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#this isn’t even the entire campaign like there’s so much to look at. god.
thiagodasilva · 9 months
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Son Heung min for Calvin Klein ✨🖤
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months
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There’s too much pressure on him.
He can’t fuck this up.
Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.
Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”
The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.
He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.
He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.
He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.
He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.
He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.
No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.
And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.
No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.
No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.
No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.
No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.
The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.
“Chill, man. Just me.”
Eddie.
“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”
Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.
“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.
Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.
His heart rate quickened.
“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”
“I don’t think you need to worry.”
As if Eddie would know.
“I’ll just head out there-“
Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.
“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“
Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.
So he does.
He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.
It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.
“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.
“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”
Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.
“Eddie.”
This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.
“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”
Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.
“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.
“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“
Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.
This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.
And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.
“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”
“I love you, too.”
Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.
“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”
Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.
“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”
“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.
“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”
“So you’ve said.”
“You have too.”
“I have, haven’t I?”
They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.
Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.
“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.
“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.
“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”
“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”
“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.
“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”
“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”
“Thank god I never liked them.”
“Never?”
“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”
“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”
“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.
“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”
“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.
“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.
“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.
“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.
Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.
Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.
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thatswhatsushesaid · 8 months
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i have been obsessing over this extremely short moment post-sunshot campaign for weeks now trying to put together a lengthier post about it, but i think the screenshots themselves arranged chronologically speak for themselves. so i will just post them and then talk about the framing, because i’m insane about it.
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just about everyone else on this side of the banquet hall within the scorching sun palace is looking towards jin guangshan as he speaks—everyone except for:
1) jin guangyao, who is staring straight ahead with a startlingly flat and resigned expression on his face, despite being seated in a position of honour beside his brother, and
2) nie huaisang, who is obviously TRYING to pay attention, but his attention keeps wandering between looking at nie mingjue, and looking at jin guangyao
(also he gets no further commentary/acknowledgement from me but look at jin zixun back there just lounging in his seat like a smug spoiled brat. ugh. step on legos forever jin zixun.)
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the camera shifts its focus while jgs keeps talking to zero in on jgy’s expression. this deliberately highlights and provides us the chance to see his expression in more detail. and it is so hard to discern what he is feeling specifically beyond “not great,” but what stands out for me is: he isn’t wearing his usual polite, customer service mask, the one he managed to keep in place both during the introductory sequence at the cloud recesses in the face of so much mockery from the jiang sect disciples.
so what is that expression? what is going on in his head that he can’t play the part that he’s perfect for years now, when he has supposedly almost achieved everything he ever dreamed of accomplishing for himself and his mother? i mean, i have my suspicions of course, because we know what is going to happen very soon.
and then—
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—the focus of this scene changes, drawing our attention away from jin guangyao towards nie huaisang where he’s seated just behind nie mingjue. because nie huaisang is not paying attention to jgs’s speech or watching his da-ge. unlike everyone else in this banquet hall in this moment, nie huaisang is looking at jin guangyao, observing him in this moment where his polite mien has failed him, and god what i wouldn’t give to know what is going through his head!! because:
1) i don’t for a moment believe nmj told nhs the details of what transpired between him and jgy during their confrontation in the scorching sun palace. i don’t think he did this as a favour to jgy or to lxc, either. imo this decision would be consistent with nmj shutting down any discussion of what caused him to exile meng yao from the unclean realm back in… uhhh, episode 10?? when nhs, wwx and jc all converge in the unclean realm throne room to ask about meng yao’s fate. (yeah it was episode 10.) anyway for all we know this is the first time nhs has seen his old body guard/babysitter since he watched meng yao totter feebly into the wild blue yonder all those months ago, and now here he is seated in a place of honour between jin zixuan and his da-ge, looking perhaps even more miserable than he did while bleeding from a giant sword wound in his chest. it is entirely consistent with nhs’s character to be like ‘???? what is up with this??’ but not even he is bold enough to ask jgy what is up in the middle of this banquet, not with da-ge right there.
2) his expression is ALSO harder to read than it would have been when they were last together!! but there are clearly gears and cogs shifting and ticking and whirring behind his eyes, and the fact that the framing calls attention to nhs noticing jgy in this moment when it’s quite clear no one else does is one of many hints the show is dropping for us that nhs is more than just a lackadaisical and absent-minded second son. he notices things that no one else does—but, as with jgy, we are left to guessing as to what he is thinking, and what conclusions he is drawing.
well okay it looks like i managed to write a lot of words down about this after all!! go me.
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shorthaltsjester · 9 months
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honestly as someone who has been in various fandoms for a long time now and who also watched campaigns 1 and 2 without really getting into cr fandom it isn’t Shocking but it is annoying how often people will look at the stories that cr tells and make absolute claims about the goodness of characters (goodness here meaning Moral goodness, not I Like This character and think it’s well made goodness, which is a separate post entirely). particularly regarding the gods and pc parents. and honestly like, typically in fandom i get annoyed by people bending over backwards to woobify characters who are active in their choice to be unkind and generally horrible but in the cr fandom it’s tended to be the opposite where like. a character is just. a human being (in the sense of being Average not in the sense of Fantasy Races) and huge swaths of the fandom act like that’s the most unforgivable thing someone can be. and maybe it is, but one of the most powerful things about fiction is that it tends to encourage people to expand their empathy and exercise their ability to forgive. because fictional characters, no matter how much people like to project onto them, tend not to cause anyone harm, so it’s easier to learn how to forgive and accept things you don’t understand without also villainizing them.
this is mostly prompted by the recent 4sd and the fact that matt’s response to what’s up with the dawnfather was a very insistent “He’s not bad!” and also seeing the online reaction to the mention that the matron would punish vax for saving keyleth that has taken the as usual completely bonkers tune that the raven queen (Who When Met With A Brother Asking A God To Kill Him In Favour Of His Sister, Gave Him A Job, and Later Extended His Natural Life To Help Protect The World And Have More Time With His Family And Allowed Him To Visit His Sister On Her Wedding Day) is a horrible evil abusive bitch of a god. like. can we grow up? can we understand the world and fiction that represents the multitudes of experiences found in it in shades of grey? is that too much to ask (i know it is).
but also specifically the like Extremely Adamant way that both matt and laura were like no no no no relvin isn’t Horirble he’s average. he’s not good he’s just. he’s A father, not a good or bad one. and on the surface it’s hilarious that they’re both so like. enthused to point out that he’s Average because typically when people respond to a claim of a characters badness with the level of immediacy they both did it’s a rebuttal of “no, this character is good actually.” but it was just to affirm that relvin did harm imogen, but not because there’s some aspect of his character that is inherently cruel or especially Bad. and like. yeah actually. yeah you should react like that to a claim that this average person who Has hurt someone, the way that nearly every single person has hurt someone in a way they cannot repair, with immediacy to say this person is a Person and thus imperfect and capable of great harm, but that isn’t some all encompassing judgment on their morality or capability to also do good or be fine.
anyway this is kinda just a rant post but also is just me saying i’m very grateful that when surrounded by a fandom that tends to paint characters as Good or Bad and even while using a game that can encourage that with its alignment system, cr has always told stories that see goodness as a persistent choice that might sometimes falter and that can be chosen even after a lifetime of Badness. i can’t remember exactly what the quote was so forgive me if it’s incorrect but when jester is talking to caleb after he claims he’s not a very good person and she says “good people do bad things sometimes. even bad people do good things.” that’s it! that’s one of the most consistent themes across campaigns. and yet.
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pawthorn · 1 year
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So, I’m now seeing takes that the Princesses in Neverafter actually have a good point, and after we just went through this with Asmodeus in Calamity and Ludinus in Critical Role, I gotta say…
There’s a difference between being sympathetic and ethical.
There’s a difference between being sympathetic and ethical.
Asmodeus was sympathetic. He was also a murderous, manipulative, hate-filled liar who wanted to destroy every mortal in Exandria.
Ludinus is sympathetic. He brings up reasonable questions about the worthiness of the gods. But he has also been the benefactor of the suffering of others, of children under the protection of the Assembly under his protection, for years. He stole items of extreme cultural importance to the Kryn, propagated misinformation about them, and was the catalyst of war with them. He is the ultimate force behind almost every murder and act of violence in Campaign 3. He is not right.
The Princesses are sympathetic, but their goal is to destroy everyone and everything. The same as Null in The Unsleeping City, Volume 2, in fact, yet I didn’t see much sympathy for Null, or for Tony Simos for that matter.
And I wonder if people fall into siding with these villains because of the Marvel villain paradox.
Because Marvel saw people’s response to Killmonger in Black Panther and decided to make every villain sympathetic. But a key to Killmonger's appeal was that he was cleverly written, sympathetic while still being incredibly violent, carrying the violent teachings of the CIA and applying them to the entire world. And T’Challa’s response to Killmonger was not to reinforce the status quo at the movie’s end, but to tell those that came before that they were wrong and take steps to make real change.
This is contrasted by the Marvel villains who come after, who are sympathetic, care-giving to their communities, revolutionary, but whoopsy, they do some murders (often completely out of character) so the hero stops them and says something about change while restoring the status quo.
Which is frustrating and lazy writing and not what’s going on in these actual play shows.
Ludinus has been rotten from the start. We know the kind of person he is from his previous actions. And we know that, like most power-hungry people, he’s a huge hypocrite. Because the change he wants to see, where the gods can’t directly influence people at their whims? We’re already there. The gods are behind the Divine Gate. The Calamity is over. They cannot strike cities from the sky any longer. His brighter tomorrow is a lie, and his true goals are known only to him. (Also even if his goal was as he said, it’s a nuclear option, and things like that always affect the powerless and oppressed more than they ever affect the most powerful.)
The Princesses are also hypocrites. They lament their lack of agency, but they steal that agency from others. They always intended to kill the Snow Queen. They lied about their motives to the Baba Yaga, to their allies, until they had Rosamund alone. They stole the Book from Tim before the party did anything to disrupt or harm them. And if you don’t think that choosing non-existence for every being in the multiverse isn’t a breach of agency, I don’t know what to say to you.
And, unlike the Marvel heroes, Destiny’s Children specifically do not want to maintain the status quo. They’ve looked at the Fairies and the Princesses, and chosen not to side with either. It’s not as simple as one faction being right, though I know that would be comforting.
Anyway, I’m excited for what’s to come in both stories. I’m eager to see Ludinus’ real motives, and to see the third path that Destiny’s Children make for themselves.
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cazperx-x · 2 years
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Hello there!!! May I request a suuuper fluffy piece for Gareth? Maybe where you’ve been friends since you were little, and you both love each other but think the other doesn’t (so cliche I know but it makes my heart happy) and the hellfire boys are tired of it so they do their best to get y’all together and adorable-ness ensues? If possible, thank you so much!! 💕💕💕
Thanks so much for the request!
