#ANYWAYS he's really bad at saying thanks cause he's so used to being self reliant so he's just. awkward abt it lmao

[unhappytimeleaper]

Hello, may I request Q, T, and Y with Kuro x reader? Thank you and have a wonderful day. 💟

requested by anonymous

Word Count: 3,150+

I love Kuro. It was a while ago on a chat, but I realized I kinda have a type for delinquents. Oops. This mainly doesn’t go too much into the actions that make him a yan, I do touch on it occasionally or try to slip some of it in there, but I didn’t want to get too off-topic from the letters which meant I had to leave a lot of it out. Also, I wrote half of this 7 months ago and the rest today, so I’m sorry if it’s a little disjointed.

Also, I finally gave in and watched up to part 5 of Jojo, and I have… feelings. My poor friends are being subjected to all of them,, and someone should come to save them. TLDR for those curious, but I did not care for part 3, parts 1 & 2 were decent, I love part 4, from the art style to the characters, and part 5 I adore the characters, but I’m weak to character deaths :(. Maybe with time, I’ll possibly add them to my list but no hopes. Anyway, Kuro.

Kuro Kiryu; Unedited. Gender Neutral Reader.

Warnings; yandere content, mentions of potential threats, alludes to minor manipulation, self-isolating, and simple fights. Nothing is in detail nor is there truly anything bad but as always it is yandere. 

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

This would vary on if you leave or die rather than escape as he is also one where a lot of the relationship borders on unhealthy. It mainly is because Kiryu has some self-awareness to where things run too far but gets lost in the minor details. His delinquent past might affect some of his actions, but it's not as of he's one to ever use physical harm against you to get you to obey. He tends to focus more on voicing opinions. While he rarely might force you to not interact with others [generally completely strangers rather than friends or family unless he has proof they are bad news], there is a self-imposed guilt you feel when doing so, causing you to avoid others. Unlike others who force rules, and force isolation, Kiryu doesn't make it, so there ever is something you need to escape from. This would be unlike Eichi or Shu, for example. Even being yandere, it’s likely that with Kuro, the relationship develops naturally– or at least appears that way to an extreme extent that there never was some sort of reason to fear Kiryu in the form of genuine escape.

Leaving might be the most common reason or situation the two of you might face. Various reasons; thinking you need to experience life outside of a relationship, becoming tired of the relationship, dating an idol being too stressful, realizing you and Kiryu just don't connect past a honeymoon phase, etc. There are many reasons why you might want to break up, not wholly reliant on his yandere behaviors, but regardless of what it is related to, he often will have the same reaction.

No. Okay, maybe it comes off scarier than he intends when said like that, but Kiryu means, no, we can work this out. You know he's not attempting to come off as scary. He has never been in the relationship, and more so, his fear factor comes from how he traditionally is himself. Kiryu rarely even goes out of his way to threaten others to avoid you; the way he talks and carries himself does that for him unless he can find some valid excuse that even you can’t deny being a good option. Kuro also has never had a past of lying to you when he says he didn't threaten them or did something— it really was the others who picked to act that way post their conversation– although it’s hard to say for sure if there truly was never any violence or threats under his actions. However, no reason to doubt him is still no reason to use it in a breakup. It's not to say that he isn’t aware of his fear factor and thinks of it as a benefit in these situations, but honestly, he tries extremely hard not to do anything bad. He's changed from the delinquent days anyway when he would have quickly jumped to use violence to get them to stay away from you. Really, he doesn't want to do anything to tarnish his new reputation to you, nor have his actions come back and likely affect his sister or career. Leaving him becomes a lot more difficult because while he isn't necessarily the smartest at problem-solving or convincing you to stay as others might be, he tries. He tries so hard that it's impossible to stand your ground firmly. He works to make it so you can compromise [in his favor] to stay with him. Or a break up isn't really a break up— yeah, you've agreed to label it as a break, but this only if it's clear you don't want to date anyone else. Kiryu, even in this situation, hovers around more; not quite a relationship way that you feel you need to tell him to back off, but enough that it feels you're always on the brink of appearing still together. You can blame it on ES, for such a large building; it seems everyone is always wrapped up with each other in some way, although all of it is still profoundly intentional in Kiryu’s actions to stay near. If it is the route of still dating with compromises, these can vary but rarely will it alter or break aspects of his yandere traits as most of these result from his stoic, straightforward, and scary appearance. It's more working on adding things into the relationship to keep you more excited or understanding while a honeymoon phase is over; there are still think you can do together/have in common. Just cause one stage ends doesn't mean to give up; it means working to enjoy the next phase too. So ever really leaving is quite tricky because Kiryu's directness just results in a rebuff of finding reasons to stay, even if it gets to the point staying is just easier than leaving. There even is sometimes a sinking fear that you’d be throwing away the best partner you might ever get because of his personality over this. What if there really never would be anything better? Would you have to come crawling back to him begging for another chance– it’s entirely self-inflicted, but a tiny part of your mind would have to eat away at the possibility.

If you do manage to break up unless you are leaving the country as a whole, where it is hard to avoid Kiryu even if it's clear the relationship is over. Most of his actions feel like he's trying to win you back, such as cooking your meals or asking to spend time with you while he works on a sewing project. It's often weird, but his ability to be direct can make him easily be able to pass it off as being over you. These are just him, well, being him. Even in ways other idols can verify this is just his personality, even if he is being that awkwardly kind self. Under the surface, you know it's more than that… but there is no proof, the uneasiness no one else can understand. Though it's not misplaced, Kiryu's kindness might appear as just his standard attempt to make amends for his past as a delinquent, but everything he does is his goal of making you regret ending the relationship. That maybe you'll fall back in love with him, or you'll come crawling back, calling it a mistake. It’s undeniable that even with his jealousy and misplace tendencies he’s a wonderful partner, brother, and teammate. Kiryu deep down is still a good person fighting against his past and urges– and it’s hard to find someone who would likely treat you as good. Post breakup you’d likely fall back into seeing only happy couples too, it all sinking in just like you feared that even though you have so much life left to live you just tossed aside the best person you could have been with. Perhaps all that anxiety and weird feelings you were getting was from something else– your mind making all sorts of excuses to convince you to just text him those simple words. “Let’s get back together.”

Also all of this is his way of hovering to ensure no one else can pursue or harm you. Kiryu is well aware that even if he's changed from his past, others might hold grudges, and much like how he feared that might impact his sister, he knows that if it got out you were his ex, there is always a chance they might you use against him. Or there might be jealous fans— both upset you hurt him by breaking up or upset that you had the opportunity to date him. There is no telling what might happen, and he might not directly admit these reasons to you as it could become a bigger fight, thus harming the chance of ever getting back together.

Would he move on? If you're around, no. There is always a lingering chance, and if he is around just the same, you’ll unlikely be able to meet someone new. Okay, well, if you were gone completely… maybe. Just like how Kiryu has changed from his former delinquent lifestyle, he also knows there is a point in growing and changing in other ways. Not to say his yandere tendencies heal from this, but he knows it's unfair for him to forever pine after you when you are entirely gone living away from him. It doesn't happen quickly, he locked his heart away for years after this loss, and it's easy to tell even to others he becomes even more reserved [something most won't think was possible, but you proved them wrong]. He might become more snappy with subjects and reject many other forms of care, such as friendships. But in five years… ten years… things might change, and some of that ice might melt again, allowing him to try again. However, the second you show up once again he would be ready to start anew.

Furthermore, if you were to pass away either while dating or post-break-up, where you are still around, the answer is no. Kiryu will have believed that he was lucky enough to have met his soulmate so young, and unfair it might be he doesn't deserve a third chance. His personality is the same as if you were to move away forever; colder, and that stoic nature becomes bitter and quick to tell others off. He doesn't need anyone else, not friends, not someone to love. His sister really would be the only one who would have close contact with his personal life and understand on a deeper level his feelings, usually being the voice of reason to others as to why he became the way he is now [assuming this is in the future and she is also growing up]. He'd care for a grave site weekly, and overall, it feels like a piece of him died along with you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

There are more what feels like two layers, and it depends on the reason and reason you might be having a moment of out-lash at him.

Take, for example, isolating yourself because you’re upset with him or an action he took or an argument. In this sense, Kuro would probably think you’re being childish. This is the behavior his little sister would have if upset or pouting, not an adult in a relationship. He would likely become more closed off and stoic at the moment and find himself annoyed at the action you are taking rather than settling to deal with the problem at hand. Ironically, it’s just as contradictory that he closes himself off too and doesn’t work to resolve the problem, but if you want to act like a childish brat, why should he have to fix the case you started? Kuro isn’t really the type to make it so you’re fully locked away, unable to have any form of life, and thus resort to isolating yourself in disdain for him. If in a fight, you do resort to isolation to calm down or whatever, then it’s expected you should be able to talk for a short moment before coming to Kiryu to resolve the issue. The longer you wait to talk over the ‘tantrum’, the more frustrated Kuro will get and likely leave him in a grumpy, cold mood to you for longer, unable to express his emotions as he doesn’t want to take them out on you either. Like this, his fear factor only increases, and his hovering nature seems to double for the amount of time you hid progressively. Even if it wasn’t forced isolation or him actively trying to scare other people off, they are now wanting to avoid him and you, by extension, even more. In the end, it only seems to backfire creating a cycle of loneliness problems.

As for something like screaming or crying in a fight, Kuro gets quiet for a reason of self-reprimanding. Not that he feels too guilty over his actions but that his actions once again come back around to hurt someone he loves. Kuro is well aware that his jealousy isn’t normal, and that his actions have never been the healthy solution, but he’s trying. He so desperately wants to amend his past, to melt and burn and tear up the negative and harsh feelings of jealousy boiling in his mind and heart. That this could all be normal, you could love each other and not have to feel this way if he just had done something different. And while he’s quiet, appearing perhaps slightly disinterested or the scowl on his face making you only fear more, he does nothing. He doesn’t take a step; he doesn’t flinch his hands, it almost looks like he’s not breathing with how steady he goes, telling himself not to lash out like the delinquent side of him wants to. He’ll simply wait, running scenarios and words over and over in his head while you exhaust yourself. Honestly, he’s probably not even processing the majority of your comments, so fixated on his thoughts. And as your screams turn into whimpers and tears begin to dry along your cheeks— too exhausted to keep going, Kuro will finally make his move coming over to comfort you. He’ll wipe away the crusting tears with a personal handkerchief and wrap you in his arms slowly as you hiccup those feelings away. In the end, you don’t remember what you were even screaming and crying about; Kuro too distracted to fully reflect the cause either. The fights are usually too far and few in between, but they are draining, with nothing ever being resolved waiting for the next time it comes around.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Kuro takes a long time, at least compared to the majority of the other idols. And it stems from keeping his guard up— both because of his past haunting him and his natural exterior from being a delinquent, his personality, and his wish to change.

To start, Kuro knows his personality is… rough at least from an outsider’s perspective. He’s aware he’s intimidating, his a wall of a person, and his face doesn’t always convey the intentions in his heart. It’s no secret to anyone that even the softness he has is not easily exposed in his demeanor, nor that his ability to pick and throw grown men isn’t terrifying in itself. Even if you don’t come off as frightened by his rough exterior and bluntness to topics that come off as harsh or off-putting at times pre-relationship, there is a lingering doubt in his mind to rush into things. And this leads to the other point; Kuro wants to change. As mentioned, he’s deeply aware not only of his feeling of being over-driven to a not-so-standard degree but being a delinquent doesn’t come with an easy change. It’s not even the fights that are hard to shake off; it’s all of the mentality, the lessons, and skills that come from that life. He doesn’t want, you know, to see that person he once was. He might still be underneath everything because change is more complicated than people expect. Kuro wants the soul mate relationship he feels; he wants to be the knight, not the villain. He wants the fairy tale love from the stories and movies he watches with his little sister— more than giving in to his jealousy and unsavory thoughts. So he waits. Hoping that things can change, not progress.

And the other reason I touched on a little before. His guard has to be still and shaking when getting into a relationship is not easy. Kuro wants to relax, give in, and just let things happen. But being a delinquent means always being on guard, and his softness, while a strength can only be shown in small amounts, tries to keep himself safe. It falters around you more than others, even more as time goes on, but it takes a long time to chip away that shield. And the other guard is, like I said— Kuro knows delinquents make enemies. He has plenty, and while being a famous idol can protect him more so now others might seek revenge on his sister or you. It’s one of the key factors that both hinder and progresses his yandere tendencies because if his guard is up, you can’t love him back, and you won’t be a target. But you’re around him anyway… and it’s unlikely that delinquents care to verify a relationship’s true nature as long as it’s exploitable.

Between these contradicting factors, it takes months. This is beneficial for Kuro means everything can play out, and fall into a relationship like an average couple. One void is his tendencies fogging up the back of his mind, eating away at his heart. It genuinely starts off simple… progressing into seeing him while he sews— one of the few times he lets down his guard— and hanging out with him more and more. It turns into bringing you lunch and hands brushing over each other. It’s hard to suspect him of doing anything wrong, or thinking anything wrong. His rough exterior becomes a flustering teasing point that makes his ears burn, chin buried in his hand. And the bluntness is useful. Asking you out is direct. It’s effortless and more of a command, so you can only blush and agree when the time finally comes. Kuro doesn’t need to snap or to lure you into something. He’s one of the few that isn’t genuinely trapping you, but that doesn’t change the manipulation and fear dripping down his heart; one day, you’ll see past his facade to the delinquent locked away but never truly gone.

[sunsbled-archive]

@thebaptized​     /     unprompted      /      selenè & vincent      /      accepting After having already chased off his pursuers , she finally gets a good look at his face and noticed the cut on his lip ; discolored skin surrounding the socket around his eye . " Please allow me to clean you up before you go. "

there’s a  small chuckle that escapes when fingertips brush up to glide  over his face.   yeah, they certainly got him good now that he feels the bumps and bruises scattered ‘cross his features.  great- maverick was going to have his head if he returned to their temporary hideout in this state.    he tilts his head back, exhales and closes his eyes with a soft  frown; there’s a certain sting of guilt he has grown so used to over the years that it’s easy to ignore even if he knows he should logically feel bad for just bursting in here like this and disrupting everything. yet he finds an odd comfort in the kindness he is offered; most people would simply kick him out the second the air was clear - it’s understandable, really. who’d want someone who was clearly chased by criminals any -where near them for longer than necessary? but even so, despite his understanding of  that  he’s grateful for someone showing concern for once, so rather than simply apologize and leave he sinks down, sits & leans against the wall with a small chuckle      - all rough & breathless   thanks to the sting in his lungs -       and a nod.       ❛  i appreciate the offer, dear, but i don’t wanna get ya’ in trouble, y’know?  ❜        his voice is low, quiet, even when he tries to speak a little louder the more he continues.        maybe it was a bad idea to go to a “stakeout” alone.

though it doesn’t take more than a glance at the woman that practically saved him to shrug and nod. maybe it’s not guilt he’s feeling, maybe it’s just not being used to feeling indebted to someone. it feels weird, being the one in need of help for once.  ❛  'm not exactly a harmless person, according to the news. ❜     he offers as a weak explanation before his stance shifts just a little.   he’s tense, thanks to the horrible sensation in his shoulders  but  it doesn’t stop him from sliding his jacket off ‘fore he holds it out with a grin.     ❛  's pretty cold, ‘n maybe ‘s me bein’ used to warmer weather but i get cold just looking at you,         ma’am. ❜   it’s a decent excuse to use;  plus it isn’t like he’s not actually used to a far warmer climate by now. so rather than admit that he’s feeling like it is a fever he’s developing he’ll just use that and hope for the best.  it’s up to her if she takes the jacket or not anyways.    though it takes less  than a second for him to lean back again,     to soak in the pain and to  understand that yeah, he fucked up, and yeah, he’s in a hell of a lot of trouble.     ❛  my first instinct is to ask for a cigarette but y’know ... if you can just help  me  get  to  the  cuts on my back that’s more  than enough help.            ya’ already helped me a ton, anyways.  ❜  

[cube-cumb3r]

The Means Reflect On The Ends Actually, (c!Dream & the conditioning of Exile)

What was the point of exile, storywise? What does it say about c!Dream? Sure, it’s showcasing how far he’s willing to go to achieve his own ends, but I don't think all discussion about what exile tells us about c!Dream should start and end there.

Dream is not cruel for cruelty’s sake. Dream’s end goal is not to hurt as many people as possible. He views his cruelty are “necessary evils”, and he doesn’t dwell much on whether the things he does are “good” or “bad”. He’s fully aware he’s hurting people and he ultimately thinks that hurting people, to the extent that he does, is worth it. That being said, while Dream has an ends justify the means mindset, but the truth is, the means absolutely reflect on the ends. His true intentions aren’t a mystery, it’s very clear in the text that his ultimate goal is unity, but why does he want unity? And what would said unity entail?

(Before this essay starts I have to do an ad break to promo @daggryet's very helpful [transcriptions from the exile streams], which I'll be using a lot of. Thanks for the very helpful resource.)

TW: Relatively extensive discussion abt the abuse in exile arc & the effects of said abuse.

Firstly, I don't think you should deny his relationship to control. A through-line of his character is achieving harmony through control, and more specifically, obedience. There’s a reason why he tends to single out Tommy the most. It’s not actually because Tommy is remarkably more troublesome than anyone else on the server, but rather, because his disruptive nature is at Dream’s expense. Tommy is the only character who’s consistently over and over again refused to respect Dream’s authority, and though he isn’t particularly threatening on his own, it’s the sentiment itself that’s dangerous. Similarly, this is why he has consistently targeted L’manburg, moreso than any other faction on the server such as, say, Badlands, El Rapids. It’s almost as if they represented the sentiment, “Hey, why are we listening to you anyway? Why can’t we be listening to anyone else?”, which is why he crushed them, over, and over again. What if everyone figures out they can just stop listening to him? What then?

We talk a lot about the effects exile had on Tommy, and rightfully so, but we don’t talk enough about what Dream was actually doing. What was the purpose of exile? Was it just a way to get closer to the discs? Just a means to an end? What was the end?

TOMMY: What, what could you possibly want more from me? You’ve tortured me.

