?

“I hope that’s a good “holy shit”,” She responds as she continues sewing.

“Your work is amazing,” He’s still staring at the painting, admiring how her art style is slightly unkempt, and leans toward traditional tattoo-style art, but she makes it work somehow; some of the paint bleeds outside the lines, or speckles in random splotches, like watercolors, but it adds character. “Do you just paint as a hobby?”

“I actually had plans to become a tattoo artist, did an apprenticeship and everything,” She murmurs, loud enough for him to hear, but still weighed down with disappointment. She pulls the denim away from the sewing machine, trimming away the loose threads. “Can’t really tattoo when you’ve got unpredictable hand tremors, though. S’why the paintings are such a wreck.”

Oh.

“Shit. That’s…” Again, Steve can’t find proper words of empathy. “I’m sorry.”

Frankie finally glances over her shoulder at him, “Kinda normal for folks like us to leave behind our dreams. Mourn what our lives could’ve been, and what they used to be.”

The familiarity of surrender in her voice hits Steve hard. He might not have had the same dreams to give up to prioritize his health, but it’s still an experience similar to hers. Giving up any dreams or goals he had to accept they probably wouldn’t, couldn’t, come to life. He’s watched his life’s potential slip through his fingers, and has no way of stopping it from vanishing completely.

Mourning what your life was isn’t easy, either. Reminiscing on better health in earlier times of your existence, proof you’ll never be that happy, that healthy again— even if Steve was unhappy deep down in high school, he wishes he had the energy to still fake it.

“Yeah. Fucking sucks.” He mutters. At the same time, Frankie turns to him, holding his jeans out for him to take.

Steve glances over her handiwork, grateful to have soft fabric that’ll finally work with his knee brace, while being removable when it’s too warm out.

“On the bright side, at least you’ve got a friend who gets it now.” She’s speaking softly, with so much, too much, understanding. It helps to finally have a friend who can relate, but with that comes sharing the same emotional hardships, ones that feel endless.

Still, it’s better than navigating that all on your own.

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It’s been a handful of weeks— maybe about a month and change— since Steve’s life began to feel good again. He’s not sure how long exactly, he just knows since finding a doctor that sincerely cared for his patients, and befriending Frankie, someone his age he could finally relate to, he doesn’t care to keep track of time like a dismal countdown.

He’s not counting the days he feels like a prisoner in his own body anymore.

Timing, though, is always perfectly unfortunate when it comes to Steve’s luck, and life.

On a dull Wednesday night, he and Frankie are closing up the shop before their plans to meet up with Robin at the diner. Steve has had a muted ache in his head since the previous night, but it wasn’t enough to keep him in bed, thankfully. He took some Tylenol earlier in the day, and that helped with staving off most of the pain. Any relief he can find, he happily takes.

The sun isn’t setting as early anymore, a sign winter’s almost at its end; he’s been looking forward to spring, because this cold has done no favors to his aching joints. Until then, he’s still bundling up ridiculously to keep from violently shaking in the cold.

“Hey, Frankie?” He’s looking behind the counter, puzzled. His head feels heavy, thoughts settling in a thick fog. Pushing past it, he asks, “Have you seen my scarf?”

Frankie returns from the tiny stockroom, keys swinging lazily on her finger. “Is it the blue one?”

“No, it’s—“ Steve pauses, hands on the counter to hold himself up from a sudden bout of dizziness. He gives a weak laugh, “I can’t even remember if I wore one at all. Maybe I didn’t.”

Frankie’s quick to notice something’s not right when Steve practically white knuckles the edge of the counter; her firsthand experience with chronic illness is setting off alarms in her head.

“Steve, you should sit down—“ She rushes around to him, pushing the stool towards him. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushes him gently into the chair. “What’s going on?”

“S’blurry,” Is all he mutters to her. She lifts a hand to his forehead, and he shivers, speaking up a bit more, “You’re always cold.”

She keeps her panic to herself, and rolls her eyes with a tiny smile, pulling her hand away to reach into her bag on the floor; straightening back up with a heavily sticker-bombed water bottle, she hands it to him.

“When’d you last eat?”

Steve shrugs, weakly sipping out of the bottle. “Uh, a few hours ago, I think.” He’s struggling to stay in conversation as the vision in his one eye blurs. “Frankie, I can’t see shit out of this eye.” He points to the right side of his face, hand nearly limp.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Been hurting all day, actually,” He waves his hand in front of his own face, repeating, “Yeah I- I can’t see a damn thing out of this eye.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wasn’t a big deal ‘til now— shit—“ Steve clutches his head; everything’s too overwhelming. The lights are too bright, the buzz of electricity is too loud, and he feels nauseous. The dizziness is only growing stronger, too. Curling into himself, he doubles over, head in his hands as he leans towards his legs. “God, I hate this.”

Frankie rushes to the light switch across the room, turning off all the lights inside; the only light available is what wanders in from the city outside through the windows.

There was one crucial detail Steve left out when he confided in Frankie about his ocular migraines: the pain is so intense, it works in tandem with his anxiety, triggering flashbacks of those miserable last few years in Hawkins.

They roll through so quickly in his mind; the first time he fought off a demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan. When Steve became a personal punching bag for Billy nearly one year later, the same night he had been roped into fighting off demodogs with the kids, nearly dying multiple times before the sun rose again. The fucked up elevator in Starcourt that plummeted to an artificial hell that also nearly killed him and his friends. He could picture the fists flying at him, his honest answers for the countless times he was asked “who do you work for?” never enough for his captors.

“Stop, stop, stop—“

Frankie hears Steve whimpering while his flashbacks drag him deeper into the past.

Because who can just forget nearly dying far too many times with your friends before turning twenty? Why forget it when the past just continues to help you survive even further carnage?

His lungs burn while he recalls swimming down to the bottom of the lake, in search of the gate, only to be pulled back down after resurfacing to his friends. It’s not easy to erase the way he fought for his life once dragged into the Upside Down, especially not when the scars refuse to fade, continuing to keep the nightmare alive. Even if his scars blended into his worn, tired skin now, the proof lies in each and every person in the group. Hell, the proof is in anyone from Hawkins.

“Steve—“ Frankie’s voice breaks through to him, only for a moment, too quick to pull him out of this traumatic loop of memories.