Honeysuckle
Gareth Emerson x Fem!reader
Summary is basically the request
1.3k words
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕🥁💀💀🥁💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
"So close! Try again!" You giggled as Gareth missed for what had to be the 100th time. 
It was lunch, and Gareth had been trying to throw a tater-tot in your mouth the entire time. The rest of the table was audibly groaning, and Mike had a very readable look of disgust on his face. 
"Are you sure they're not dating and just very, very bad at hiding it?" Dustin whispered to Eddie. 
"Sadly, I'm sure. "
"Are we gonna do anything about it?" Lucas questioned. 
"Please do something, I don't think I can watch this for much longer without vomiting," Mike muttered.
"You're right. Freshmen, it's time to get the childhood best friends together once and for all." Eddie smirked. 
“God they’re such a cliché,” 
~~~~~~~
The boys spent the rest of the week trying to get you and Gareth together, like sticking notes in you or Gareth’s lockers (turns out you two already did that) and saying it was from the other or making comments whenever Gareth called you a pet name. 
“What's up buttercup?”
“Buttercup? Doesn’t that sound like something a boyfriend would call a girlfriend?”
“Shut up Lucas.”
It got to the point where Eddie even got your friends outside of Hellfire involved. 
“Look, Y/n, all I’m saying is I see the way he looks at you. And c’mon, he calls you stuff like “Honeysuckle” and “Lovebug” Isn’t it obvious?” 
“Since when have you been one to play matchmaker Alex?” 
“Whatever. Just saying.”
None of their tactics were working, so by the end of the week, the boys devised a much more straightforward plan.
~~~~~~~
You worked at the local arcade, right next to family video.
Just before your shift ended, a familiar boy ran in, out of breath. 
"Wheeler? Did you run all the way here?" You chuckled. 
"L/n! Uhh, yes actually. Last minute change. There's a hellfire campaign starting tonight that we need you to sub for because Lucas had a last-minute basketball thing. It starts at 8 pm." Mike practically wheezed, still out of breath. 
" ’Kay, I’ll be there. But you realize you could've just called right-?"
"...Shit."
~~~~~~~~~
You walked up to the clubroom, only to see a giddy Eddie, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas waiting outside the room. 
"Hi! Are we supposed to go into the clubroom or..?" You questioned, feeling as though something was off.
"It's a common tradition that the Dungeon Master enters the room last." Dustin quickly explained. 
"Well, then why are you guys out here-?"
"Eddie gets lonely out here," Lucas said, patting Eddie on the shoulder. "So we wait with him."
"Yep," Eddie said through gritted teeth. 
"Lucas? Wait if you're here who am I subbing for?"
"Just get in the room." Mike practically screamed, before pushing you in. 
You stumbled into the room, which as far as you knew was not set up for a DnD game. There were light candles, dim lighting, rose petals sprinkled on the table and floor, and... Gareth. 
"Helloo?" You awkwardly asked more than said, which made Gareth jump. 
"Oh hey!" he waved before his eyes widened. "I-I see how this might look, and I promise I didn't set any of this up. Mike shoved me in here and locked the door. I mean we're just best friends! Nothing romantic." Gareth quickly explained, his voice uneasy.
“Oh yeah. O-of course.” 
Soon you heard the door click and realized you’d both been locked in. 
“ L/n, Gareth has something to tell you. Something verryyy important.” Eddie shouted, emphasizing the word very.
You quickly turned to Gareth, whose face was bright red. “I-I don’t know what Eddie’s talking about.” He stuttered out before practically running to the door and banging on it. 
"What the fuck are you doing Munson?" 
“Sorry Gareth, this doors not unlocking until you tell L/n what's been bugging youuu.” Eddie said in a sing-song tone. “Oh, and I'm sure L/n'll have something pleasant to say about it. Now I’m taking the freshmen for a drive, by the time we get back you better have told each other what you need to.”
Gareth groaned and fell against the door as you both heard footsteps walking away. There were a few minutes of comfortable silence as you walked around the clubroom and Gareth just sat by the door with his head in his hands. 
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, your heart was beating a mile a minute. You and Gareth had been best friends since you were both six when he was trying to skateboard and nearly crashed into you while you were biking. 
“Watch it, nerd!”
“Sorry, princess.”
“I’m not a princess, nerd.”
“Oh yeah? Then what are you and why are you riding a pretty pink bike?”
“I’m Y/n L/n. And this is a hand-me-down from my sister.”
“ I’m Gareth Emerson. I got this skateboard for Christmas.”
"Well you need to keep practicing buddy."
"I bet I'm better than you!"
"Let me see the skateboard, nerd."
You couldn't help but smile to yourself while thinking of the day you two met, and other childhood memories. When you skipped school to goof off at the arcade, all the sleepovers, or that one time you slipped down a muddy trench during an especially rainy spring and Gareth found you in the pouring rain and helped you home. You figured that was the day you fell in love. Your parents didn’t even notice you were gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You'd been zoned out for who knows how long, trapped in the clubroom for even longer.
“Helllooo? Princess?” Gareth’s voice was soft, snapping you out of your thoughts. 
“Augh, I told you to stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes.
“Did you even hear what I said?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I asked why your smile is so pretty,” he said matter of factly like there was no doubt about it.
“W-what?” You stuttered, his sudden complement catching you off guard.
“Why is your smile so pretty?” Gareth tilted his head like a dog while giving you puppy dog eyes. God that man was the human embodiment of a golden retriever. 
The most you could do was shrug before burying your head in your hands, afraid you were blushing. 
“I’m sorry.” Gareth’s voice was barely a whisper, so quiet you were surprised you even heard it. 
You looked up to see Gareth shaking his head, looking away from you and off to the side.
“Sorry for what?”
“Everything.” 
You frowned and walked over to him, sitting down beside him. 
“Well, what’s everything?”
“All this.” He motioned to the room. “Promise?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Promise what?”
“You’ll still want to be my friend after this? After the shocking news I'm about to reveal?”
You giggled and nodded. “I’ll never not want to be your friend Gareth Emerson. Promise”
“Okay, good cause I’ve like… had the biggest crush on you since we were eight.” When the words were out of his mouth, Gareth brace himself as if he was expecting something catastrophic to happen, or you to slap him. 
Instead, you smiled and cupped his face in your hands. 
“Can I kiss you?”
Gareth nodded, his face turning a light shade of pink. 
You softly pressed your lips against his, and he moved you closer. 
Close. This was as close as you'd ever gotten. And as close as you wanted to be, yet still not enough. 
Gareth pulled away, a big goofy grin on his face. 
“Well, you have me beat Emerson.” You giggled. 
“Hm?”
“I think I’ve had a crush on you since the trench incident which was when we were…” you trailed off, trying to remember the exact age. 
“Ten.” Gareth quickly finished the sentence for you.
“Yeah, yeah ten.”
“So that means I win by two years.” He smugly declared. 
You rolled your eyes with a grin and shook your head. 
“Can I sit in your lap?”
Gareth acted like he was thinking about it for a moment. “Sorry, lap privileges are reserved for my gorgeous girlfriend.” He teased. 
You pouted, crossing your arms. 
“I could be your girlfriend.”
“I’d love that.” 
“...Can I sit in your lap now?”
Gareth chuckled, before patting his lap and putting his arms out. “Come here honeysuckle.”
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youmakemyhearthowl · 2 years
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Punk Princess
Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 (Next Part)
Gareth was so tired.
He loved Eddie, really he did, the dude was his other half, but god he could be so dense sometimes it made Gareth want to slam his head into a wall, repeatedly . 
Eddie had been acting like everything was fine for a week now, and he never really thought of his best friend as stupid before, but here he was, mumbling the sentiment to himself multiple times a day when he’d watch Eddie try to interact with Steve. Even he knew the apology Eddie had given wasn’t enough for the way he’d treated Steve. He could understand why Eddie might have, in the beginning. They had been friends so long that just an ‘I’m sorry’ covered all the biases when they fought, for every one of the Hellfire members. But that only happens when you’ve solidified a friendship over a decade and knew each other since before you were potty trained.
Steve was new to their dynamic. Hell, Steve was new to being who he was now, and Eddie had practically told him he wasn’t who, even Gareth could see, he was trying so hard to be now. 
People who weren’t weird, or punk, didn’t blossom the way Steve had in his new identity. 
Any idiot could see that this was the real Steve, the Steve he was too afraid to be in the past. Gareth thought for sure Eddie had known that too, but the absolute shit show the campaign session had been today just goes to show that his best friend was in fact, an idiot.
Gareth was already lighting a joint in the back of Eddie’s van when he came stumbling up and threw the back doors open, reaching for the joint with grabby hands as soon as his eyes landed on it. Sighing out the smoke in his lungs Gareth offered it to him and watched as shaking hands brought the joint up and took a long hit.
The lull of silence that followed didn’t really bother him, Eddie was loud unless he was trying to collect his thoughts, so he sat patiently waiting for him to get them organized enough to form sentences. 
“I fucked up really badly with Steve.” Gareth huffs, taking the joint back form Eddie and hitting it while he waits for him to elaborate. "I didn’t really think about what I was saying when I ripped into him, and if I’m being totally honest I don’t remember much of what I had said, but Robin was… angry enough to bring it to my attention.” He clambers into the back of the van, pulling the doors shut and settling in across from Gareth, chewing on the bed of his thumb nail.
“How do I fix it Gareth? It’s been a week I don’t… I don’t know how to apologize for this. Why didn’t he say anything sooner?” Gareth could visibly see the anguish on Eddie’s face, his entire body shrinking in on itself, becoming smaller.
“Probably for the same reason he let you get away with the bullshit apology in the first place.” He hands the joint back, placing his hand on Eddie's knee. “He cares about you and wants you in his life, in any way you’ll give him.”  Eddie freezes at that, taking another long pull and holding it before breathing the smoke out loudly, pulling at his hair, unshed tears giving a glassy look to his soft eyes.
“So how do I fix it, Gar? I’m not.. I’m not good at this kind of thing. It’s easy with you and the guys.”
“Yeah, it is. But Steve isn’t one of the guys, and I know you don’t want him to be just one of the guys either. You guys have an insane connection Eddie. I’ve never really seen anything like it before, and you’ve put a massive rip in it. So you’re gonna need to do something from the heart, with feeling, to fix it.” Eddie pulls at his hair again, chewing his lip while he thinks. And he’s smart. Gareth knows he’s smart, knows he can figure this out if he’s given the space, so he sits quietly, waiting for Eddie to find his footing.
“Robin said me calling him Princess was his honorific from me.” He’s thinking out loud now, Gareth knows he doesn’t have to answer whatever he’s saying, so he nods softly, watching every gear turning in his best friend's head.