DREAM: I’m just keeping an eye on you, Tommy.

TOMMY: What does that mean?!

DREAM: I’m just, I’m making sure that you’re not up to no good.

TOMMY: But, how, you’ve exiled me, you fucking stupid, manipulative fucking green bastard!

DREAM: I know! And you know why I did that?

TOMMY: Yes? 

DREAM: No, you know why?

TOMMY: Why?

DREAM: Because you don’t listen to me ever, you’re the only person who doesn’t ever listen to me. If I tell you to do something, you’re like “no, fuck you!”, and you go and like do like the exact opposite.

[full transcription]

As much as I have to preface this with that this is speculative and we may not have any irrefutable confirmation, I think it's very likely that it's literally just what Dream is saying he's doing. Tommy is the one person who refuses to listen to him, and he wants him to listen. Exile was not only conditioning Tommy to believe that nobody other than Dream cares about him, not only conditioning Tommy to be entirely reliant on him, but also conditioning Tommy to listen to him, without question, without disobeying. And that is such a significant and reoccurring motif for it to arguably just be the intended reading of exile.

Abuse is a vague term that encompasses a lot of abusive practices. There are a good handful that apply to exile, I'm sure if you ask someone qualified they'll be able to provide you a nice handy list, but ultimately, all of them target Tommy's own sense of agency and autonomy, and it all revolves around power and control. Dream creates rituals purely to disarm him, threatens him and punishes him when he doesn't listen, and rewards him when he complies (or rather, conditions Tommy into thinking that not being punished is a reward).

TOMMY: [begins throwing his armor and axe down for DREAM to explode.]

DREAM: No, no, it’s fine.

TOMMY: Re-really?

DREAM: Yeah. Today’s the party, right?

---

TOMMY: So when can I- no, I wanna go back. I… hey, thanks for letting me keep my armour today.

DREAM: You’re welcome.

TOMMY: Kinda nice of you.

[full transcription]

Dream isn’t only hurting Tommy for the sake of hurting him. People tend to frame it as if Dream Just Hates Tommy, but that’s not true. He finds Tommy fun, in a twisted way. There are a lot of moments in exile where they’re both on very good terms and Dream is friendly with Tommy. But, it's also all part of horror of exile, making Tommy reliant on him and his company, getting him to doubt his sense of reality, making him question whether his friends back in L’manburg ever cared about him at all, and possibly questioning whether he’s imagining the abuse as well, Dream is so kind to him after all, why would he ever want to hurt him?

Over the course of exile Tommy agency and sense of self start to deteriorate as well as his mental health, he starts worrying about what Dream would think, starts asking Dream for permission, going out of his way to avoid upsetting him, his only friend, his only reliable caring companion.

TOMMY: Yeah, so I’m thinking we- and then I can- but the thing is; so recently my buddy, Dream, has been doing this thing where he, uhm… it makes sense, though, because I’m not in his land anymore, but he takes my shit from me, so I need to make sure- […]

---

RANBOO: Yeah, so what do you say- does Dream like take your armor? Is that what you said?

TOMMY: I don’t know, he just- hey man, I just follow the boss.

[full transcription]

TOMMY: “Visit Techno” no, no, what would Dream think? […]

---

TOMMY: I’ve had a little idea, by the way, and I wanna know what you think, and also if I’m allowed

DREAM: Okay?

[full transcription]

TOMMY: Yeah, I know he’s actually - he’s sort of my- he’s borderline my owner, Big Q, so I’m not really sure.

MEXICAN DREAM: He’s your dad?

TOMMY: No, no-

MEXICAN DREAM: Ey! Ey, Papa Thomas!

TOMMY: No, no, we’re- as in labor.

MEXICAN DREAM: You gotta teach your child some manners.

[full transcription]

Dream’s outburst in exile after finding Tommy’s chests, is arguably one of Dream's most emotionally honest (and reckless) moments in exile considering it was what made Tommy realize he needed to save himself and escape. And it's punishing Tommy for going behind his back and planning to revolt.

TOMMY: I’m really, no, I’m really sorry, though. Why don’t we just pretend this never- yeah, let’s, shall we just pretend this-?

DREAM: Sorry doesn’t cut it, Tommy. Listen, I’ll leave you here to think about what you did-

TOMMY: What about the nether? What about the nether, my friends, what-?

DREAM: No! You can’t go to the nether, no one can come here, you are alone, okay? As soon as I think that you have changed, have become somebody who isn’t going to hide and lie and try and revolt; then people can visit you again. You can go to the nether again. But for now - no, no one can. You- I was being very lenient. Yesterday I let you go into the Dream SMP on a temporary pass, and then what do I find out the next day?

TOMMY: I’m so sorry.

DREAM: I have been nothing but gracious to you. Tommy. Think about what you did.

---

Exile wasn’t only a means to getting closer to the discs or getting Tommy out of the way. Exile was a means to conditioning Tommy into listening and respecting Dream as his superior. Dreams solution to Tommy being disruptive and troublesome was to [physically beat], emotionally abuse, and psychologically condition him into obedience. Only seeing exile as a testament to how far how willing he was go to meet his ends is reductive, and not acknowledging what Dream considers to be a “problem” and what he considers to be “solutions” is to not engage with his worldview. You have to take exile into account and what it actually says about his ideals of harmony and unity.

---

TOMMY: I can’t go back… I can’t go back, and see my friends and see Tubbo. This is a shithole! He wasn’t- he wasn’t here ‘cause he was my friend. He was here to- what did he say on the first day? Got a little bug that he can’t flig off? I’m the only person who never does exactly what he says?

TOMMY: I’m the only person who never does what he says. Me! He said that to me, didn’t he?

TOMMY: He was here to watch me.

[full transcription]

Dream’s relationship to Tommy can (and honestly should) be compared to his relationship to the entire server at large. Not to imply that He Literally Wants To Abuse The Server, but rather the he views the server revolting as a problem, and the solution? Well. The [prison]. The hall of attachments. It’s no surprise that the disc war, a conflict that was initially only primarily between Dream and Tommy*, is suddenly about everyone. Bargaining and blackmailing using attachments, something Dream initially only subjected Tommy to, to keep him under his control, is now a means to control everyone.

Is Dream's goal of unity for the sake of the overall happiness and quality of life of the people living within said unity? I don’t doubt that this at some point in time was true. But, the fact that he’s willing to ruin lives and long-term psychologically destroy people over it, means that his goal isn’t unity for the sake of the people living in his ideal version of the server, but at their expense. Him believing he needs to control people to maintain unity and harmony means that he believes himself to know what's best for people moreso than the people themselves, and therefore he's the only one responsible enough to make decisions for them. And it also means that his motives has warped and twisted overtime, it’s likely that he’s become so fixated on the goal of unity itself that he’s lost track of why he wanted it in the first place.

Anyway. Stop buying into Dream's own self-justification of "ends justify the means" and put his deeply flawed and broken worldview and view of people under a little bit of goddam scrutiny.

[crossdressingdeath]

1/9 - So I’m going to go on a bit of a tangent here, so let me know if any of this doesn’t send thanks to tumblr haha. in reference to your comments about the Guanyin Temple core transfer convo...we’ve got to talk about that scene. Because seriously when JC and WWX discuss the golden core reveal in the temple, JC’s behaviour is actually appalling. He openly mocks WWX, to the point where WWX is actually

2/9 shocked because while he knew JC wouldn’t just forgive him if he knew the truth, he was shocked by how “unkind” he was being. It was so bad that WWX, who has grown up with JC’s immature tantrums, felt like this was way too harsh. And then without ANY prompting - literally all WWX says is “I never asked you to thank me” - JC of course takes that as an insult to him. Starts acting like WWX is bragging and saying that JC isn’t as good as him - and in this scene he is so much like his mother

3/9 it’s creepy. He sounds irrational, insane even. Twisting everyone’s words. He starts screaming about how WWX thinks he’s better than him, tries to PHYSICALLY ATTACK WWX - seriously how anyone thinks that you can sympathise with this guy is beyond me. The guy is literally just creating problems for himself.

4/9 But then of course we get the part that you were talking about - when WWX says “take it as my repayment to the Jiang sect” and JC - JC OF COURSE feels the need to say “repayment for my father, my mother, my sister.” DAMMIT MAN WWX DID NOT CAUSE THEIR DEATHS. For gods sake, I feel no pity for JC here because he has had YEARS to come to terms with it. WWX did not kill his parents, the wens did. They would have used any excuse to attack - are we seriously going to blame the victim instead of

5/9 the instigators? For example - JYL told Jin ZiXun off for being rude to WWX. At that stage the Jins were probably stronger than the Jiangs, who were still rebuilding. You’re telling me if the Jins retaliated and hurt the Jiang sect, JC would’ve even thought to blame his sister? Or does he ever mention the fact that his mother was insulting the Wens to, regardless of the fact that they were attacking? Like...if you want to talk about bad decisions, at least WWX didn’t know that his actions

6/9 would lead to the Wen sect attacking - YZY could have at least tried to negotiate that situation, she’s an adult and in charge of the sect for Christ’s sake. But nope, she’s allowed to be angry, and it’s totally the teenagers fault. And JYL? Like god, it sucks that she died, and maybe wwx did contribute to that situation, but he did not kill her! JC needs to stop telling everyone, including her son, that he did, because it’s an insult to JYL and the choices she made. Just...JC is ridiculous.

7/9 Wwx gave up everything for him because he loved him that much. His whole life - everything he had worked for - and he asked for nothing in return. He would’ve happily become the villain if only to protect JC’s reputation and peace of mind. And JC is seriously going to twist this situation to make it look like WWX did this to try and be better than him? Like, how badly did your mother mess you up that you think anyone would go through torturous pain,

8/9 and destroy their life’s achievement just to have one up on you? And if WWX really was some kind of power hungry show off, why the hell would he give away the very thing that supposedly makes him better than you, TO YOU, and then NOT TELL YOU ABOUT IT??? Like, what sort of attention seeking narcissist, what JC apparently views WWX as, would do all of that, supposedly for the attention, and then not tell anyone? Where’s the logic????

I’m missing part 9, but yeah. WWX all but outright says “I did this because I wanted to help you, because I care about you, because I didn’t want to see you suffer” and JC twists it into some hero complex bullshit where WWX only did it to one-up him and just... what the fuck? How do people look at this and insist JC was in the right? And even after basically saying that WWX only gave JC his golden core for attention, after thirteen years in which he could’ve looked back and considered what happened, JC still goes for “Well, actually, you were obligated to give up your golden core because you killed my family and that was definitely your fault”. I mean, that’s pretty much what he’s saying! WWX is basically saying “I did this because I love your family and owe them” and JC’s response is “You killed them and you have to pay for that”. I mean... thirteen years. He’s had thirteen years as a sect leader to realize that the Wens would have attacked anyway, that JYL chose to save WWX even at the cost of her own life, and he’s still spewing this “It’s all your fault” bullshit.

And if the Jins had retaliated against the Jiangs for fighting with JZXun it would, of course, be all WWX’s fault for refusing to sit quietly and let himself be insulted. Just like it’s all his fault Lotus Pier fell, and YZY antagonizing the Wens had nothing to do with it. WWX is an easy target for JC to blame things on; his rank is entirely reliant on JC and he won’t argue if the blame is coming from a Jiang. He’s not going to disagree or lash out. If JC comes up with a reason, he can do anything he likes to WWX and WWX won’t do anything about it. It takes WWX dying, coming back, and spending a lot of time with LWJ (who treats him like a person worthy of love and respect and not a convenient scapegoat even when using him as such would save LWJ a lot of trouble) before he even begins to acknowledge that the way JC treats him isn’t okay. JC has spent his entire life blaming WWX from everything from his dogs being taken away to his father not loving him enough to him not being an extraordinary cultivator to the Wens attacking because WWX won’t fight it. 

Honestly? Even the fact that JC thinks WWX would do anything for the sake of showing JC up shows that JC never actually bothered to get to know WWX. Like, he seriously thinks WWX wants to show him up, make him look bad. Even if we set aside the fact that no one would go through that much pain and suffering and keep quiet about it for so long just to get one over on someone else, what the actual fuck JC, we’re talking about WWX here. The guy who slacked off on training and held himself back right up until war broke out because he didn’t want JC to feel like he was overshadowed. The guy who was always the one to start fights before JC got a chance to so that JC wouldn’t get in trouble. The guy who spent over a decade taking the blame for everything they did wrong and praising JC at every opportunity even when it wasn’t deserved to make JC’s parents proud of him. And JC is saying that guy would have given up his incredibly powerful golden core, crippling himself at the beginning of a war, losing huge amounts of power and drastically shortening his lifespan... just to make JC look bad. He thinks WWX would go out of his way and hurt himself that much to make JC look weaker.

Of course, the reasoning is, I think, fairly obvious: JC would never sacrifice his golden core if he didn’t get something from it so clearly WWX must have an ulterior motive! Except there’s no ulterior motive big enough to make giving up your golden core worth it, so he has to come up with some bullshit about hero complexes and showing off to justify it. He’s just falling into the same pit as so many other jackasses: not realizing that not everyone operates solely based on self-interest.

[sebastianshaw]

(Shaw’s not normally a character who engenders sympathy from me but I do feel a bit bad about someone cutting him off dismissively when he’s talking about something he’s clearly passionate about---we’ve all been there, dude, it sucks--particularly when this is one of the few times he’s NOT being disparaging or abrasive to someone, quite the reverse, but is treated like it anyway. So fix-it fic deployed, with Haven because she’s classy, she’s one of the only people who would put up with him, and I like her, she’s my consistent fave.)

“Come now, you have this,” Shaw encouraged. “I don’t, I really don’t,” Haven assured him in defeat. “You can NOT be at a complete loss. Just guess the family.” “Mr Shaw, I assure you, I truly have no idea. I don’t even know what the “families” are for whiskey. It’s....bourbon?” He sighed, “It’s scotch, Ms. Dastoor. Specifically it’s---nevermind, it’s my turn. You pick.” Haven selected a bottle and poured. He accepted the tumbler, sniffed delicately, and tasted it. “Lemon and orange peel with notes of vanilla andchocolate. Floral with light oak notes. Spices and boiled sweets on the palate.” Haven looked at the back of the bottle, confirming he was correct, “That is really quite amazing. You’re sure you didn’t know in advance?” “If you doubt my veracity you’re welcome to test me with ANYTHING in your own private stores,” Shaw replied. “I don’t keep private stores,” she replied,  “I’m really not a drinker at all.” “Well, now, I feel most unsportsmanlike then,” he replied, though his tone and face suggested otherwise. He really had hardly expected she’d be anything less than a teetotaler. But she didn’t seem offended, just curious. “Can you do this with everything?” “I’ve always had a very keen nose---I can do the same thing with perfumes and colognes, your Damask rose oil is quite tasteful--but this is the most enjoyable use of it.” “And the most impressive, I must say. I’m really shocked at how much you can detect in these.” she looked at the back of the bottle again. “I appreciate that. It is not so much impressive here. That’s why I asked you for this instead of a local.” “What do you mean?” she looked back at him, putting the bottle down. “To be impressive, others must be impressed,” he explained, “It’s a feat that by definition relies on the reaction of others. The reception of most Krakoans to my talent is lukewarm at best.” “Really? Why is that?” “They believe I think myself better than them, and they are correct,” it was said flatly, bluntly, and matter-of-factly, without shame or apparent awareness there should be any. “Most people would not say that,” Haven pointed out, though there was no apparent judgement in her own tone. “I’m not most people, Ms. Dastoor. I don’t believe in false modesty. I am good at this. I also enjoy the finer things in life, and I have a right to---I earned it, after all. But, somehow, this is considered detestable.” She shrugged one shoulder lightly, “Indulgence is typically considered a sin in many faiths.” “Somehow I doubt their disdain is based in religion, though I’d find that no less contemptuous. I’m an avowed atheist, Ms. Dastoor, I hardly find it acceptable for someone to be sneering at me because their superstitions wish to erode on my right to free will. But no, it’s less what I’m doing, and more that it is me doing it. You’re a perceptive woman---you’ve surely noticed I’m not particularly popular.” “I have,” she said evenly,  “I’ve also noticed you seem in no hurry to make yourself more so.” Again, there was no judgement in the tone. Merely observation. Likewise, Shaw’s tone continued to be completely even, neutral. “I notice, Ms. Dastoor. I simply don’t care. Even as a poor man, endearing myself to others mattered little to me. And as a successful one, it matters even less, as I no longer need approval from them to, say, stay employed.” “I think you know I greatly value the feelings of others myself, Mr. Shaw, and accordingly, kindness and politeness. But I can also admire the personal fortitude it takes to cast aside the concern of how one will be seen. I’ve felt the scrutiny myself for who I am, and how I choose to live my life.” “I find that doubtful, Ms. Dastoor. You stay very much within the societal dictations of how one must behave---you offend none, you surrender to all, you share wealth as if you have no right NOT to, you behave in every way as will bring you the adoration and approval of others who believe that such personal and financial submission is the only acceptable way for anyone, especially anyone of means, to behave without being demonized.” “I won’t deny that other people have been very kind to me, and it is likely in part because of my own behavior in many cases; cause and effect are a natural occurrence, after all, and most people are inclined to be “nice” to those who are “nice” to them. But whose standards I conform to are a matter of perspective, both personal and cultural. I was raised as an obedient daughter in a conservative culture, but I ran away against my parents wishes to fulfill my own desires, even if those desires were what most people would consider “good”. I received a higher education in a country where even now the mere literacy rate for women is only 53 percent. I was the inheritor of my parents wealth, not my brother, and I never married. Yet, in the West, I have been derided, especially by other women who consider themselves proponents of female empowerment, as too submissive, as a handmaiden of patriarchy, as a living embodiment of female stereotypes, as someone who must change my natural temperment and core beliefs to be more in line with what they perceive as best for me, all women of my race, and all of female-kind, else I deserve any ill-treatment I receive from them or at the hands of men. And quite a few of the causes I championed brought me no love from a great many people who never even met me---that’s why I was invited to be a part of helping Krakoa in the first place.” Her voice never raised or altered during this. It was, as ever, clear that she wasn’t offended at all. Merely explaining. Shaw regarded her quietly for a moment, curled fingers under his square chin, dark eyes analyzing as though looking at what she’d just told him in his head. “I grant you have put yourself at personal risk for your pro-mutant beliefs,” he said after a moment, “And I think that is foolish of you, as it has no benefit for you to do so and much drawback. But I do admit it shows you are not as completely spineless as you at first seem.” “Why, thank you, Mr. Shaw. That’s positively glowing praise from you,” she sounded slightly amused, but sincere. “It is,” he said flatly, “And my praise being rare means that, however small it might be, it can always be trusted.” “Do you imply you don’t trust mine?” Again, she sounded amused, almost playful. “I do not “trust” in general in anyone, on any matter, Ms. Dastoor.” “Is it not sometimes lonely? You do not trust, you do not care to be liked...it seems very self-isolating.” She was looking at him extremely kindly, and he never liked it when she did that. It was unsettling. “No. I don’t believe that’s something I experience.” Haven was indeed perceptive, as he had said, and she could tell he was not lying. He really did not---or believed he did not---have a need for company. It was not truly a surprise; she had also seen that he truly did not care for the dislike of others, whereas most people who claimed they ‘didn’t care what anyone thinks’ were usually lying to themselves and cared immensely. But Sebastian Shaw was as genuinely disconnected from these things as he claimed, or almost. She thought he overestimated himself and his emotional self-sufficiency just a bit---but not by much. Which was..very typical of him. “In that case, I’m truly flattered by the invitation to be in your company,” she smiled, “It means you actually enjoy it, and not that you’re merely desperate for someone to accept your presence without hostility.” “Correct,” he said, picking up one of the empty glasses, “I don’t find you completely unbearable. Even if your palate is truly dismal. But if you’re not used to drinking, I think I know what issue might be impeding it---the distracting sting of alcohol. I also have a solution.” He got up, “Let’s try some tea blends.”