Vecna. Stumbling upon Eddie, nearly dead, in Dustin’s arms. The “earthquake”. Max deep in a coma in the hospital. Watching the Upside Down bleed into reality on this plane of existence. The ultimate downfall of what was once his hometown— once a haven of memories, good and bad, ones that taught him life lessons, ones that he still reminisces on to this day. Leaving behind everything he loved in that shitty little town. Goodbyes with everyone as they all split their separate ways, with hopes and dreams of making the most of a new life somewhere safe.

Hawkins, Indiana was wiped off the map. Wiped from existence to keep the rest of the world safe.

Hawkins was only a memory, now.

Hawkins was gone.

“Hi, y- yeah, we need an ambulance, my friend, h- he—“

Everyone made it out alive, but what was the point when everyone was hurting badly, one way or another?

What’s the point in surviving if you continue to live in your own personal hell? He thinks, barely making out Frankie reciting the address for the record store. He blindly reaches out for her, still folded over in agony.

Instead of finding her, he finds himself slipping off the chair, hitting the cold, hard floor before abruptly losing his grip on reality.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The first thing Steve sees when his eyes weakly flutter open is Frankie. Everything is blurry, but not like before; his vision slowly comes into focus, while the edges of tunnel vision have faded away. A dim, frail smile appears on his face at her sleeping figure, curled up next to him.

Pressure in his head spreads, like there’s an ache about to begin, but it never does, held at bay. That’s when he notices the IV in his arm, prying his eyes open a little more, baffled and trying to sift through the brain fog.

Frankie stirs, eyes squinting open, but once she sees Steve’s awake, her eyes widen; she sits up too quickly, stumbling out of the chair she folded herself into, catching herself at the last minute.

“Steve—“

“Hi Frankie,” He smiles, dopey and sleepy, like he just woke up from a nap, and not a medical scare. She grabs his hand, and he blushes. Looking down at their hands clasped together, a dazed look covers his features. “Your hand’s not very cold. You okay?”

A laugh slips out of Frankie, “I think all the panic made me overheated.” Her bottom lip wobbles, despite Steve’s lips still curved up lazily, “You’re the one in the hospital bed, I should be asking you that.”

“M’fine, I feel great, actually.”

“That would be the drugs doing their job, buddy.” She’s surprised to hear herself giggle, but it rises a weak yet genuine laugh out of Steve. Her thumb softly swipes back and forth on his hand, still in hers. “You scared the hell outta me, Steve.”

His face drops, beginning to realize the severity of the situation, despite gaps of memory to recall on. “I… don’t remember anything.”

“Do you want me to tell you?”

He wordlessly nods.

“Your head hurt all day, but you didn’t tell me until a migraine started,” Frankie sighs, gently pushing his sweat-matted hair away from his eyes. “I think it was an ocular migraine, ‘cause you told me you couldn’t— well, in your exact words, you said “Frankie, I can’t see shit out of this eye”, and then it— you—”

It all floods back to Steve in a flash— his headache that rolled into a sudden, ocular migraine, making him dizzy and weak. How his right eye went blind, then everything hurt, sent him into a panic, and triggered the flashbacks.

“You fell, too, but thankfully you landed on my bag instead of the floor.” She reaches down to his forehead, just above his brow, gently sweeping a thumb across his skin. “There’s a small bruise, but could’ve been worse.”

That, he ignores. Instead, Steve’s heart drops at the thought of what Frankie might’ve heard or seen. Before he can ask, she gathers the courage to tell him.

“You we’re crying, saying ‘I wanna go home’ a- and ‘stop, stop, stop,’” Her fingers grip his hand, shaking. He squeezes back, sobering up fast from the pain medication. “You kept calling out names, calling for Robin, and I- I don’t know who else, but you sounded so hurt, Steve.”

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Frankie whispers, “oh” and grabs a handful of tissues from the side table, handing them over to him.

“I— goddammit. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s okay—“

He shakes his head, eyes falling shut; he can’t look at her right now, he feels nothing but shame.

“It’s not. It never will be. I wasn’t trying to hide anything or lie, but I- I- I—“ In the midst of his panic, he remembers the plans they had with Robin. His bloodshot eyes lock with Frankie’s teary ones. “Shit, does Robin know—“

“She’s on her way. Thankfully she stopped by instead of meeting us at the diner, right when the ambulance came. I asked if Robin wanted to go with you, but she asked if I could instead; she wanted to grab your meds and a few other things.” Frankie reassures him, but Steve can’t shake the guilt, can’t escape the embarrassment. “Robin’s really a great best friend.”

Steve rubs his eyes, nodding as his voice wavers, “Best friend I ever had. I- I’d be dead without her.”

“Give yourself some credit, man.” A familiar voice floats into the room; Frankie and Steve both look across the hospital room to find Robin, along with Eddie and Dustin trailing in behind her.

“It’s definitely that charming stubbornness to survive y’got going on,” Robin teases lightheartedly.

Frankie looks back at Steve, finding his face about to light up, but he just falls apart again. She releases his hand so Robin can hug him. Steve shakes in her grasp, while Robin murmurs “you’re okay, you’re safe”, soft enough for only Steve to hear; Frankie’s still able to catch it, though.

“Wh— what are you two doing here?”

“You picked the best time to go to the ER,” Dustin grins, trying to point out the bright side. “We were gonna surprise you at the diner, but now we get to surprise you here!” Steve’s smile wavers; he wants to be happy to see his friends again, but the sudden visit and multiple voices, louder than Frankie, makes him wince, too.

Still, he finds himself asking, “Dustin, why are you excited about that?”

“‘Cause, hospitals suck. Unless Eddie and I are in ‘em.” Dustin looks over at Frankie with a questioning, yet friendly look. “Who— oh. Are you Frankie?”

Her cheeks turn rosy while Steve groans, head falling back on the pillow.

Trying to redirect, Eddie teases, “The kid tells no lies, we’re the best free entertainment a hospital can get.” He’s shooting Steve a knowing look that earns a short-lived laugh out of him.

Now Steve knows how Max felt when she woke from her coma, when Eddie was finally stable enough to leave his room next to hers. How him and Dustin did everything they could, said whatever they could say, to crack a smile on her face.

