#I didn’t want to be homophobic. but I guess that’s what happens when you stick 2 people in a barn for years

[letzgetsilly]

Terrible Steven Universe comic I made at 3am based on something that happened in The Sims

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

If this is not too personal, how does your family/siblings etc. react to you being a lesbian? Because I was just having fun with my siblings and my brother joked about beating up my boyfriend if I have one and when I slightly hinted that my ‘boyfriend’ could be a girlfriend he said he’d still beat her up and deadass said ‘don’t dirty this family’ as in ‘don’t fucking pull this family into dirt by being into women and giving us a horrible reputation for having a lesbian daughter/sister’… I’m straight up hurt and furious and feeling like weeping now cause even though I could have guessed my brother is homophobic I didn’t expect him to be like that. My brother believes that siblings should stick together but that apparently doesn’t count if I’m not into men. I’m from a Turkish family too and being homosexual in a Turkish family straight up means that you might as well not be a part of this family at all. Turkish people are rather conservative and still thinking in an old way which is frustrating. :( Especially because it’s Muslim households too, and yk Islam and homosexuality does not go well..

I’m very sorry if you don’t accept vents etc. I was just curious about if your family is or thinks like that too or if you had the same experience? Feel free to delete this if this might be triggering or if my question was too personal etc.

I'm very sorry that happened to you. I wish I had advice, but I don't. All I can say is that there are people out there who will love and support you. I hope you can find them.

My family is democratic but I did worry that I'd be met with homophobia (and I was) when I came out. My father was a deeply Christian man. He straight up claimed to get visions from God. He never directly said anything homophobic. The one thing I can remember is being in a shoe store when I was little and asking my father why pink shoes were in the men's section. He made a sort of disgusted face and said it was for men on the "wise side". Why did he use that phrase as a stand in for being gay? I don't know, but I do think it's kind of funny. Apparently gay men are wise!!

Anyway, as you can imagine, I was not particularly stoked to come out to him.

My mother was worse and better. She was not as religious as my father. She had gay friends. She loved Ellen Degeneres. I never heard her say anything homophobic growing up. However, she was worse because she's abusive 💀 When I was a child, I wondered why my father would be with her when she was so fucking mean and awful. I wanted nothing to do with her. I wouldn't leave my room if she was hanging about. Just generally a really awful mom. I had no strong feelings about coming out to her. I didn't think she was homophobic but I didn't wanna tell her things in general.

Like most gay kids, my parents knew before I told them. When I officially told my dad, he didn't care. Didn't say anything about it. He wasn't homophobic towards me or anything.

Honestly, I'm just now realizing how funny it is that my deeply religious father had no qualms about me being gay but my mom did 😭.

My mom wasn't like. Violently homophobic when I came out. Just casually so. She was all like "so you like to dress like a boy??" in a really unpleasant tone of voice. And she asked me to "keep an open mind" and constantly accuses me of actually being bisexual. She says that I "think" I'm gay. It's just very casual homophobia on her part. She clearly doesn't like the fact that I'm only interested in women even though she claims to love me and accept me no matter what. It's very clear that seeing me with a man would make her happy.

Idk. My coming out wasn't awful. My brother is bisexual. I don't have a relationship with anyone else in my family tbh. So, yea, that's my story. Also, I accept all types of asks. My inbox is always open.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

Against my better judgement, I am on twitter sometimes. And two things I saw there in the past day or so are really sticking in my head right now. One, some random asshole decided to be blatantly homophobic and even @’d Horikoshi about it—you know the whole “Deku is straight” thing? but in long thread form. It got a lot of attention somehow. Two, I saw people talking about Red Hood, which I have not read, but I guess it’s getting axed and the mangaka went full meta in the story taking his frustration out on his editorial and readers, and rightfully so, it seems. For those who don’t know, that mangaka was an assistant of Horikoshi’s too.

I’ve got this pit in my stomach now. I know that all kinds of creative industries worldwide can be brutally fickle and domineering over their humble visionaries, who lie awake at night wondering if the world will hear them out. They sometimes have to take what they can get, hide in subtext, or face censorship and cancellation.

I think about Horikoshi (in his notes in the published volumes) talking about feeling grateful and surprised that he’s still making this story, when he wouldn’t have been surprised if it didn’t stay popular. I think about when I was first deciding if I wanted to check out bnha, reading reddit discussions from years ago where people characterized it as “well executed but predictable, nothing you haven’t seen before.” This has always baffled me, because it seems like an assumption made by someone who is taking everything at face value and ignoring a lot of details.

Consider the strategy of criticizing the powers that be by becoming a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Sneaking in by checking all the right trope boxes only to later twist them into subversions. Obtaining enough popularity to ride the wave past the gatekeepers. I want you to remember that behind every story there is a real person channeling their life experience, their dreams, and their convictions.

I don’t know what else to say because honestly I could go on for ages about like 10 different tangents and speculate until the cows come home. Maybe another time. Let’s just say I’m rooting for this to happen to us too, in the end.

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

Hi momdad! I hope you’re having a wonderful day so far.

So I kind of needed your advice on something. I’ve been attending university for a few years now and I’ve been friends with this girl for most of that time. And well, recently she kind of ditched me for this clique I suppose, that’s like a bunch of really cool and well known people and well, I’m really shocked. She’d been dropping hints for like 2 days I guess but still, I didn’t think she’d just ditch me for a shiny new friend group like that. The thing is, our friendship was very much due to circumstances, like when you befriend someone because you see them every day and tbh I don’t think we’d be friends if we weren’t classmates. But it was mostly a good friendship you know? We were respectful and we had our fun. So I’ve been feeling awful but on the other hand I know this is a good thing, she wasn’t the greatest friend, it felt like I was her therapist while I could barely talk about my problems with her. And I always spent so much time on getting her really well thought out gifts and the things she got me were so impersonal, like she didn’t know me at all. She would spill other people’s secrets to me even when I told her not to. And she would talk behind other people’s back in a really mean spirited way and I was just scared of standing up to her. She was also like really homophobic (very fun for a closeted bisexual like myself btw) and I don’t know, she had such a hot and cold personality, it always felt like I was walking on eggshells around her and like I could never really be myself around her and I know I’m not perfect obviously, I can be a bit blunt and blurt out things that are hurtful even though I don’t mean to upset people and I know I’m not the most affectionate person, even though I try. And I know the fact that I was willing to stick it out with her just so I wouldn’t be alone doesn’t reflect well on me at all and basically makes me look like a doormat. But I was so afraid of being lonely and not having friends. Which is what happened anyway I guess. But again, I’m so so scared of being alone. And the fact that I’m more upset about being alone than the fact that she won’t really be in my life anymore tells me all I need to know. I’ve been trying to have a positive outlook on this whole thing and I’m trying to be excited about having the chance to go out there and make new friends that match my personality better but the thing is I’m not the best at making friends, I’m really shy and introverted and it feels like everyone’s already made their friends and won’t be in need of more of them. I am friendly with a lot of people just no one that’s like a close friend like her. So I don’t know, I’ve been having a really bad time, I’ve lost my appetite and I can’t really concentrate while studying. I just feel so unlovable, like there’s something inherently wrong with me. So I’ll appreciate any words of advice that you might have for me💗 I’m really sorry this got so long.

hey there, sweetheart, i'm so sorry you're going through this hard time. i spent a long time struggling to make friends and feeling lonely, so i can definitely relate.

first off, i think you kinda dodged a bullet with losing this 'friend', and it sounds to me like deep down you know that too. i don't want to judge a young person too harshly, but at the very least, it sounds like she has a LOT of growing up she needs to do and right now she just isn't a very pleasant person to be around.

i understand being lonely and not having friends, i promise, but i've also learned that alone, as much as it sucks, is a lot better than being with the wrong people. and that ultimately, no matter how many friends you do gain, part of growing up is learning how to make peace with being alone. some people never learn how to just sit with themselves, and it causes them a lot of problems. if you can start facing that challenge early in life, you'll be ahead.

second of all, i'm just going to be blunt with this: i think there's a good chance you're autistic. don't just take my word for it, but my autism radar started beeping like crazy while i read your message, and i think it would explain a whole lot about what you're dealing with.

now, please understand that "autistic" isn't an insult or some kind of prison sentence. autism is just being a bit different, like having a brain that runs on a different operating system. sometimes that's cool, sometimes it causes problems when interacting with the world, but it's neither inherently good or bad, it just is.

i didn't realize i was autistic until i was in my 20s, and while kind of a shock, it actually turned out to be a huge relief, because it allowed me the chance to say "there's not something wrong with me, i'm just autistic. i'm not weird or crazy, other people like me feel the same way."