“So, maybe I should apologize in… in that language.” 
Gareth had no idea what that means, he’s not well versed in whatever ‘language’ had honorifics in it, but he does know that a lot of Eddie’s personality is spoken in that language, that its an important language to speak between two people that requires a very powerful kind of trust, so he knows Eddies on the right path to a real apology that Steve will understand is from the heart.
“Gareth, what if I’ve ruined everything?” And it’s the way he says it, like they’re 8 again and Eddie yelled at Wayne that he wasn’t his real dad and Eddie was terrified that Wayne was going to hate him forever and never want to see him again.
Gareth's heart aches. 
“If you mean it, and you really show that you mean it, I think he’ll forgive you a lot easier than you think.”  He watches as Eddie takes one last hit off the joint before snuffing it out. His shoulders squaring and a determined nod shaking his whole body.
“What would I do without you man?”
“Probably die.”
Eddies echoing laugh makes his heart feel full and warm, light washing the van from the very presence of it in the space. He’ll never get tired of hearing it.
(Sorry this one is short, but It's so important, and I wanted to show Gareth and Eddies dynamic a little closer.
The apology is next, and its gonna be so worth the wait.
I'm probably going to be going to an every other day update schedule so I don't catch up to myself on what I've already written. But if you want sneak peaks at the chapters the day before, follow my Tik Tok,(same username as here) and you can see little snippets of the chapters the day before.
My chapters are going to be getting longer I think from here on out. Thank you guys so much for all the love you've been showing this fic. There's still plenty left of it and I can't wait for you to see where it goes <3
Love you guys <3)
Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 (Next Part)
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theoreticslut · 2 years
Text
「 bruised body, broken heart 」
gareth emerson x fem reader
summary: your best friend gets worried, and rightfully so, when you ignore him the day after you have a date with someone else.
requested: yes
word count: 1.7k
warnings: implied jealousy, mentions of physical assault, mentions of bruising, crying, worried gareth & hellfire, brief mention of hospital visits
a/n: uhm...so i got a little carried away with this. it was supposed to be 700 words or less, and its obviously not. i think it's pretty cute though, & it was extremely fun writing for a different character than who i normally do. quick note: the nickname i use for him i've been pronouncing as 'gair' - kind of like how you'd say gary, but without the 'y.' anyways, i hope you enjoy this!! Xx
p.s. if anyone wants to talk about this fic with me pls do bc it gave me so many thoughts
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“Have fun on your date. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With Gareth's words echoing around your head, you can’t help but wince and curl in even further on yourself as you sit on the floor of your bathroom. You sure had a lot of fun. That is if getting ambushed by said date and his douchey friends can be considered fun.
You should have known that someone like Ryan James wouldn’t have asked you out on a date and seriously meant it. Yet you let your hope delude you, and you are certainly paying for it.
There’s no way you can show up to school all bruised like this, but there’s also no way your parents are going to let you stay home. Not when they didn’t know about your date and won’t know about how shitty it was.
Gareth is going to lose it when he sees what happened. That thought alone is enough to make your heart ache with guilt.  He’s your best friend, has been for nearly your entire lives, and he didn’t want you to go. He didn’t want you going on that date and you ignored him. 
You should have just listened to him. Surely he had a better idea of what they were planning than you did.
~.~
Gareth hasn’t been able to sit still at all today. Not when he’s been worried about you from the moment he got to school.
You would always greet him with a smile and tight hug at your locker before first period. It was just something you did, but you were nowhere to be seen today. 
It’s bad enough that he doesn’t share any classes with you, but his anxiety only skyrocketed when you failed to show up for lunch as well. He had asked the guys, of course, if they had seen you, but he was slightly hoping they would all say no.
Although the thought of you not being at school at all worried him, it didn’t worry him nearly as much as the thought of you avoiding him which is what his brain jumped to when Jeff said that he’d seen you in the few classes the two of you share. 
“Well is she okay? It’s not normal for her to ignore me.” He had asked, his heart racing and sinking to his stomach all at the same time.
“As far as I could tell.”
While Jeff’s vague reassurance helped slightly, Gareth still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. You don’t ignore him. Not for anything, so something has to be wrong. He just needs to figure out what.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t take him long to figure out. Not when you hurriedly walk into the club room right at 3:15 for tonight’s campaign, sporting a black eye.
“Oh my god! What happened to you?” Gareth exclaims, not hesitating even a second to cling to your side.
“I’m fine, Gar. Please.”
“Please what, y/n? I haven’t seen you all day, and now you try to sneak into the club with a black eye? What happened?” 
“Gareth.” Eddie sighs, trying to get his friend to calm down. 
It’s obvious how he feels about you, and that he’s worried, but his demanding tone isn’t going to help anything. 
“Calm down, man. You don’t need to interrogate her.”
“Calm down?! Just look at her, Eddie! She’s covered in bruises, and you’re telling me to calm down?”
“Gareth, please. I’m fine, I promise.” You beg, already uncomfortable with how much of a scene he’s created.
“You’re not, and we both know it. You didn’t suddenly get into a fight, did you?”
Shaking your head, you really hope he’ll drop the topic. You knew he’d be upset, but you were hoping you could hide it long enough to get through hellfire.
“Then what happened?”
“It wasn’t your date was it?” He questions, voice softer than it had been, however when you fail to respond any, he starts to get upset again.
“Y/n, please tell me it wasn’t your date that did this to you.”
You can feel all the guys’ eyes on you which only makes you curl in on yourself again. With being the only girl in the club, all of the boys have become rather protective of you. Hearing that a date did this to you? None of them can blame Gareth for his boiling blood.
“N-not just him,” you mumble before your thoughts start tumbling out of your mouth without you even realizing what you’re saying.
“…but it was my own fault for even going on the stupid date and I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”
At your outburst, Gareth finds himself stunned, expression shifting from bubbling anger to confusion. You’re sorry? Why would you be sorry?
That’s when the reality of the situation settles in his mind - you went on your date last night and he, and apparently others, attacked you. They attacked and hurt you. 
“Y/n. Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, peanut. Why’re you sorry?” He questions, tenderly holding your arms as he shifts into comforting mode.
Although he wants to beat the living shit out of the guys that hurt you, that’s not what he needs to worry about right now. Not when you’ve got tears falling over your cheeks and you struggle to catch your breath.
“What do you have to be sorry for, peanut?”
“You…You didn’t want me going o-on the date. I-I should have listened, Gar.” 
“Hey. Hey, I don’t care about that anymore, y/n. Just wanna know you’re okay, peanut.”
“Are you okay?” He reiterates after a moment of you catching your breath and sniffling.
All of the guys watch with bated breaths as you shake your head, your bottom lip pouted out as you refuse to make eye contact with anyone. Gareth is still carefully holding you by your biceps, keeping you from turning away from him, but he desperately wants you to look at him.
“You’re not okay?”
“I hurt…a lot.” You sigh, beginning to fidget with your fingers.
“Where?”
“Everywhere...I really didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. Hurt too much.” 
“Then why did you, babe?” He questions, not even registering the pet name that slipped from his lips.
He’s too worried about you right now that he's not thinking straight, and the rest of the guys know it. You don’t, but they certainly do.
“You know my parents wouldn’t let me stay home unless I was actually dying.” You nearly whine, being too tired and sore to care. 
The only thing you want to do right now is lay down somewhere comfy and let Gareth hold you, even if you aren’t super physical with each other on any normal day.
“Yeah, I know. Do they even know about this, peanut?” 
As he watches you shake your head, he can’t help but let out a heavy sigh. You are going to be the death of him one of these days, he’s sure of it. However, he’s pretty sure he signed up for that risk the moment he became friends with you - long before he ever started to fall for you. 
“Where else are you bruised? Can you show me? Need to know whether or not we need to make a detour to the hospital.” He teases, trying to make you feel less uncomfortable. 
“Might not be a bad idea, Gar. They were…they weren’t too nice.” 
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Th-this one hurts the most.” You admit, placing a hand over the right side of your torso.”
“Can I see?” Gareth questions, voice soft as he reaches for the hem of your shirt.
At his question you finally look up, glancing around the room before settling on his face. He can’t help but notice how panicked you looked, and he worries just how bad it is. 
Although nervous, you eventually give him a short, soft nod. If anyone needs to check it out, you’d rather it be Gareth. You know he’ll be careful to not hurt you any more than you are.
You feel him slide his hand over your hip, palm warm against your bare skin as he tucks his fingers under the hem of your shirt. From there, he lets his palm just barely trail over your skin as he lifts the material, revealing your side to the group.
“Jesus Christ.”
“Shit!”
“I’m gonna-“
Even though the guys are voicing their own shock, all you focus on is Gareth’s. With him finally focused on something other than your face, you find yourself studying his.
For the first time since entering the room you take notice of just how worried he is, and you can’t help how your heart aches. Aside from worry, though, you can see a plethora of other emotions swirling in his eyes - anger, hurt, softness. 
“Y/n…peanut. This, this isn’t good.” Gareth comments, voice soft even though you would’ve expected him to shout some expletive like the others.
Nodding, you can’t help the small hitch of your breath as he gently caresses the purple center of the bruise with his thumb.
“Gareth…take her to the hospital. Get her looked at.” Eddie comments, drawing the boy’s attention from your marred side.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. You guys…?”
“We’ll hold off on the campaign until next week. This is more important.” 
“Okay. Uh, thank you.” Gareth thanks, sending Eddie a curt nod before turning back to you.
“Let’s go, yeah? We’ll make sure nothing’s too banged up, okay?”
There’s no stopping the small smile that grows on your lips as you nod, tangling your arms out in front of you as he places a hand to your hip.
He is so going to hurt whoever did this to you, but they better hope you’re not too hurt aside from the way-too-big bruises. If there’s anything seriously wrong, there’s a very good chance they’ll be making a trip to the hospital as well.
No one is going to hurt you like this - on top of toying with your emotions - and get away with it. He’s not going to let that happen. Not when you mean everything in the world to him.
--------------------------------------------
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truthdogg · 1 year
Text
This article is from 2018, but it’s extremely relevant today, because of how influential David Barton has been over the past five years since it was written. The change in tone from the right has shifted in that time as more and more of Barton’s followers have taken office and implemented his ideas.
One of the key elements of his phony mythology, for starters, is that the founders were divinely inspired evangelicals, and that they cannot be criticized whatsoever. From the article:
“It's also telling that so much of this revisionist American history is about blending Christianity with a very specific form of American (usually white) nationalism. Figures like Barton blend the idea that America is a "Christian country" with the idea that the only critiques of the Founding Fathers - that, say, they owned slaves or contributed to racial inequality - come from "politically correct" historians seeking to discredit America's great history for political ends.