It’s the thought that counts, he thinks, grateful to have friends who care. Steve always felt like everyone would forget him when they all left Hawkins behind. After all, he was usually the one looking out for everyone else. Putting them first. Making sure everyone was safe and sound before himself.

How relieved he was to be wrong, for once.

“How you holding up?” Dustin asks,

“Uh… I…”

All of this is overwhelming; Steve’s still trying to process what happened, was in the middle of Frankie retelling details, and now he’s on an emotional rollercoaster from a surprise visit from two friends he hadn’t seen in god knows how long.

On top of all of that, his head is one loud, startling noise or bright light away from kicking off another migraine.

Robin can tell he’s a step away from falling apart, so she jumps in to give him some breathing room. “I think… we should get snacks from the vending machine. Do either of you want anything?” Frankie shakes her head, and Steve only shrugs without an answer. “We’ll be back, ‘kay?” She backs up, gently pushing the two curly heads out of the room despite their protests; the room falls silent once again.

Steve sighs loudly, eyes shutting as he relaxes into the bed. “I love them, but I— it’s just—“

“Bad timing, I get it. There’s nothing wrong with asking for space.” Frankie assures him, then adds, “I should’ve asked too, do you need me to leave?”

“Don’t,” Steve’s cursing himself inwardly for answering so quickly. “Un- unless you wanna leave—“

“I wanna stay,” She answers at an embarrassing speed, making Steve smile. “I— I can stay overnight, if you want. But don’t feel obligated to say yes.”

“They’ll let you do that?”

“Usually, no, but I know the nurse on shift tonight, and she’s incredibly sweet. Told me already I can stay if I need to.” Frankie smirks. “One, tiny upside of being a hospital regular. Honestly, everyone’s nice here, at least who I’ve met.” She stops herself from rambling, glancing at Steve with concern. “You need anything right now?”

Steve murmurs, “No, just cold,” and releases her hand to pull the covers over himself, shivering. As he does, Frankie catches the scar around his neck while the flimsy hospital gown shifts along with him, exposing a sliver more of him than she’s seen.

He notices her stare, hand flying to his neck in a pathetic attempt to cover it; he’s quick to stammer out an excuse, “Oh that’s, uh, from— it’s actually a long story, but it’s not— it’s—“

Frankie shakes her head, reaching for Steve’s hand to squeeze softly. “You don’t have to tell me anything, not unless you’re ready and want to. Whatever your story is, Steve, it’s for you to tell on your own terms.”

Again, she watches him relax from a tensed state.

“Thank you, ‘Key.”

She smirks, “Y’know, I only let people I’m close to call me that.”

“Oh- oh, shit, I’m—“ He sits up, about to stammer out an apology, but her free hand gently stops him before pushing him back down slowly.

“That includes you.”

“Really?”

“Just one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You tell me if you’re in pain. I know that’s nearly all the time, but if you can’t come in, or can’t hang out, you tell me. Hell, if you need, you can call me if you’re home alone and just need to talk about it.” She softly demands and suggests. Steve nods; it’s only fair, especially after tonight’s scare. “Or even if you still come to work or want to keep plans, don’t be afraid to ask for what you need. I’d rather you take care of yourself than push your body past its limits.”

Steve’s mind races around for the right words to return to her, but all he can respond with is a sincere, “Thank you, Frankie.” Then he adds quickly, “All of what you just said, that applies to you too. Got it?” He tries coming off stern, playfully, of course; instead, his lips crack into a smile, but the sentiment is still true.

“Got it, Stevie,” She tries winking, but it looks more like a twitch, and the two burst into giggles. “You make it look so easy whenever you wink!”

Steve just shoots her a smooth, quick wink. In return, he gets her playful eye roll. He finds comfort and safety in the harmless teasing between one another.

Things might’ve gone to hell tonight, but at least Steve didn’t go through it alone.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

When everyone returned to the hospital room, they made sure to keep their tones quiet, soft, and Steve felt some guilt over that, but he reminded himself too that he’s lucky to have friends who accommodate his needs.

He catches Robin, Dustin, and Eddie up to speed, leaving out the gory, telling details of his flashbacks; Robin must’ve warned Dustin and Eddie to not speak about the Upside Down, for Frankie’s sake. And really, for Steve’s sake, too. After his mind ran through every event, every memory, down to the very last detail, he was exhausted. The last thing he wanted to think or talk about was Hawkins, and all the horrors it once contained.

And once proper introductions were made, Steve admired the way Dustin and Eddie automatically included Frankie into every part of the conversation, making sure she felt welcomed among them, too.

Steve needed this. He needed the distraction, needed the laughter, the inside jokes, with stories explained to Frankie to keep her in the loop. The longer the visit went on, though, the more Steve realized at some point, he’d have to explain everything to Frankie. She told him to take his time, that he wouldn’t ever need to talk about it if he wasn’t ready, but he’d rather get it out in the open sooner rather than later.

This friendship was something Steve never had with anyone else before, and he was quickly growing attached to the dynamic. He never expected to grow attached to Frankie so fast, either. Or at all.

Visiting hours end, with Dustin hugging Steve a little too tight, apologetic as he loosens his arms when Steve grumbles in pain. Dustin narrows his eyes at Steve, repeating a sentiment from the time they were stuck in the elevator in Starcourt. “If you die, I die. So don’t die.”

“Oh, we changed that one up a bit? Alright,” Robin snorts, and Dustin flips her off.

Meanwhile, Steve only shrugs. “Okay.”

“Some things never change,” Robin mutters, shaking her head.

The older two out of the trio say their goodbyes, too, with Eddie reminding in a sing-song voice, “Gonna bother you again tomorrow, Big Boy.”

“Please, for the love of—“ Steve sighs, sinking under the covers, embarrassed. “Stop calling me that.” Frankie’s lost, but still giggling over the exchanges; he points at her, “No, don’t— do not encourage his nonsense”

“Respectfully, no, I’ll never stop.” He grins while Robin shoves him out of the room. As he’s nearly out the door, he waves and shouts, “Nice meeting you, Frankie!”

Alone, yet again, Frankie bites her lip to contain her laughter, and Steve narrows a glare at her. “Oh, I can already tell you’re gonna be trouble with them.”