since i could go on for ages on this topic, i'd suggest you check out my autism traits tag and see what you think. if i'm wrong, no big deal, forget about it, but if you relate really hard to what you find there, then it might go a really long way to helping you understand yourself.

but, all that said, i'm not trying to pathologize you or 'explain away' your feelings. believe me, i totally get how you feel. i didn't have any real friends until i met my qpp when i was 17 (and we've been best friends for 17 years, go us), and high school was a humiliatingly lonely experience for me. i was always trying to be friends with other kids, and they'd say vaguely nice things about me, but never actually try to spend time with or talk to me. it made me feel just awful.

looking back, i have a lot of compassion for myself, because making friends IS hard when you're shy and introverted (and especially when you're autistic too), when people are generally nice to you but don't make any offers to become better friends. if i could give you a little advice, it'd be to speed up the process and go ahead and have some compassion for yourself now, because you're young and still figuring life out and this isn't easy and it's making you feel awful about yourself. that's a situation that deserves some compassion, don't you think?

remember that compassion isn't the same as pity. you're not "feeling sorry for yourself" if you just look at your situation and say, yeah, this is hard and i'm struggling. it makes sense for me to feel bad when i'm struggling with something hard.

but another piece of advice that i'd give is for you to always, always remember that no matter how they present themselves outwardly, everyone around you is wrestling with their own insecurities. the 'friend' who abandoned you? she really wants those cool people in the clique to like her. even those cool people in the clique are insecure.

everyone is insecure, especially the people who are trying the hardest to seem like they aren't. that's just how humans work. we're all scared deep down inside.

so while it's hard, and anxiety-inducing, i promise that there are tons of people around you who also want more friends, but are posturing and trying to seem cool, because who wants to LOOK like they need friends, right? the truth is, most people (who aren't jerks) are really happy to receive attention and to be asked to do something like go to lunch or go see a movie.

even more than that, people LOVE talking about themselves, so if you have an acquaintance that you'd like to get to know better, try asking a few friendly questions about their hobbies or style or pets or what they're studying. if you don't know what to ask about, you could say, "hey have you seen any good shows lately? i'm looking for something new to watch." that can easily start a fun chat, and once you've had a fun chat it's easier to have another one.

now, i don't want you to end up in another friendship where you're the one doing all the work all the time, so try to direct these efforts to someone who will ask you questions in return and seem interested in what you have to say. i'm not judging you for how you let your friend treat you, not at all, i just don't want you to let everyone treat you like that.

i know it's frightening and difficult, but socializing takes practice, like everything in life. it's okay to make flubs and embarrass yourself, i promise it's not the end of the world. just try talking to people, okay? especially if you relate to them and share similar interests. i have a social skills tag that might be helpful too.

if i could manage to find my best friend by commenting on her phantom of the opera fanfic on fanficion.net in 2005, you can find one too. <3

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

part v

~

cw: homophobic encounter.

~

November

November shadows, 

shade November change

November spells sweet memory, 

the season blue remains

~

“Lo!” Finn called. “Guess who just got traded to the Rags.”

Cool dread spun its way into Logan’s chest at full force. He felt the point of one of his hips knock against the counter. “Quoi?”

“Marshy and Morgs!” Finn said, and the appeared around the corner into the kitchen, red hair a mess. “Like, together. Like us.”

“These were Harvard teammates, yeah?” Leo asked, spooning sugar into Logan’s coffee.

“Like us?” Logan said. “They’re dating?”

“Oh, no,” Finn laughed. “I just meant together, like, at the same time. Around the same time, I guess I should say.”

“Wow,” Logan nodded, which prompted Finn to imitate the way he said wow, drawing out the W’s. Logan smiled, lifting his cup to his mouth. “We could visit them over the next free weekend maybe.”

“Damn, that’d be a blast to the past.”

“What are they like?” Leo asked, leaning into Logan’s side.

“You’d love Will. Will Morgan, Morgs,” Logan said. “Really level-headed, probably the nicest person I know. Marshy…”

“Percy Marshall is one crazy motherfucker,” Finn said, and poured his own cup of coffee, black.

Logan leaned into mock-whisper to Leo. “And Finn gets insane when they’re together.”

Finn shot him a look, but continued. “Best way to say it. He’ll party until the sun, he’s crazy superstitious—worse than Cap and Loops combined—and he’s also,” Finn slid onto a stool. “One of the hardest working guys you’ll ever met. Probably the hardest working.” Finn’s smile was one Logan’s favorite one, made even more so by the fact that he got to see it directed at Leo. “Until I met you, that is, Nut.”

Leo let out a pleased laugh and let Logan brush a hand through his hair. “Well, they’re in our division now. I’ll get to meet them.”

“Oh, man, we’re in for a fucking treat when we play New York next,” Finn grinned. “Gonna hit the town hard.”

Leo snorted. “You guys might.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I know everyone we need to know.”

“And I can finally tell you,” Logan began. “That the first time you dragged me around New York knowing ever person you saw, I loved you.”

Finn blushed a little and let Leo pull him to settle in the V of his legs from where he was leaning back against the counter. “Well, it’ll be nice to see them.”

Logan nodded, but part of his chest pulled. He cleared his throat. “Ouais. Also…”

When he paused, Leo tapped their socked toes together encouragingly.

Logan shrugged and looked down into his coffee. He thought of Finn’s quick breaths when they took the Cup back to Harvard. He thought of kissing him in their old room. He thought of everything before. Percy and Will were a part of all of that. Not directly, maybe, but Logan knew what seeing them again would do.

“Memories,” Finn said, and Leo nudged him.

“Don’t say it for him.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Memories,” Logan agreed. “Good and bad.”

~

Remus missed the net three times in fifteen minutes, and only barely managed to keep himself from breaking his stick against the boards. He would be embarrassed afterwards if he had, but could it really be so much worse than the way that he felt now?

He accepted Thomas’ fist bump as he passed him going into the locker room and sat down heavily in his stall. The game had been close, but the Devils had won out in the end. He glanced at some of the assistant coaches, who were murmuring together. There was no guarantee it was about him, but it still felt as thought it was. Sirius was talking with Evgeni, Evgeni’s loud laugh warming up the room. Remus stripped out of his sweaty uniform quickly and was headed for the showers with a towel around his waist when someone slapped him on the back.

“It’s decided,” Logan’s accent came from beside him. He wasn’t bothering with his towel, which was slung over his bare shoulder. The fleur-de-lis tattoo on his hip—and everything else—was on full display. “Me and Talker are taking you out tonight.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean exactly?”

Logan just smiled. “No boyfriends. No hockey. We have a day off tomorrow, so no pressure. Just some drinks.”

“And some pool, maybe,” Thomas said, coming up to Remus’ other side. “What do you say, Loops? Fun, eh?”

“Okay, one of you is butt-naked right now and the other is in a three-piece suit. I’m going to say yes and shower, all right?”

Thomas gave a whoop, and Remus couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he dropped his towel in the change room and turned on the hot water. He felt like a sling-shot lately, being catapulted one way, and then in the opposite direction. He guessed he should feel thankful that his friends could pick him up like that, and he did, but another part of him caved in beneath the sheer affection.

I’m letting you down.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, and looked over his shoulder when he felt a gentle, quick kiss against the back of his neck.

“Bonsoir,” Sirius said with a soft smile, and went to the shower head beside him.

“Hi,” Remus smiled back. “Beautiful goal tonight.”

He watched the water lace over Sirius’ tan skin, darkening his hair further as he pushed it back, away from his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Olli,” Finn called across the showers, making Olli look over at him. “You’re fucking beautiful, man.”

Olli just squeezed shampoo into his palm. “I know that, Harzy.”

Sirius’ laugh echoed through the showers, joined by others, and Remus let it warm around him like the steam.

“Apparently Tremz and Talkie are taking me out tonight,” he said to Sirius as they walked back into the locker room.

“Tremz,” Sirius called over to him. “Ouch.”

“Pas de capitaines,” Logan waved him off and went back to looking at whatever Leo was showing him on his phone. Sirius laughed and looked back to Remus.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Wake me up when you come in if I’m asleep.”

“And go to bed without a kiss?” Remus glanced down at the towel slung low across Sirius’ hips, then back up to his bright silver eyes. “I’d never.”

Sirius smiled and kissed him, but Remus felt the unspoken settling between them. Sirius had stopped bringing up wanting to help with Remus’ shortcomings on the ice. Remus knew he had brought that upon himself with refusals after refusals to talk about it, but now it felt more like a thing. An object. An ugly vase in the corner of the room.

Maybe he really did need to go out tonight.

Thomas settled in his stall beside Remus. “We’re gonna go to Red’s, yeah?”