[bastart13]

i dont really like asking on tumblr(clunky imo, captchas) and i feel like ive asked this question before but it never sent for some reason?? idk anyway i wanted to know more about your original dr characters(52nd season) esp ami cause i like her :)

I don’t remember getting this ask, so I assume it must have sent incorrectly or something.

But thank you for the interest :D I wrote little bios (under the cut due to how many characters there are)

Manahiko Tachibana-Ultimate BakerHe’s spoiled sweet from growing up in a rich household where he got everything he wanted. His only skill in cooking is with baking. If he tries anything else, it’s an ungodly mess despite following the instructions. He likes how other people enjoy his food, going around the poorer neighbourhoods so he could cheer people up and be praised. He likes the attention he gets from helping others so his selfless actions are always a bit selfish.

Hanko Sasaki- Ultimate Watercolour ArtistVery mellow and hard to keep focused on anything for a long time. Most of her pictures are unfinished. She’s kindly and supportive, liking to see art in the small good things that people miss. She’s very observant. She’s also a dreamer who’s often lost in fantasies, particularly of romance.

Sohashi Shimizu-Ultimate BodyguardHe’s quiet and stoic, being very difficult to get a reaction out of. He hides that he’s partially blind for fear of people not hiring him as it in no way inhibits his awareness or ability to protect people. He loves listening to quiet sounds and touching soft things so he grows an attachment to children and small animals very quickly. He’s self-sacrificial in his job which is an issue with his over-attachment.

Keiji Yamazaki-Ultimate BoxerA bit vain and very lazy despite being a fantastic athlete. He’s not overly bulky but has a very quick metabolism which allows him to compete in lots of different weight groups. He’s a natural talent so he finds it hard to find the motivation to train without someone pushing him. He’s quite reliant on other people to make decisions.

Toshi Kamiya-Ultimate ClocksmithHe used to be a highly arrogant person who believed himself to be the best, however when his arrogance led to his brother getting into a serious accident he developed serious anxiety that made him withdraw. He seriously wants to get better but he never learnt how to handle himself so he flip-flops between being very arrogant and brash, and quiet and nervous. He’s quite bad with other people because of it despite being pretty extroverted.

Tamotsu Arakaki-Ultimate FirefighterTamotsu is very brave and acts like a traditional superhero; valuing justice, putting other people before himself, and trying to save other people. He’s friendly and supportive but somewhat closed off personally. Getting close to other people, but not saying much about himself. He doesn’t put much value on himself due to his former abusive family before he ran away and was taken in by the woman in charge of the fire station. He takes debts to other people very seriously and would never break a promise.

Nori Himura- Ultimate Forensic ExpertShe’s intelligent and proud. She uses her talent to keep herself busy rather than to help people. She can be very uncooperative because she acts apathetic about other people, thinking herself superior. It’s very hard to get her to care about anything so she kind of just goes along with the moment regardless of her environment.

Yumi Oono- Ultimate HypotistAn intelligent and comforting young girl. She likes harmless pranks such as adding funny quirks through hypnotism. She can be quite self-absorbed despite being a good listener, prioritising herself over others.

Hitomi Tsukino- Ultimate JewellerA very kindly girl but fiercely independent. She was refused from being able to join her family’s business so she created her own jeweller from scratch, ending up beating out her family’s almost single-handedly. She doesn’t like being told she needs help or can’t do something. She’s very charismatic and savvy when it comes to other people.

Masanori Rin-Ultimate JudgeHe has a firm sense of justice and that things will turn out alright for people who act rightly. He can be a bit naïve but that naiveite means that he goes into everything with no preconceived ideas, allowing him to be impartial. He doesn’t tend to do things himself but he’s great at organising and helping other people with their tasks. However, he won’t make any decisions unless he’s sure that he has all the information which makes him a bit slow.  (He and Katsuo grew up together)

Eri Ohayashi-Ultimate LuckShe’s very superstitious and nervous. She’s dependant on her lucky charms and breaks down when she faced with unlucky events due to her family telling her that she was a curse when she was born. She’s reserved and doesn’t really like being around other people so she can strictly control her environment.

Katsuo Kaneko-Ultimate SurgeonA very frugal and greedy boy who’s only in it for the money due to his poverty-stricken upbringing. His emotional detachment allows him to stay calm and he gets annoyed very quickly at people who lecture him as he’s very stubborn about how he goes about things. He’s honest and straightforward with people most of the time. (He and Masanori grew up together)

Misoko Nakashima- Ultimate TailorShe looks cold and intimidating but she’s very sweet in personality. She loves traditional romantic acts and themes. She’s very proud in her skills as a tailor but wishes she could design more despite her lack of creativity. She’s a bit insecure and irritable when people criticise her designs.

Aimi Yoshida- Ultimate Voice ActorA bit of a prankster who loves throwing people off with her vocal range and laughing at their reactions. She’s generally sensible when it comes to important things except for money where she throws all sense out of the window and is very impulsive when buying pretty things. She’s a bit of a moocher when she’s run out. She likes having fun with other people and finds it hard to be alone. (Fun fact: she’s trans in reference to  Madeleine Joan Blaustein)

[devnny]

CHAPTER SIX.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

is it really chapter six already. good lord. this one is PRETTY ZESTY. devi is big mad.... or is she??? [dramatic music]

Dear Diary,

WHAT JOY!

I met with Devi again tonight, and she still wants to mentor me! Forget all my previous musings about drinking rat poison or slamming an iron maiden door on myself.

I can hardly wait for the rest of this night and tomorrow’s day to pass so it will be night again and I can go over!! I will be a better student now, with no stabbing to be had, I swear it.

--

Johnny’s hand shook as he wrote, his bones rattling with excitement that what he scrawled on his diary’s pages was really true and not some lovely illusion his brain thought up to deal with immense emotional pain. He was almost salivating in manic joy – Devi was so un-enraged! Her screaming and threats of violence the last time he was in her apartment were so scary, and he had expected the same treatment tonight, BUT NO! She was angry but she was forgiving! Well, to an extent. SO EXCITING!

“You see, Johnny?” Meat kept his voice as kind as he could. “Giving in to your feelings isn’t so bad.”

Johnny paid him an annoyed pout before returning to his gleeful wandering about the house. He had nothing to do with his energy besides move – or maybe he should draw? Devi would be pleased with that!

“You must agree with me this time.”

“HUSH! You will not ruin this for me.” Johnny spoke as he gathered up the pens and pencils he had splayed across the floor several nights ago. He plucked them up like flowers into his hand, shuffling along the floor with his knees bent.

“I’m not trying to ruin anything for you, Johnny boy!” The ceramic grinned. “I told you, I’m trying to help you! And look, expressing your feelings made that Devi girl happy, didn’t it?”

Johnny stood, his bushel of art supplies tucked to his chest, and thought over Meat’s statement.

“Hmm.” He looked off. Meat’s smile didn’t waver.

“It was that heartfelt-ness that moved her. She’s happy with you.”

Johnny scoffed, though his heart quickened at the concept of Devi being ‘happy’ with him.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, meaty-guy. Devi isn’t happy-happy, she’s just not on the verge of bludgeoning me! I will have to do much more than apologize if I want to make her… happy.”

“You’re right! Why not go out and buy her some candies. Write her a poem, perhaps?” Meat suggested. Johnny brushed him off again.

“NO, no, none of your stupid interjecting.” He brought up his double palmful of pens and pencils. “Drawing will make her more pleased than food and words.”

Meat sucked in a sigh, irritated, but made no attempt to argue.

-

THE FOLLOWING DAY:

“No, it went… surprisingly well, actually.” Devi spoke into her headset as she whisked the bristles of her brush inside a jar.

“OH?” Tenna’s voice pitched from the headphones.

“Yeah, he blabbered on about how he’s stupid and completely reliant on instinct, as far as his attacks go, anyway. He reacts without thought when he feels victimized, and regrets it, wants to control it, blah blah blah…” Devi tapered off, deciding to not bring up whatever his deal was with her eyes and how he loves them, or, whatever that was. Tenna hummed a high note.

“That’s good, but also kinda, a problem, isn’t it?” She asked.

“Not a problem I’m not willing to handle.” Devi replied, tabbing her paintbrush across her canvas. Tenna tsss’d at her.

“You’re okay to deal with… potentially life-threatening attacks?”

“I had to be when I started this stupid venture; knowing the cause of it is at least something to work with. Besides,” Her mouth pulled up into a smile. “I have an idea of how to work it out of him.”

“That sounds rather ominous.” Tenna said, and Devi cackled back.

“He needs exposure.” She spoke confidently. “If he learns how to process little bits of cruelty properly, he can learn to bite his metaphorical tongue until controlling his outbursts is easy.”

Tenna made a face over the phone.

“You’re just going to be mean to him until he gets used to it??”

“Exactly. And then maybe I’ll be nice after.”

“DOESN’T THAT SEEM… KINDA DANGEROUS?” Tenna tried to reason with her. “That’s like poking at a rabid dog with a big stick!! That’s like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull!”

“He doesn’t scare me.” Devi punctuated the sentence with a harsh dot on her canvas. “And he better know better than to piss me off at this point.”

“He doesn’t know SHIT.”

Devi laughed at that.

“I’m just going to be critiquing him harder instead of being so gentle about it. Why am I coddling his low self-esteem, anyway? He needs to hear it, and he needs to get used to it.” She assured her friend. “It’s not like I’m just going to be rude to him from the minute he gets here and bully him until he leaves.”

“Oh…” Tenna frowned. “Well, I guess that’s a little better, but still… you should be careful with him.”

“He’s had his chance for me being careful and nice.” She bit out. “Anyway, I need to work on this before Johnny shows up, so I’ll talk to you later I guess.”

“HEE-HEE. You know, one thing I like about this Nny guy is that you talk to me more now that he’s around to bug you.” Tenna grinned cheekily at the phone, as if Devi could see.

“You called me.”

“But you answered!” Tenna chimed, and Devi shook her head.

“Bye, Ten.”

-

6:00PM (SHARP!):

Johnny knocked on the door, proud of the promptness of his arrival. He had a large rolled paper and his pencil bag tucked under his other arm, and he bounced on his heels impatiently as he waited for Devi to answer. His shoulders cocked back when he heard the locks undoing, and the smile he wore pushed out wide.

“Hi!” He greeted her excitedly as the door opened, and Devi stared at him with a confused, open-mouth half-smile.

“Hey, Nny.” She knew he was glad to be closer to her good graces than not, but he seemed like he might burst with excitement just standing there.

“I drew while I was away!” Johnny declared eagerly, jutting the paper tube toward her with his free hand. Devi looked down to it in surprise before taking it from him gingerly.

“Oh,” She hesitated. “—good, good.”

She waited a beat, wondering why he was just standing there expectantly, before realizing that she was blocking the doorway and turned to the side to allow him in. Johnny quickly entered, immediately making his way to his ‘spot’ at the coffee table. He sat on the floor and hurriedly emptied the contents of his bag onto the table, sorting the materials of his workspace across its surface without hesitation. Devi watched him with some surprise – she had never seen him so eager to start one of their little sessions. She chalked it up to his misguided idea that she had ‘forgiven’ him, and closed the door.

As she plopped down onto the couch, Johnny perked up, hopeful that she would be pleased with the drawings he offered. Devi unfurled the paper, and raised her eyebrows at the unexpected attempts at realism. This reaction only served to kindle Johnny’s excitement further.

“I only had some garbage things to use as models, but the shadows were very difficult.” He commented as he watched her eyes wander over the page.

Devi couldn’t say she wasn’t impressed with his efforts. It was more like something out of a preteen’s art class, but it was a big jump from stick figures, that was for sure. And his subjects certainly were garbage; a crushed can, a tissue wad, empty cups, bent silverware – but you could tell that’s what they were supposed to be, at least! Some of the light sources were wrong, but his hard, erratic lines had an amount of personality to them that she liked.

A breath sucked in between her teeth. This was such an improvement, she would feel awful to hit him with some rough criticism right off the bat. Ugh, damn her bleeding heart.

“These are…” The lump in her throat fell, unable to squash his enthusiasm. “—great, Nny. Really great.”

Johnny’s eyes glimmered back at her, his smile barely able to keep hold on his face while he absorbed her praise, his jaw instead wanting to hang open. He hinged it shut again after a moment, bringing a grin back up with him as he swallowed. He wanted to scream his elation at the top of his lungs and barrage Devi with insistent ‘thank you’s, but managed to keep the words trapped wafting around in his chest like a bubble.

“Thank you.” He exhaled, eyes on the table.

Devi inched back further on the couch, second-guessing her decision to praise him. She knew that’s what he wanted to hear, and maybe it was a bad idea to give him what he wanted so soon. Or maybe she was spiteful, and it rubbed her wrong to reward him regardless. Could be either. She had no time to dwell on it, and tapped the table with her knuckle to garner his attention.

“I’ll be expecting even more from you now, Nny.” She told him, somewhere between approval and a warning. The nervous smile he held made Devi feel a little better about her small act of kindness.

-

SOME TIME LATER:

Part of her felt badly every time Johnny’s eyes fell as she critiqued his work, but the other part of her felt absolute, pure, vindictive satisfaction every time she got the chance to. She felt like an evil middle school art teacher, holding the poor self-esteem of the nasty little student that continuously misbehaved in class, tight in her unforgiving claws. He looked so disappointed – whether it was in his efforts, or that she didn’t readily applaud him, she didn’t know – but Devi would remind herself, and him, that you don’t improve by being lied to with sweet words.

But then she would throw him a compliment about the lining on something, or the perspective on this, or the dialogue here, and that was enough to keep his engine chugging along.

In her now very limited free time, she would brag to Tenna that her plan was working rather well. At a point, as the weeks wore on, Johnny had come to expect the harsh comments from her and would brace himself accordingly. Devi felt some pride each time she saw his jaw tighten; a subtle physical indication that he was holding something back, holding something in. The evidence that he could, in fact, control himself in any small increment, was promising.

So she tried harsher words – words that would warm her own face as they passed from her brain out of her mouth. “Ugly” or “stupid”; words that should never go hand-in-hand with mentorship. Aloof interest in his completed projects, asking him cruel questions, like if he truly felt this was “completed”, or if he bothered to try at all.

It was very dangerous. Johnny argued the first few times, aggressive in his own defense, but would shortly quiet himself – very good, Devi thought. That anger being there was the point in all of this. If he made no show of it, there was no indication he was making any improvement in his emotional discipline, and she didn’t want him to be taking her verbal lashings without a fight simply because he respected her. As though his brain digested the vile things she spewed at him without any alarm bells or security measures, because it was her, and she got a free pass.

Tonight was the night she planned to go completely overboard. A ridiculous amount of bitchiness for a multipage comic that certainly didn’t deserve the cruelty she was going to bestow upon it, but would be the necessary martyr, the ever-important climax to this reckless ploy of hers. She informed Tenna that there would indeed be yelling, on her part, this evening, and to please not involve the police. Tenna was free to intervene with the cops, or a big can of mace, if she heard any screams of terror afterward, though.

Johnny had brought the finished comic pages with him, and was none too enthused about handing them over to her. Devi’s heart pounded as she prepared herself for the overly-aggressive response she had been rehearsing in her head for days, and she had prayed to the unmerciful theater-goth gods that she had the salt to maintain her malicious act without even a shake or crack in her voice. And, to like, any other deities, that might want to provide her with a little divine protection from Johnny should he want to lash out physically. That would be nice.

And it was quite a performance; false insult at what he presented her with, biting words about his lack of effort in just about everything, despite knowing well that the pages she just shoved back into his arms where some of his best to date. It pained Devi, a little, to do this to him – to any artist, for that matter. Johnny looked so confused and upset as she yelled at him that he wasn’t taking this seriously, but she forced herself to shut down his counterarguments with even louder shouting. With one more heinous act against him, she slapped the papers out of his hands and onto the floor. Johnny stared at her, pupils narrow as slits, in disbelief.

But still no murder came.

Devi let herself catch her breath with slow, quiet huffs, and feigned a cool head.

“Well?” She asked once she felt like she wouldn’t pant the words out. “Pick them up.”

It was so belittling, so degrading. She could tell from his trembling eyes that the blatant disrespect of it hit its mark, and jumped far down his gullet, twisting and burning up his innards unforgivingly. Devi herself might have stabbed someone for giving her or her art the same treatment. Her body tensed a moment, waiting, listening to Johnny’s heavy breathing, and watching his slender frame twitch and shiver under the weight of his desire for egocentric vengeance.