“Listen, it’s not my fault your friends are funny and charming.”

“They’re anything but—“

“Oh, I’m telling ‘em tomorrow you said that.”

“Where’s your proof, Amato?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Harrington.” She sticks her tongue out at him.

Laughing, his brows knit together, “I would!”

He tries to conjure a better comeback to throw her way, but his thoughts fizzle out while watching her set up the chairs into a makeshift bed.

“Frankie.”

She spins around, watching Steve lean up on his elbow. “Huh?”

“You’re not sleeping on those chairs. That’s gonna kill your neck. And your back.” Steve deadpans, pulling his glasses off to set them on the nightstand. “And every other joint in your body.”

Frankie snorts, holding her arms out, “Then where am I sleeping, Steve?”

“Up here,” He’s even surprised by his own boldness, but carries through. “With me.”

If one could hold someone’s gaze in a death grip, Frankie would be doing that right now with Steve’s stare; disbelief and skepticism floods through her thoughts.

“Unless that’s too— if you’re not comfortable—“

“Steve,” Frankie pushes past the way her round cheeks flush red, “We gotta stop second guessing ourselves like this.”

“Yeah, but I just don’t want to assume—“

“When you’re close with someone, assumptions are kind of a given. When someone gets you, it’s not offensive.” She holds the extra pillow a nurse gave her earlier to her chest. “I’m okay with it, if you are. And I’m going to assume you are, because you asked—“

“Demanded—“

Her mouth falls open at his bluntness, “Okay, Big Boy, slow down—“

“Francesca,” He groans, falling back onto the pillows, “please do not call me that.”

She laughs softly, tugging the edges of Steve’s lips into a soft smile; he’s a goner. He knows he is. He’s known for awhile now, but her laugh, her smile, solidifies it.

“Okay, Steven.”

Waving his arm out towards the uncomfortable hospital bed, he sasses, “Will you shut the hell up and get up here?”

“Didn’t know you were so bossy in bed, Steve,” Frankie waggles her brows at Steve, and while he tries rolling his eyes, his face falls back into a deep shade of red she’s been so easily able to pull out of him these days.

“Christ, Amato, do you ever sh—“

“Shut it, man. I’m moving as fast as a cripple can,” She teases, rounding the bed to climb into the empty side. Kicking her boots off, she swings her legs into the bed. There’s just enough room for her, but only if she presses against Steve by just a touch. “If this is too close—“

“It’s not—“

“Okay, well—“

“‘Key?” Steve’s voice wavers, soft and unsure of himself, despite the habitual teasing. “Can you— shit, this is stupid—“

“Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” She reassures blindly. “Ask me.”

Steve takes a deep breath, nerves seeping through the overly confident demeanor the drugs gave him. “Can you… can—“ He sighs, frustrated with himself, before blurting out, “Can you hold me?”

Frankie doesn’t answer, not verbally; already on her side, she winds her arms around Steve’s torso, hugging him lightly from behind.

“This okay? You’re comfortable?”

He just nods definitively.

“Steve… your gown is open.”

He panics, shooting up and throwing a hand behind himself to try closing the opening, until he feels Frankie shake against him with laughter.

“You’re such a— quit laughing!” Steve laughs as he tries demanding this of Frankie.

“M’sorry, it was just— the opportunity was there, I had to take it.”

He sighs, suppressing his grin, his chuckles, laying back down. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Best place to have one though, no?” Frankie settles down, snuggling closer to him; her position is certain, yet leaves room for Steve to distance himself if he wants.

He doesn’t answer with words, just tugs her arms closer around his body, her hands to his chest.

“Hey, Frankie?”

“Mhm?”

“Thank you. I know those migraines aren’t exactly life threatening, but…” He trails off, closing his eyes before admitting the truth, “They make it so… so hard to want to be alive. I’m grateful for your help. I’m sorry you had to witness that, but I— you—“ Oh, fuck it. “I didn’t expect to become so attached to our friendship, to you. But… I’m one lucky, unlucky son of a bitch to have someone in my life like you.”

Frankie feels her tears well her eyes; her and Steve are both so easily emotional— it comes with the territory of being sick on a regular basis. Who wouldn’t be? Realistically, how can you expect someone in the depths of internal and external pain to navigate this life with ease?

Neither of them are cured from the security of this friendship, but it’s reassuring to both that neither are alone in this fight against the bodies they pilot, day in, day out. No definite future for either separately, but at least they can navigate it together.

Frankie’s almost sure Steve’s asleep, so she speaks up to make sure.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She sighs, pushing her sentiment into words, solidifying the security of their friendship, at the very least.

“Whatever hell you lived through,” Her voice wavers while on the precipice of sleep, barely heard under the heart monitor’s routine beeps. “I’m glad you survived.”

He’s half asleep, heart monitor rolling to a steady crawl “M’glad I survived, too.”

#Steve Harrington x fem!oc #Steve Harrington x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #my fics #accident prone

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sotwk · 7 hours

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Social Customs and Faux Pas in Eryn Galen

Dearest Gentle Reader:

You may have heard rumors about the “dangerous” and "less wise" Silvan people of the Woodland Realm, which conjure images of these native dwellers of Greenwood the Great as uncouth, untamed, or practically bestial creatures. As the oldest and largest tribe of Eldar to continue thriving in Middle-earth even into the Third Age, they certainly started out primitive and crude compared to their High-elven kin, as was their deliberately chosen path. However, many allegations by certain scholars regarding the wildness of the Greenwood Silvans have been exaggerated, and fail to acknowledge the cultural amalgamation that occurred within the first millennium of the Second Age.

Although the Sindar who arrived and settled in Greenwood were enthroned as the ruling lords, in the reunion and mixing of the two cultures, Silvan customs and language were the ones to prevail. Many of the rigid social constructs that governed the Sindar during their old life in Doriath were set aside, departing from what is typically still deemed acceptable and refined by the western cities of High Elves and High Men.

Differences in social norms that carried through to the Third Age can perhaps be best illustrated by comparing the etiquette observed by the Numenorean descendants in the surviving Kingdom of Gondor, to that of the free-spirited Silvan Elves under Elvenking Thranduil’s rule.