Remus nodded as he pulled his gray t-shirt over his head. He held up his dark jeans. “I can wear this, right?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m not wearing this thing,” Thomas picked at the lapel of his suit. “Noelle already screen shotted the snapchat I sent her. Why keep it on now?”

Remus just laughed. “All right, Talkie. Lead the way.”

Red’s bar was shoved up against the side of a larger block of buildings in Gryffindor. Remus glanced up, one or two stars were poking through the increasingly cooling loud cover. Inside it was warm, though. Foggy in the way some rooms get when there are lots of happy people in them. Logan had chosen a long-sleeved, dark gray cotton shirt, so thin that Remus could see each ridge of his defined muscles and his necklace, too.

“What the fuck happens when that thing gets wet?” Remus snorted, plucking at it as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I’ll pretend we had a fight,” Thomas said. “Throw a drink on you, find out.”

Logan just eyed them suspiciously as they leaned against the bar. “You guys are strange.”

Thomas just flagged the bartender, stretching the white material of his thin knit sweater. He ordered a whiskey, Logan a rum and coke, and Remus opted for a lighter gin and tonic. They still had a game on barely 72 hours. Not that anyone was that much of a light weight, but he didn’t want any assumptions being made, any photographs taken that could put him in a worse light than he already was.

“I know what this is, you know,” he said after Logan and Thomas’ intense COD debate had gone on too long. They both looked over at him, the picture of innocence. Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Media’s a bitch,” Thomas said. “That’s all this is. Hockey’s hard. You can’t help that you live with Cap, who makes it all look like a piece of cake.”

Logan laughed. “I think Cap would disagree. He stinks after games, mon dieu.”

Remus and Thomas shared a look. “And you don’t?”

“Finn likes it,” Logan smirked. “Gets him going.”

“Are you sure its the stench and not the muscles?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Logan waved him off. “I’m not talking about this with you two. We’re here for Loops.”

Remus groaned. “Guys…it’s not…I mean every player goes through this, right?”

They both nodded.

“Sure,” Thomas said. “But it doesn’t help that some people—“

“Assholes,” Logan amended.

“Right. It doesn’t help that some assholes don’t think you deserve to be here.”

Remus tilted his glass towards him. “Yeah.”

“We just think…” Logan began uncertainly, tongue poking out to wet his full bottom lip. “Look, I love Cap. He’s like a brother. But he’s intense. For him…sometimes hockey solves hockey.”

Remus wavered. “Yes and no.”

“We just thought you might want some other ears,” Thomas offered a smile. “I mean we can’t offer a feel good night of lovin’ to make you feel better…”

Remus snorted. “Right. You know, Talkie, that’s exactly what Sirius calls it.”

Thomas cracked up, too. “But we can offer drinks. And, you know…”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Ears?”

“Right,” Thomas nodded. “Look at Tremzy over here, finishing my sentences.”

Remus let his smile die down a little. “I…thanks, guys. I mean, I love talking to Sirius, but I also…he is the Captain. He’s a representation of all of us. I feel a little…” Remus took a slow breath, not sure if he was even ready for the words to come out of his mouth. “I feel a little like I’m letting him, and you all, down sometimes.”

“Aw, Loops,” Thomas said, voice softened.

“I know,” Remus sighed. “It’s just…it creeps in sometimes.”

Remus watched Logan swallow. “I get it. If there’s anything I can understand it’s guilt.”

“Tremz,” Remus said comfortingly. “I guess I should listen to my own advice here, but it’s not your fault. I can be ears, too, you know.”

“Is this…” Thomas said quietly. “Carrot?”

They both stared at him. “Carrot?”

“Code names,” Thomas whispered, even though the tables were noisy and the bar was somewhat empty.

Logan laughed a little, and nodded.

Remus waited. Logan gathered thoughts slowly, carefully. Interrupting, he’d learned while talking with Leo, tended to scatter them. He was also happy that the spotlight wasn’t entirely on him anymore.

“I found him at Harvard,” Logan began, swallowing dryly despite the drink in his hand. “And I was a mess. And then we spent that year apart, and I was a mess. And then I found him again, in Gryffindor, and I was a mess. I fell in love with Leo and I was a mess.” He looked at them, eyes pleading, then back down at his drink. “I am so, so happy now. It worked out. I can’t believe my luck. I wake up so fucking happy every morning. Every little look at them, my life with them, is incredible.”

Remus and Thomas waited some more. Thomas sent Remus a half smile across him, then leaned his cheek on his fist.

Finally, Logan finished. “But I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t a mess without them.” He closed his eyes, exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it really does. Tremz, I get it.” He tilted his glass, making his ice cubes stir the liquid inside. “You’re someone when you’re with who you love. But you gotta be your own someone, too.”

“Ouais,” Logan was already nodded. “Right, like…Re, you’re you, no matter what. Leo, he’s the same way. Finn, too.”

Remus sighed. “I’m not so sure right now. But I think what you’re saying makes sense. Tremz, you’re allowed to want that for yourself. It’s not a slight to the boys. At all.”

Logan laughed, still laced with frustration. He rubbed at his eyes. “But I don’t even know what I’m asking for.”

Remus smiled. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve got a pretty level-headed duo in your corner. I mean, Finn’s Finn.”

Thomas snorted. “Might take him a second.”

Logan smiled and it was fond. “Yeah.”

“But Leo…” Remus snapped his fingers. “He’ll get it. They both will.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at the bar. “I’m not asking for space. I don’t want space. I don’t want anything to change I just want to stop feeling like I’ll crash and burn by myself.”

“Me too,” Remus admitted. “Maybe in a different way, but…me too.”

“I don’t know if I feel like I’m gonna crash,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “But hey, life’s tough sometimes.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Friends.”

They clinked their glasses together, laughing, the conversation turning to organizing a pick-up game in the park that weekend—if it didn’t snow. 

“Gotta use the big WC, gents,” Thomas said after a while, picking up his crutches. “Then pool?”

“Who the hell calls it that?” Remus snorted.

“Me,” Thomas called over his shoulder, politely excusing his way through the crowd with his charming smile and causing a few longing looks to follow him at his back.

Logan drained the last of his rum and coke. “You don’t feel like Cap’s putting pressure on you, do you?”

Remus looked at him, eyes widening for a moment. “God, no. No, he’s been nothing but supportive. It’s mostly me, I think. He even wants to talk about it. Sometimes I just…can’t.”

Logan nodded. “Good. No, good, I just thought I’d ask. When I first met him, he’d get like that with me sometimes. Wanting to run extra drills or talk through tape. I snapped at him for it a bit. This was before he was really who he is now.”

“Parents were lingering in him,” Remus nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

A man came to lean against the bar beside Remus, then, and Remus shot him a smile that he hoped looked friendly rather than uneasy. The guy was really in his space. He shared a look with Logan, who’s shoulders were rounded a little in alert, green eyes narrowed in on the guy.

“You’re Lupin, eh?” the man said.

Remus sighed softly, looking down at his now watery drink. He should’ve known.

“Yep,” he replied, and looked at the man. He had two friends, hovering a little ways back.

“What’s going on this season, huh?”

The worst part was that the man was smiling, as if he thought this conversation was going to go well.

“I mean, I know you’re with the Captain and all,” the man said. “But, I mean…come on. Some of us care about how the team does.”

“Excuse me?” Remus replied.

The man tilted his head, looking mockingly regretful. “It’s not just about you.”

“Okay,” Remus said, keeping his voice flat.

“What he do to get you there?” the man asked, leaning in like they were friends. “I mean, like…some type of reward, or does he already give you those at home?”

Remus flushed. “I think we’re done talking.”

At least his friends had the decency to look a little nervous.

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m just saying.”

“Fuck off, man,” Logan said in a low tone.

“What,” he sneered. “You got yourself a boyfriend, too, Tremblay?”

Logan was on his feet then, stools screeching back, taller than the man, stronger. Remus’ arm shot out against his chest, keeping him and his balled fists back. The man’s friend stepped forward, too.

“Whoa, Mike,” one of the friends said, hesitating. “That’s not why we…that’s not what this is.”

“Oh,” Thomas scoffed, announcing himself as he made his way back to them. He somehow made his crutches and boot look threatening. “Wrong type of harassment for you, my guy?”

The fans’ eyes went large. “Talker…”

Thomas just stared at them, and Remus watched him go from Thomas Walker with his friends to Thomas Walker on the ice, defensemen. Enforcer. “Only my friends call me that. Sit down at your own table or get out.”

Thomas shouldered through them, one crutch landing briefly on Mike’s shoe, who only just bit back a groan. Thomas was all bright, sharp grin as he sat down, leaning his crutches against the bar again. He waved the bartender over, then looked at Mike who was still standing there.