Devi’s lips parted in surprise when his legs buckled, and he bent slowly onto his knees to pick up the pages scattered between them.

Nothing could have stopped the giant grin that cracked across her face.

As Johnny plucked the last paper from its resting spot, Devi squatted down so she was eyelevel with him, her elbows balanced on her knees. His fingers flinched from her sudden proximity, and the page fell from his grasp, leaving it to be snatched up by Devi. She took a moment to appreciate the panels that had been so neatly inked onto its surface, before lifting her gaze above the paper and to its creator. Johnny’s wide eyes stared at the ground, franticly concentrating on the carpet instead of the woman in front of him. Devi’s smile persisted.

“I bet you’ve killed me a hundred times in your head tonight.” Her voice had a smirk in it. The comment made Johnny flinch again, and he flickered his eyes up to her for only a moment before looking away again, willing himself not to acknowledge such a thing.

“There’s no way you haven’t.” Devi said confidently. “It’s too easy for you.”

Johnny’s mouth bent into a miserable scowl, and he lowered his head further so she wouldn’t see. He was sure that she was mocking him again, this time for how pitiful the restraint on his murderous tendencies was. It wasn’t like he wanted to have those kinds of thoughts about her!

“You could have… I don’t know.” She fanned the page while she thought. “Grabbed me, twisted my arm, broke something… stabbed me, obviously.”

Devi heard the stack of papers in Johnny’s hands crinkle under his tightening grasp, and reminded herself that he could still attack her right now, if he wanted to. She waited a moment, glancing at the rattling movement of bunched stationary from her view above his head, and let her smile perk up again when the shaking stopped. Unbelievable. She’d end this quickly, to be compassionate for once.

“But you know what Johnny?” Her tone was very smug, and Johnny’s lips quivered a bit, knowing she was asking him to respond, to be a part of this conversation. She was so foolish! He was purposefully keeping out of this altercation for her own safety – could she not see that?

Still, he couldn’t deny Devi anything she asked of him at this point. With an unsettling sigh, he urged himself to raise his head to meet her stare. She looked so carelessly arrogant, it was unlike her. He would have carved a face like that right off of anyone else.

“What?” He snapped. Best to keep it short. Devi smiled fully again.

“You didn’t.”

The tension in Johnny’s face fell slack suddenly, and he searched her expression for any kind of hint at what a statement like that from her could mean. It couldn’t be so simple when it was from an angry Devi, but his mind was unable to get ahold of any deeper insult, or allusion to an action previous. He thought for a few seconds, debating what kind of cruel comment that could be – he didn’t? Yes, obviously he didn’t, but what did that have to do with anything, he wondered.

A soft blink brought with it a cool blanket of clarity. He… didn’t. What a strangely obvious, but vastly important note to make. Despite all of her viciousness, all her degrading criticisms, and even some level of physical aggression, he had made no move to strike back. Johnny was dumbfounded a moment longer, and Devi took the opportunity to reach forward and take the remaining pages of his comic from his hands. She stood, taking Johnny’s attention upward with her for a moment, before his eyes dropped to the ground again and scoured the floor while he thought.

She had been testing him! It was so clear to him now! It had been so easy to believe that Devi was just spiteful and unsatisfied with him, he didn’t even stop to consider any other motivations behind her sudden hostile behavior at all. But most importantly; he had passed. Unwittingly, he had passed the intensive test of his will – which he assumed was likely the point, not knowing what she was attempting to do and all.

With the rug pulled out from under him, Johnny had only felt confused at first, but now had a blossoming feeling of accomplishment spreading throughout his chest cavity. An unsure smile sprung up onto his mouth. He moved to join Devi in standing, and felt comfortable, for the first time in weeks, meeting her eyes so casually. She was skimming over his drawings, but looked up to him as he stood.

“If I’m being honest, you’re doing really good, Nny.” She huffed a laugh. “Like, really, really good. I’m all proud and shit.”

That accomplished feeling Johnny had felt a moment ago erupted fully, worming through every nook and cranny of his torso and out to his extremities. Devi was proud of his efforts! She was happy with him, really genuinely happy this time! His uneven smile widened into a clean crescent shape, and Devi laughed at his exhilaration from her comment.

“Screw drawing tonight.” She spoke again, and tossed the pages onto her living room table. “I think I owe you dinner.”

Johnny’s brows rose in surprise.

“What?” He gasped.

“I feel… kinda bad for being so harsh on you.” Devi looked around, not wanting to dwell on it. “And you’ve been diligent and whatnot in your projects so, fuck it, let’s go get noodles. My treat.”

Johnny only stared at her unblinkingly as he attempted to digest his good fortune; praise, smiles, laughter, “proud”, “treat”? All such unfamiliar actions and words – but not unwelcome!

“Uh—sure!” He gleamed. “Yes!”

Devi laughed again, feeling light and airy after bogging herself down with rigorous, exaggerated anger. She threw her coat on as she headed out the door, with Johnny following enthusiastically behind.

--

NEXT.

[flordidian]

Which Anne is more like the book: Sullivan vs. AWAE?

I think this one is much harder than Gilbert. While the differences between the Gilberts is a product of the changes made in the writing, the differences between Follows’ and McNulty’s portrayal of Anne mostly come down to their own interpretation of the book. However, I will make the attempt to distinguish them anyways.

Here goes:

Sullivan Productions Anne

Differences

1. Immaturity

Now, in Anne of Green Gables the books and miniseries, Anne is characterized as immature. But, in Anne of Avonlea the book, Anne is nearing adulthood and acts like it. She is by no means completely mature, but she rarely “loses it” or whines. In fact, she also stops talking all the time. In the miniseries, this is not so. In Anne of Avonlea, Anne is as stubborn and immature as always. Sullivan gives Anne another character’s lines for Anne of Windy Poplars as Anne and Diana talk before Diana’s wedding day which do not reflect her impending adulthood. 

The Anne of the miniseries is a bit more immature and naive than the Anne of the book. I get the impression Sullivan enjoyed Anne’s temper and was sore to be rid of it. Unfortunately, Anne is not allowed to grow up in the miniseries and acts not much different than she did at the end of their first movie.

2. Into an older man

Okay, I know a lot of people thought Morgan Harris was handsome, but to me, he was just old. In the book, the two men Anne shows romantic interest in are Royal Gardner and Gilbert. Both are barely older than her and considered super handsome. Royal is also rich and romantic while Gilbert is funny and smart. Meanwhile Morgan is...well...old. Sure he has some money and I guess he likes Anne, but he has a child and a know-it-all attitude.

Maybe this is splitting hairs, but I think Follows’ Anne is different in that her view of an ideal man is different. In the book, Anne is all hooked on romance; she wants to live as the heroines in her favorite novels do. Meanwhile, the Anne in Anne of Avonlea, the miniseries, is attracted to a man who is rich and old. Instead of having lofty standards for herself, Anne in the miniseries is satisfied marrying whoever happens to come along who is not dreadful. Perhaps this shows a lower sense of pride too.

3. Looking for Gilbert WWI

The whole plot of the Continuing Story bugged me. Why would Anne go to Europe to force her husband against his will to not serve his country? I can find no sense in it. The Anne of the book does not always agree with Gilbert, by they are equal partners. If she knew he felt strongly about something, she would change his mind or accept it, not go gallivanting across a war zone. Instead, Sullivan could have had Anne working as a nurse during WWI and saving lives. And/or using her storytelling skills to raise morale.

The Anne Blythe of the Continuing Story is a far cry from the Anne Blythe of the book. The Anne of the miniseries in the third movie has a much different relationship with Gilbert and thinks far more of herself. 

Similarities

1. Romantic

Anne in all three miniseries movies I have watched is true to the book in her romantic nature. The Anne of the books lives in her own idealistic world which is captured well in Sullivan’s version with Anne’s monologues, writing, and behavior around kids. She appreciates nature and sees the good in everything.

2. Stubborn

Anne of the book is rather prideful and struggles to change her mind. The Anne of the miniseries is also stubborn. In the miniseries, Anne sticks to her goals whether ignoring Gilbert, being the best school teacher, or finding her husband. Just like the Anne in the book, no one can convince her to act against her convictions.

3. Self-reliant

One of the things that makes Anne an interesting character, especially for the time, is that she is very independent. Theoretically, her independence stems from her time as an unwanted orphan. Regardless, in the miniseries, Anne’s independence is clearly shown. She studies herself and gets ahead, she keeps writing even though her works get some criticism, and she takes care of herself when her husband is gone. She can get by all on her own.

Anne with an E Anne

Differences

1. Physical manifestation of trauma 

One of the biggest differences in season 1 of Anne with an E is that Anne is actually seen to be affected by her years of neglect and abuse. In the books, Montgomery sort of dismissively addresses it (like with the window friend bit), but does not have Anne exhibit any trauma. The TV show, however, embraces Anne’s horrible past showing her to have triggers and nightmares and horror stories.

Because the Anne of AWAE is affected a lot by her past, she has a harder time making friends and fitting in. She has a reason to be wary of other people. She also comes across more as odd, because of the various triggers she has which the others do not understand and because she has stories like no one has ever heard. Much like Gilbert, AWAE makes their version more of a loner.

2. Activist

Anne in the book stands up for herself, she does, but not in the way of Anne in AWAE. In AWAE, Anne has all sorts of causes; she fights for feminism, gay rights, foxes (I want to say environmentalism, but she doesn’t value the lives of chickens, so I hesitate), and treating everyone the same regardless of race or culture. Anne speaks loud and proud in the show on all of these issues. Anne in the book does have convictions, but she is just not that loud. She does not speak against gender inequality. The only cause she really speaks out about at all is treating children right. 

Anne in AWAE is more of an activist than the Anne in the book. While the Anne of the book may organize a letter writing campaign, the Anne of the show would be leading a march with signs and a bullhorn. The show has a far more outspoken Anne.

3. Good in Everyone

This one is sort of related to the first. Anne in the book assumes the good in everyone which is why she makes friends with some of the least liked people. In the show, they keep in her relationship with Aunt Josephine, but Aunt Josephine in the show is also changed so as to not be one of the least liked people. Instead of a selfish prideful woman, she is just a sad lonely woman who lost her soulmate. In the show, Anne has difficulty seeing the good in the people as evidenced in the number of people she does not get along with. Sure Anne doesn’t like Josie in the books, but the Anne of the show also doesn’t get along with Mr. Phillips, the pastor, all the boys who aren’t Gilbert or Cole, and most of the mothers. I’m guessing this change is related to Anne’s childhood trauma.

The Anne of the show is less friendly and has less friends than the Anne of the book. Perhaps she is automatically guarded or maybe her triggers or oddities threw them off. Or maybe some of them just don’t like an activist telling them to change. Regardless, Anne in the show comes across much more on her own than the Anne of the book who is generally well-regarded.

Similar

1. Romantic

I had to put this on both, because this is one trait the adaptations hit on the nail. Anne in AWAE, like Anne in the book, is memorized by the world around her. She fixes each flaw she sees with her imagination. Her capacity for creativity abounds which can be seen in her artistry in the pageant and her work in school. 

2. Intelligent

AWAE does a good job of showing that Anne is smart. They have her rise through the ranks at school, like in the book, but they do much more. Her conversations with adults meet them phrase for phrase and she cleverly devises plans, like when she saved Ruby’s house or Diana’s sister. She is just as, and truly far more, intelligent as any boy in her town.

3. Confident

In the book, Anne believes in herself, even if she doesn’t always have the highest self-esteem. Anne in AWAE also has confidence. She speaks with boldness. In the book, Anne is willing to talk in front of her class or to the pastor’s wife and is not intimidated. Such is the Anne in AWAE. 

Which Anne is More Like the Book?

I think Meagan Follows’ portrayal better captures the character. Sure, all the stuff in the Continuing Story was dumb and I don’t like that she liked an old guy, but ultimately she reminds me more of Anne. When I read the books, Follows’ Anne voice is heard in my head for her breathy romantic quality so well fits the idealistic character. Her character’s interaction with the other characters also fits the Anne of the book well. Anne of the miniseries gets along well with Marillia with little doubt of Marilla’s affection, her and Diana are chums, and she pretty much gets along with everyone.

AWAE’s Anne doesn’t quite beat Follows’ Anne for me because of her trauma and activism. Neither are bad, per se, they just are not in the book. McNulty’s Anne is much more alone and odd and outspoken than the Anne in the book.

So, that’s my take. What do you think?

Thank you to everyone who suggested this post! @lillypedalsxx @filmmakerdream @thetraveler10

[ofangelos]

hi it’s dani ( duh ) this is my trash son a*gel im v excited pls come plot with me :)

╰☆╮ SHAWN MENDES ─ ANGELOS ALESANDRO ALMEIDA identifies as CIS MALE and uses HE/HIM pronouns. they’re a RAPPER and they’re only TWENTY-ONE ! they’re said to be AMBITIOUS, but also DISHONEST. i guess that’s why they’re known as THE BLACK HOLE in the tabloids.

he was born in mykonos, greece to the ceo of the philip-morris tobacco distribution company. when i say angel is rich, i mean angel is riiiiich. his family is worth over 120 billion dollars. angel grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, and has never ever ever dreamed of having anything less.

to better understand angel, u guys need to better understand the almeidas as a family. in my first intro, i sorta??? brushed over the fact but i’ve come to realize that they’ve had a huge impact on his psyche and his morals and everything??

to put it in short…  have y’all seen dynasty on netflix? blake carrington is basically just… angel’s father. the carrington dynamic is the almeida’s dynamic to a t.

okay, being in charge of such a huge company that not only ruled tobacco distribution, but own 6 major cigarette brands that reach every single continent in the world meant that angel’s father hardly had time for him. it was only business with him. if he wasn’t at the office, he was cheating on angel’s mother - it was a habit the whole family knew about. it was no surprise. angel’s never been good at relationships because he experienced infidelity his whole life. his idea of love was really messed up at a young age.

tw: drug abuse but yes ! his parents never paid him any mind. his father was far too busy with work, and his mother was far too busy passing out on narcotics to bring some feeling back into her dull life and her awful marriage to take care of angel.

angel was essentially just raised by nannies, and they weren’t awful to him at all. they were dope and super nice to him? but he still managed to build up a resentment towards them because he didn’t have enough time to experience his parents and build up a resentment towards the people who actually deserved it

angel had a lot of pressure for him to do well in school - he was supposed to step up and be the ceo of one of the most powerful companies in the world one day, after all - so he constantly had tutors rolling in and out of his house to make sure he was the best and brightest he could be! he never got to go have play-dates and be a normal kid because his father was so focused on prepping 7-year-old angel to be a ceo. that’s all he was to his father - another him.

because of this inability to hang out with the other kids outside of school, angel had a really really hard time making friends??? he was a very lonely kid. he just couldn’t relate to any of them because he was constantly being prepped for public appearances and learning 7 other languages so he’d be useful by the time he was old enough to put on a suit.

angel’s father actually hired someone to have their kid be angel’s friend - and also lowkey a body guard that would take any hit and any bullet for angel, but angel didn’t know this and just thought he had a loyal friend dsjioad

but yeaaaa not having the opportunity to talk to people his age is what causes him to be so stand-offish and say such rude things sometimes?? because he didn’t get the chance to develop useful social skills at a young age? the only things he knew how to do were 1) demand things 2) speak an absurd amount of languages and 3) charm the press

when angel’s father did make the time to see angel, it was never for good reason.

angel used to be?? so upset about not being able to spend time with his father?? but as time went on, it clicked in his head that he was only relevant to his father when he was doing something wrong / bad, so he hated when his father made meetings with him

u read that correctly – meetings. angel stopped seeing daddy dearest at home when he was about 11. after that, it was pure business. he’d have to schedule an appointment with him just like anyone else. because being his father’s son was just a title - it didn’t actually mean anything. he was just another person.

tw: mental abuse anyways ! these meeting never went well for angel because all they were was an opportunity for his father to let out his pent-up frustrations about everything on his son. angel could miss one question on an exam, and boom – meeting ! he was essentially his father’s outlet. and at first it was just mental abuse - yelling at angel about how stupid he was, or how he’d never amount to anything, or how he was ruining the almeida legacy

which made angel feel terrible about himself?? i mean… duh … but like… he couldn’t do the /one thing/ he’s basically been trained like a fucking dog to do his entire life ??? he couldn’t just be perfect and it killed him??? because he tried so, so, so, so, so hard to come as close as possible

it’s not the typical acted-out-for-attention. eventually, angel learned that he didn’t want the attention because it was only ever negative. he acted wonderfully and tried to be the best he could possibly be to keep his father away from him

tw: domestic abuse, tw: abuse eventually, just yelling at angel wasn’t enough to express his anger, and his father fell into an awful awful habit where, whenever angel did anything to piss him off, he’d light a cigarette and then jab it onto angel’s arm and let it burn. angel has little circle scars up and down his arms that he’s tried to cover up with tattoos from this

angel always read in books or saw on tv that families were supposed to love and support each other, so he just assumed ??? that this was what love was like?? that it was tough all the time and sometimes cruel??? so he has a very twisted image of family and relationships and love and all of that

he has a very inflated perspective of self-importance because, in greece, he just is that important. he’s as close to royalty as you can get without actually being a king or a prince. his family essentially has a monopoly over the entire country when it comes to property and business, so, of course, the almeidas are well known. they’re the kardashians of greece without the hit tv show. they never showed their lives because they put up a beautiful facade of a happy family running a billion dollar business, when really, they were as messed up as they came

tw: drugs, tw: alcoholism, tw: addiction he ended up going to oxford university’s business school straight out of high school and dropping out when he was a sophomore / second year because drugs and alcohol slowly crept their way into his life just like how they had with his mother, and it got to the point where he was dependent on them to get through the day + couldn’t concentrate on anything else

the one thing he found solace in was music, so much to his father’s dismay, he began a career as a rapper ( vc is g-eazy ) aaand that’s what he’s been doing since he was nineteen.

i don’t really have much else to say other than that he’s a crackhead and heavily reliant on alcohol / drugs and a huuuuuge douchebag ok thanks

[ghoulboyboos]

For they Shyan prompts thing, demon!shane constantly getting stuck in situations that would get him found out (idk like someone spilling a bunch of salt or smth)and Ryan has to keep coming to his rescue? Plz & thx, ly

Shaneispretty sure he isn’tbad at hiding his identity. Sure,he isn’tthe greatest, stealthiest demon to ever walk the earth but he isn’tterrible.