Below are some examples, written as answers to specific questions asked by one dear friend and a particularly curious Gentle Reader:

Would Silvans laugh at the idea of needing a chaperone to look after an unmarried couple?

Silvans would most certainly laugh and shake their heads at the notion of a chaperone in any instance. What a most bothersome and inconvenient custom! What sort of calamity is a chaperone expected to prevent by their presence? In Eryn Galen, people of all genders, races, classes, and ages could openly or privately socialize with each other without fear of gossip or scandal.

Are Silvans just going around holding gloveless hands with each other without a care in the world?

Only soldiers and hunters are known to wear gloves, and as Silvans are fond of physical touch as a show of affection, platonic or otherwise, then it would seem the amount of prolonged hand-holding and skin touching that occurs daily in Eryn Galen would make Gondorians swoon, indeed. At this point, I will refrain from describing the other popular forms of perfectly acceptable public displays of affection, should it prove too salacious for your nerves.

Is there a socially acceptable way for them to make their intentions known (or to rebuff someone's intentions) during a dance? Or are their dances and parties so informal that they don't really compare to the regency idea of a ball at all?

Silvans absolutely love to dance, and they do so at every single community gathering and celebration. For most of the Second Age, dancing in Eryn Galen was done in groups (lines or circles) rather than with partners. Social dances and balls were not popularized until the Third Age; the marriage of Elvenking Thranduil and Queen Maereth romanticized paired dancing and introduced the concept of balls as a courtship ritual.

While dancing with someone at a ball is not automatically viewed as romantic, balls are considered more formal events, most often hosted by the Royal Family themselves. They are seen as prime opportunities for unmarried people to socialize with the likely (but not obligatory) intent of romantic courtship and marriage.

There are no hard rules or timelines to dictate how courtship is done among Silvans. However, it is greatly frowned upon for Elves (or anyone) to toy or trifle with the feelings of another, so romantic desires and intentions must be declared as soon as they are fully recognized in oneself. A ball could be a wonderful romantic setting to do this, but what is considered important is that one must look at the other person in the eye and speak their heart openly and plainly. If the affections being offered are unwelcome or unreciprocated, then it is the duty of the recipient to gently but clearly rebuff those affections. Silvans are generally unbashful about this, and any shyness they may feel is overshadowed by their sense of honor.

It must be noted that Elves never rush headlong into marriage, and thus a courtship often outlasts the lifespan of a mortal Man--even the long-lived Dunedain. Therefore, one can only conclude it is illogical to judge the customs of these two races against each other.

What would be considered scandalous behavior (by Silvans)?

Outside of marriage, Silvans would not frown or judge one another on the quantity or quality of relationships they engage in throughout their long lives. The loose or lacking restrictions against displays of affection or proper public behavior would also indicate that flirtations, dalliances, and other practices that might be deemed promiscuous in Gondor would not raise eyebrows in Eryn Galen. It should also be noted, however, that compared to the race of Men, Silvans are more likely to be bored of or disinterested in sexual liaisons and far less moved by carnal impulses. This alone drastically decreases the occurrences of "scandalous behavior" as commonly defined by puritan society.

Silvans value honor, loyalty, and service to the community above all. Strong marriages and large, happy families are considered the pride and strength of their society, and so they take the commitments to these institutions very seriously.

Once a Silvan elf chooses to marry, they are bound to much stricter codes of conduct. In Silvan culture, the vow of marriage is considered an unbreakable oath, hallowed by the Valar and binding both the fëa and hröa of two Elves together. The commitment to monogamy goes hand-in-hand with an eternal oath to love and care for all children born to or adopted by the married couple.

The highest scandal in Eryn Galen, therefore, is the betrayal of these familial oaths, either through infidelity to one's spouse or the abandonment or estrangement from one's children. Divorce and family feuds remain virtually non-existent in Eryn Galen.

How long would someone's reputation be ruined?

“Ruin” or shunning people is not really something that happens in Eryn Galen.

An immortal life is too long a time to carry a grudge, or so the wise say. But more than that, the Silvans tend to be a more forgiving and compassionate people, led by a gracious King and Queen who have deep personal experiences with the value of “second chances”. Any wrongdoing, from a minor faux pas to a blatant crime, can be pardoned as long as forgiveness is sought and the proper restitution (as dictated by law of the realm), is delivered. Once a transgression has been pardoned, it is expected for all to “forgive and forget”. Harboring ill feelings or prolonging disputes is considered vulgar and detrimental to the community.

Banishment, on the other hand, is a rare and extreme punishment issued only by the King himself. It is done to prevent an unrepentant criminal from causing further harm to the rest of the community.

Thank you to my Gentle friend @scyllas-revenge who sent in this Ask! <3 This was fun!

For more SotWK AU headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Elves HC Tag List: Tags be added in comments temporarily while Tumblr tags are malfunctioning.

#sotwk answers #sotwk headcanon #lotr #tolkien #thranduil #the hobbit #eryn galen #greenwood the great #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #silvan elves

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dizzyduck44 · 2 days

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Mad idea. Seen as they are both so insistent they are just friends, here is something no one seems to consider (not to sound condescending but it a grown up concept).

Practically everyone in Lando’s world is partnered up. Into his circle of friends comes a girl who actually enjoys the things he likes. She loves Moto GP, she knows her F1 and football. They seem to make each other laugh. Best bit she lives the same place he does.

Now Lando gets invited to a lot of events and gatherings. Especially round this time of year when Monaco seems to host everything. Three options available to him.

1. Don’t go

2. Go solo (again)

3. Take her with you. Multiple advantages. It might stop unwanted advances coming your way, it gives you someone to talk to rather than being forced into uncomfortable small talk with strangers, she will actually enjoy these things. It may even have been discussed that her being seen at these things won’t harm her career. Or as I’ve suggested before, it really does seem to get under her ex’s skin so it may be an eff you.

Lando doesn’t have to feel a third wheel to anyone. Be that dinner with Max and Pietra, hanging out with his sister and her boyfriend. Hell even being around Oscar and Lilly. The tennis, the Monaco Historic. Things his invite will have allowed plus one.

Whatever it is it’s clearly something they are both comfortable and happy with. The fact she’s not coming to race weekends tells me Lando doesn’t seem to want her around when he works. But something tells me they have a damn good laugh reading some of the “theories” about them.