“Do I have say it again for you?” Logan snarled. “Trust me, you don’t want me to.”

Logan sat down slowly as the three men backed up and turned away. Remus pressed a thankful hand to his shoulder, also meant to calm him down a bit.

“Well, that was fun,” Thomas sighed. “Jesus. We take you out to forget about it and those three show up.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said, though his heart was pounding. “I’m surprised that was the first time it happened. Had a close call at the grocery store the other day.”

“Another round?” Logan asked. “Then pool?”

“Ouais,” Remus smiled, in his best impression of Sirius.

~

Most of November passed without change. Remus felt the stagnant ball of frustration in his stomach. He and Sirius cooked together, slowly mastering more and more recipes. Remus lived for the triumphant look on Sirius’ face when a dish came out just right. He went out with Logan and Thomas, with James and Sirius, Finn and Jackson and Kasey. He never felt more at home than when he was tucked against Sirius’ side at a team dinner, watching Logan toss food into Finn’s mouth from across the table, hollering when he caught it and then ruffling an embarrassed Leo’s hair, who was shushing them.

The weather had officially turned to Gryffindor winter, biting harsher and harsher with each night. It got to the point where Marlene started bugging them all about the Christmas video—for the fans, she kept insisting. Come on guys, it’ll be fun!

Evgeni seemed to be the only one who was truly game for it.

Remus wasn’t unhappy, but the media was growing more and more aggravated with him, the fans’ patience was running thin like ice, and now Arthur had started sending him glancing looks until, finally, he pulled Remus into his office as the boys were packing up.

The ball rolled around Remus’ ribs, fighting for space with his heart, and he sat in the leather chair across from Arthur’s desk.

Arthur took off his glasses, which was a bad sign. He didn’t say anything for a long time and Remus didn’t have the courage to make him.

“I know,” Remus finally said, and then his throat choked up. “I’m…”

“I don’t want any apologies,” Arthur said. “And, God, Lupin, I didn’t bring you in here to yell at your so get that look off your face.”

Remus blinked through the scarce relief and looked down at his hands.

“Media’s being real tough, I know,” Arthur sighed. “I know. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. “I’m just…it’s not connecting, I…I don’t know. Maybe I could put in more time one-on-one with one of the coaches. Or ground work with the trainers. I know we’re about to go on the road. Maybe tomorrow morning before practice.”

Arthur hesitated, then nodded. “If you’d like. But overworking yourself isn’t gonna help if that’s not the issue. Frankly, I don’t think skill is the issue. You’re a beautiful skater out there. You’re wicked fast and can misdirect hits like I’ve never seen. But…”

“No net,” Remus mumbled.

Arthur looked regretful. “No net.”

Remus nodded. “I’m working on it. I’m doing everything I can.”

“I don’t doubt that, Remus. Really. Don’t think I do. I’ll be seeing you at the Dumais Thanksgiving, yeah?” Arthur asked.

Remus nodded, spared a smile. “Of course.”

Arthur smiled back and rose. He clapped Remus on the back as he opened the door to his office again. “Good. Try and relax over the break, okay? I know it’s short, but sometimes its less work that pays off. It doesn’t always have to be more.” He looked up. “Ah, another young rascal I’ve had to say that to.”

Remus looked up to see Sirius’ smile, his dark hair curling against his neck, but otherwise tucked under a thick black winter hat. Every muscle in Remus’ body eased at the sight of him. He wanted to wrap himself up in Sirius, tuck himself inside of his winter coat and never leave.

“Cap,” Arthur gave him a nod. “See you for Turkey. Who you’ve got for the big game?”

Sirius just shrugged. “American football. Who cares?”

Arthur made a wounded noise—and another one came from Leo and Thomas down the hall as they were bundling up for the cold. Evgeni was holding Thomas’ crutches for him as Jackson helped him into his coat. Remus cracked up and took the warm palm Sirius held out. They walked down the hallway that smelled familiar and warm, under toned by the scent of carpet and cleaner that, had it been any stronger, would have been unpleasant, but it just added to the familiarity.

The garage door rattled shut behind them as Sirius unlocked their back door, letting them into their warm kitchen. Remus shook out of his coat, hanging it in the closet and rubbing his hands together. With his coat and bag, he tried to drop everything else at the door. This was his and Sirius’ space. This wasn’t a rink, or a locker room, or the press room. Theirs. The word was warmer than the heat Sirius had set to come on a half hour before they got home.

“I’m starving,” he said. “What do you feel like? I maybe want pasta.”

“I feel like you,” came the reply from behind him.

Remus’ smile was slow and he turned to see a glint in Sirius’ eye. “What is it, the cold weather? You’ve been all riled up after games lately.”

Sirius just grinned, hands squeezing Remus’ hips. “I love watching you out there.” He pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek, his neck and his nose, between each phrase. “I love your face, I love your feet, I love your shoulders, and the way you bite the finger of your glove while you watch the game between shifts.” The kisses got considerably more heavy, lingering and accompanied by the the brush of a tongue and teeth. “I love the way you cradle a puck and the way you tape your stick. The way your hair sticks to your neck.”

Remus just smiled, eyes closed. “I’ve been playing like shit.”

“Nu-uh,” Sirius said, and Remus whined a little at the next nip, letting Sirius rock him back against the kitchen counter. “Slumps are normal. You play amazing. Just no points. Shit and slumps,” Sirius said, and Remus’ mouth went dry as he was lowering himself to his knees. “Shit and slumps are different.”

Remus let out a laugh. “Aren’t those the words to turn a guy on.”

Sirius just grinned and bit at his pants zipper. “I love you.”

“Better choice.”

Sirius carefully pulled Remus’ zipper down. “Can I? Here?”

Remus only reply was tugging Sirius’ hat free to get at his hair, the thick strands weaving between his fingers. He could already feel himself getting interested, pressing against the slip of his boxers by Sirius’ proximity alone.

“Sirius Black,” Remus sighed as Sirius nuzzled against him.  He stroked over his hair, overwhelmed with how much every part of Sirius meant to him. “I love you.”

Sirius took one of the hands Remus had in his hair by and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Remus let Sirius’ mouth fuzz his mind out, moaning softly at his hollowed out cheeks, laughing at the gentle nips to his hips and thighs. After, Sirius kissed him against the counter until both of their stomachs growled. Remus pressed his mouth against Sirius’ flushed hot cheek.

“I feel like a million bucks, thanks, baby.”

Sirius just smiled, tucking himself away.

It was true. Remus felt home. Settled. Almost as if he could forget the conversation today. Maybe even like he wanted to go down the the basement rink, just for fun, which he hadn’t felt like in a while.

“D’accord,” Remus sing-songed. “We have pasta or chicken or both.”

Sirius grinned. “Both.”

They were mostly quiet as they cooked, bumping hips, iPhone playing softly through their speakers. Remus watched the way Sirius kept his fingers carefully curled away from the knife, like Remus’ mom had taught him that summer. His tongue peaked out of the corner of his mouth, the same way it did when he was carrying a puck up the ice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sirius asked softly as Remus minced garlic.

Remus glanced over at him, then kept his eyes on his fingers, so close to the sharp blade. “Um. Coach says it’s not my fault. He says I’m playing well. It’s just…pointless.”

“C’est pas—”

“No, not like pointless, like, pointless. Like I’m not getting net.”

“Ah.”

They smiled at each other, Remus’ a little shakier.

“Yeah.”

I feel like I’m letting you down.

“I feel…” Remus began, and the words caught. “Um. I mean, it’ll get better. It has to.”

Sirius’ expression flickered, but he nodded. “Mhm.”

“Do you feel like a white sauce?” Remus asked, turning to the refrigerator. “Go well with the chicken.”

“Sure,” Sirius nodded. “Sounds perfect, mon loup.”

Remus took a long breath as he opened the refrigerator doors, maybe taking longer than necessary to find the half & half. He was angry at himself. He didn’t know why the words were sticking to the back of his throat. He didn’t want pity, he supposed. He didn’t want Sirius to feel like he had to comfort him. Remus closed his eyes.

He’d do better.

~

Leo and Finn had their shoulders pressed together, each with their own book in their hands, when Logan opened the apartment door.

“Got the cream,” Logan raised the shopping back, and Leo all but leapt from the cushions.

“Yeah you do,” Finn said without looking up.

“Thank you,” Leo slid on his socks in his rush to get to Logan. He pressed his palms to Logan’s cold cheeks, kissing him in a quick burst. “Thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Logan smiled as Leo scurried back into the kitchen to finish making his part of the the American Thanksgiving dinner Pascal was hosting.