Fine,sometimes the cameras makehim look a little too much like his true self when heand Ryan arefilming episodes, but everyone lookskind of weird in night vision cameras. His eyes aren’teven black. If hereally wanted toshow his true eyes to anyone,they would get treated toeyes with barely any whites, true,but also no full black scleras.Just large, yellowish irises and stretched, horizontal pupils. Goateyes, funnily enough. Not quite like Steve’s. Shane’s don’tglow in the dark. He never did show off his eyes to anyone though. Atleast not until now.

Actuallyhe used to keephis demon self very well hidden. It really isn’this fault that he hasterrible luck.

-

Itstarts one Wednesday when he’s helping out in the Tasty kitchen.They need some additional camera work and Shane is taking care of thehand-held camera trained on Rie’s face. Everythinggoes just as planned until the momentwhen one of the interns knocks over one of the big jars in the back.Shane originally thought the things are just for decoration, but hefreezes when the jar smasheson the ground and salt – a lot of salt –suddenly spills out from the destroyedcontainer. Luckily, nothing actually hits his bodyand he’s spared from uncomfortable burns, but the stuffspills right between Shane and Rie. Sheis standing at a counter and the salt forms a completeand effectiveline that stretches from wallto counter and when she moves aside, Shane can’t follow her, sohe’s slowly moving to round the counter and keep the camera on herface.

“Hangon, Shane.” The director interrupts him. “Just step over it andget closer to Rie. We’ll clean it up once the segment is filmed.”

Shanebreaks out in a cold sweat. He can’t cross the line between thecounter and the wall. He is physically incapable of doing so. Even ifsomeone pushed him, Shane would hit an impenetrable wall. He couldeven get hurt over this.

Apologiesmanifest in his brain, each more ridiculous than the last and at theglare of the director, Shane shuffles back, carefully inching closerto the dreaded line of salt. He’s thinking, panicking, unsure ofwhat to do and what to say. He has to find an excuse. Somehow, he hasto save himself from being exposed.

Butthen, by sheer luck and coincidence, Ryan comes in with a dustpan andbroom and the second he dives and drags the broom through the salt,Shane feels a weight drop off his shoulders. He hides it with a coughand a shuffle to the side to give Ryan space to work and since theline is broken, he steps over the rest of the salt without anytroubles. The director iscool with Ryan cleaning up, Ryan has no problem doing it – he’shere to wait for Shane anyway so they can grab lunch together – andthe show can continue. Shane thanks whoever is having an eye on himthat Ryan’s urge to clean the set popped up at just the rightmoment.

Atleast, he thinks, there’ssomeone down there who has an eye on him. It’swhat he settles on as an explanation.

Atfirst.

-

“Don’ttry it, demon!” Ryan snaps, drawing the ridiculous water gun withsurprising speed and Shane staggers backwards on instinct.

“Wow!”He says, trying to sound joyful. “That’s spooky.”

Ryanis smiling, maybe even laughing as he holsters the gun again. Hedoesn’t “shoot” Shane with it like Shane feared and part of himexhales in relief.

Sure,holy water isn’t the worse that could be done to him. It would burnhis body a little and sure, it would hurt, but that’s not why Shaneis afraid. He can handle the little burns the water would leave onhim. He can handle the time and energy it takes to heal his body. (Itis his body after all, he had it commissioned. If he was possessingsomeone, ducking out was always an option but if you had your ownbody, you were sort of reliant on it and he really didn’t wantShane Madej to have burn scars everywhere because his friend laughedat the idea of squirting him with holy water.

Butthankfully, Ryan doesn’t shoot the water gun at him and Shane canrelax. He’s not exactly calm,because he can see that the plastic toy isn’t entirely leak-proof.While Ryan walks around on location, the water gun dropsoccasionally. Shane is far away enough to be safe, but it still makeshim uncomfortable.

The day after theshoot, TJ finds the plastic gun on top of Ryan’s bag and makes abig show out of having the one tool to destroy demons. Shane gets it,TJ doesn’t believe and Mark, who is the first to get shot with atiny stream of holy water doesn’t either. The cameraman is justlaughing as he ducks away from any more shots and before Shane canreally prepare, TJ has turned and is pointing the gun at him. Heinstinctively flinches and ducks. Of course, it won’t do anything.If TJ hits his clothing, the water will soak into it and burn Shaneanyways. It will hurt. It will burn. Butworse than anything, it will show the team what Shane really is.

Shane didn’t useto be so attached to people, but he likes Buzzfeed. It’s just theright place to cause the right amount of chaos and disgruntlement.People get irritated at videos and articles and it’s all Shaneneeds. Internet trolling is the future of demons, he just knows that.But now, TJ is pointing a water gun filled with holy water at him andeverything is going to get out. Except that the moment TJ pulls thetrigger, Ryan accidentally walks past Shane to get to his bag.

There is a surprisedsquawk and then a lot of enraged yelling mixed with Tjs apologiesthrough laughter and the sounds that Devon and Mark make in thebackground while they try not to openly laugh at Ryan. Shane onlyallows himself a snicker, a lot less than what he would usually leaveRyan with. Instead, he offers Ryan one of his sweaters while Ryan’sown dries and he’s surprised when is friend actually accepts.

The whole ride backhome, Ryan is wearing Shane’s sweaters and Shane tries to ignorethe feelings that leaves him with. If Ryan knew what he really was,he would never speak to him again. Better not set himself up forheartbreak, Shane thinks while he glances at the dozing Ryan.

He looksindescribably adorable in Shane’s too-long clothes.

-

It’s really nothow he imagined to be exposed.

Shane thinks thatnearly all of the seances, rituals and other little tricks Ryan trieson location are nonsense. Ghosts are so incredibly rare that evenShane with his true sight has only seen a few on location. On top ofthat, they usually aren’t active or powerful enough to interactwith them. Ryan tends to get himself too worked up and panicky aboutnothing and Shane’s rolling eyes and exasperated sighs are verygenuine in these situations. Of course, he wants Ryan to be okay andhappy. It’s not like he wants the little guy to have a heartattack.

If Shane iscompletely honest with himself, he will have to admit that there isno human he wants to be happier than Ryan. Still, he wishes the whole“tell Ryan you’re not human thing” could have happened outsideof Unsolved.

But Ryan has somehowmanaged to find a ritual that is actually a legit ritual to exposedemonic power. And Shane even helped him, being the idiot that he is,because he thought the thing is not going to work.

And yet, here he is.A red aura pulsing around him, the candles around the circle theyused for the ritual are flickering but not going out, no matter howhard Shane tries to snuff them with his powers. Ryan’s hand-heldcamera and the go pro on his chest are trained on Shane who hasstarted to lose control over his humanoid form. Ryan will be rich andfamous for exposing Shane. It somehow lessens the pain of having toleave this man and Unsolved and probably the world.

“I knew it.”Ryan says, smug expression on his face as he turns off first thehand-held cam and then the one on his chest. “I knew you were…like that.” He snorts as Shane can only stare at him with wideeyes.

“I figured youneeded some assistance with keeping… you know. On the down low.You’re not really the most subtle person, with all the talk ofeating pickles out of ponds and enjoying the work of the torsomurderer and that stuff. But… you’re still my best friend. And Itrust that you won’t eat my heart when I help you, okay?”

Shane watches asRyan shows him the footage he managed to capture of Shane’s trueform before deleting it. Shane still has a heart in this form andit’s beating hard and unrelenting in his chest as he stares down atRyan.

“But… what?Why?”

Ryan smiles andreaches out to take Shane’s hands. The nails have grown, but skinand bones and fingers are still the same shape.

“I figured out awhile ago that you weren’t human, but when I kept an eye on you,you never seemed to harm anybody. So… I figured since you wantedthis to be a secret, I would help.”

“Oh.” Shane saysdumbly. He blinks. “Does… does that mean that it’s okay for meto tell you that I like you?”

Ryan chuckles.

“As long as demonsaren’t somehow murdered by affection, I’m cool with that.”

Shane chuckles abit. His cheeks warm as embarrassment takes him over.

“We’re…not. But I guess you knew already. You seem to know whenever I neededyour help.”

Ryan chuckles andbrings Shane’s hands up to brush a kiss over the knuckles.

“And you seem toknow whenever I need your words or presence on location. So. Whateveryou saw and kept from hurting me or whenever you got me to leave adangerous room… thank you.”

He smiles up atShane and Shane has to swallow and clear his throat a couple oftimes.

“Of course.” Heleans his forehead against Ryan.

“Thank you aswell. For keeping me safe.”

[vetisntdead]

Get ready for some DRAAAMAAAAA

Oops I meant

Inflammation is the body’s first line defense against injury but it can also cause more severe damage as it is a dramatic diva, prone to freak-outs. The whole point of inflammation is to recruit soldiers and their tools to help fight a battle to protect the body (I would have used the fire-fighter analogy but inflammation literally means “burning” so its kind of anti-fire fighters? literal fire fighters? anyway). An important thing to note is that inflammation only occurs in living tissues. So no ‘postmortem inflammation’. Inflammation is very reliant on cell membrane surface receptors (the outside of the cells have communication antennae that double as feet) which allow white blood cells to crawl around like slugs. This process is also highly redundant and complex, with a lot of different cell-communication chemicals that to the exact same fucking thing. A lot of these chemicals also have multiple functions. So, complex as all hell.

Inflammatory lesions are named by looking at four things:

1. Duration

One very important thing to note is that inflammation isn’t a state of being, but rather a continuing process that changes over time. Much like an improv stage play, the story starts the same way, but evolves depending on who decides to show up.

Act 1: Peracute inflammation

Our drama requires an opening act to start shit. If I poke you, the place I touched wouldn’t necessarily become inflamed. But if i punted you with a hammer, it definitely would. This is because the hammer caused cell injury. Within seconds of trauma, blood vessels clam up (I imagine them getting scared) and then dilate to increase blood flow to the area, causing redness. Injured cells often spill their guts due to a broken membrane and can die. Exposed cell contents are prime advertisements for white blood cells, screaming “COME EAT ME” (chemotaxis). These chemicals also cause the local blood vessels to become leaky, letting fluid through and causing swelling. 

Act 2: Acute inflammation

During this act, the affected area that has become our stage gets hot and painful due to the unending amounts of shit white blood cells get up to. One of these things is a further increase in blood vessel leakiness through more chemicals, one of which is histamine (a very annoying part of allergies-will elaborate in a separate post). 

The characters in our play are white blood cells. Here are their names and what they do:

Neutrophil: this cell is typically the first line of defense and protects the body by literally eating whatever is causing the damage. He contains a variety of granules in his cell-self to help kill offending bacteria. He is also very effective at recruiting other types of white blood cells. Unfortunately, anti-inflammatories are good at preventing him from accessing the stage.

Eosinophil: arguably the prettiest face in our cast, she specializes in pest-control, hypersensitivity reactions and the occasional consumption of bad stuff. She has the habit of finding parasites in tissues and then vomiting her murder-granules onto them. These granules also cause Mast cell to produce histamine. Speaking of, she is very attracted to Mast cell, especially when he is busy doing his thing. She can be found in tissues that have contact with the outside world (like skin).

Mast cell and Basophil: these two are the definition of brother-from-another-mother. They function the same, but one likes living in the tissues while the other prefers living in the blood. Our Basophil is also an extremely rare sight. Both these boys require prior exposure to something bad to be able to recognize it. If they do, they explode (but don’t die), releasing histamine, heparin, interleukins, TNFalpha...which do a lot of ridiculously complicated shit.

Macrophage: this clever girl is the brains behind the operation. She is known as a monocyte in the blood stream, but graduates to Macrophage when she enters the tissues after Neutrophil. Along with being the stage director and one of the main stars, she has the capacity to eat bad things and cause a systemic fever. She can multiply and specialize depending on where she ends up,becoming something such as a Langerhans cell or a type-2 pneumocyte. In response to hard-to-perish things like foreign bodies and Tuberculosis, she becomes either a truly horrifying epithelioid macrophage or a fucking scary multinucleated giant cell.  (Looking at my own reflection, when suddenly it changes, violently it changes. There is no turning back now, you've woken up the demon in me!) She can also store things like iron and carbon (your tattoo ink).

Lymphocyte and Plasma cell: these two are capable of leaving the stage and returning home. They play a vital role in immune reactions.

Platelet: this small lad is responsible for plugging up holes in damaged blood vessels, calling Neutrophil to come do his job and promoting healing.

A special thank you to Endothelial cell and Fibroblasts, who worked so hard to make the stage props and exchange them during the performance.

(the arrows in the bottom right indicate platelets)

A note on chemotaxis: chemotaxis is the migration of white blood cells towards certain chemicals produced by tissue cells in the middle of inflammation. These chemicals are highest in concentration at the epicenter of our play. Some of these chemicals call specific white blood cells, explaining why a reaction can be predominantly eosinophilic etc. Endotoxin is produced by gram negative bacteria and cause tissue cells to call for help via chemotaxis chemicals. Cells have a fascinating way of talking.

There are many more ways cells communicate, but I will delve into them in future posts, lest we sit here till World War Three.

Septicaemia occurs when a badly-controlled local inflammatory reaction spills its chemicals into the main system, leading to Systemic Inflammatory Response Syndrome (SIRS). During this, white blood cells are shunted into small blood vessels with whole-body blood flow disturbances. SIRS depletes cells and chemicals, which can lead to bacteria multiplying uncontrollably. If this is not brought under control, more blood vessel damage can result in DIC-Death Is Coming. It’s as bad as it sounds.

Endotoxaemia occurs when endotoxin is bound by a specific protein. This complex is capable of triggering several cascades leading to SIRS. Gram negative bacteria suck.

Our second act can end in many ways:

resolution-healing without major signs that anything went wrong. This usually happens in places where cells divide a lot.

scarring-healing with memories. Either there was a lot of damage or the damaged tissue can’t regenerate.

abscess formation-my favorite! I love expressing these

progression to act 3

Act 3: Chronic inflmammation

Act 3 stars Macrophage, Lymphocyte and Plasma cell. It is also characterized by burning the stage (tissue destruction) and then repairing of the stage as best it can. Chronic inflammation can be triggered without any of the previous acts by something like Tuberculosis. 

Our main lady Macrophage morphs into her werewolf selves, the multinucleate giant cell and epithelioid macrophage, during a special featurette known as Granulomatous Inflammation. This occurs in response to a foreign body (not antigenic) or persistent bacteria (antigenic).

2. Exudate-special sauce

Leaky blood vessels let white blood cells through yes, but also let proteins and fluid through. These three things make up the basis of an exudate (this is an active process, meaning the movement from inside blood vessels into the cells is not accomplished by things like osmosis). Exudates are named for the predominant level of cells, fluid, protein or other stuff.

serous-lots of protein-rich fluid as seen with burn wounds (that watery stuff from your nose when you start getting influenza)

fibrinous-this is seen with acute reactions when very leaky blood vessels let fibrinogen through into the tissues. Fibrinogen turns into a fibrin meshwork for other cells to climb around. (don’t confuse this with fibrosis which is chronic)

mucoid/catarrhal-this is seen only where mucous-producing cells are available to add their contribution, like the inside of your nose. (when the watery fluid from your influenza-ridden nose turns cloudy)

suppurative/purulent-this exudate contains neutrophils (dead and alive) plus dead tissue. This is my favorite exudate as I can use different types of cheese to describe the texture and freak people the fuck out. An abscess is just suppurative inflammation that the body hemmed-in with a fibrous wall and is often caused by bacteria. It also smells bad.

necrotising-mainly made up of dead things (as seen in severe Parvovirus)

haemorrhagic-blood! This is seen with badly damaged blood vessels during the first parts of inflammation.

eosinophilic-usually seen when parasites sit in tissues and eosinophills come from far and wide to vomit on it

lymphocytic-lymphocytes are usually seen for viral reasons. 

granulomatous-the macrophage does its absolute worst. It is important to differentiate this ‘exudate’ (it doesn’t really flow) from a tumor, aberrant cell growth and granulation tissue.

These names can be combined if there is more than one dominant feature, like necrohaemorrhagic (dead stuff with blood!). The sky is the limit with these combinations, as long as they still make sense. 

3. Distribution (please see this post for more)

4. Severity (how bad is it really?)

This involves some subjectiveness on behalf of the person describing the inflammation, but they get better with practice. The most commonly used words are mild (your mom says you must go to school), moderate (she hasn’t budged) and severe (she insists you’re going to school, no matter how sick you are).

Now, I really must speak about non-steroidal anti-inflammatories (NSAIDs) like aspirin. These drugs work primarily by disrupting the COX-pathways. Look I made another diagram.

Prostaglandins are a thing necessary for day-to-day function. If COX-1 is suppressed for long enough, you can get stomach ulcers and even kidney necrosis (important in horses). This is why its a bad idea to use these drugs as a hangover cure, you’re already dehydrated and these things compromise the blood flow to your kidneys even further. As a result, numerous COX-2 selective drugs have been brought out to prevent complications. That being said, humans are remarkably resistant to the negative effects of NSAIDs (trust me there are many) but ANIMALS ARE NOT. If you give your dog aspirin you are likely overdosing it by a huge margin and YOU MUST TELL YOUR VET. If you give it to your cat you have just signed its death certificate. NSAIDs explode cat red blood cells (there will be a post on this later). DO NOT GIVE NSAIDs TO YOUR PETS I WILL HAUNT YOU

I sincerely hope you enjoyed this episode of Angry Pathology, it was inspired by Death Metal band logo fonts and Namibian craft beer. I have simplified a lot of things for this post. If you would like a lot more ridiculously dramatic detail, check this out. Please rant and rave your questions and I will do my utmost to rant and rave right back. Have a lovely anti-inflammatory week!