“The founders double as hero-saints to Barton. Central to the idea that America was founded as a Christian nation is the idea that America was founded unproblematically; that only a return to this mythologized past will somehow solve perceived problems of structural inequality. "Real" America, in other words, is above criticism.”
This is the entire basis of DeSantis and others’ “anti-woke” and “anti-CRT” philosophy.
Further, watch out for any elected official claiming the US Constitution is divinely inspired. Whenever you hear it, you’re hearing a Barton-following Dominionist who should not hold political office.
And here the article explains just why so many Republicans are no longer hiding their complete & utter disdain for democracy itself:
“…Barton is among those who believe the ultimate goal for American government should be a Christian theocratic state, which is necessary to properly usher in the apocalyptic End Times. Dominionism takes many forms, …(n)evertheless, its fundamental principle is the same: Christians must work toward a theocratic state in which Christians are in control. Or, as current congressional candidate (and fellow Barton enthusiast) Rick Saccone said in an interview last year with Pastors Network of America, God wants Christians “who will rule with the fear of God in them, to rule over us.” ”
If you don’t recall, Saccone fortunately lost that election as well as the one after. (Thank you, Pennsylvania!) But others like him continue to win. Ron DeSantis and Ted Cruz are notable Dominionists, and even Donald Trump has publicly embraced these ideas. This worldview they share isn’t undermining their support; it’s why they have any. Republicans’ strongest supporters are with them because of these views, while so-called moderates like Mitt Romney, Adam Kinziger & others continue to lose party support. This is exactly why influential pastors like Robert Jeffress and David Jeremiah are such avid Trump campaigners, because they believe in Christian authoritarianism and believe that Trump can (and will) make it happen.
We need to be very clear about this. Today’s Republicans are mostly Barton-inspired fanatics at all levels, especially locally. This is why after Tennessee Republicans ejected Reps. Justin Jones and Justin Pearson, they were caught on tape claiming that they were personally at the forefront of a “war” for control of the nation.
Base Republicans believe this nonsense. That’s why the very next thing the Tennessee legislature did after that recording was made was vote to allow unlicensed concealed carry, because they want their soldiers armed if and when they are voted out of office. If you look at the collateral damage of their war—our now-daily mass murders—it’s easy to see what impact their belief is having. The fear and distrust these killings create serve their goals as well, as those are critical ingredients for any authoritarian regime.
If we don’t start paying attention to this poisonous religious & racist rhetoric, we will not be able to stop not only our daily violence, but the coming violence as well. January 6th is going to look like the tourist visit Republicans claim it was. This is urgent. The change in right-wing rhetoric from this 2018 article to today’s full-throated endorsement and implementation of its ideas should make that very clear.
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ravendruid · 11 months
Text
I promise.
Spoilers for Campaign 3, Episode 65. My brain wouldn't shup up about the idea of Keyleth asking Bells Hells to save Vax from the orb, so I wrote this.
It hasn’t been that long since Orym left Zephrah for the last time, maybe a few months before he joined Bells Hells. Most things look the same, but there is a new feeling of unease and uncertainty in town. People whisper and look in the direction of the odd group, and a few children stop in awe, but no one approaches them. It’s not that Orym is unknown in town. It’s just that when once he was received with smiles and thanks for his efforts and fighting alongside the Blades to protect them and their leader, now he is regarded with sorrow and, by a small group of guards that patrol, some semblance of anger. 
The halfling’s step falters when the duo standing guard outside the Tempest’s house block the group’s entrance. He says his name, reminds them of his position and gives additional information on why he must seek an audience with her, but the guards don’t budge.
“You may enter, but they need to stay out,” One of them says.
Orym looks back at his friends. They aren’t known in Zephrah and their looks alone are enough to cause unease and distrust, either because of the old gnome with a feral look in his eyes; the faun lady whose gaze twinkles at dangling earrings and semi-hidden trinkets; the gold and green rock man with purple crystal hair, not to mention whatever the fuck is happening on his head; the Aeormaton, which by itself is already a rare sight; the half-dead woman that carries a wooden bird-house as a backpack—thank the gods Paté isn’t in view; or even Imogen, who would pass as the most common of them all, but who now has purple lightning spreading from her arms to her legs (and her partially covered chest). No. Orym understands. He gives his friends an apologetic look and nods at the guards who allow him inside. 
Not many people are allowed to visit the Tempest’s personal house. An honor usually reserved for the close-knit members of town, friends and family. Orym never dwelled on what it would look like inside, but as he steps in, he takes the cozy atmosphere, the smell of a variety of plants, herbs and soil, the books strewn about, the trinkets from all her travels, and… are those children’s toys? The house itself is not too large. The kitchen and living room are one single unit, and two doors lead to what Orym assumes to be two bedrooms. Sitting on a plush couch is an older man with long grey hair and deep green eyes that he recognizes as the Tempest’s father, Korrin. Orym bows, muttering a greeting to the man, who quickly stands as he notices the halfling. Korrin waves his hand with a chuckle, dismissing the formalities. 
“I—How is she?”
Korrin’s grimace at the question makes his stomach turn. “She’s—” Korrin sighs, rubbing his face with one hand. A small tear pools in the corner of his eye. “—stubborn. She won’t let the healers do their work. She’s alive, but it’s not a pretty sight,” he warns and Orym nods. The image of Otohan slashing and cutting through the Tempest’s prone body assails him, and he can’t help but wonder if the man standing in front of him knows the entire story of what happened in Marquet.
“May I talk to her? I have some information I would like to discuss with the Tempest, but if she isn’t fully recovered, I’ll—”
Orym doesn’t finish the sentence. One of the wooden doors suddenly opens to reveal a tall woman leaning on a staff. Orym drops to his knees with a silent sob. Keyleth, the woman he swore to protect with his life, is so small in her hunched form, pale with deep red gashes all over her arms, chest, and face. Korrin was right. It isn’t a pretty sight.
“Tempest,” His eyes water at the sight. 
“Orym,” Her voice is weaker and quieter, with so much fear and insecurity.
“Keyleth, dear,” Korrin walks over and wraps an arm around his daughter. She doesn’t shoo him away. Quite the opposite, she leans into him, supporting her weight on the man. 
“I heard you say you have information,” Her voice wavers. Orym nods, finally finding the strength to rise to his feet. 
“I do, Tempest. A lot has happened. My friends…” He turns his head back to the front door. Keyleth mutters something to Korrin that Orym can’t decipher, and the man helps her sit on a soft dark green armchair, fluffing some pillows behind her back and covering her slashed legs with a blanket. He then crosses the room, opening the front door to mutter a few words with the guards, and a few moments later, the odd group fills the small room. 
“I’m sorry I’m—” Keyleth gestures vaguely to herself before waving to the different seatings around the room. “Please, find yourselves somewhere to sit. Would you all like some tea?”
One by one, Bells Hells finds somewhere to sit. Imogen and Laudna press against each other on the sofa, leaving room for Orym to sit directly in sight of the red-haired woman; Chetney and Ashton find a dining chair each and turn it to face the group while Fearne opts to sit on the floor with FCG standing next to her. Somewhere in the kitchen behind them, Korrin busies himself filling a kettle and bringing down a set of mugs from a high cabinet.
“So,” Keyleth smiles gently, taking in the odd faces with a twinkle in her eye. Bells Hells look different from the last time she had the chance to actually talk to them when she brought the group to Whitestone—even if it had been in a rush. As her eyes pass over their faces, her breath falters when she lands on Laudna, the reason for such a rushed trip. Keyleth heard about the woman’s story and how their lives had been connected. She can’t help but feel the guilt build up inside her again. If it hadn’t been for Vox Machina, Laudna could have still been alive in Whitestone and not dead twice over. 
“Miss Tempest?” The robotic voice of the yellow Aeormaton brings Keyleth back to the group in front of her as Laudna fumbles in her seat. She averts her gaze to her lap, twisting and turning her hands on her skirts. 
“I’m sorry,” Keyleth apologizes with a soft smile, unsure of what to say next. She can’t exactly voice her thoughts: your friend has a strong resemblance to my sister. Or I’m sorry I was responsible for your death. 
“You mentioned you had information?” She opts to say instead.
Orym nods, having Keyleth’s full attention on him. The halfling recounts the events since they last saw each other at the Malleus Key. He shares all information they have discovered, and once finished, Imogen takes his place in recounting the other half of the group’s events, mentioning the magic items and research they found in Ludinus’s tower in Mollaesmyr. Keyleth drinks in their words, smiling at the mention of exploding goats and fighting angels—not so much at the idea of followers of Pelor trying to take control over a village. She still remembers her days as an adventurer—has it really been thirty years? Vesper is already a grown woman, so it has to be—and hearing the younger group’s tales brings her joy.
“...and that’s when I heard it, the screaming atop the Malleus Key,” Orym finishes retelling the vision the Matron gave him, much to Keyleth’s horror. 
“No!” Keyleth stands upright, the blanket pooling at her feet. “No, he—” She starts pacing the room, followed by Korrin, whose arms are extended to grab her if she falls.
“Who is he?” Imogen asks. “We saw him briefly, we saw him come to your rescue, and then he was—”
Keyleth’s green eyes focus on her, fiery with rage but also full of sorrow.
“He’s—He was—He…” Keyleth trembles slightly as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before continuing. “He is the champion of the Matron.”
The group looks at each other and then back at the tall woman. Orym recognizes the sorrow in her eyes. He was someone very dear to her, maybe as much as Will was to him. Orym wants to ask more about the feathery figure, but he tables it for later. Instead, he offers up the rest of the information they gathered just before traveling to Zephrah, “It seems like Ludinus is on Ruidus, and possibly the only way to travel to and from Exandria is using the beacon that connects—”
Orym doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to once Keyleth nods, understanding what’s between the lines: they need Vax to stay where he is, suffering, so they can defeat the archmage. As much as it pains Orym—and Keyleth—they know it has to be this way but, at the same time, they exchange a silent look. The woman stands, supporting her weight onto her staff, and walks towards the back door. Korrin stumbles to go after her, but she waves him dismissively, beckoning Orym to walk with her instead. The halfling does so, jumping from the plush couch and running to keep up with her long legs as they walk through the soft pebbled path of her backyard, a multitude of flowers and plants greeting them.
“Orym,” Keyleth turns to face the halfling, bending slowly to sit on a stone bench underneath the canopy of trees that partially cover the path. 
“Tempest,” Orym bows slightly. Keyleth chuckles and waves a hand at him.
“Please, call me Keyleth. There is no more need for formalities between you and me.”
He nods, blushing slightly at the request. 
“I remember how brave you were years ago, when—” Keyleth trails her gaze on the halfling, swallowing hard as she remembers the attack perpetrated on her, the one that killed her best sword and his son, rendering the kind man in front of her a widow. “I—I never thanked you for that. You lost so much that day, and I—”
“Keyleth,” Orym’s voice is soft and kind, and it melts with the tears that fall down his cheeks. “You don’t have to thank me. I did what I had to do to ensure your safety, and I would do it a million times over.”