“I can’t believe I ran out,” Leo said, stirring something on the stove.

“It’s fine, Le,” Logan said, shrugging out of his jacket and following him in. “Happy to get you whatever you need.”

Leo turned, a touched pout on his face, and Logan beat him to it this time with a slower kiss of his own. Leo tasted like the caramel he had had them all taste test earlier and Logan licked into his mouth eagerly.

“I love you, too,” Logan mumbled.

Leo’s expression softened in the way it always did when one of them said that. Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck.

“Want to peel sweet potatoes?” Leo asked with a hopeful grin, and Logan laughed.

“Sure, soleil.”

Finn gasped from the couch, eyes on his book, glasses on his nose. “They kissed. I fucking knew they would.”

Leo gasped, too. “No. Harzy, spoilers, you’re faster than me.”

Logan looked between them. “Are you guys reading the same book again, like, next to each other?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, but he was gripping the book like another secret might spill out. “And yes.”

Leo pressed a peeler into his hands with another kiss, this one fast and skittering across his cheekbone.

“I love both of you,” Logan sighed as he picked up the first potato. “You’re weird.”

Finn closed his book without marking his place and heaved himself up with a groan, cracking his back. He came to sit at the bar counter across from where Logan was peeling.

“Thanks for the help, Harz,” Logan said.

“I don’t like it when my hands smell like potato.”

Leo laughed. “Sweetheart, how’d you ever survive on your own?”

“Take out,” Finn and Logan answered at the same time.

“And catering,” Finn added. “I think the NHL is used to boys who can’t cook. Marlene just slid the caterer’s card into my hand without a word.”

Leo just shook his head. “She tried the same thing on me. Honey, please.”

Logan and Finn shared a smile, both turning to gaze at Leo’s back.

“How much time do we have?” Leo asked.

“Like, two hours, babe, you’re good,” Finn said.

“Do I have time to ravish you in your glasses?” Logan asked.

Finn raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, these old things? You want to wear them?”

Logan dropped his peeler and walked around the counter. He spun Finn to face him on the stool and Finn’s feet hooked around his calves, holding him there. “Non.”

Finn smiled, leaning forward to nip at Logan’s bottom lip and pull.

“Tremblay, potatoes.”

Logan groaned and Finn gave his butt a firm slap as he pulled away. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

~

“Uh, hey dad,” Cole cleared his throat. “It’s me. I just um. I’m in Pascal Dumais’ house. Can you believe that? Uh, I just wanted to say…you know, happy Thanksgiving, and all that. Maybe you can come out to a game soon? Yeah…let me know, I can get you tickets. Okay. Okay, see you. Merry—or happy Thanksgiving. Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Cole sighed as he put his phone down and looked around the Dumais’ sitting room. It was tidy, with food laid out every table, ready for guests. Cole, after that phone call, already felt tired.

There was a knock on the doorframe and he turned to see Layla, smiling at him hesitantly. She held out a glass of a deep colored wine. “I thought maybe you’d want some.”

“Oh, I can’t, uh…” Cole began.

Layla snorted. “Me neither, but…” she glanced around the tall-ceilinged living room. “Who’s gonna tell? Dumo? Please.”

Cole laughed a little and took the thin stem from her fingers. “Thank you.”

Layla nodded, bending for a cheese and cracker. “That sounded a little tough. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Cole pocketed his phone. “It’s not really. Well…maybe now it is. But I don’t think of him that way, of this that way. He’s a good father.”

He sounded defensive even to himself and sighed. “When he decides to be.”

“He hard on you?” Layla asked. She took a seat on the couch and Cole glanced around before settling on the ottoman of one of the fat leather chairs. “About all this?”

“Hockey?” Cole said, then laughed. “No. No way, he doesn’t give a shit about ice hockey. My mom got me into hockey. My dad still hopes I’ll be, like, I don’t know…I don’t know what.”

Layla frowned. “It’s not like you could’ve been a money-bags doctor and chose to paint watercolors instead?”

Cole cracked a smile. “Yeah…Yeah, he sort of skipped around a lot before I actually started getting good.”

“Oh,” Layla said softly.

The doorbell rang. And then rang again and again, like someone was jamming their finger into it repeatedly.

“Tremzy!” he heard Katie shriek a moment later.

Warm voices filled the hall.

Cole rose and, after a moment, offered Layla a hand. She smiled, letting him pull her up. “It’s not as sob-story as it sounds.”

“I get it,” Layla nodded. “My older sister skipped altogether when I was little. Still don’t know why. I know it’s not the same but…”

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

Layla just smiled, one of her bright ones, and wrapped her hand—gold rings and all—around his arm. “Come on. Shit’s about to get wild.”

“And delicious,” Cole said, turning towards the smells coming from the kitchen.

Layla laughed, and Cole wanted to hear that sound twenty more times.

[favefandomimagines]

With All Due Respect (e.b.)

Summary: Buck invites you to dinner with his parents as a buffer but things turns sour quickly

AN: happy vday!! enjoy a little fluff/angst with buck! xoxo

“I need you at this dinner tonight.” Buck announced as he entered your apartment. “I thought it was just you guys and Chim.” You replied. “Yes, but you’re my girlfriend, my best friend and I need you to be at this dinner tonight because it’s going to be bad.” He explained. 

You didn’t really want to insert yourself in Buckley family drama, especially when you’ve nothing but bad things about his parents. You’ve had your own issues with family, your brother having had a drug problem and your divorced parents. But, it was Buck and you knew if he was asking for help, it was serious. 

“Okay, I’ll be there. Only because it’s you.” You finally said. “And this is why I...I am happy you’re in my life.” Buck replied, before kissing your forehead. 

You noticed the stuttering and the long pause he had after ‘I.’ Neither have you had said the ‘L’ word yet, even if you had been dating for a year. Both of you had gotten out of messy relationships with people you thought you loved and you were both scared to say it. Mainly out of fear of suffering the same fate. 

You wanted to say it though. You felt it, that much was certain. But you didn’t know if he felt the same way. Or if he was even ready to say he loved you. 

Later that night, you stood in front of the closet mirror, glancing over your outfit. Both Buck and Maddie had warned you that their parents were...stuffy. And you wanted to look your best since you were dating their son. 

“No, this looks stupid.” You muttered, taking the shirt off and throwing it on your bed. “This is ugly, this is not cute, they’d probably hate this.” You commented on every shirt in your closet. 

“What are you doing?” Buck laughed. “I own no cute clothes. Nothing that’s going to impress your parents.” You answered. “Wear that one outfit. The one we wore on our second date.” He told you. “We went to an amusement park, Buck, I don’t think that’s classy enough for dinner with the parents.” You rebutted. 

“I don’t care. I love you in that outfit.” Buck said. You smiled up at him before grabbing the outfit he had recommended. “Amusement park outfit it is.” You commented. 

__

If you could turn back time and pray for a house fire so you wouldn’t have to attend dinner, you would. Sitting at the dinner table with Buck and his family was the definition of awkward. On top of that, the not so subtly jabs they made towards Buck and his career were starting to get on your nerves.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” Buck’s dad asked. “Um, I’m an EMT.” You answered. “I was on track for med school but being an EMT is more my speed.” You added. “Also, what happened to Abby, Evan?” Mrs. Buckley asked him. 

You clenched your jaw just out of sheer discomfort at first but it soon turned into annoyance. “Mom. You know what happened with Abby so please don’t bring it up. Especially in front of Y/N, that’s not fair.” Buck rebutted. 

“Y/N, choosing an EMT rather than med school is an interesting choice.” Mr. Buckley commented, quickly avoiding that subject matter.

“Well, my dad and my brother are both firefighters so I’ve been around them all my life. It just, felt like the right path.” You explained. “And your brother, is he married? I know being a firefighter can be a busy job.” Mrs. Buckley asked. “He’s not married but he’s dating a police officer in Austin. He’s a great guy for him.” You answered. 

“Oh, so your brother is..” Mrs. Buckley started. “Gay. My brother is gay.” You finished for her. 

You could see the look on their faces when you said your brother was gay and it was look you’d grown accustomed to when talking about him to ‘unaccepting’ people. Not exactly homophobic, but people who don’t really accept those who are gay and probably never will.

“I’m rather impressed you’re able to put up with Evan. He can be a handful.” Mr. Buckley said, again, changing the subject. “Um, I guess but aren’t we all handfuls?” You responded with a nervous laugh. 

Buck gripped your hand under the table and you could see that from his side profile, he was at his breaking point. 

“I think we’re going to head out. We have an early shift tomorrow.” He told you. 

He helped you up from your chair and as you walked towards the door, you turned around and looked at his parents. 