[bashfulmusician]

So when my wisdom teeth were acting up a whole ago, a friend brought up an entirely valid point: why not have them removed if they hurt? To which I wholeheartedly agree. They hurt me, they hurt the inside of my cheek because of how they're growing and how sharp they are. I should get them taken out.

But I can't.

I 100% agree and I should definitely go to the dentist more often, but there's a few problems... [this got really long and I apologize in advance for ranting.]

I also want to say that I'm NOT mad at this friend for pointing that out! You make a valid, honest point that my dentists should have picked up on (it's common sense, right? If my teeth hurt, they need to go.) This is a topic I feel strongly about, especially with recent political events.

I have state insurance in the second most in-debt state in America. Medical insurance is enough of a struggle with mental health and all, I can't even tell you how bad dental is.

My teeth are all sorts of crooked and used to give me a bad lisp (it sometimes comes into my voice, but not as much anymore), so I needed braces. But I never got them because braces were considered "cosmetic". The dentist told me to take a popsicle stick and press on my tooth to help pull it forward where it should be. A popsicle stick. To pull my teeth right. You can guess how well that worked. (It didn't. If anything they're more wonkus)

Then I have to go to the county dental clinic. Now let me iterate that there's absolutely nothing wrong with receiving state health care. I think it's great that the resources exist for people that can't afford it, like me. Obamacare was an excellent addition and helped a lot of people! But this clinic sucks. They look at my wisdom teeth and never breathe a word. They don't say anything about my x-rays. I feel like I'm being yelled at every time I go in because they always patronize me for my cavities. I actually heard them talking about me in the hallway when I first went in, saying how I look like a child and I certainly behave like one. How I definitely don't brush my teeth because how would I have gotten so many cavities in the first place? I don't want to say all that they said, but it hurt really badly. I haven't had regular dental care in so long, so it isn't like it's my fault (I'm not blaming my parents either. Dental is EXPENSIVE).

But I can't go to another clinic. They're my only option. And I hate going in because they patronize me and ignore other issues. The doctor herself isn't in very often, so sometimes I can't even get my cavities filled.

But these wisdom teeth need to come out. They act up so badly whenever they rear their ugly heads and they hurt the insides of my cheeks. My gums ache when they start to grow, but then they'll go back down (which I've heard that's normal for wisdom teeth: to grow and then recede again to grow to recede). But I can't take it. They've literally dug into my cheek because they're that sharp and hurt that way. But the dental clinic hasn't addressed it. I mean I get that I have cavities to take care of, but these teeth are causing problems with my cheek and gums.

Smh. I don't normally talk politics here because this is a safe space where I personally go to take a break, but Trump can suck an egg. He says that the lower class needs to become self-reliant and all, what about me? I'm just trying to get an education so I can pursue a career helping others, how am I not trying to take care of myself? How can I take care of myself without insurance for my anxiety/depression meds and my teeth? When I didn't have insurance for my medicines and presented a FreeRX card  (basically a coupon for when you have to pay out-of-pocket for meds), the pharmacist explicitly said "What, you don't have insurance?" in this nasty voice. I was trying to pick up $90, off-brand medicine for my anxiety! Medicine that I hadn't had for days because I couldn't afford it due to no insurance!

She's just like our political leaders and some snobby individuals I've come across. "Just work harder. It's your fault that you're poor anyway. You're a college student, it's not like you live in a hovel. Get up and do something!"

I'm not angry at you, friend. You are nothing like these people. I'm frustrated and angry at the current president and the lacking medical/dental coverage. I don't have a choice in a lot of matters, such as what dental clinic I go to or what medicine I receive (my asthma med is so generic that it doesn't even work. I've given up on taking it.

"Cosmetic" braces when I whistle and I have a tooth literally pointed towards the back of my mouth? Off-brand meds that don't work (at least my anxiety meds work, thank goodness)? Being patronized and harassed for my poor dental hygiene, and not having the option to go to another clinic? Having to keep teeth that hurt me?

And Trump wants to take these minimal assets away. He thinks we with lower income don't care and need to work harder. Yeah, makes sense. But taking out teeth that hurt someone and make it hard for them to perform some daily, human tasks (*cough* eating *cough*? No, doesn't make sense. If anything, I should become rich and pay for some other dentist who can remove my bad teeth and fill my cavities. Because I'm low income. I should work harder. It's not like I'm stuck here and have no class mobility. It's not like I go to the campus food pantry for alternatives so I can cook healthy foods for myself. (Again, there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with going to food pantries. They're a great resource!) I should just pay for my on-brand, expensive meds out of pocket myself, like everyone does. I shouldn't even have anxiety or depression. I should just "get over" my PTSD and move on.

Makes sense.

[But friend I'm NOT mad at you. You make a valid point that anyone with half a brain should be able to think of. It's what I've been saying for a couple years now, ever since these teeth started up. A point that my political leaders and dentists can't think of themselves, some how. I'm also slightly bitter at the dental clinic. Just slightly. But not you! You're awesome and I care about you! You make a lot of sense! Too much sense for my dentists, I guess.]

I have a lot of feelings. But no one who receives state health insurance or dental does so because they're "lazy". They do it because that's their only option.

[therumbellehappyendingaward-blog]

Summary: Ten-year-old Gideon Gold is not happy: the kids at school think Rumple and Belle aren’t his real parents, and Robin Mills is the ringleader. When the Golds set out to prove the rumors are wrong, their adventures take a surprising twist. Or do they?

Chapter 1 writer: @jackabelle73

PROMPT: BASTARD

AO3: HERE

The sound of the front door slamming reverberated through the house, followed by rapid footsteps on the staircase. Another door slammed upstairs.

Rumplestiltskin emerged from his study and frowned up the steps, wondering what had upset Gideon. At ten, he was old enough to walk himself home from school each day, and normally would enter the house quietly, hang up his coat, and seek out whichever parent was home that afternoon to beg for an afterschool treat.

Rumple walked upstairs and knocked on his son’s closed door.

“Gideon? Everything all right?”

“Fine!” came the response, in a tone of voice that said he was anything but fine.

“I thought we’d bake some cookies this afternoon, if you want,” Rumple offered.

There was a pause, long enough for him to think the bribe had worked, till Gideon responded.

“No, thank you.”

Whatever was bothering Gideon, it must be significant for him to refuse cookies. Rumple turned the doorknob and found to his consternation that it was locked.

“Gideon, open this door right now. You’re not in trouble yet, but you will be if I have to use magic to open the door.”

There was a shuffling sound before the lock clicked. When Rumple tried the door again, it opened to reveal Gideon, the considerable length of him stretched diagonally across his bed, face buried in a pillow and turned away from the door. Rumple sighed and perched on the edge of the bed, patting his son’s jeans-clad calf.

“What’s got you upset? Maybe I can help.”

There was a long pause, broken by a sniffle, which only worried Rumple more. Gideon was a happy and carefree child for the most part, which was a relief to his parents. They’d feared that the dark and brooding personality of his grown self would carry over to his second childhood, but the uninhibited giggles of their infant son had soon set them at ease. As Gideon grew, he wanted for nothing that magic or money could obtain, and as an only child, was equally rich in love and attention from his doting parents.

For the past few years, their major fear had been that he was becoming too spoiled, and they’d adjusted their parenting style in hopes that they would not raise an ungrateful tyrant. Gideon had chores at home, and also helped his parents in the pawn shop and library. In addition, Rumple was starting to teach him a few simple magic spells, but they’d established a rule from the beginning of his magical lessons… whenever a task could be accomplished without magic, Gideon was taught both methods. They wanted him to learn to control the powerful magical ability they assumed he would develop at some point, but not be reliant on it. Their son would learn to live in both the magical and non-magical worlds.

Their approach seemed to be working. Gideon was happy and secure, but also aware of the advantages he had in life. Therefore, incidents that truly tested his easy-going personality were rare. Rumple needed to find out what had caused his son to cry. He tried a different approach.

“Should I call Ms. Blanchard? Maybe she’ll tell me what happened today.”

“Don’t!” Gideon exclaimed, sitting up quickly. His face was blotchy from crying. “She can’t tell you anyway, she wasn’t even there!”

“Wasn’t there for what?”

Gideon looked down, sullen. “Nothing.”

“Son… come here.” Rumple held out an arm, and Gideon scooted under and nestled against his father’s side. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Maybe… maybe it would be better if I wait and talk to Mum.” His voice was muffled against Rumple’s suit, but his words carried clearly enough.

Rumple made himself wait a moment before replying; there were several topics that Gideon preferred to discuss with Belle. However, none of them typically reduced him to tears.

“May I ask why you can tell your mother, and not me?” he asked.

“Cause Mum won’t go all Azkaban when she finds out what Robin said!” Gideon exclaimed, before his eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath. He hadn’t meant to speak the name, that was clear.

“And what did Robin Mills say to you?” The boy opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. “Gideon. Tell me now, what she said.”

“Her mom told her that… that I’m a bastard,” he mumbled, looking down.  

He took a moment to squash the fury that the word caused to flare up in him. When he thought he had it under control, he asked, “And do you know what that means?”

“Yeah. It means that you and Mum aren’t my real parents. But I know you are, and I told Robin that!”

“And you’re right. We’re your parents, and we love you more than anything.”

He hugged his son close, silently cursing Zelena Mills. He didn’t blame Robin, who was only a little older than Gideon. Robin was a child and couldn’t be held responsible for the awful lessons her mother taught her. Zelena, though… if not for the grief it would cause her daughter, Rumple would indeed be tempted to ‘go Azakaban’ on the green witch.

“I told Robin we use blood magic all the time, and magic doesn’t lie,” Gideon said, snuggling close to him again. “The spells wouldn’t work if I weren’t your son. And she said she believed me, because she knows how magic works. She sneaks in her mum’s bedroom all the time and opens things that Ms. Mills locked up with blood magic.”

“Does she?” Rumple murmured, amused by the idea of Zelena’s daughter defying her. “So if she believes you, what’s the problem?”

“She said she believed me, but other kids heard her say I’m a bastard, and now they won’t stop saying it!”

“Won’t stop saying what?” Belle’s voice came from the doorway.

“Mum!” Gideon went to her immediately, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder. If he kept growing at his current rate, he’d soon have to bend down to hug her like that.

“The kids at school are calling me names,” he told her.

“Oh, sweetheart… I’m sorry. Kids can be mean, you know that.” Belle stroked his hair, sending a look over his shoulder to Rumple.

“They keep calling me a bastard and saying you can’t be my real parents, because I’m going to be so tall and you two aren’t tall, and--”

“Whoa, Gideon, slow down. What do our heights have to do with anything?” Rumple asked. “Come here, son. Sit down, and tell us everything.”

With Gideon seated between them on the edge of his bed, Belle repeated the question. “Why do our heights matter, Gideon?”

“Because it’s genetic,” he explained, looking put out that he had to explain this. “We’re learning about genetics and which traits are passed down from parents to children. Both of you are short, so I should be too, but I’m going to be tall.”

“And how would your classmates know how tall you’re going to be?” Rumple asked.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows that, Papa. All their parents told them how I showed up a week after I was born, and I was this freaky tall grown-up and tried to kill the Savior, and then I went back to being a baby again. It’s not really a secret.”

“Right… because stories like that count as normal in Storybrooke,” Belle said. “But Gideon sweetheart, your classmates are right that physical traits like height get passed down, but what they’re failing to account for, is that genetics are incredibly unpredictable. Traits can skip generations, or show up out of the blue even if no one else in the family have them.”

“So… were your parents tall?” Gideon asked, turning to Rumple.

“Ahh… no. Neither of them were much taller than me. I never met my grandparents, but I don’t think you got your height from my side.”

He turned to Belle with a hopeful look.

“I know Grandpa Moe is kind of tall… well, taller than you two, anyway. What about your mom? Or your grandparents?”

“My mother was a little taller than me, and her parents were about the same, as best I can remember. They both died when I was pretty young. But I think you’re on to something with your Grandpa Moe; he might be taller than I remember your adult self being. I think it’s his side of the family that you get your height from.”

“Oh.” Gideon thought for a moment, then brightened. “So it just skipped you, like you said!”

Rumple never thought he’d be grateful for the existence of Maurice French, but that’s exactly the emotion he felt right now. He’d always had mixed feelings about Gideon having any sort of relationship with his maternal grandfather, but had allowed it because Belle wanted it… with the caveat that they monitored that relationship closely, and would put an end to it if Maurice was being a bad influence on his grandson.

Maurice had behaved himself thus far. They’d never seen any signs that he was trying to turn Gideon against his father, which had been Rumple’s biggest concern. Moe’s good behavior may have had something to do with the two visits he received from Rumple and Belle – separately, with neither of them aware of the other’s actions till later – warning him that if he wanted a relationship with his only grandchild, he would refrain from negative comments about Gideon’s parents, their relationship, or their parenting choices.

“Yes, that’s it.” Belle was hugging Gideon with a relieved smile. “You get your height from your Grandpa Moe. So you can tell all your classmates to cease and desist, hmm?”

“But they’re not going to just take my word for it,” Gideon pointed out. “Can we do a magical blood test? If we get one of Grandpa’s hairs, and use one of mine, we can do the test and prove it with magic!”

“You shouldn’t have to prove anything to anyone, Son.”

Gideon rolled his eyes again, unimpressed with his father’s naivete. “Of course I have to prove it, Papa. It’s elementary school. If they don’t see it for themselves, it never happened.”

“But they’ll believe the story about you being a tall adult and then coming back as a baby, even though they were all babies themselves at the time and can’t possibly remember it?”

Gideon threw his hands up. “Okay, so they believe what they want to! I don’t make the rules! But can we do the blood test, please? So I don’t have to listen to the entire school call me a bastard for the next three months, or however long it takes for something else to distract them?”

“Alright, Gideon, we’ll do it,” Belle soothed, rubbing his back. Rumple shot her a look over Gideon’s head. He didn’t like the idea that his son felt compelled to prove his parentage, just to satisfy the undisciplined brats he had as classmates. Belle shot him a look back, saying pointedly to Gideon, “If it will put your mind at ease, we’ll do it.”

Resigned, Rumple nodded his agreement. Anything for their son.

“Great! Can we go right now, and ask him for the hair?”

“Ahh… well.” Belle hesitated, groping for an excuse, and Rumple came up with one smoothly.

“You can’t go, because it’s our night to cook dinner. You and me. You’re going to learn to make salmon and asparagus tonight, remember?”

“Do I have to?” Gideon whined.

“Yes,” Rumple said firmly. “You know the rules. I’ll teach you how to do things with magic, but you’re also going to learn to do things without magic. And that includes cooking. Your mum can go see your grandpa while we’re working on dinner.”

“That sounds like a great solution,” Belle beamed.

“Come along, Gideon. We should get started in the kitchen.”

Rumple ushered him out, sharing one last look with Belle as she followed him. Thank goodness they’d improved their communication from the early days of their relationship. They didn’t need to discuss it, to agree that it would be better if Gideon were not present when Maurice French was asked to help prove Gideon’s parentage. The man had restrained himself for ten years, but there was always the possibility that his deep loathing of Rumple would come out, and hurt their son.

“I’ll be right back!” Belle called from the door, and it closed behind her. Rumple urged his reluctant son into the kitchen.

“So Gideon, which do you think we should do first? Season the salmon, or trim the asparagus?”

The boy thought for a minute. “Are we going to be cooking anything in the oven?”

“As a matter of fact, we are,” Rumple answered, pleased that Gideon’s cooking lessons were starting to show results.

“So the first thing we do is turn on the oven, so it can be heating while we prep,” Gideon said, proud that he’d remembered.

“Excellent.”

They worked together, trimming the ends of the tender green asparagus and coating the salmon with olive oil, spices, and lemon juice. They decided to make dessert as well, as Gideon had been paying attention when his father asked earlier, and hadn’t forgotten the mention of cookies.

The counter was covered with baking ingredients and Rumple was adding the flour into the mixing bowl slowly as Gideon stirred it in, when he felt the tingle from his Dark One senses, telling him that he was being summoned. That hadn’t happened for a long time. What was even odder, was that his senses told him it was Belle summoning him, and she was right outside the door.

“You keep adding that flour in, a little at a time, and mixing it. I’ll be right back.”

Gideon nodded, intent on his task. Rumple wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, and slipped out the front door quietly. Belle stood on the top step, back to him, and he could tell right away something was wrong. Her shoulders were hunched, her arms wrapped around herself. She turned when he said her name and threw herself at him.

He drew her close and rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?” He held her away enough to see her face, and it was obvious she’d been crying. “What did your father say?” He would make that man pay for causing Belle to cry like this.

“He said… that the blood test wouldn’t work for Gideon, because he’s not my father,” Belle said, her voice shaking.

It took Rumple a moment to absorb her words. “Belle, I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Belle sniffled as she spoke. “Gideon isn’t the bastard. I am.”

[afishtrap]

mapping characters

The past few weeks, I’ve been (finally) going back and looking at the story I'd set aside for all of 2017. I knew whatever was broken lay in the opening chapters, so I started reading a bunch of advice on story structure, stakes, character goals, and whatnot. 

What kept tripping me up wasn’t really that every character must have a goal (duh). It was that this goal should in some way be thematically tied to the final resolution, and the lie the character believes, the character’s normal world, don’t even get me started on the inciting incident, and what is my theme, anyway. 

I’m not a plotter by nature, but neither am I really a pantser. Apparently there’s an in-between type called a polisher:

Unlike a pantser who gives over to the freedom to write whatever comes to mind or a plotter who decides it all ahead of time, a polisher will write a scene then analyze it. Is it good enough? Does it work with the previous scene(s)? How can it be made better? What needs adding or changing in previous chapters to facilitate this new revelation? Only when everything previously written is polished and perfect is this writer ready to move to the next scene. 

Which is fine, except that when the opening chapters aren’t solid, it’s a story built on sand. The issue now is fixing that bad foundation, and that means nailing down the character arcs.  

Some recommendations: K.M. Weiland’s site, with excellent deconstruction of structural elements into comprehensible pieces. Another: Take Off Your Pants! by Libbie Hawker. It’s a little (70-page) ebook, but her approach is simple and genius. And also: Lessons from the Screenplay’s Logan vs. Children of Men — The End is in the Beginning, and Just Write’s Avatar: The Last Airbender — How To Write A Compelling Backstory.