Anything that goes on behind closed doors with them is this mad concept called a private life.

#lando norris #magui corceiro

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icycoldninja · 3 days

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May i request dante, vergil and nero with a gn!reader who is depressed and has negative thoughts about themselves? (You can ignore it if you feel uncomfortable with it though ^^❤️)

I'm not uncomfortable with it at all! Very comfortable, actually. In fact, I had planned to do this for some time now. Enjoy!

Sparda Boys x Depressed!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante's a man who's experienced with depression. He's been very depressed many times throughout his life, to the point that he once considered suicide.

-He knows you're in pain and wants to do his best to help you, so he introduced the coping mechanism he's most familiar with: alcohol.

-You two drink until you're both heavily drunk, then you cuddle on the couch, revealing your deepest secrets to each other. Though it's likely you won't remember much of what you said, Dante will.

-The next morning, he addresses everything you're depressed about, including your low self esteem. He reassures you, telling you you're not worthless, that you're an amazing, strong person, and that he's always going to love you.

-"Look, I know how ya feel, I really do, but you don't need to feel down. Ya know why? Cause you're a badass, capable of pushin' through anything. You can get through this no problem--and I'm gonna be here for you the entire time. I love ya, baby."

-After that, it's loving kisses and warm cuddles all the way until you fall asleep, and then more hugs and kisses until morning.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil understands your pain, remembering a time when he once thought darkly of himself because of the death of his mother.

-Vergil then decides to do something he'd never do normally: initiate physical affection.

-He scoops you into his arms and holds you, without saying a word. He tightly clasps you to his chest, running his fingers through your hair while rubbing circles into your back.

-After a little while you start confessing your worries to him, breaking down in tears in the process. Vergil holds you and listens to it all, wishing there was more he could do for you. Then an idea pops into his head: He would motivate you.

-"Do not allow yourself to be troubled by such trivial matters. There's no reason to think negatively about yourself when there is nothing negative about you. If others are to blame for your current mood, then give me their names and addresses and I will deal with them myself."

-His words really were motivating, and made you feel better very quickly. When you tried to get off him, he held you down, letting out a small grumble in the process. It seems you're going to be trapped in his arms for a while--better make the most of it.

□ Nero □

-Nero's been through his fair share of emotional crap, so it's safe to say he relates to what you're going through.

-He won't be giving you a pep talk anytime soon, but he will give you as many hugs as you want, as well as listen to anything you might want to get off your chest.

-He doesn't want you to feel like you're worthless or unimportant, or anything negative like that, so he'll be sure to pepper your face with kisses the entire time you talk to him.

-If you start to cry, he'll internally panic because he isn't the best at comforting others verbally, so he'll just squeeze you really right until you stop crying, regardless of whether it's because you're cheered up now or he's crushing your ribs.

-"Alright, I'm not the best at this, so I might sound mean, but you got nothin' to worry about, ok? You're feeling depressed for a stupid reason. I think you're awesome, and you should too. Now c'mere and lemme hold ya."

-And that's just what he does for the rest of the night, snuggling you in an effort to make you feel better.

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thalialunacy · 4 hours

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[for the @calaisreno May Prompts-all-the-Time; just a wee silly interlude today]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) 14: eavesdropping

Greg Lestrade has tried only three times, in the several aggravating years of their acquaintance, to surprise his friend Sherlock Holmes. It has yet to work, even when Sherlock was off his tit. The bastard.

But Greg has a new plan. Time has passed; he'd like to think he's learned a thing or two. And he has a new ally: Rosie Watson.

Sure, she's too small to be a super spy--yet--but she is a very excellent excuse to come round the flat.

She's undoubtedly getting spoiled, this one, as if everyone involved is trying to miraculously compensate for a lost mum, even though they know it's futile.

But also? Kids are just fun when they're little. And Greg has no issue admitting he misses those days. Especially when he can hand the kid back when the diaper needs changing. It's brilliant.

And it's nearly John's birthday, so he figures he can kill two birds with one stone. Surprising Sherlock is just a bonus, a personal challenge he lays out for himself every once in a while. To keep his mind sharp. Like sudoku, but one where the sudoku insults you afterwards.

Today, he's prepared: He's bribed Mrs Hudson with some (completely legal, thanks) CBD sweeties. He's noted which stairs squeak. He's planned it for a time he reckons Rosie will be home and awake. He knows Sherlock isn't on any case for the Yard.

Yes, there's a chance John will be at his day job, or Sherlock will be on a private case, but those are chances he just has to take.

He holds the carefully wrapped package under his arm and starts up the stairs. He can hear music, immediately recognisable as Frozen II, but not much else.

One he gets to the landing, he considers the two doors in front of him. He listens again, harder, and thinks he can hear Sherlock and John conversing under the soundtrack, and thinks they're in the sitting room.

So he just goes for it. Opens the kitchen door slow as treacle, then peeks round.

He blinks, then pulls back. Has he just seen--

He peeks around again.

Yep. Yep, he has definitely seen Sherlock and John standing in front of the fireplace, in between their well-loved chairs, and kissing like the world is theirs to command: That feeling of a new relationship, which is a bit of luck considering how long those two blokes have known each other, but…

He rubs his eyes, then goes back for one more look.

Same picture, only this time-- Sherlock, eyes closed and expression intense as he holds John's face in one hand and explores his mouth without shame, uses the other hand to make two fingers in Greg's direction behind John's back.

Greg almost laughs out loud. Instead, he leaves the gift on the landing and heads back out. There's only so much a man wants to know about his mates.

He grins to himself. New new plan: Never try to surprise Sherlock Holmes again.

#May Prompts 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #It's gonna be MAY 2024 #wee ficlet of silliness #never thought i'd be checking UK pot laws or the specific title of the second Frozen movie for fic but here we are

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abbyfmc · 23 hours

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Yandere Empress! x Emperor! Reader Headcanons:

Hello everyone, I hope you are doing well in the midst of all this unusual heat (especially those of you who are in tropical areas and countries, like me).

There is a whole section on Tumblr and other pages regarding yandere kings and emperors, and although there are things about yandere queens and empresses, I don't see that they are usually given so much prominence, so that's what I'm here to try today.