“With all due respect, Mr and Mrs Buckley, your son is the greatest man I’ve ever met. When I was a kid, my mother told me to find a man like my father. And I did, in your son. Now, I don’t know what it is that seems to upset you about him but that clearly means you don’t know him anymore. Because if you did, you’d be incredibly proud of him,” You started. 

“He’s brave, kind, honorable and I am incredibly lucky to have him in my life. I love your son and I try like hell every day to make up for the love you didn’t give him.” You finished. 

The room fell silent as you made your way out of the apartment. You couldn’t believe you just outed your feelings to Buck, in front of not just him, but his parents and Chimney. 

The car ride back to your place was a silent one. Buck was just trying to wrap his head around what you said. He never knew you thought so highly of him and that you actually loved him. 

He figured you did but what happened in his past always made him doubt your feelings. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said anything or tried to stick up for you. You’re more than capable of doing that on your own. Your parents probably hate me.” You explained. 

“I couldn’t care less about what my parents think. And I’m glad you said it. I don’t know, maybe hearing it from an outside perspective will knock some sense into them.” Buck replied. 

But he never said that he loved you back, which had you fearing the worst. “And I’m sorry for saying the L word. I know you’re not ready to hear it and I didn’t know I was ready to say it until I just said it. You don’t have to say it back, I understand-” Your ranting was cut off by Buck grabbing your hand gently. 

“I do love you. Hearing what you said made me realize how much I do love you. Because you didn’t have to defend me but you did. Because you love me and I don’t think that’s something Abby could ever do. Not like you.” He said. 

“Really?” You questioned. “Of course. I’ve screwed up a lot of things in my life but I can’t have us being one of them. Me taking so long to say I love you when I felt it almost did that.” He explained. 

You squeezed his hand as a sign that he shouldn’t worry. “So, since you love me, does that mean I can convince you to watch Bring It On with me?” You asked mischievously. 

“All you had to do was ask.” Buck laughed. You laughed in response and the sound was like music to Buck’s ears. 

Your laugh was always his favorite thing but now it just felt different. Being with you felt different. All because now your relationship was now solidified with just three words that were long overdue. 

[nerd-at-sea5]

i just wanted to take you on a date

i watched heartstopper 6x and have decided that i should write angst.

tara meets darcy’s parents because she tries to sneak into darcy’s room to take them on a date, and then there’s crying. elle can read situations better than anyone :)

(disclaimer: i am very american. these characters are very british. i apologize in advance)

they/them darcy everyone else canon

i guess this takes place after events of s1 of the show, but characters from the book (aled, oliver) are in it (mentioned) and also it would take place in vol 1 but it doesn't so i don’t really know when this is......yeah :) also also. i’m used to writing angst from the perspective of the person dealing w it (in this darcy) but instead i’m writing from tara’s view, so if it’s different..not sorry but yeah that’s why :)

cw-verbal abuse, homophobic slurs, mention of physical abuse

tara was smart.

that’s what she kept repeating over and over in her head as she hoisted herself up on the brick wall below darcy’s window and grabbed a stick to tap at it. she’s smart. she’s not going to fall. this isn’t stupid. it’s fine, just because darcy’s never invited her over or let her meet their parents doesn't mean anything. it’s fine.

three seconds later, a bleach blonde head pops out of the window, confusion, joy, panic, fright.

“tara what the fuck are you doing here!?”

she feels the smile slide off her face, the flower gripped tightly in her hand sink to the floor, “i just wanted to surprise you...”

darcy looks behind her, anxiety written all over their tapping hands and teeth biting down on their lips, “no one’s home.”

“do you want me to go home? i can call nick to drive me....”

“no, no no no-i. uh. come in?”

they extended a hand and pulled tara into their bedroom, she lay on her back for a second-staring up at a giant ‘nirvana’ poster. looking around darcy’s room-posters and drawing everywhere, an over flowing bookshelf and way to many nick-knacks, a record player was playing ‘ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars’ in the corner, and darcy was standing in front of tara, wringing their hand’s anxiously while she looked around.

she smiled and gently took darcy’s hands into her own, not knowing how else to help, “it looks like you, darcy.”

they broke into a nervous smile, eyes still flicking to the window every few seconds, and tara was beginning to get more and more confused.

“what’s going on?”

“hm? oh-nothing. wanna see a photo of me from when i was six? i loo-”

“darcy....” she kept her voice light, trying to ignore the frantic way darcy’s eyes widened when they realized tara knew exactly what they we’re doing. “you know you can talk to me, right?”

she reached out to intertwine their hands again while darcy sat down on their bed, “it’s fine, jonesy, don’t worry about me.”

“i always do, darce.”

they sighed, and glanced back at the window, eyes widening as they shot to their feet leaving tara confused and a little hurt, “darcy what the hell is-”

“get out.”

tara froze, staring at her girlfriend in shock because that voice did not belong to darcy. that voice sounded like someone else-someone terrified, barley holding themself together-either much younger or much older. and it scared the shit out of tara.

“w-what?”

darcy spun around, grabbing tara’s hand, “i said get out. get out right now.”

“no, darcy why are you-”

“TARA GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE, PLEASE!”

with a start, tara saw the tears rolling down darcy’s face, confusion and anger trying to win over each other in her stomach, silently backing up to the window and lowering herself onto the ledge.

she watched darcy retreat, but didn’t move, her phone, open to nick’s texts, she could text him. just text and ask to pick her up-take her to charlie’s. tori was smart, tori was good at advice. maybe she could help? maybe charlie or nick-even aled? issac? someone, anyone-tara stood still with her mind running over itself.

what happened to darcy?

the fear, the yelling, all of it-it wasn't them. what happened? what went wrong? what did tara do?

tara turned on the ledge and heard a door slam open, a new voice-an older mans, “are you listening to that fag again?”

“d-dad c’mon it’s just music....” darcy.

tara leaned closer, the way darcy’s voice shook with fear made her feel sick.

“i don’t give a shit. and stop dressing like that, your not a fucking boy so stop trying to be one.”

tara almost dropped her phone.

“ok, cool. can i go back to reading now?”

their words were quick, almost overlapping each other-and tara heard an exasperated sigh. “why don’t you do something useful? like study? your already failing math-”

“a d isn’t failing per say-”

“darcy olsson.”

“sorry, sorry, sorry-i’m sorry. i’m sorry-i’m sorry.”

“sorry isn’t fucking good enough-you should be sorry that i’m stuck with dealing with a spastic, sarcastic, dyke.”

that time, tara really did drop her phone, letting it hit the ground with a crack, and quickly jumped off the ledge and into the sidewalk, crouching next to her phone and hoping beyond hope that if either of them looked out the window they’d think tara had been walking by and just dropped her phone.

the sound of a window slamming and then muffled yelling jolted tara back to reality.

she sat silently next to nick the entire car ride back to her house, and looked up at him with surprise when he got out of his car.

“c’mere, ‘girl i kissed once’.” and wrapped her in a hug, “i don’t know what happened but it’ll be ok..”

tara choked back a sob, darcy’s broken tone ringing in her ears ‘i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”

--- time jump, lunch the next day ---

elle sighed, “ok. what is going on with you two? you’ve barley said a word the entire lunch, darcy-you aren’t even eating. and tara, you haven’t tried to tease me about tao, or them about not doing their work-so either i’m in another damn dimension or something is up.”

for the first time that day, tara made eye contact with darcy, who quickly avoided her gaze.

“nothing, late night. tara was up on facetime helping me with maths, must have over used up our voice boxes!” darcy’s voice was cheerful, a sharp contrast to what tara heard two days before.

all she could do was nod slowly and wish that she could change something.

walking to the last class of the day, tara sighed to herself, knowing she was either about to make a really good or really bad decision.

she stood in the hallway, pretending to get something out of her bag in front of the music room, and when she sees darcy pass, grabbed their wrist, pulled them into the room, and let the door lock them in behind her.

for a split second, it looked like darcy was about to smile and make a joke about how if tara wanted to kiss them that badly she could just say, or about how their super screwed for missing science.

instead, and what broke tara’s heart a little more-was darcy slowly sliding to the floor, tucking their knees to their chest and shaking with silent sobs when their head dropped onto their legs. “i’m so sorry.”

instantly she dropped her bag, put an arm around darcy, holding them as tight as she possibly could, trying to communicate everything through the hug.

“it’s ok, it’s ok.” tara stayed still, whispering to darcy over and over, gently kissing the top of their head and wiping away tears with her thumb.

she doesn’t know how long they sit there, when darcy stops shaking and lays their head on tara’s shoulder. “i’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“it’s ok...are you ok?”

darcy nodded slowly, and tara took their hand in their free one, “was it a one-time thing or.....” she trailed off when darcy shook their head.