It’s Keyleth’s turn to blush and release a twinkling tear. “Still,” she whispers, afraid the wind will carry her words to undeserving ears. “You lost someone very dear to you because of me. And—”
“The champion,” Orym smiles in recognition. She nods. “You love him.”
“Until my last dying breath.”
“We will save him, I promise.” Orym places a hand in hers, focusing his look on her green eyes. “I promise Temp—Keyleth. As soon as we are done with Ludinus himself, as soon as we have a chance: we will save him. Bring him back to you.”
“No,” she lowers her head in shame. “You cannot bring him to me. He must return to Her.”
“The Matron?” Orym is confused. He doesn’t know much about the gods, but he has heard some champions of the gods walk the Material Plane, so why wouldn’t he? 
Keyleth nods, and when she speaks, her voice wavers and burns like a thousand shards cutting skin, “His place is with Her. Not with me. Never with me.”
“Key—”
“Not yet,” she interrupts him, burying her head in her hands. “Not yet. It’s too soon. It’s not supposed to be like this.”
Orym places his hands on her shoulders, feeling the pain of the memory of when he saw Will again. He knows what she means. It’s not time for them to reunite, either. They still have a long path ahead and a world to save. 
“I'll save him, I promise.”
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leasstories · 5 months
Text
Our Love Story
Part 3: Bad day
Part 2 - Part 4
Eddie Munson x bookworm!reader (gn)
TW: Bullying
WC: ≈1.2K
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Based on our song by Taylor Swift
Ever since this night on the phone with Eddie, you call almost every night, even when you spent the day together you call. Eddie and you hate being apart from each other and if you could, you would be attached by the hip. Even in high school we don’t often see one of you without the other. Eddie ‘s friend accepted you despite the fact that you don’t know about D&D and you even came to watch one of their campaign night. When Eddie plan on skipping, he always tells you, so you don’t worry. He also takes you home almost every day, which is something you look forward to every day. People’s constant remarks on you or your relationship with Eddie start to wear on you. You’re lucky that Eddie tries to make up for every single remark by praising you and hugging you. By reassuring you that you’re an amazing person. But even with Eddie trying to make up for it, some days, it is harder to ignore the constant bullying of the basketball team. What you hate the most isn’t when they badmouth you, no. What you hate the most is where they insult Eddie or your relationship. It hurts that people do not go beyond Eddie’s name and appearance. Also, Eddie and you never fought yet, you’re always on the same page and when one of you does something the other doesn’t you communicate. You know it’s hard for Eddie given his childhood, but he really does his best. It warms your heart to see how hard he tries to make it work between the two of you.
Today, Eddie wasn’t in High School, he decided to skip all day without even telling you. You’re not mad at him for skipping but you’re a bit mad at him for not telling you he would skip today. You spent the entire day alone, like your old self, and even when Eddie’s friends tried to reach out to you, you gently turned them down. The only person you want to see today is Eddie and if he isn’t here then you’re going to spend the day alone. At lunch you went to the library and drowned yourself in reading to forget the stinging truth that Eddie isn’t here with you. When the bell ring and you go to class, the entire basketball team and some cheerleaders are waiting for you. One of them makes you trip, and you fall face flat on the ground. All the other ones start laughing and your books are all over the ground. You get up, trying not to show how much it affects you. You pick up your books and go to your locker in order to take the right books for your next classes.
You go to class and when you come into the classroom, you hear several people giggling and whispering among them.
Jason Carver, the captain of the basketball team says. “So, your freak isn’t here to protect you today. Too bad”. At the end of his sentence, he mimics a pout and everyone in the room starts giggling.
You take your seat at the front of the classroom and waits for the teacher to arrive. You usually don’t get their words get to you, but it never went as far as making you trip. You will yourself not to cry during the entirety of the class, and for once, when the bell rings, you’re the first one to leave the classroom. You hurry to the toilets and lock yourself in one of them. You even skip your next classes for the day, which is unusual for you, and wait in the bathroom, praying that Eddie is going to pick you up despite the fact that he wasn’t in class today.
When the final bell rings, you hurry to the parking lot. When you don’t see Eddie’s van, you’re a bit disappointed but tell yourself that he might be late. While you’re waiting some cheerleaders starts circling you and throwing mean words at you. You can’t even make out the words as a wave of anxiety is washing over you. Thank God Gareth and Jeff were passing by and did their best to defend you. The girls ended up leaving and Gareth looks at you concerned. “Are you okay?” He asks.
All you can do is nod, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Gareth lets you a moment to calm down, and when your breathing start returning to normal, he asks. “Do you want us do call Eddie? Can we do something to help.”
You shake your head no. “’s fine… ‘m fine. Thanks” you say while sniffling. Gareth nods. You don’t know it, but the first thing Gareth is going to do after living High School will be calling Eddie to tell him what happened, Gareth doesn’t care that you didn’t want to tell Eddie, he’d be a bad friend to the both of you if he kept it to himself.
You start walking home, but before going home you decide to go to Lover’s Lake to take time for yourself. Today was the worse day of your entire High School career. You sit on the lake’s edge and start reading your book. You stay there for an hour, and when the sun starts setting you decide that it’s time to go home. You take your book and your bag and walk in the direction of your house.
You walk up the front step, exhausted by everything that happened that day. You realize that you were lost without Eddie and even though you don’t regret dating him, you finally realize all the bullying that comes with dating him. You cross your hallway bag and emotions heavy on you. You directly go to your bed and do not notice the roses on your bedside table. You bury your head in your pillow and start having a good cry. After several minutes of crying, you get up from your bed and go to your bathroom, still not noticing the roses. You take a hot shower to relax, brush and braid your hair. Then you come back to your bedroom, and on your way to your loving bed, you almost don’t notice the roses again. You stop in your tracks as soon as you notice them. You smell them and then notice the little note attached to it. You unfold the note and read it.
I’m sorry for not coming to High School today, Sweets, and I’m sorry for everything you’ve experienced. I wish I was there, and I would understand if you were mad at me, but I’m sincerely sorry. I love you with all my heart and I’ll make it up to you. Never forget that you’re stronger than you think. Promise I’ll be here tomorrow. Love you. -Eds
You read the note over and over again and you start sobbing at the sweetness in the note. Later that night, after dinner, you called Eddie to tell him that even if you were mad at him in the beginning, everything is fine between the two of you. You thank him for the flowers as well as the notes and tell him how much you love him. He let you cry over the phone when you recount the events of today and he ends the call by reading a Stephen King book to you.
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grigori77 · 1 year
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So, about Critical Role’s statement on the new WOTC OGL ...
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I know, I know, it LOOKS LIKE they’re trying to hedge their bets, that they’re trying to appease the evil empire (WOTC) while also trying not to alienate their fans, and perhaps there’s even a fraction of truth in this point, but ... REMEMBER FOLKS, THESE GUYS ARE NOT JUST A BUNCH OF FRIENDS PLAYING A FRIENDLY GAME OF D&D ANYMORE.  They’ve built up a real business based around what they’ve been doing, and this is something they need to protect.  If it was just about THEM, about the game and the webcast at Geek & Sundry, you know they’d cut ties in a heartbeat, going back to using Pathfinder like they started out with before the release of 5E.  But there’s so much more to it for them now.
They’ve got The Legend of Vox Machina on Amazon (there’s a reason there are subtle differences between what’s happening in the show, from powers to races to the names of the gods themselves, compared to the original Campaign 1 liveplay, and thwat’s so they can get around the copyright issues in order to make the series IN THE FIRST PLACE).  They’ve got all of the offshoot merchandise, which people have to make, and a series of tie-in expansion books and games - sure, some of them have been published by Darrington Press, but there are others which were specifically made by WOTC themselves, which means their contents are trapped FRONT AND CENTRE under the conditions of the new OGL).  MOST OF ALL, though, they’ve got the show itself, hell, they’ve got the ENTIRE INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY of Critical Role itself, which isn’t just run by them - they employ HUNDREDS OF OTHER PEOPLE, from their crew to evrybody working on the periphery, right down to all the jobs that were created just to help them make and distribute their tie-in games and merchandise.  That’s a hell of a consideration.
If they piss off WOTC by coming right out and saying what I’m sure they REALLY WANT TO about this, that could put them in a really bad position given that D&D Byond is one of their major sponsors, they’re using the 5E platform and intelectual materials to put this together in the first place, and some key parts of their own material are now, thanks to this new OGL, technically THE INTELECTUAL PROPERTY of WOTC now too.  They can’t just drop D&D Beyond as a sponsor and wash their hands, they’re pretty STUCK right now.
So yeah, they’re being cautious about what they’re actually saying here, so it sounds like they’re trying to appease BOTH SIDES of the argument.  Because they REALLY ARE.  They have NO CHOICE.  It’s clear enough if you actually PAY ATTENTION and read between the lines here that what they’re saying to WOTC is purely to put them at ease, there’s birtually no real SINCERITY in their words, but when they’re talking to the community at large, the ones who are being GENUINELY HURT by this new situation, they’re thoroughly commiserating with them, entirely trying to prop them up, their sincerity HERE is COMPLETELY REAL.  They love us, they’ve made it abundently clear OVER AND OVER AGAIN already, and they don’t want to fuck us over about this.
Look at it this way - look at this in eighteen or so months’ time, when the current campaign comes to an end and they have cart blanche to do whatever they want when it comes to Campaign 4.  If you ask me, they’ll jump ship entirely, go to one of the other gameplay systems or even create their own (they might even do it SOONER if Matt can come up with something himself while Campaign 3′s still happening), and when they come back to Exandria (or maybe even a completely new setting, which I think MIGHT BE more likely, even if it does mean saying goodbye to the possibility of tying in with the previous campaigns going forward) there will be some MAJOR SHAKE-UPS where they no longer have to pay ANY lip-service at all to WOTC’s properties.  Hell, if there’s any way they can use a little legal grease to try and wrangle Exandria and Stuff out from under WOTC’s grip while they’re at it I’ve no doubt they’ll try, although I’m a good deal LESS confident about THAT.
Just remember, these guys are on OUR SIDE.  They’re in a really impossible situation right now, and they have NO IDEA how this is actually going to turn out so they are JUST AS SCARED AS US right now, but they’ve got A WHOLE LOT to lose if it all goes proper south on ‘em.  So just think about THAT before you start badmouthing Matt, Marisha, Travis, Laura, Ashley, Taliesin, Liam and Sam about trying to play the middle or delivering a “milquetoast” statement.  This really is THE BEST they can do right now ...