Topics to be covered: Gender roles, murder, manipulation, obsessive behaviors and everything that entails. Maybe a little masochism.

Most likely, first of all, the old gender roles are VERY marked and prominent, but that is no excuse for an empress not to be a yandere. On the contrary, she will discreetly open the doors to many possibilities.

Most likely, you met in childhood or when you were a prince. You didn't even choose her, but they chose her for you.

Maybe she didn't like you at first either, because she was forced to marry with you.

Whatever the case, she will have slowly developed obsessive feelings for you.

He will always address you with respect and affection.

If you loved her from the beginning, she will be very happy and everything will be fine.

She will clearly gladly help you govern. She would control the court and internal palaces, while you would only be in charge of political and state affairs.

And speaking of the internal court, there would probably be the imperial harem where the concubines, consorts, noble consorts, noble ladies and the first and second class assistants would be; while she is the main wife. All of them would be obliged to obey the yandere empress and would address her as "your/her highness".

Perhaps at first she does not attack the concubines or their children, and may even get along with them or at least be neutral towards them; But if she sees that they are trying to get closer to you to escalate power, overtake her or try to get your attention more than she considers safe, then she will start to act.

If she gets pregnant, she will be really very happy because she feels like she will finally have a little piece of you.

If the baby is a boy: He will internally want and beg you to make him the crown prince. She will treat him very well, with a lot of love, discipline and responsibility. *If the baby is a girl: He will take care of her with love, the same discipline and fill her with gifts and talents.

In any case, she would be a loving and responsible mother to your children.

If for some reason you prefer any other woman in the harem and her said son over the yandere empress herself and your legitimate son, then that will make her feel pressured and she will begin to act against that woman.

She will be able to pressure her children to stand out (especially if it is a prince); she would make the harem women attack each other; or, she would engineer situations in which she would cause tragedies to the consorts and concubines such as: "spontaneous" abortions, murders of women and princes, poisonings, "light" punishments, etc.; and she would do them in such a way that she would indirectly manipulate others into committing the crimes for her, and so she would never be guilty of the murders of her rivals and her son's rivals.

Maybe and just maybe she could have been a victim of palace intrigue, so she would discreetly kill people to not only have your love, but also to defend herself.

She will pretend to you that she cares about the problems of consorts and concubines.

She will appreciate ALL the gifts you give her.

She will punish all the servants who she considers do not treat you well, do not do their job well, or who simply discover their crimes for your love.

She loves when you visit her, but hates when you visit other concubines. She loves when you hug, praise and kiss her but HATES it when you do the same with others.

Does she see that a servant is VERY close to you and wants to seduce you? She will punish her with beatings to death; burning her alive or with more than thirty or forty lashes on that servant and her family.

If you notice her obsessive and strange attitudes towards you and become suspicious of her, she will feel paranoid.

If your mother, the Empress Dowager, is still alive, the Yandere Empress will take good care of her so don't worry.

When you get sick, she will take care of you personally.

If you die, even if she is the empress dowager, she will be extremely sad.

She will make beautiful birthday gifts with a lot of love just for you.

She will do ANYTHING for and for you, such as singing, dancing, accompanying you on trips, sewing clothes for you, eating with you, taking walks, etc…

If you discover her crimes and punish her, she will accept it. She will accept house arrest, kneeling for hours, slaps and even whipping; but the ONLY thing that would make her lose her sanity would be for you to demote and depose her, taking away her imperial position to put another consort of hers in her place. She would see it as a betrayal and it would drive her crazy.

-Fin.

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rin-and-jade · 3 days

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A Cup, and A Thread: A Post About System Communication

Hey, you know classic string telephone? The one made with two plastic cups and a piece of yarn, i suppose you recognize that old-school science toy? It's one of the simplest inventions that showcases how messages are sent from one place to another!

This little invention is very fitting to explain how inner communication works, so i hope today's theme of analogy will help you understand all of my messages im about to share, with a twist of a fiber.

There's a lot of things i want to address on this topic, thanks to all my 8 great friends who had helped me gather a variety of insights on what seems to be the problem, i have the answers right here that will be shared to the community, because of them!

You know what communication is?

I sure do, but let's both revise on what it means, according to Merriam-Webster, it's defined as..

"a process by which information is exchanged between individuals through a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior."

It also means "a technique for expressing ideas effectively."

..Alright, we should be in the same page now, but, do we actually know what counts as 'good' communication in system context? After some examination from the given data, it was a resounding "No." This can also mean many may not have a clear idea on it, which will also be addressed.

Okay, tell me please?

Before i do tell, remember that communication is diverse, with no perfect or right way to do so. Just like animals, where different species use unique methods to pull it off, means can systems have their own unique styles too.

There are a few examples we see in animals; like how some use pheromones to talk to its own kind, while some read off from their signature body languages, and some use tones or cues that is meant to be recognized specifically, to each their own meanings.

So, good communication means ensuring that everyone in the system can understand and receive messages effectively which eases functioning and cooperation, regardless of how frequent or indirect the communication may be.

For us, systems have unique internal methods of communication that are based on how our brains function, not having any unique features in animals. These methods are very personal, so find what works best for you.

Here are the common styles so far:

Verbal: Where you talk aloud, or in a media like notes.

Abstract vibes: Where you speak no words, which encompasses feelings, or concepts, or ideas, that can be "felt" instead of heard or seen.

Images: Where the share of messages are conveyed through memories, expressive actions or symbols that are projected in the mind.

Direct thoughts: Where an internal dialogue is present, parts communicate using this inner voice, that can vary in different accents and intonations.

The media represents a lot of the stereotypical kind, direct thoughts, while the rest are less recognized. These four kinds are not limited to, but are the ones often represented, they are equally as important and real.

It's important to note that alters within a system can have different communication styles, or the collective may share the same style. You can't force yourself to use a particular kind, so focus on practicing and mastering your style.

..But there's many problems!

Which is why it's a good idea to educate yourself and find proper solutions in order to resolve them. I know some of them at best, as there might be issues i have not heard of, though will still be shared.

Consider a clear communication between two alters with an example of both cups, connected to the string with no obstructive noise at the background while exchanging messages, one conveys the content clearly, and the other hears and received with maximum clarity/understanding. This will be our main example that will be used to compare with the problems that usually arise in this topic.