“every day.”

shit.

tara swallowed and forced the next words out of her mouth-no matter how little she wanted to say them. “are they. um...like, hit-hitting you?”

darcy was silent for the count of three, and then shook their head. “no. promise.”

before tara could respond, darcy closed their eyes, shifting closer to her, “why were you at my window?”

“i...i just wanted to take you on a date.”

she saw the corners of darcy’s mouth flick up for a second before falling back, and rested her head on theirs, “stay over?”

darcy nodded into tara’s shirt. “thank you.”

[odos-bucket]

In Which Each of Bruce’s Kids Come Out to Him

and then he comes out to them

Dick

They’re working on opposite sides of the coffee table in one of the manor’s more habitable sitting room’s. It’s become a regular part of their weekday routine: Bruce finishes up whatever office work he has to do, while Dick does his homework, and talks about his day. Usually there are snacks involved. A parenting book Bruce had read recommended trying to get their work done together. It’s a good way to keep connected with their increasingly busy schedules.

“So anyways…” Dick’s story is starting to slow down a little bit, and the shift in tone has Bruce glancing up from his paperwork. “I should probably tell you, since, well, everyone knows at school now.” His voice is still conversational, and relaxed, but a little distracted.

Bruce shifts him his full attention.

“See, what happened was Cameron Josephs in my third period biology class came to school with nail polish on today, which I noticed with my clever detective skills, and promptly dismissed as unimportant, and everyone else noticed with their nosy pre-teen skills, and promptly lost their shi- I mean, minds over. And that was Mrs. Horton’s class, and she has absolutely no control over her students, so it sort of became this whole big thing. Kids were making fun of him, and other kids were yelling at them to knock it off, and he was just trying to do his work, but the rest of the class got into a big fight. And then Brad Cormick- he’s on my basketball team- made a homophobic joke, and we were sitting at the same table, and I could tell that he wanted me to laugh at it. So I told him to shut up, and said that I was bisexual, not that any of it really had anything to do with anything else that was going on, but it did get him to shut up, which was good. Except that I think it may have been because I have more friends than Cameron does, which is totally unfair, and everyone should just be nice to everyone else no matter what, but also I guess not really the point… The point is, yeah, I’m bi. Oh, also frog dissection got moved to tomorrow because one kid threw up.”

Dick takes a deep breath (finally) and a long sip of his juice, before immediately returning to doodling athletic stick figures in the margins of his algebra homework.

Bruce studies him for a moment, trying to figure out what kind of response is expected of him, what would be helpful for Dick to hear. He’s really not very good at this kind of thing.

He’s saved from the risk of putting his foot in his mouth when the science class story continues.

“Are frogs really that gross? I don’t think they are. But I guess our basement is filled with guano, so maybe my tolerance is heightened by regular exposure to the substance most frequently equated with insanity.”

Dick hadn’t seemed nervous before coming out, or relieved after. And if he’s not going to make it into a big deal then neither is Bruce, even if a part of him feels pleasantly warmed by the casual show of trust.

Jason

Bruce loves picking up his kids from school. It’s not something that his schedule allows him to do very often, and Jason- as Dick had been before him- always seems pleasantly surprised to see him. It’s a little thing in the grand scheme, but it’s just nice, normal. And he would never say it out loud- he’s not sure why, he knows he should- but he cherishes the little bit of extra time spent with his boys.

But today Jason isn’t happy to see him.

Bruce pulls up to the curb, and only has to scan the crowd of teenagers for a few seconds before spotting him. He’s on a bench with another student, their shoulders pressed together despite wide swaths of free space available on either side of them. Jason’s pointing out something in a textbook, while the other boy plays with his free hand.

Bruce pulls slightly to the side to let another car drive around him, figuring he’ll give Jason a few minutes to finish up, and notice that Bruce is there, rather than call out and risk embarrassing him.

It’s not even a full minute before they make eye contact across the lot, and immediately something in Jason’s expression changes. His eyes go wide and startled, his posture suddenly tightened. In one fast motion he shuts his book with both hands, muttering something to his friend as he practically throws himself off the bench.

Now feeling on high alert, Bruce sweeps an intense gaze over the school yard for anything that could have upset his son. He doesn’t manage to spot anything before Jason arrives at the car and pulls himself into the backseat (where he never sits, unless the front is already occupied). He starts talking before Bruce can ask what’s wrong.

“That wasn’t what it looked like!”

Bruce frowns, and looks over both Jason and the area in front of the school in an attempt to identify something that isn’t like how it looks.

“He just-“ Jason flinches, seemingly realizing something wrong with whatever he’d been about to say, and cuts himself off with a sharp breath. “I mean-“

Feeling lost is by no means a new part of parenthood for Bruce, and he’s sure it’s something he’ll experience many more times going forward. But, god, he really hates not understanding what’s going on, not knowing what to do, and he doubts that he’ll ever get used to it.

“Jason,” he tries. “Slow down.”

“Yes, sir,” Jason answers automatically. “Sorry.”

It’s been over a year since Jason’s called him ‘sir’ and the sudden reintroduction of the honorific sends a cold chill down Bruce’s spine. For a second they just stare at each other, with what Bruce is pretty sure are matching expressions of partially concealed horror.

“Jason,” he says more quietly.

“I know,” Jason interrupts. “I’m sorry. Please-“ He stops himself, covering his mouth before he can finish the thought, and then just as quickly lowering the hand back to his lap.

Another silence follows, short but harrowing. Then finally Bruce makes a rare admission

“I have no idea what’s happening right now.”

Jason stares at him, and the wider his eyes get the younger he looks, and the more Bruce wants to scoop him up into his arms. But he just waits, and tries not to look too expectant.

“I-I was holding hands with Derek,” Jason breaths out.

“…Alright?” He’s heard that name before. Jason doesn’t have as many friends at school as Dick had, so they’re a little easier to keep track of, even if Bruce has only ever met any of them in passing. “Is this someone you’re worried I’ll embarrass you in front of?” He asks after a brief pause.

Jason keeps staring at him, expression crinkling as his breathing grows erratic.

Bruce finds himself automatically exaggerating his own inhales and exhales, resting the side of one hand against his sternum, to remind Jason of some of their breathing exercises.

“That’s it, chum,” he says as he sees it slowly begin to work. “Everything’s okay.” For all he knows- or doesn’t know- right now it might not even be true, but dammit for his kid he will make everything okay.

“Everything’s okay,” Jason obediently echoes.

Bruce takes his hand off his chest, and starts to reach towards him. But Jason flinches away from him, not as violently as he had back when they were still new to each others’ lives, but it’s enough to make Bruce feel sick. He can practically feel the wrongness of it squeezing his heart into shards as he slowly withdraws his arm back into the front seat. He had truly thought that they had gotten past this.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” he says softly, a small concession to the part of himself that wants to beg his son’s forgiveness for whatever he’s done to make him afraid. “I’m so sorry.”

Jason’s not looking at him anymore. His head is down, and his gaze is fixed on his knees.

Bruce hesitates.

“I’ll never hurt you.” It’s a reassurance he had thought they were past the point of needing, but if they aren’t he’ll say it as many times as he has to. “Never.”

“Are you mad?”

“Is there something particular that I’m supposed to be mad about?” Bruce asks carefully.

“... That I was holding hands with a guy,” Jason elaborates, after a steadying breath.

Oh, Bruce is an idiot. What kind of detective is he if he can’t even- He cuts himself off, realizing he can’t wait too long to respond to that.

“Of course not. That’s what this is about?”

“I never meant for you to find out,” is the response he gets. And doesn’t that just hurt like hell to hear?

“That you like boys?” Bruce confirms.

“And girls, both. But I didn’t know what you’d think, so I figured if I couldn’t be sure it was better to keep it to myself.”

Bruce closes his eyes, taking a second to calm his own breathing.

“I never want you to feel like that,” he says. “About anything. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear. I love you, Jaylad, that isn’t contingent on anything.”

I wish I could have protected you from whatever it was that made you feel like this was something you had to hide. He doesn’t say it.

Jason is finally looking at him again, gaze thoughtful and careful. A long moment passes, before he surprises- and momentarily terrifies- Bruce by getting out of the car. But before he can react to that, Jason’s climbing into the passenger seat, and after a second of hesitation, leaning into Bruce’s side.

“Okay,” he says quietly, sounding a little choked up.

Bruce puts an arm around his shoulders. The closeness is a balm after the pain of having his son flinch away from him.

Tim

Tim isn’t supposed to come over today. His parents are in town, and Bruce had made a point of hiding his reluctance when he’d given Robin the week off, chastising himself for the empty nest syndrome he has no right to be experiencing- at least in regards to this particular child.