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schrijverr · 1 year
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Radio Home
Steve gets hurt by himself and the only way to call for help is to radio someone in the party. He doesn’t like asking for help, but radios Dustin anyway. When it turns out to be way worse than he thought, Hopper (an unlikely source) is there to catch him.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: Steve's bad parents mentioned, injury, hospital
~~~~~~~~
Steve is in a bit of a conundrum. You see he knows he should probably radio the party for help. He can only reach the radio they gave him, so it’s quite logical, but he isn’t part of the party like that and he doesn’t want to assume.
They gave it to him because it’s easier. After a few times failing to catch him at school as well as a very awkward game of telephone through Nancy, giving him a radio to ask for rides is just logical.
So, Steve got one of his own so he could come pick them up from the Wheeler house when a campaign runs late, drive them to the arcade or the skate park, one memorable moment to Hopper’s hidden cabin.
Of course there are also the emergencies like when Dustin smacked his face when playing and had a big bleeding nose and they could only reach Steve, when Max needed to get away from the fighting between her mom and step dad and that time Lucas needed assurance after a nightmare.
It is all things Steve does with love. These kids have been through so much and contrary to his complaints, they’ve all grown on him and he cares so much about the little twerps.
However, that’s not the point right now, the point is that they gave the radio to Steve, because it’s easy. He’s an adult with a car and money and enough free time. He protected them and they feel safe with him. It’s a one way transaction. Steve comes to help them, not the other way around.
So, he shouldn’t be radioing them for help. That’s not the dynamic they have. Steve should be able to figure this out.
But Steve is also stuck under the pool furniture and pretty sure he broke his leg, so maybe this could be an exception, plus he thinks he has a migraine coming on.
He’d been getting the garden ready for the summer weather that was coming. His parents weren’t in town yet, but if he didn’t do it soon, they would be disappointed with him when they dropped by again. He didn’t want to give them another reason to be disappointed with him.
Lately all he’s doing is disappointing people. His parents aren’t anything new, but he also let Billy beat his ass, drove Nancy away, couldn’t be on the court to support his team. The only thing that has been going well is the kids.
And that’s the crux of the issue.
These kids look up to him. They think he’s cool, that he’s brave, that he knows what he’s doing.
He doesn’t want to break that illusion by calling for help, because he thought he could take three chairs off at the same time and they all toppled down on him. That’s too embarrassing.
His parents must come home soon, he reasons. They’ve been gone for three weeks now, they can’t be much longer. They must notice him not being in the house and come looking for him. They must… Right?
Steve isn’t entirely sure. Deep down he knows it could be another week and he might starve to death or his leg could get infected if he doesn’t call for help.
The radio is staring judgmentally at him from the floor next to his head. He brought it with him so he wouldn’t miss it if one of the kids needed him, he could just use it and be saved.
As if hearing him start to give in, his leg gives another pulse. It’s been hurting like a bitch, but Steve is used to pushing through the pain, however, even he can’t keep ignoring how his leg aches.
God, what is he even doing, he wonders. He must’ve hit his head on the way down, since he’s being such an idiot about this.
He’s about to reach for the radio and suffer through the humiliating conversation when the radio crackles to life and Dustin asks: “Are you there, Steve? Over.”
“I’m here,” Steve says immediately snatching the radio from the floor, ignoring how the action makes his head spin. What if Dustin is in trouble and Steve can’t get there? “Are you okay? Over.”
“Yeah, we want to get the arcade,” Dustin answers, relief flooding through Steve’s veins. “Are you okay though, you sound weird. Over.”
Of course the twerp noticed. Though that might make this easier for Steve. He presses the button again and laughs: “Not really, no. Can you call Hopper or Joyce? Someone with a car and driver’s license? Over.”
“What? What happened? Over,” Dustin shrieks.
Steve winces, this sort of reaction is exactly what he wanted to avoid. He sighs: “I’m fine, Henderson. Don’t worry. I just need a bit of a hand and I know I’m not part of the party and this is for party emergencies only, but I just need someone to come free me.”
“What do you mean not- You know what, that can wait,” Dustin yells, before calming himself to moderately nervous. “Where are you, are you captured? Over.”
“I’m in my shed,” Steve confesses, cheeks burning with embarrassment as exhaustion presses him into the ground. “Chairs fell on me.”
“Chairs? Over,” Dustin asks.
“Yeah,” Steve sighs. He’s tired. His leg hurts and he probably has a migraine coming too, which is just lovely, truly. He feels embarrassed and humiliated. He doesn’t want to deal with this. “I don’t want to hear it. Just call Hopper.”
“Okay, okay,” Dustin says, quickly. “I’ll get on it. Just tell me if you’re hurt. Over.”
“No,” Steve lies. “Just tired. Your yapping is making my head hurt,” he says and flips the radio off before he can think about it.
It’s not even to be mean, but he suddenly feels a little lightheaded and the noise makes him feel like he’s going to throw up. He aches all over and just needs it to be quiet.
His blinks become heavy and he kind of floats in this in between limbo of consciousness and sleep.
He’s startled out of it by the shed door slamming open. He groans at the movement and bleary looks up to come face to face with a very worried Hopper.
“Chief?” he asks, confused. At this point he doesn’t remember asking for the man.
“Fucking hell, Harrington,” Hopper hisses through his teeth. “What happened here? How are you feeling?”
His body screams at him, the edges of his vision still blurred. With his concentration slipping it’s harder to ignore it all. He mumbles: “Hurts. Tired.”
“Don’t go to sleep,” Hopper orders sternly and Steve can’t help but freeze up at the tone, doing everything in his might to stay awake.
Hopper winces at something, maybe his reaction, but he isn’t sure why.
Luckily, Hopper doesn’t interrogate him further, instead picking up the radio on his shoulder and saying: “This is Hopper. I’m at the Harrington residence and I need an ambulance ASAP.”
The response is garbled enough by the radio that Steve can’t catch it and he also doesn’t fully grasp why Hopper would need all that.
“I got a male, 18, buried under garden chairs,” Hopper answers the radio operator. “He isn’t fully here mentally and there is blood all around his head. I don’t know what the situation under the chairs is like.”
That sounds vaguely worrying to Steve and he hopes that whoever Hopper is talking about will be okay. He doesn’t like how worried Hopper sounds.
However, he isn’t sure how to make it better, because Hopper seemed mad a little bit ago and Steve doesn’t want to aggravate him more, plus staying awake is proving to be harder than he thought.
“Hop...” he only manages half the name, but that’s enough for Hopper to be hovering over him again.
“You okay, kid?” he asks.
Steve is scared for what he’s about to admit, but does it anyway. Maybe saying it will lessen the punishment that is sure to come. “I- I can’t stay awake. ‘M sorry.”
“Hey, hey, hey, no need for sorry,” Hopper says soothingly. A rough hand cups his cheek gently and he can’t help but lean into it, closing his eyes.
That action earns him a soft shake and Hopper saying: “Stay with me, Harrington. Come on. Eyes open.”
Steve blinks heavily, but his eyes open again.
“Oh thank god,” Hopper mutters more to himself.
They repeat this song and dance a few times more. However, it doesn’t last long and soon darkness takes over, the last thing Steve remembers is the sound of more boots coming into the shed then he’s gone.
When he blinks his eyes open again, he isn’t looking at the shed ceiling, instead a white ceiling is staring down at him.
Steve frowns in confusion for a second, before he realizes that the man Hopper was worried about was him, because he came to help Steve after he radioed with Dustin. It must have been worse than he realized if he’s in a hospital.
At least, he assumes it's a hospital, because the ceiling is white and he hears steady beeping coming from next to him.
He forces his head to move more, groaning at the action when it sends a dull ache through him. The sound causes something to his right to move and he realizes it’s Hopper, who has gotten up and is now leaning over him, brows furrowed.
“Chief?” Steve asks, because why would he still be here. Is he in trouble?
“It’s me, kid,” Hopper shushes him, carding a hand through his hair in a soothing manner. Okay, so maybe not in trouble, but that still doesn’t explain much.
Then Hopper is calling for a nurse and Steve is forced to answer all sort of questions that remind him of his stay here after Billy beat him up. Not a good sign. However, he feels more clearheaded now than in the shed, which is a comfort.
“What's the verdict, doc?” he asks when the doctor is done, trying to sound less scared than he is and probably unsuccessful.
“Good news, your concussion is minor,” the doctor says. “However, the head wound bled a lot. You passed out due blood loss, but we got your blood pressure back up with a transfusion. Your left leg has a minor fracture, but beyond that, you’re going to be just fine, Mr. Harrington.”
That’s quite a relief, but also way worse than Steve thought. He hadn’t even realized he hit his head that hard when he went down. He gets migraines after Billy and just assumed that was a cherry on top of this shitty cake.
“When will I be out of here?” Steve asks, instead of reacting.
“We want to keep an eye on you for a few days,” the doctor tells him. “Then we can release you into the care of someone. We’re trying to reach your parents so they can take you home.”
At that tidbit, Steve’s heart sinks. His parents aren’t here, maybe they’re even unreachable. That happens sometimes. God, it’s so embarrassing that Hopper now knows his parents are disappointed enough in him not to want to associate with him.
He tries not to let any of that show on his face, however, as he smiles: “Alright, thank you, doctor.”
The doctor nods, then leaves the room so it’s just him and Hopper again. Steve now also remembers not being able to listen to Hopper’s instructions, so he shrinks down on the bed and tries not to look Hopper in the eye as he waits for the dressing down he is sure to get.
It never comes.
Instead Hopper sits back down next to him and sighs: “I’m glad you’re okay, kid. Nearly gave me a heart attack when I found you like that.”
“Sorry,” Steve mumbles, feeling guilty that he got so many people involved in him being stupid. “I was trying to make the pool ready for summer. Thought I could carry more chairs than I could. It’s stupid, my dad will rip me a new one when he hears.”
Hopper’s hands tighten on the railing of the bed and Steve realizes that might be the wrong thing to say.
“He probably won’t be too mad,” he tries to backtrack. “I should’ve done it last month, it’s my own fault anyway. I knew I was late, so I was rushing before they came back.”
“Please, shut up,” Hopper grits and Steve clicks his mouth shut.
Hopper sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose while he takes a few deep breaths. “Your parents shouldn’t be mad about you being in the hospital, Steve. They should be here right now, worrying about you. You were out for five hours.”
Steve’s heart stops at the words. He isn’t sure if it’s about the concern Hopper is showing that his own parents never have, the fact that this is the first time Hopper has ever called him Steve or because he had been out for so long.
“Oh,” is all he manages to reply.
“I’m not mad at you for being here and it’s not your fault,” Hopper says. “It was an accident. I’m glad you managed to reach out to Dustin before you passed out. You could’ve died there.”