The problem with multi-talking

Now, to explain interruptions from another part would be like having an extra string-attached cup tied to the middle of the initial cup, now with two inputs and one receiver, the messages will overlap each other and become obscured.

This can be resolved by being aware, then slowing down when talking and take turns between each other to avoid clashes which can easily overwhelm or confuse the receiver, or even the sender itself since losing track of thought or words can happen.

The problem with worser performance from stress

When stress happens, this can sometimes mess up your state to receive messages, imagine that outwards stressors had pulled and tugged your thread, now a bit twisted out and weak, which still can be used to communicate and hear, but now in a weaker clarity.

Because parts communicate mostly from internal ways, our brain networks are responsible to allow when activities inside (that doesn't necessarily involve system things) can happen. Just like how imagination runs in a mind that's wandering off, stress alerts you instead, snapping off from any safe or calm activities until the 'threat' is resolved.

You can gain temporary clarity by calming yourself down and bring all your focus to send your messages if any responds, if it doesn't happen, it would be best to wait it out until you naturally feel at ease once more, or solve the issue at hand and try again afterwards.

This may not work when you are in a fight or flight response, if you do got cutted off and need to contact anyone from inside, try using strong triggers to probe a response.

The problem with ineffective communication

It is like talking to a part who uses a rubber strand instead of cotton string as its mediator. Threads can conduct finer vibrations that can preserve the original verbal message, while rubber can represent for those who use vibes, as they're more broad and less specific. So if they attempt to talk to you with rubber, you might not receive it's message well,

This can be solved with having another part that are flexible or able to decipher, or find the middle ground where both can exchange better. (e.g. texts)

The problem of talking outside your subgroup

This is where it gets tricky, because there is a notable difference in communication where it's easier to converse inside your group while it's harder to converse outside of your group. What i mean by group is they are the people you meet and talk the most and have easy time communicating.

Imagine that the same group has the same length of the thread, the shorter, the better it retains or transfers message with no effort. Talking outside of your group would require you an extra pair of string telephone, but this time the thread is long as you're talking to another neighboring group, who isn't directly related with you.

Suggestions varies from trying different medias to contact with and see what works best, or rely on someone who have direct relations with the group you mean to interact with, acting as a bridge. Lowering barriers by consenting to get closer in co-conscious might do the trick too. Long term solution would be building ties to strengthen communication. (can also work with layers, better if you can 'travel' there to get direct interactions)

The problem with front and innerworld disconnection

It is normal to be out of contact from the inside when you're fronting, since this would mean you put down the cup to focus doing task or role job. To remedy this, try finding a moment to sit down or close your eyes, and feel yourself going back to your mind, since in order to contact those inside, you must lightly disconnect from the real world to focus better inwards.

The problem with having aphantasia

As if you heard the noise from the cup, but you're not sure where that sound is coming from nor aware of your surroundings as this condition blinds you visually (can vary from mild to severe, blurry/vague mental images to blank respectively).

Your innerworld is still there, using visualization is one way to immerse in, start relying on your tactile awareness, or your 'radar' that is, since it is possible to detect parts in your proximity. Rely on tangible medias such as texting or notes to keep track of things.

The problem with external noise

Having a comorbid of something, such as ADHD, autism, or OCD can create a mental chatter that exists in the background constantly.. if not most of the time, imagine that the location of the telephone is somewhere bustling, now it is harder to tell which one is intrusive, random chatters, or an alter's voice.

There is not a lot to say except learning how to separate those noises from your people, it is done best by slowing down and voice your messages wide and clear to create a distinction from such background chatter, making it easier to differentiate.

Other conditions like depression and anxiety can also affect the clarity and ease of communicating.

The problem with distinguishing others

For those with comorbids and aphantasia, this can make it much harder, though still possible! One last problem with communication is sometimes not knowing who is who, which creates obstacles in different ways. Imagine that there are multiple cups lined up to you as the receiver, this creates difficulty on pinpointing whose speaking. Thus, having problems on replying back or made sure if the first sentence relate to the second one, or it belonged to someone else.

The only solution there is, has to be a long term one. As you're suggested to slowly collect and recognize different speech pattern, assigned vibes of other parts, when they usually reply or what topics/mentions brings them up, and different accents or tone if any.

It is not required to 'know' physical attributes or what they look like, but this one will help a ton and usually the easiest way in distinguishing who is who. The solution is to go through a trial and error (arrange all the attributes you like/feel connected to, and see what sticks) and document all the findings somewhere, incase you're forgetful/difficulty memorizing.

Special mentions

It is worth knowing that communication is greatly affected by your state of mind + physical health, the conditions you have, the maturity of the alter in communicating skills, and the style you or the collective dominantly have.

That being said, having the same role, or source, or how old or new an alter is doesn't generally affect the ease of exchanging messages.

Lastly, inner communication also obeys similar rules to how conversation works in real life, this can be taken from examples:

The proximity of the talker you're with affects how much you can understand what is being said. It makes sense that you need to focus harder to hear what the mumbles meant when they're further away from you.

Being with people you can vibe along always results in a better and more effective exchange, as you don't have to explain twice for them to get the message. (mutual understanding)

How loud the environment is also affects how focused/undisturbed you are within a conversation, and it takes effort to separate the background noise to catch what they're saying.

People also have their own ways of expressing their message, some are more dominant in body language or etc. This is why it is important to recognize and understand what it means. You will always have your own dominant way of socializing, but this doesn't mean you can't learn other ways, partially.

Now comprehending the concept of system communication does become easier, right? This should serve as a good framework to start building and understanding connections.

One last phone call

I hope everything i have said here has been loud and clear, if there is a problem that has not been mentioned that needs fixing, give this string telephone a tug and i'd answer your call alright?

May this post address all the things you need more than a hotline help centre and leave with full satisfaction.

If you please, i will now indulge in the whole history of telephone strings, join me if you wish! Did you know it's originally made of tin can instead of a plastic cup?

-- The next post that will be out: all about introjection. Stay tuned!

- j

#did #actually did #did community #did osdd #did system #dissociative identity disorder #sysblr #plural #system stuff #jeducates

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