In case this helps anyone else, behind the cut is the process I’ve figured out, and a google sheet in case you want a jump-start. 

The character arc spreadsheet’s first page goes in order of questions to ask, with a column for each character (up to eight, since that’s the number of POV characters I’ve got). I find the order confusing for long-term keeping, though, so the second sheet reorders it more logically, with additional rows for for digging into each character arc’s plot points. You should be able to re-save a copy of your own, or download it. 

And now for the explanations of what goes into each row:

1. what the character goes by

Just the character name. 

2. who is...

Enter a 4-8 word description of the character, at the start of the story. 

eg: "youngest daughter of border family"

3 internal need

Ignore the title there, for now. Just ask yourself: when the story ends, what lesson does the character learn? What’s their moment of truth in the finale? That’s what the character needs (to learn) over the course of your story, ergo, it’s the character’s ‘internal need’.  

Since I almost always have the finale set piece in my head from the beginning, this was easy: “no one is coming to save you, and you’ll have to fight even though the odds are bleak.”

4 major flaw

Now that you know what the character needs to learn, work backwards: what kind of person needs to learn this lesson? What significant flaw would be corrected by this lesson? (This has to be something the character can overcome; a character may struggle with being dyslexic, disabled, wrong skin tone, etc, but these are not flaws; they’re who the person is.)

I considered ‘passive’ but that makes for a boring character, until I realized the character’s real flaw is being sheltered. And since a certain invulnerability often results from being overprotected, I added unrealistically optimistic.

5 external want

This is the part that made my head explode, ‘cause I’d honestly never thought of it this way: given the character’s flaw, what’s the one thing, above anything else, that would satisfy them? What objective, if gained, would let them stay complacent, and never address this flaw? You want to find the hardest thing for the character to walk away from. 

Since this character is sheltered, her greatest desire must relate to being protected. Okay, her parents are both deceased, hrm, but something’s going on that requires a family elder, so her goal is to track down her long-lost uncle and convince him to come home. 

6 antagonist

This might be one character, or several, who want to either obstruct or compete with the character’s goal. If the character wants, say, a specific pony, the antagonist might be the person who refuses to sell the pony, or the antagonist is another buyer who also wants that specific pony. 

Which means if the uncle doesn’t want to leave the city, then the character’s antagonist is her uncle. But since his superior also doesn’t want him to leave, she’s got two antagonists: uncle and superior. 

7 who is...

Another 4-8 word description of the antagonist. Just a general idea. For multiple antagonists, I guess I could break this into 2-3 lines, but this is enough for now. 

So I went with uncle-monk and head-monk.

8 who wants...

This just helps to clarify what the antagonist seek. It needs to be either the opposite of the character’s goal (won’t sell the pony), or the same goal (buy pony so you can’t). 

If the antagonist is the uncle, that means his goal is stay in the city and keep being a monk. Note that his goal is not ‘refuse to go home’ -- that’s not a goal, that’s his response. His goal is why he makes that response. 

9 ally

This is another of Hawker’s insights that I haven’t seen anywhere else, and it’s not in the classic sense of ‘the one who helps’ (although the ally may do that, too). The ‘ally’ is the one character with power to force the character onto the correct path and/or to recognize the truth. 

Just as importantly, this could be anyone. It might be a frenemy providing a harsh wake-up call, or a consistently supportive friend -- but it can also be the antagonist, if their interaction makes the character realize what lies ahead if she doesn’t change.

I have another set piece just before the finale, where the character’s mentor gives her a pretty brutal wakeup call about what they’re facing. So that mentor is probably filling the ally role.  

10 who is...

Another 4-8 word description of the ally, but since this character’s ally is also a POV character with her own arc, I’ll just copy-paste this to that character’s list when I get to her. 

So for now, the ally is described as lady of the castle.

11 lie they believe

Take the flaw, and see it as a coping mechanism. Then ask: how does the character rationalize this flaw as necessary to survive in their world? That’s the character’s lie. That’s their core belief that’s going to get broken down over the course of the story. 

I’m thinking the lie is probably going to be along the lines of it won’t be that bad or why worry, it’ll work out.

12 normal world

And another step backwards: the ‘normal world’ is the setup in Act 1, before the catalyst turns everything upside-down. The normal world reinforces the lie, so the character can keep rationalizing their coping mechanism, and remain complacent.    

That means in my story, the normal world should reinforce that’s someone else’s concern, or maybe you’ll be okay as long as you have a protector.

13 wound

And another step backwards: the ‘wound’ is some past event that led to the character developing the lie and the coping mechanism. It could be negative or positive -- but something about it prompted the character to develop the lie and the flaw. I say ‘positive’ because ‘being loved and cherished as a child’ is good, but at the extremes, it’s stifling.

I first went with raised with strict limits, but later I came back and changed this to was unprepared for/overwhelmed by losing protective loved ones.

14 greatest fear

Now we’re into character elements that we’ll use to hammer the character over their arc. First is their biggest fear -- so for this step, think of what someone with this major flaw might fear the most. 

A sheltered character would probably be the most afraid of not having anyone to turn to or not knowing whose advice to take. 

Having these fear-variations means I can hit one note in one scene, and hit the other in the next scene. That way the hammering doesn’t feel too repetitive.

15 strength

Looking back up the list, there’s got to be some quality this character has that’ll make it possible for them to overcome their flaw and learn that lesson (the internal need). It doesn’t have to be the opposite of their flaw, either. It just needs to be something they demonstrate, that gives glimmers of what they’ve got that will help them grasp or accept the truth. 

I’m going with tenacious and compassionate. 

16 true self

When the story ends, the character’s lie is tossed aside, flaws acknowledged (if not fully resolved). What’s the character really like, now? Note that for sequels, this ‘true self’ becomes the foundation of the next story’s ‘major flaws’. 

This character will end with self-reliant and outspoken. That way, in the sequel, she’ll start with flaws that distort her to an extreme: rigid and brash.

17 key incident

Aka, the second half of the catalyst. It’s tied thematically to the overall character arc -- but not obviously so, since most characters wouldn’t willingly put themselves on a collision course with their lie or flaws. The inciting incident creates the crisis, and the key incident is what appears to solve it. Together they form the catalyst that kicks everything off. My aha moment was thanks to Lessons from the Screenplay:

The best inciting incident is one that makes your hero think he has just overcome the crisis he has faced since the beginning of the story. In fact, due to the inciting event, the hero has just gotten into the worst trouble of his life.

Again keeping in mind the character’s flaw, lie, and goal, the key incident should present a solution that gets the character moving, and/or provokes them into identifying the goal listed in step #5. But at the same time, it should be a solution that appears to let their lie and flaw go unchallenged. 

That means for my character, the key incident is friend must travel to the city but specifically that the friend offers to be protective escort.  

18 inciting incident

The inciting incident is a short-term, concrete crisis, and the one place you can use coincidence to kick things off. It just needs to be a problem (lack of money possibly being the most common) that can be resolved via the key incident. Btw, you can do #17 and #18 in either order. I just find it easier to figure out the solution (key) and work backwards from there to identify a problem (inciting).

I’m going with landlord requires signature of eldest family member.

and lastly, stakes

That’s right, stakes aren’t called out ‘cause they should shift and grow across the course of the story. The preliminary stakes lie in the catalyst, though, and those stakes will carry to about the first plot point (where the antagonist or obstacle becomes clear). 

External stakes should pile on all the way up to the finale, but I’ve come to see the internal stakes as lying in that conflict between the external want and the internal need. For the first half of the story, the character’s internal stakes revolve around holding onto their lie, and acting in accord with that. But every time they do, the story should hammer them with some element of their greatest fear coming true. 

The midpoint drives home how unprepared they are (thanks to their lie), and it locks them in so there’s no going back. Then comes the ‘dark night’ where they realize the final thing holding them back is the lie they’ve believed; this is when their internal stakes shift from ‘stay who I was’ to ‘become the person I really am’.

multiple protagonists

Although the spreadsheet is set up to do multiple protagonists, the steps here don’t really go into how each protagonist will impact the other. You do want to bring their threads to a unified conclusion at some point (usually the finale), but if you merge two sooner than that, then you might want to do a new arc for each character starting from that point. 

Frex, two characters come to the city (to get jobs), meet, both fail (not hired), but now they’re stuck (no money for train home) -- so they might concoct a new goal between them (rob a bank), and set about on that. In that case, you’d treat that first arc as Act 1, and launch them into a life of crime at Act 2.    

Hopefully some of you will find all of this useful. Happy arcing!

[themurphyzone]

Secret Santa Ch 5

LOL I couldn’t resist the Milanda I hope you’re happy.

Ch 5- Lydia

It wasn’t that she hated Bradley. She just held a really, really, really strong dislike to his sour attitude toward everything.

“Do you want to work on page two or page four of the packet?” Lydia asked. “I don’t mind taking the short answer if you want the multiple choice, then you can look over what I wrote when you’re done.”

“I’ll take the short answer,” Bradley said, not looking up from the answer. “I can never read your writing because it’s so sloppy.”

It took all of Lydia’s self-control to not screech at the bluntness of that statement. Even if she heard it from Amanda a million times before. At least she was nice about it though.

Before she could put too much thought into it, there was a loud pop by the door. The pencil sharpener broke off the wall, sending a cloud of shavings in Milo’s face. “Sorry!” he called out.

Bradley rolled his eyes. “This is what he gets for not switching to mechanical.”

Lydia pushed her pencil against the paper hard enough to snap the lead.

“You’ve procrastinated on this long enough,” Amanda said, pacing around Lydia’s bedroom. “You are coming up with that gift idea right now. And there will be no foreign dramas, no musical theater, and no recruiting for the next school production until you have that idea. Am I clear?”

Lydia pushed a pillow against her face, refusing to see anything but the comfort of darkness. “No.”

She felt something fluffy and soft smack her on the bottom.

“You are to think, breathe, and sweat gift ideas until I say otherwise,” Amanda said.

Lydia groaned and flipped over so she could see Amanda clicking her pen as she waited.

“To free up your motor functions, you’ll think and I’ll write the list,” Amanda explained.

And so the most painful half-hour of her too-short life had dawned upon her with the force of a thousand burning suns.

“Scented candles, not too heavy but not too light,” Lydia said. “Ones that perk the senses, but not enough to overwhelm.”

Amanda finally set the pen aside, her eyes flicking as she scanned the list. “Lydia, these are all things you like,” she sighed. “We don’t know for sure if Bradley likes scented candles, various Broadway soundtracks, Love Handel, or I quote ‘the cute boy with the braces in the third row of Mrs. White’s class’.”

Drawing her knees up to her chest, Lydia pouted. “What? Chad’s cute. And I’m not the only one who has a thing for boys who have a penchant for finding trouble.”

“We are focusing on gift ideas for Bradley!” Amanda said furiously. “Don’t change the subject!”

“Wait, I have a brilliant idea!” Lydia exclaimed, grabbing her phone. “This isn’t over, by the way.”

Lydia 4:32 pm

I need your help stat

Her phone buzzed a few minutes later.

Melissa 4:36 pm

I HAVE A MILO YOU ARE NOT PUTTING ME IN A HUMAN SIZED GIFT BOX

Lydia fell against her pillow, ignoring Amanda’s disapproval of the only idea she had.

“What? You ruled out all my other options. I’m allowed a last resort.”

She had zero luck in figuring out what Bradley liked. He spent all of second period sulking while Mrs. Murawski attempted to polish her desk and teach the class the carbon cycle at the same time.

Lydia heard the stories of Bradley’s inexplicable attraction to the self-serve ice cream machine on the yacht. While she hadn’t witnessed his flirting firsthand, she had seen Mort emerge from one of the lower rooms while hauling Bradley up, both covered in melted strawberry ice cream and rainbow sprinkles.

As she walked down the hall to her locker, she was too engrossed in her thoughts to notice where she was going. Her head slammed into something hard and metallic, and she fell on her back, groaning in pain.

When her vision cleared, she found Milo kneeling beside her on the floor. “Lydia, I’m so sorry!” he said quickly. “What’s your full name? How many fingers am I holding up? Where were you on the night of May 23rd?”

The hit hadn’t been hard enough to give her a concussion at least. “Lydia Brooks,” she said, the throbbing settling into a dull ache. “Holding up three fingers, and May 23rd is my older cousin’s birthday, so probably out celebrating at a restaurant.”

“Okay, you pass,” Milo said, helping her up with a grin. “Though I could’ve sworn it was two fingers.”

Lydia poked the masking tape wrapped around the fingers on Milo’s right hand. “Your pinky is in there too. Didn’t notice?”

“No, I guess I didn’t,” Milo chuckled. “So, about that gift box-“

“I wasn’t planning on texting Melissa to meet me in the theater room so I could substitute a tuba case for the gift box! What makes you think that?” Lydia laughed nervously.

“You know you don’t need to resort to illegal methods to obtain your Secret Santa present, right?” Milo asked. “Besides, it wouldn’t have worked anyway since Melissa’s standing right behind you.”

“What?” Lydia shrieked, turning around to find herself face to face with Melissa. “Hey girl! What’s up? Um, so about the whole gift box thing, I was joking! Just a silly inside joke between me and Amanda, so we cool?”

She finished with an awkward grin.

Melissa had brought her best unimpressed face to the conversation. And Lydia was no match for it.

“Okay, I admit it! You caught me! I need help!” Lydia clung to Milo’s sweatervest, sinking to her knees in desperation. “And I’m not talking about professional help here!”

“Relax,” Melissa said. “I just so happen to have the seat next to Bradley in computer lab. Did you know he likes to look up kittens on the Internet? Guess he has a soft spot for animals.”

Lydia nodded. “So I can just get him a card with a kitten and maybe a cat pun! Thanks, you’re the best! And the tuba case in the theater room? I don’t know what I was thinking with that! Jeez, you’d think the president of the theater club would have a level head!”

“Yeah, you’d think,” Melissa said dryly.

“Perfect,” Bradley grumbled. “This is how I always wanted to go out. Trapped behind the bleachers by an overturned parade float of an obscure band alongside a theater kid.”

Lydia tried to push the paper mache aside, her feet scrabbling against the concrete. When that didn’t work, she tried checking for a gap at both ends. Unfortunately, her phone had died a few minutes ago so she had no flashlight to check for spaces large enough to peer through.

“Quit being so dramatic,” Lydia snapped. “Do you have any of our classmates’ numbers in your phone? Besides, Milo’s there. He’ll get us out.”

She knew Bradley was rolling her eyes at her even if she couldn’t see him that well. “I texted Melissa. She said Milo is busy trying to get the crowbar away from a mischievous capuchin monkey. Figures. We’re completely reliant on the most dangerous kid on Earth.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t be so reliant on them if you didn’t just sit there moping about it,” Lydia growled. “And what beef do you have with Milo? Just because Murphy’s Law happens from time to time doesn’t mean it’s the culprit behind every little bit of bad luck.”

“Let me think,” Bradley shot back. “What caused us to be stuck on the deserted island? What caused the sentient blob the day we had Mrs. Baxter? But most importantly, what caused Carla’s destruction?”

Lydia didn’t reply.

“Murphy’s Law! And by extension, Milo!” Bradley declared. “If it hadn’t been for him, then Carla would still be bolted to the wall!”

Wait. Lydia had been expecting him to focus on Milo, not have a fixation on a machine. There was something seriously wrong here.

And then it hit her.

He was lonely. Guy seriously needed a break.

Truth be told, she was starting to feel bad for mocking the Carla incident behind his back.

She was going to feel awkward for this, but there weren’t enough people around to make her embarrassed. “Hey, I’m really-“

A soft cry interrupted her.

She glanced around, though unable to see much. To her surprise, Bradley stood up, his phone light on to serve as a flashlight. He motioned for her to keep quiet, and she nodded, listening carefully for any more sounds.

A louder cry sounded from beneath a low hanging beam.

Bradley angled his phone light down, the beam falling upon a small, ruffled kitten with a dark gray coat. The kitten mewed again and rubbed up against Bradley’s leg. Lydia clutched a steel beam, trying her best not to faint from the cutest kitten she’d ever seen in her life.

To her surprise, Bradley bent down and picked the kitten up. “Are you lost, kitty?” he asked softly. His voice lacked the sharp edge she had grown accustomed to, and she almost fell over in shock.

The kitten wriggled and twisted, before resting her head in the crook of his elbow. Her amber eyes blinked up at Bradley.

If someone told her that Bradley was a cat lover a week ago, she would’ve laughed in their face. Heck, earlier she was only using it to her advantage because it was the only gift idea she thought Bradley wouldn’t completely treat with a hundred percent contempt.

And even then ‘get something with cats’ was a bit vague.

A grinding noise sounded from the side of the parade float, breaking the kitten out of her relaxed state. She mewed frantically while Bradley gently stroked the top of her head to calm her down.

The truck shifted enough to allow them space to squeeze through, and they emerged to a round of cheers from their classmates. Milo’s hair was messed up and half of his sleeve was missing, but like everyone else he was happy to see them safe and sound.

“Sorry, it took so long,” Milo said. “A capuchin monkey stole my crowbar. Then Zack activated the confetti cannons and it blasted Chad in the face so we had to calm him down while he ran around in circles.”

Over to the side, Chad was clutching his left eye. “I can still feel the paper,” he muttered.

“Where did the kitten come from?” Melissa asked. She was one of the few girls who hadn’t crowded around Bradley to get a better look at the kitten in his arms.

“She’s a stray,” Lydia replied. “Took an instant liking to Bradley too. They just clicked.”

Melissa nudged her. “Just squeal to high heaven about the cuteness already.”

Lydia shrugged. “Not right now. I need time to think for my dramatic monologue. These things take practice.”

The discovery of the kitten had put Bradley in such a good mood that he didn’t protest Milo stroking her fur. “Are you keeping her?” he asked. “She’s a total cutie!”

“I’m not heartless. What do you take me for?” Bradley rolled his eyes. “Besides, my parents were already considering letting me adopt a cat.”