Steve flushes, remembering how long he debated about radioing Dustin. God, the other must be mad at him for turning his radio off like that.
“Is he okay?” he asks, suddenly feeling worried. “Dustin, I mean. Is he okay?”
Hopper gives him a fond smile that Steve isn’t used to and says: “Dustin is fine. He was worried out of his mind when you dropped off the line and has been sitting outside being worried for the last five hours, but other than that, totally fine.”
“He waited here?” Steve asks, shocked and needing to be sure. That is one of the nicest things someone has ever done for him.
“Yeah, he has,” Hopper answers. “Want me to let him in?”
“Please,” Steve requests
“Alright, kid, I’ll give you two a moment,” Hopper promises, before opening the door and leaving to get Dustin.
Dustin comes rushing into the room not even a second later, screaming: “Steve! You're awake.”
“I am, man,” Steve says, plastering on a grin the best he can, while Dustin climbs on his bed to hug him, all the jostling hurting more than he’ll ever tell the kid.
When Dustin pulls back there are tears in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you idiot! You told me you were fine and then you disappeared from the radio and then Hopper calls my mom to tell us you’re in the hospital! The hospital, Steve. That’s the opposite from fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “I didn’t even realize I hit my head, thought I had a migraine coming, nothing more. Thanks for calling Hopper.”
“Of course, I called Hopper,” Dustin replies, sounding affronted at the idea he wouldn’t. “You stopped saying over and were slurring your words.”
Steve doesn’t know how Dustin caught details like that. Unable to voice his gratitude, he pulls Dustin in for another hug. He whispers: “Thank you, you saved my life.”
“You’re welcome,” Dustin whispers back. “I’ll always come help. We’re brothers and you are part of the party. I thought you knew that. We have each other’s back.”
A lump of emotions forms in Steve’s throat as he hugs Dustin. He knows how protective they all are about the party title, to be included in that is an honor. “I won’t forget,” he promises.
“You better not,” Dustin mutters into his chest.
They sit like that for a long time as Steve mentally works through the day in his mind. Finally getting a chance process.
Apparently he had nearly died. He hit his head – again – and nearly died – again. Now he’s in the hospital and unless his parents can be contacted – which is unlikely – he’s stuck here. Hopper knows he might be here.
Beyond that, he’s going to be fine, just another concussion under his belt. Plus a broken leg, he can kiss basketball goodbye for the rest of the year.
College is also looking less and less likely.
However, Steve can’t bring himself to mind that much, because he’s part of the party, he’s Dustin’s brother. No one is mad at him and they came to help when he called, a novelty.
After a little bit, Dustin has to go home. Hopper takes him there and Steve expects to spend the night alone. He doesn’t like hospitals much, but he’ll have to deal. However, Hopper comes back and plants himself next to Steve’s bed in a manner that dares Steve to make a comment. Steve knows better than that.
They spend the next few days like that. Hopper has to work during the day, but at night he’ll sit next to Steve and make him feel less alone. He even brings El with him two times.
She’s an adorable girl. He hasn’t been around her much, since she often isn’t allowed outside, but he grows fond of her within minutes.
During the day, he isn’t lonely either with a parade of kids coming to check in with him, bring him shitty gifts and silly stories. They’re there from the second school gets out until visitation hours end and never complain about the uncomfortable chairs.
Mike brings with him school work he still needs to finish. Nancy had heard about what happened and collected his work. Steve honestly doesn’t care, though he does want to graduate, so he’ll have to.
Joyce also comes to bring him flowers once, which he never saw coming. She fusses over him and tells him to be careful, before she kisses the top of his head in a gentle manner that has him burrowing down to avoid her seeing his wet eyes.
And so the days creep by towards when he’s set to be released and there is no sign yet of his parents.
Steve has called their secretary about it, who informed him that his parents have extended their business trip to Europe into a vacation, since the weather in France is already so nice. They’re not taking any messages, but she’ll see what she can do.
He doesn’t put much stock in her words. He doesn’t really blame her either. His father is intimidating and he pays well and probably takes her to bed. It makes Steve sick, but he can do about as much as she can.
But his helplessness with his parents doesn’t stop his release date coming any closer and soon his doctor is signing his paperwork.
If he’s honest, Steve doesn’t really know what’s going on. He might not be a minor anymore, but they said he wasn’t getting out without someone being available to care for him. As far as he’s aware, his parents aren’t here. However, he doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to, so he keeps his mouth shut.
Leaving the room on his crutches, he comes face to face with Hopper, who has his stuff in a bag over his shoulder. Steve doesn’t know if he’s surprised.
One the one hand, Hopper has been there with him the whole time, but that is probably because he felt shaken up after finding Steve bleeding on the ground. Taking him home and caring for him is a whole other ballpark, which is such a big ask that he could never expect that from Hopper.
He isn’t sure what Hopper sees on his face, because he sighs before he gruffly says: “Don’t make that face, Steve. I’m not letting you rot here.”
“You- you don’t have to,” Steve tells him tentatively, because yeah, he wants to get the hell away from here, but he doesn’t want Hopper to do something he doesn’t want to.
“I know, kid,” Hopper says, more gentle this time. Then, because neither of them feel like having this conversation, he claps his hands and turns to walk away. “Now let’s go, I promised El I’d be home for lunch and bringing your home. I don’t want to see her disappointed face if I don’t.”
Steve doesn’t want that either. For being isolated in her youth, El sure managed to nail the puppy eyes without trying. So, he hobbles after Hopper as fast as he can.
They drive to the cabin in silence. Steve has been told to stay of his feet as much as he can and it appears that El and Hop have taken this very seriously. When he gets to the cabin, there is a nest/soft throne made for him that El ushers him to.
“I will be your nurse,” she tells him very seriously, leaving before he can protest to grab their lunch from Hopper, who snorts softly at them.
Hopper explains to Steve that he will have to work, but that El will be here all day and to ask her if he needed anything. If there was trouble, they could radio him. He could stay there for as long as he wanted and he wasn’t a bother.
Steve kind of feels like a bother, but El makes it very difficult to keep that mindset. She sits next to him on the couch, obviously excited not to be alone all day and she doesn’t even have to get up if he needs anything.
By the time Hopper gets back from work, he has relaxed into the couch and is laughing along with the tellanovellas El seems to adore, explaining stuff to her she doesn’t get.
Over the eight weeks it takes him to recover, Steve feels better than he has ever done in his own home. He goes back to school, Hopper dropping him off each day without complaint. He also drives Steve back home, often accompanied by one or more of the other rugrats and them along with El, will hang out at the cabin.
Hopper is of little help when it comes to homework, but he doesn’t mind it when Steve gets frustrated or doesn’t get it, telling him to take it easy on his brain after rattling it again. It’s nice, someone caring like that.
The summer is coming closer, as is his graduation. Rejection letters are starting to pile up on a welcome mat he barely crosses anymore. He knows at some point he’ll have to face his parents and they won’t be happy with him, but for now he lets himself enjoy having a family.
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audhdnight · 5 months
Text
Disclaimer, before I get into this: I do not believe a god of any kind exists. Some people believe the god of the Bible exists as a single entity among many other entities, and to that I say, to each their own. I personally do not hold that belief, so when I talk about what god could have done or what god is and isn’t, this is in a purely hypothetical sense. It is to draw attention to the inconsistencies in the way the Christian god is presented, in hopes that his followers might recognize a bit of their cognitive dissonance and realize they could look at things a lot more objectively.
Moving on~
The following image is a screenshot of part of a post I made last week. The entire thing is not relevant to this specific discussion, so I’ve only included two specific paragraphs, although if you’d like to read the whole thing I can post it here too. (The image description is in the alt text.)
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In the comment section of this post, a Christian woman replied:
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I’m going to break down these analogies because I am seriously so sick of seeing people repeat them as if they actually make any sense at all.
To start, her analogy of the lion’s den is omitting the fact that my hypothetical father in this scenario not only created the den and put the lions in it, but then also put me into it. Then he saved me, and expected me to be grateful and worship him and decide “wow, he saved me so I guess he must love me pretty much! guess that means I have to follow every rule he sets for me now!” She also makes it sound as if there are only two choices: worship this convoluted father with a praise kink, or else jump back into the pit of lions. When in reality, what’s stopping me from simply walking away from it all? Is the den and the ground around it the only thing that exists in this world? Because I would assume if I keep walking, I would keep finding ground to walk on. And eventually I’d come to a place where my father isn’t, and I’d probably just stay there.
In the second comment she uses the example of a couple who decided to set boundaries in their relationship. Right off the bat, this argument is completely invalidated by the simple fact that there is no equal partnership between a person and “God”. There is a massive power imbalance, in which no form of equality can ever exist. Even setting that to the side, though, we need to acknowledge that these are not “boundaries”, in the sense that all parties must abide by them or else part ways. They are rules, and only the non-God party has to follow them.
In a separate post I made a while ago about my issues with the god of the Bible, I brought up the fact that the true biblical God cannot be loving. He supposedly led the nation of Judah on a colonization campaign through the ancient Middle East, giving them full permission to slaughter entire cities, take all their shit, and keep their women as slaves. I said that I cannot in good conscience follow a god who says murder is wrong, but then explicitly instructs his “chosen people” to murder thousands upon thousands of people just because they were “gentiles” living on the land promised to them by that same god. In the comments of that post, another woman said this, which is a very common belief in Christianity:
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This is why I hate the concept of “sin” as a whole. It’s not bad because it’s bad, it’s bad because god said so. Which means he can also say something completely different, and that makes it okay but just for him. Murder isn’t murder when god kills someone. Stealing isn’t stealing if god said you could have it. Rape isn’t rape if god told you that you could keep that woman as a slave.
So in the analogy of a woman and her partner, these are not boundaries like “we can’t hit each other or fight, we can’t lie to each other or cheat”. They are rules that say “you can’t hit me or talk back, you can’t keep things from me or leave this relationship. but me? I can do whatever I want”.
The god of the Bible is not a loving deity. He is a control freak who is perfectly happy to let you suffer for all eternity if you decide you don’t like the way he runs things. I see a lot of Christians in my comments constantly, telling me that god didn’t decide to punish you for not loving him. It’s just a natural consequence; if you decide to be separated from him, his protection doesn’t work and that’s why it’s torment.
To that I always say, why? Why did god make a reality in which his protection only extends to those who worship him? Why did he make it so that we have to suffer if we’re apart from him? He’s all-powerful right? So couldn’t he have created a reality in which, whether you liked him or not, the outcome was the same? All people, regardless of faith, had an afterlife that didn’t torture them? I don’t know if it’s just that Christians have no imagination or what, because I can conceive of multiple ways in which suffering simply wouldn’t have to exist if I had made the world.