Milo grinned. “That’s great! Early Christmas presents are the best! Especially when they’re unexpected.”

“So what are you planning to call her?” Lydia asked.

Bradley looked down at the kitten, who stretched and nuzzled his face. “Pepper,” he said.

Everyone stared at him.

“What? You people can’t seriously expect me to name everything Carla.”

The next day, Lydia bought a red bow and a card that had a cute picture of two kittens chilling in a stocking above the fireplace.

She was confident Pepper would have a loving home. Seriously, whoever could butter Bradley up by merely existing had some major points in her book.

[thishazeleyeddemon]

kneel into a dream

y’all I’ve been REALLY feeling bnha recently

Anyway so this is a Tsuyu and Tokoyami fic because I Love Them. No tws except maybe some angst

I hope y’all like!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11796129 << AO3 link my dudes

Tokoyami is used to having nights to himself.

(Well. For a given value of that, anyway. With Dark Shadow curling around his ribs, digging its claws into his heart, he has long since forgotten what being entirely alone feels like.)

He knows several of his classmates have insomniac tendencies, has seen the light on in Todoroki’s room long after the clock has switched into the AM hours, has heard Uraraka pacing back-and-forth and music drifting from Jirou’s room, but most of them seem to prefer to remain in their own rooms when they can’t sleep. Even if they don’t, they avoid him. He doesn’t think it’s fear that causes that. It’s merely that, if you’re up late, you probably aren’t feeling very social.

In any case: Tokoyami gets the hours of eleven PM to three AM mostly to himself.

Except today, for some reason.

“Hi, Tokoyami.”

Tokoyami does not jump. His feathers do not poof out like a startled bird.

“Hello, Asui,” he says, voice carefully composed.

“Call me Tsuyu,” she says. Ah, yes. As - Tsuyu likes familiarity.

He shifts around on the couch so he can look at her. Her hair isn’t styled, falling around her face in long, tangled teal waves. Her eyes are strange and luminous in the darkness, shining orange like an autumn moon. She tilts her head in that way that she has. He feels examined, but, strangely enough, not in a bad way. There is no malicious intent, merely curiosity.

“You have pretty eyes,” Tsuyu says, and this time Tokoyami cannot deny the way his feathers puff up. Dark Shadow stirs. He hears phantom laughter that he knows Tsuyu doesn’t.

“I, uh - thank you, Tsuyu.” His face feels hot.

She tilts her head again.

“Sorry for embarrassing you,” she says. “You do have nice eyes, though.”

She sits down next to him on the couch. It creaks under her weight, small as she is. She sits fairly close, enough that he is conscious of how little body heat she has. It’s an interesting contrast to Tokoyami, who always runs hot.

“Why are you awake?” he asks. Tsuyu usually went to sleep at a reasonable time. He rarely saw a light under her door after midnight.

She shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep,” she says, and he wonders if maybe that’s not the whole of it, but doesn’t pry. He has no right to demand information from her, no right to ask to know what demons plague her soul.

You’re so dramatic, Dark Shadow snickers. He does not grace that with a reply.

“What are you doing?” Tsuyu asks. He pauses, suddenly remembering what he’s doing.

He mutters an answer.

“Kero?” Tsuyu tilts her head again.

“Preening,” he says a little louder. “I was...preening.”

“I didn’t know you had to do that,” Tsuyu replies, and he feels some tension drain away at the noncommittal tone of her voice, as if this isn’t even a little strange. He’s always been somewhat of a loner, but the concept of Tsuyu Asui thinking he’s weird lodges in his head as something to be avoided.

He has some dead feathers on his lap, and Tsuyu reaches out and takes one, large fingers delicate and careful. She looks at it, and he wishes he could read her better, because he has no idea what she’s thinking at all.

“Part of my Quirk,” she says finally, “Is that I need water more than most people. I don’t think I could go three days without water, like other people can. Do you have traits like that?”

He nods. “I have feathers on most of the rest of my body, and they need preening as well. Additionally, if I don’t cut my nails, they grow into talons.” He pauses, and adds: “I also have a very nice singing voice.”

Tsuyu makes a strange croaking sound. It takes him a second to realize she’s laughing. He peers at her, but there is only genuine amusement, as far as he can tell. Something warm curls in his chest.

“Do you sing a lot? I’ve never heard you.” Tsuyu leans back into the soft couch, eyes drifting momentarily closed. She looks tired - but then, it is 1:34 in the morning.

“Not often,” he replies, and her eyes drift open again. Her tapetum lucidum makes her eyes flash in the light from the window. She makes a soft croak in response, and then, says nothing. She is silent for long enough that he thinks that maybe she has fallen asleep, and is reaching back up to his feathers when -

“Can I help?”

“W - what?”

Tsuyu apparently takes the surprise in his voice as a dismissal, because she says, “It’s fine if you don’t want me to.” He still can’t read her face. Tsuyu is normally expressionless, but he thinks maybe she is going deliberately blank - trying not to scare him? He doesn’t know. He feels unmoored, drifting - feels the thrum of darkness under his skin, and tells Dark Shadow to calm again. There is certainly no threat here.

“It’s not that,” he says carefully. “Why do you want to -” He feels the sentence die in his mouth. There is no way to revive it that won’t make this even more awkward than it is increasingly becoming.

Tsuyu shrugged. “I do my friends’ hair all the time, kero.”

“Oh.”

Tsuyu eyes him. “Did I just friendzone you?”

“Wh -” He’s never been more glad to be a bird. His face would be red as a tomato, he’s certain. “No!” He takes a deep breath. “No, you did not.”

Tsuyu laughs again, quiet little croaks, kero, kero. “That’s good. Because you’re cool and I’d hate to not be able to be your friend.” A brief pause. “I’m also a lesbian, so. You wouldn’t have much of a chance anyway. Kero.”

“Oh.” Tokoyami is quiet for several seconds. “I too am queer.”

“I know.”

Tsuyu apparently just cannot stop shocking him! It’s almost rude! “I - I thought I hid it well!”

“You do. But,” and here Tsuyu winks at him, a gesture made strange by her mostly blank face, “I’m a very observant frog.”

“Oh.” The vice around his heart releases, as much as it ever does (Dramatic, Dark Shadow whispers again, voice filled with schadenfreude).

“So,” Tsuyu says. “Can I do your feathers or not?”

Tokoyami shifts, moving so his feathers are better positioned for her hands. “Simply correct the misaligned ones and pull off the loose, dead ones - and don’t pull off ones that aren’t loose,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Of course not, kero,” Tsuyu huffs. He feels the couch move and shift with her body, as she pulls herself onto her knees and closer to his back. He feels her knees touch him.

“Kero,” Tsuyu croaks. “Calm down, Tokoyami.”

“It’s been awhile since anyone has done this for me,” he admits, and forces himself to take a deep breath, tension leaking away -

“You’ve had a dry spell, huh?”

“Stop it!”

Tsuyu snickers, and touches his head - and oh, that feels nice. He has no hair on his head or anywhere on his body for that matter, but he imagines that this is what having someone run their fingers through your hair is like. Tsuyu is careful, fingers carding gently through his feathers. She isn’t exactly preening him right now, merely stroking cautiously, as if trying to gauge reactions, see what spots are sensitive.

He lets a deep, content sigh fall from his mouth.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Tsuyu drawls.

Tokoyami shifts. “My apologies.”

Tsuyu laughs again. If he didn’t hear wrong, she sounded quite affectionate, voice filled with warmth. She starts then on the business of actually preening him. Her fingers dig gently into his scalp as she runs her fingers through his feathers, realigning ones that were out of place. Despite himself, he relaxes more, eyes fluttering shut.

“You don't do this very often, do you.” Tsuyu’s voice breaks through the reverie.

“Ah - that's correct. How do you know?

“Your feathers are really messy.” This was stated blandly, with no inflection to indicate insult. Nevertheless, Tokoyami’s face got even more warm. He imagines Satou cooking eggs in the heat from his face.

“I don't often get the chance,” he admits. “It's hard to remember to do on my own.”

“Kero,” Tsuyu says. “You're like Yaoyorozu - I have to remind her to brush her hair sometimes.”  She plucks a feather from him, and he winces at the brief spark of pain.

“Sorry,” she says quickly.

“It's fine,” he says, with equal speed.

They don't talk much after that. Despite himself, Tokoyami continues relaxing. It's hard not to, with how soothing her fingers feel running through his feathers. It sends a wave of calm through his body. His breaths come slower, and deeper, as sleep begins to take a hold on him.

It never feels this nice when he preens himself. And soothing is definitely the right word. Because -

Because -

(Because he is four when Dark Shadow is born, and at a slumber party. He hadn't wanted to go, and his fear is the first thing Dark Shadow feels, his fear and distress and exhaustion. And it is dark in the room. It is so dark.

Because he is seven, and has no friends. He is not bullied, but he knows the only reason for this is because of Dark Shadow, because he is so much stronger than the rest of them. Instead he is avoided. He thinks, perhaps, that this is for the best.

Because he is thirteen, and no one has helped him in years. He gets everything on his own, wins training victories and academic accolades and he does it all on his own. He receives no congratulations, only covert jealous stares. And when he finally gets tired, there is no sympathy. No understanding.

Because he is strong, and terrifying, and self-reliant.

Because he is tired.

Because for once, he wants to be taken care of. Not treated as if he could attack them at any moment, not expected to always stand entirely on his own.)

-  Tokoyami’s head falls forward, a deep shuddering breath coming from his mouth. Tsuyu's hands falter.

“Are you okay?” Her voice is quiet, full of worry. Care. For him. Tokoyami is suddenly afraid.

“Of course,” he says, knowing he sounds stiff.

For a few seconds, Tsuyu does nothing. She starts again eventually, still handing him delicately. He has never been treated like he was something delicate before, like he was something rare and precious. It is - it is new. He can't analyze it beyond that.

He doesn't want to move away.

“Why could you not sleep?” Tokoyami asks.

Tsuyu says nothing for several seconds.

“Tsu-”

“Nightmares.” It is a word flung away like one might toss away something they did not realize was distasteful. It's like she's trying to get it over with. She moves again behind him. He thinks he can feel her long, teal hair on his shoulders - it is smooth and cool.

“I get nightmares sometimes.”

The moonlight coming through the window is silver and clear. The two of them are sitting in shadow, though, hidden in darkness. Anyone entering the room would not immediately be able to see they were there. They are - they are safe.

“What do you dream of?” He tries to speak quietly, carefully. She is handling him with care, he will do the same for her.

Tsuyu does not speak again for several seconds. She does not seem to be preening him now so much as simply petting, stroking his feathers.

Eventually: “Do you remember the USJ attack?”

“Of course. I was warped to the Downpour Zone along with Kouda. Where were you?”

“By the main battle.”

“Oh. You saw All Might fight Nomu, then?”

“Yes, but -”

“But what?”

When Tsuyu speaks again, her voice is measured and controlled, but not natural-sounding. He thinks maybe she is trying to avoid showing emotion. This is impressive, considering what she speaks of.

“One of the people who came there to kill All Might...he tried to kill me. He was going to use his Quirk on me, and turn me into dust. He said something about damaging All Might’s pride as the Symbol of Peace. He was going to kill me just to hurt All Might’s pride…”

Her voice trails off. Her hands still.

Tokoyami twists around to face Tsuyu.

Her face is still mostly expressionless. That's fine. Her large eyes, filled with unshed tears, and her hands, which are balled into fists on her knees, speak enough for the rest of her.

“I would have died just to hurt All Might’s pride,” she says again. Her voice is distant.

Tokoyami is no genius. He knows this. But even a fool could see what to do here.

He wraps his arms around Tsuyu's slim body. She puts up no resistance at all, falling forward onto him. She is so small. She is only a few inches shorter than him, but right now, she is so small.

She is crying in earnest now, tears soaking into his pajamas. Her whole body shakes with it, little croaks spilling out of her mouth.

“I know this is silly,” she manages to get out in between sobs. “I know it's been months, but I just - he was going to disintegrate me -”

“Shhh,” Tokoyami whispers. He strokes her hair, and wishes he hadn't asked - not because he didn't want to comfort her, but because - she looked so small. So small. “Shhh. It's okay. It is.”

“I haven't… I couldn't cry when I went home that day,” she confesses. “My parents were out on a business trip and my siblings needed me to make dinner and I felt like I was dying and I couldn't cry…”

“Shhh,” he says again. “You can now. I don't mind.”

She does, her small body shaking against him, breath coming out as gasps. Dark Shadow comes out, but all that it does is pat her head. Dark Shadow is not made for gentleness, but it is doing a good job.

“It's okay, Froggy,” Dark Shadow whispers. “It's okay.”

Tsuyu manages a smile for Dark Shadow. She takes a deep, shuddering breath. She is no longer crying, but makes no move to get off of him. In fact, she moves so she is curled more into him, head nestled under his neck. He does not tell her to move.

“I'm sorry,” she says, eventually. “It was nice, and then I went and started crying everywhere.”

“Don't apologize, I think you needed that.” Dark Shadow hums in agreement, and strokes her hair again.

“It's okay little Froggy,” it says again. “Don't cry. I don't like that.”

Tsuyu sniffles. Much to Tokoyami’s amazement, she reaches up and pats Dark Shadow’s head, petting it gently. Dark Shadow doesn't seem to know how to react to a friendly touch either, and flinches. Tsuyu pauses, hand still raised, and Tsuyu and Tokoyami watch as Dark Shadow slowly presses its head back into her hand, closing its golden eyes.

Tsuyu smiles, as best as she can, and Tokoyami thinks all of a sudden that the time in which they had been in the same class and not been friends was time wasted. He feels less ragged than he has in years, and it is a new feeling, and it scares him, and he loves it, like a starving wolf loves meat. He was starving.

Dark Shadow eventually retreats back into Tokoyami, patting Tsuyu's head as it went. “Bye bye little froggy,” it said to Tsuyu. “Don't cry.”

Tsuyu does not move. She stays curled into Tokoyami. She is holding him now too, he realizes. One arm curls slightly around his body too. It is…it is nice. He feels content.

“You remind me of my friend Habuko,” Tsuyu hums.

“How so?”

“Everyone thinks you're frightening, but you're actually just a dork. A soft dork. And you have an animal head.”

“You have a type, then?”

She stares up at him, obviously shocked, before laughing. Kero, kero. He laughs too, conscious of how foreign it feels in his mouth.

“That's a dorky joke, kero.”

“And yet, you still laughed.”

“I like dorks.” Tsuyu raises one hand and begins counting off. “Habuko, Ochako, Deku, you -”

“I see your point, Tsu.”

Tsuyu says nothing, and for a moment Tokoyami feels a thrill of panic run through him - was that too much -

Tsuyu yawns. She stretches, as best she can when she's still in Tokoyami’s embrace, and settles back against him. She makes another soft little croak.

She's so comfortable around him. Terror rises inside him, but all he does is wrap his arms tighter around Tsuyu. She trusts him. He can't let her down.

He sighs. It's so late. He feels exhaustion rising, a soft, dark wave. He leans back to rest his head against the armrest of the couch, and Tsuyu follows the movement. Her hair tickles his neck.

“We should go to sleep,” Tsuyu says.

She does not move.

“Perhaps,” Tokoyami replies. He hears sleep thick as syrup in his voice. He does not move either.

Tsuyu reaches up and scratches his head, runs her hand through his feathers. He sighs again.

“That feels nice,” he murmurs. “Peaceful.”

“Kero,” Tsuyu murmurs. Her hand stills.

~••••~

The next thing they know, they are being awoken by peals of laughter, shrill awws, and the click of a phone camera.

Tokoyami opens his eyes and for a split second thinks he might be hallucinating, because they seem to be covered by a thin blanket of darkness. Then it moves, and Dark Shadow peels away from him so he can see clearly.

The people who have found them are Kaminari and Ashido. Kaminari has his phone out, and Ashido is squealing.

Tsuyu, he sees, is still asleep on his chest. Her breathing coming deep and slow, she doesn't seem to be having a nightmare, unlike him.

“Nice job getting a girlfriend, dude!” Kaminari says, jovially.

“You two are so cute together!” Ashido cheers.

Kill me, Tokoyami thinks. To Ashido and Kaminari, he says, “You jump to conclusions. Ts - Asui and I are not dating.”

“Oh, sureeee you're not,” Kaminari drawls. Tokoyami’s eyes narrow.

“We are not,” he repeats. “Asui merely had a hard night. She required comfort.”

“What kind of comf -” Ashido starts, face twisted into a huge grin. Dark Shadow, who had not retreated into Tokoyami, still high on darkness, snarls at her.

“Leave Froggy alone. You're irritating,” Dark Shadow growls. Ashido gulps, perhaps remembering her Sports Festival loss to Dark Shadow, and pulls Kaminari away.

Tsuyu finally stirs. She blinks sleepily at the world around her.

“You're not my bed,” she says to Tokoyami.

“I'm not,” he agrees, and pulls himself properly into a sitting position. Tsuyu moves off him, standing and stretching.

“Kaminari and Ashido think we're dating now,” he tells her. Might as well get it over with.

“Nah, Ashido doesn't, she knows I'm gay.” Tsuyu runs her hands through her hair. “She was just messing with you. Kaminari probably does, but Jirou will set him straight. He tells her everything, so I'm sure she'll find out.”

“Huh.” Tokoyami doesn't know what to say to that.

Dark Shadow pats Tsuyu's head. “Good morning, froggy.”

“Hello, Dark Shadow.” Tsuyu pats it back.

Dark Shadow yawns, and retreats back into Tokoyami’s body. He feels it begin to sleep, as it usually does during the day when left alone.

Tsuyu stretches again. “It's Saturday, right?”

“It is indeed.”

Tsuyu turns to him, and gives him the best smile her face can muster. “Want to go out to get some food?”

Tokoyami did his best to smile back. “I think I would like that very much.”

“Cool. I’ll go ask some of the girls, too.”

“Wait, what?”

Tsuyu paused at the doorway. “Also - thank you for last night, Fumikage.”

“You're welcome, but what was that about -” Tsuyu was already gone. “Tsuyu!”

(It turned out to be Jirou who went with them. He could live with that. Plus, he and Jirou had basically the same music taste.)

Fin.