Of course the response I always get is “But you’d have to take people’s choice! We’d be robots!” And again I ask, why? God could have made it so that we could all only make choices within the bounds of what does not harm ourselves or others. He could’ve made it so that greed and hate and apathy simply didn’t exist in people’s minds, if he wanted to. And sure, maybe you’d say it isn’t fair to keep people from being able to make those choices. But I would say that in this hypothetical reality, we wouldn’t know the fucking difference. We would be happy. Everyone would have what they needed, no one would ever suffer.
Anyway, “free will” within Christianity does not exist. You cannot give true consent in an imbalanced power dynamic, or when saying “no” is unsafe, and god meets both those conditions.
This whole thing is another great example of how Christians actively believe a whole lot of directly conflicting things, but the indoctrination keeps them from seeing it.
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patheticmenscuffle · 1 year
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okay someone in the johann vs charlie kelly poll used a major spoiler that i was trying to avoid in my own propaganda to insinuate that johann wasn’t pathetic AT ALL. and as much as i was trying to avoid using that plot point as propaganda it’s fair game now bc what they said does NOT prove he is un-pathetic. so big balance spoilers ahead:
-Johann damn near objectively does NOT die a hero’s death. his death become a catalyst to inspire the world, that much is true, but that is never what he WANTED and I think a lot of people forget that. Johann did not sacrifice himself for a noble cause. He did not willingly give himself up for anything. He died CONFUSED and SCARED, unaware of what was even happening to him! what he does after is heroic, but the death itself is pitifully mundane and cruel!! that’s so important and, personally, much more interesting than if he willingly gave himself up, but it’s also still a little pathetic!!!
-Just before Johann dies he thinks the Voidfish is finally communicating with him. he thinks the Voidfish is singing to him because it likes the song he’s playing. the Voidfish is singing for Magnus, who is BEHIND Johann. how is that alone not extremely pathetic, that even moments before his death he is given the false hope that the Voidfish would communicate with him directly?
-Yes the Voidfish returns it’s love by releasing his songs across all realities, but the fact of the matter is it only ever reciprocated Johann’s dedication and admiration in his DEATH. that is not the fault of Johann, but it is nonetheless extremely pitiful, as I have repeated BEFORE, that he was unable to capture the attention of the Voidfish for his years alive because he simply was not on the Voidfish’s highest priorities.
-Less strong of a point, but one I think is important: a death of heroism does not negate the life of patheticness he lived. My other propaganda of him being pathetic in life does not go away for the act of heroism he did. If that was the case then a good chunk of people in this scuffle shouldn’t be here! To say he’s the least pathetic character in all of Balance just because he died in the way he did is insane! LOOK AT MY PROPAGANDA AND THE FACTS, BOY /lh
I really hope that my dedication to saying Johann is pathetic isn’t coming off as rude, as hate for him, or insinuating he isn’t a deeply important character who did something incredibly good for the world of Balance! Hell, I’m not even saying he should win anymore, I know this is a sinking ship and that he’s going to lose against Charlie Kelly’s sopping wet pathetic ass. I am saying all of this out of an extremely deep love for him, as a person who has been attached and analyzing his character ever since his literal debut! And I think with that expertise I can come to the conclusion that he is loveable, heroic, AND pathetic. #bardboyswag.
Feel free to use spoilers as propaganda, all we ask is that you let us know when you do so we can tag it! Or tag it yourself, if you're adding them in reblogs or tags.
This entire competition is about celebrating pathetic men, we're not hating on anyone. We love these characters and what they bring to a narrative! Don't worry about coming off rude, we're just having fun and you're not being mean at all here.
Anyways... god, I forgot that it didn't even sing to him, it was to Magnus. That's so SAD. It's been a while since I listened to Balance, it was so good tho, and my go-to example of a popular good plot-driven d&d campaign (as opposed to the more sandbox-y Critrole). Good stuff.
- Mod Dragon
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avatar0ftheeye · 1 year
Text
Tw for described violence, abuse
Wow
y’all really liked my silly little campaign
My players and I geeked out over y’all last night we were so exited that people LIKED our story!
so without further ado, here’s part 2 of Dungeons and Teenagers!
the players begin their walk toward the town of Phandalin. 4 human teenagers, a Half-goblin, and a goose. As they walk, the kids try and press Jim for questions. He is VERY secretive, only giving vague answers.
once they reach the town it isn’t as deserted as they thought. Mostly humanoid looking animal people, all walking around doing their daily tasks.
Jim, getting straight to the point, says they should get some weapons. The players are suspicious of Jim, what is this lanky teenager doing acting like he’s the boss of them? However, they fail their insight checks so they won’t know for another like 4 sessions.
They find a closed down weapons shop, several weapons and armor line the walls of it. the party suggests they rob it, and Jim doesn’t refute
They lock pick the door and have 5 minutes to gather anything they need.
Maisie, with an unnatural 20, find 16 god damned daggers underneath the table. 10 are rusted, only one good use, 3 are new, and 3 are slightly used. Good enough, it’s 16 GOD DAMNED DAGGERS
Damien, being the rouge he is, just grabs anything and everything he can find. Beautiful bows, cases of arrows, swords, daggers, etc. life is great when the DM uses minecraft inventory mechanics
Goose goes straight for a giant ax. That’s it. The biggest ass ax he could find that is about 5x his size. Jim is fearful for his life.
Thomas just wanders around the shop, gawking at everything. He’s was a sheltered kid, doesn’t even have a phone. The most he was allowed out was going to school, so the sight of all this weaponry was a shock to him.
Alex began eyeing the armor. Large pieces of leather, iron, chain mail, and a material he can’t quite place. Though he knows nothing of magic in this world, the armor is glowing a bright neon blue and, when he got closer, emitted ice cold air.
he reached out to touch the armor, enamored by it. Yet once his hand reached the glowing chest plate, it disappeared. A sharp, ice cold pain shot through his arm and through his entire body. His blood felt like it was freezing, yet all at once, it stopped
“oi, Morekai!” The players hear from outside, “Theres some people in yer shop! Call the guards or ey dunno, get em!”
They’ve been spotted through the window! They really need new dice! They keep failing their stealth checks! Seriously guys! Please get new dice! (/directed)
They begin to scramble out the door, Goose and Damien dropping everything they had on the way out
Thomas, in his panicked state, trips over his own two feet and face plants into the floor. The glass shards from the window dug deeper into his skin and he let out a small whimper of pain, just as the door opens
in the doorway stands a tall, humanoid blue jay. He had thin stick like legs, blue feathers, and the face of a man who works in retail
he begins to comfort Thomas, offering to take him downstairs and remove the shards from his skin. Thomas, failing yet another insight check, agrees and follows him down
outside the shop, the players catch their breath. After a quick headcount, they realize they’ve lost Thomas. They must go back inside to get him, much to the dismay of damien.
You can’t blame Damien though. born to a neglectful father and a mother who would die a week into his life, he doesn’t understand why these people care about others. Damien has long scars across his face, old and faded with time. These scars were caused by his father, an abusive man who cared about nothing other than himself and who he was sleeping with that day. Damien was raised as a solider, who knows how long it would take to undo that damage.
back inside the shop, Thomas and morekai descend the stairs to the basement
“so,” started morekai, “what’s your diet like?”
“????? Excuse me????” Asked Thomas, “who???? Asks that??,, kind of question??,, what’s your diet like then man?”
“Fish and gum! It’s not an unusual question, It’s just small talk, jesus!” Replied Morekai, annoyed and seemingly offended
“fine, I guess normal???”
“would you consider your self poisonous?”
The party breaks back into the building and rushes into the stairwell to the basement. It is long and winding, seemingly going on forever. They descend slowly, trying to not be spotted by Morekai (they finally succeeded their rolls!).
as they reach the bottom, a low, hungry growl is heard. A kind of hungry growl that you only hear from a stomach that hasn’t eaten in days. A growl of pure feral hunger.
Morekai grips the back of Thomas’ shirt “you seriously thought I would be HELPING you?? After you broke into my shop and stole who knows what?” Morekai mocked, “seriously man, get less gullible”
morekai shoved Thomas into the room, and that’s when Goose took his strike
Goose leapt off the top of the staircase and began freefalling downwards. Unbeknownst to him, Maisie had tripped and fallen at the same time, taking Jim and Damien with it. now, 70% of the party was freefalling down yo the bottom of a cavern. Alex, being the only sensible one, just kept running down the stairs.
Jim reached into his bag and grabbed a pair of boots. He slipped them on and began to fall slower, leaving Damien and Maisie to continue freefalling. Realizing this, he turned upside down and began falling FASTER
Damien reached out to him and latched onto his arm, but due to the way physics work idk they begin to spin in the air, faster and faster until they’re just a circular blur
goose flies over to Maisie. Maisie reaches up and grabs his legs as they begin to slowly descend to the ground. Maisie and Goose Are fine
Damien and Jim, on the other hand, are violently still freefalling toward the floor. With a final roll of dexterity, Jim grabs onto Damien and flips him on top of him. When they crash to the ground, Jim took most of the damage instead of Damien, leaving a cartoonish hole in the floor
A surprised morekai screamed at them. Goose saw this as a challenge and, after a quick argument and a Google search, started biting his legs with his teeth that he apparently has. He gnaws and gnaws on his leg until the thin ass stick snaps in half
morekai falls to the ground, bleeding profusely. Maisie takes the opportunity as well, and begins stabbing at morekai with the stolen daggers
Thomas, witnessing his friends murdering his captor, beings to cry. He just kinda does that
the sound of his cries alerts something
something big
something hungry
out from the shadows emerges an enormous raccoon named Rigabus
he glared down at the party and begins his slow, predatorial walk towards them
the party must think fast
Jim, being the idiot he is, grabs Damien from on top of him, sits up
and throws him over Rigabus
With a strength check from Jim and a nat 20 performance check from Damien
Damien backflips over rigabus, Doing a triple twirl in the air, and spiderman poses onto the ground, causing Rigabus to be so enamored better just stares at damien
the rest of the party takes their chance and begins to sprint up the stairs. They make it about a 1/3 of the way before they realize
oh yeah
Damien’s down there
Damien screams at them as he begins to run, breaking the trance with rigabus
Now, picture this dear readers
a goose, a 6’0 goblin, 4 teenagers, and a giant raccoon I plagiarized from Regular Show, all running up a giant staircase to freedom
I couldn’t believe it either, and I was there
the players run as fast as they can. Jim manages to grab Damien like a cat and begins to run faster
With a final jump, the players make it through the door, trapping Rigabus in the doorway. They sprint out of the shop into the street, running and running as fast as they can
finally, once they stop, they realize they had run to the edge of town, and are standing in front of a giant coliseum
inside, as seen through the glass ceiling, a woman stands trapped inside a cage. She is tall, beautiful,
and Calluna Grace, Maisies Mother
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