So he’s surprised when he hears Alfred’s throat clear, and looks up to see both Alfred and Tim lingering in the doorway to his office. It would be odd to see him here at this time of day even if they had been planning to go on patrol; sunset is still a few hours off.

Bruce immediately has a bad feeling. He knows it’s commonplace for the Drakes to disappear unexpectedly partway through whatever length of time they were meant to be spending at home. As Batman it’s made his life easier numerous times. As a parent it’s beyond his comprehension. If he still had his boys at home- but he can’t think about that, not without breaking down, and if Tim’s just been abandoned that’s the last thing he needs.

As he approaches the door, Alfred’s pointed look, and Tim’s vacant expression confirm that he’s right to be concerned.

“Tim.” He keeps his voice neutral. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

He picks up on Alfred’s glare a fraction of a second too late to realize that he’s said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry.” There’s something miserable in Tim’s voice, that makes Bruce want to bundle him up in a blanket. Before he can assure him that he has nothing to apologize for, Alfred cuts in.

“I told Master Tim that he’s welcome to stay with us for as long as he needs.”

Bruce nods automatically, looking down at Tim, who’s glassy expression looks a million miles away.

“Tim,” he says gently, eventually drawing the boy’s gaze, but feeling disconcerted by how delayed the response is.

Alfred leaves with a comment about putting a kettle on for tea, closing the door firmly but softly behind him. The sound it makes as it pulls all the way shut still makes Tim twitch.

“Do you want to sit down?” Bruce offers.

Tim stumbles a bit on his way to the couch. He’s so out of it; He won’t be patrolling tonight, even if his schedule’s suddenly open for it. Bruce sits down on the other side.

“Are they gone again?” He asks, trusting fully that the vaguely worded question will be completely understood.

There’s a worrying delay before Tim shakes his head, giving Bruce ample time to wish for Alfred back before he can register the response enough to be surprised by it.

“So...“ he begins uncertainly, before being cut off.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says again. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”

“You aren’t a bother, Tim.”

The- admittedly somewhat monotone- assurance just gets him a shrug.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He tries.

“Do I have to?” Tim asks after a long silence. “Can’t I just stay here?”

Bruce frowns.

“Of course you can stay here. But I think I really need to know what’s going on.”

Tim stares at him, eyes shining, mouth opening and closing several times before he speaks.

“Can I- Alfred says I can tell you something, and you won’t get mad?”

“Well, that depends on what it is,” Bruce says, thinking back on every time a robin has had something to tell him, but first wanted confirmation that he wouldn’t be angry.

Tim seems to shrink at his words, his breath catching audibly as he curls in on himself. Fuck, Bruce is bad at this.

“What do you have to tell me?” He asks.

“Well now I don’t know if I want to!” It almost comes out as a yell, strained by the sound of held back tears, and Bruce is a little taken aback.

“I’ll probably find out at some point,” he reasons.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Tim chokes on something that sounds like a suppressed sob.

No, no, no no. This isn’t supposed to happen. Bruce reaches out for him in an awkward and hastily aborted movement.

“I can’t,” Tim says after a minutes, tears streaking over his pale cheeks. “If you don’t-“ His voice catches. “I need you to let me stay here.”

Bruce’s heart hurts as he scooches a little closer, reaching out to rest a hand- hopefully not too awkwardly- on Tim’s shoulder.

“Of course you can stay here,” he reiterates. “I told you you could stay here. Even if I’m mad at you you can stay here. If you-“ He searches for a moment. “-Took the batmobile out on a joyride, and drove it into the harbor, I’ll be mad at you, but you’ll still have a place here. One will never have anything to do with the other.”

Tim makes a noise that’s over too quickly for Bruce to be able to tell if it had been a laugh, or just more crying.

“Did Jason do that?” He asks in a hoarse voice.

“Dick,” Bruce corrects.

This time Tim definitely snorts, which has Bruce smiling in spite of himself.

“Did you do something worse than that?” He asks.

It’s meant to be a joke, but Tim makes an unhappy face at the question.

“I- no!” He says, defensive, but confident. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Bruce gives his shoulder a squeeze before releasing it.

“Then why would I be mad at you?”

The humor that had begun to make its way into Tim’s expression disappears again, and Bruce curses himself.

“Mom and Dad were mad,” he says quietly.

Bruce scowls. He tries pretty hard not to let his dislike of Jack and Janet show around Tim- though he’s long suspected the young detective can tell- but it’s harder to hide sometimes than others.

“You said they were still home,” he remembers. “Tim, did they kick you out?” He does his best to keep the anger out of his voice.

And then he finds himself doing his best to keep the anger off of his face when it takes Tim a moment to answer the question.

“I don’t think forever,” he says uncertainly. “Just- They said they needed time to think about it, to d-decide what to do.”

The slight stutter puts him over the age, and fury starts to trickle into Bruce’s voice.

“To think about what?” He demands. Hell, that place is more Tim’s home than it is theirs. They have absolutely no right to ask him to leave! And where the hell do they expect him to go? Bruce forces himself to clench his jaw, and take deep breaths.

“...I’m gay,” Tim finally says.

Bruce stares at him for the second that it takes for the words to register, and connect back to the rest of the conversation.

“That’s it?”

He’s wincing at himself before the question is all the way out of his mouth, immediately convinced that he’s said the wrong thing again. But then, to his immense relief, he realizes that Tim has started laughing. It isn’t deep, or sustained. His voice is still a little weak, and his eyes are still a little red. But he’s definitely laughing, and Bruce realizes vaguely that a robin laughing is still his favorite sound in the world.

“That’s it,” Tim confirms, on the tail end of his laugh.

“Oh, Tim.”

Bruce doesn’t give himself a chance to second guess the motion before he pulls the boy into a hug, satisfied that it was the right course of action when he feels Tim melt against him.

“Of course I’m not mad, of course I’m not mad,” he repeats like a mantra. “I’m sorry I let you think I would be. You’re right, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

A few seconds pass, and he realizes there’s a wet patch at his shoulder where Tim’s face is buried. Bruce freezes, totally unsure of what he’s done wrong this time.

“I’m sorry,” Tim breaths out. “I- thank you. Thank you! I don’t know what I would have done if- I- I don’t want to be alone!”

“Not alone,” Bruce promises. “You’re not alone. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Tim presses closer, and Bruce takes it as a cue to tighten his hold.

Alfred finds them like that a few minutes later, Tim curled up in his arms, while Bruce cycles through reassurances. The look they exchange is enough to confirm that they’re both thinking the same thing: this kid is ours.

Cass

One day Cass hangs a little pride flag up on her door. Later in the week when she catches Bruce glancing at it, she comes up to him, gives the flag a meaningful nod, before just saying, “Girls!” in a happy voice, giving him a hug, and disappearing down the hall.

Damian

Bruce can identify every member of his family by their knock, but Damian’s is particularly distinctive. Not just because it tends to come from a lower part of the door, but because Damian has cultivated a strong knock, the way businessmen cultivate a strong handshake. It’s a very confident and determined sound, that he often finds himself stifling a smile at, knowing that that isn’t at all the intended reaction.

“Come in,” he calls, and there’s no pause before Damian strides into his office, confident as ever. When he speaks however, the undercurrents of his voice tell a different story.

“Father, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” There are a few hesitations, that don’t quite manage to turn into stutters in his voice, ones it’s unlikely anyone outside of their family would notice.

Bruce doesn’t comment on them, just nods for Damian to sit down and continue.

His legs don’t fully reach the floor. Something else that Bruce has learned not to let himself smile at.

“Grayson says…” he begins confidently, before trailing off.

Bruce just raises an eyebrow for him to continue, not feeling like he has enough information to put anything together from at the moment.

“Richard says,” Damian continues more carefully. “He came out to you as bisexual when he was around my age?”

Bruce nods. He has a feeling that he knows where this is going this time.

“He did.”

“He said that you were okay with it?”

Bruce nods again.

“Dick is my son. My love for him isn’t conditional, certainly not on that. There’s nothing wrong with not being straight.”

Damian had broached the topic using Dick as a proxy, so Bruce had followed his lead and assumed that Damian would know to automatically apply the assurance to himself. But Damian’s face just falls into a puzzled frown.

“So why…” he begins, before changing track. “Richard isn’t your biological son.”

Bruce frowns back.

“Damian, you know that doesn’t make a difference to me. I don’t love your siblings any less because they’re not-”

“I know,” Damian cuts in. “It isn’t about loving us differently.” He says it very matter of factly. “I have the ability to carry on your bloodline, whereas they do not.”

“That ability isn’t an obligation,” Bruce says, wondering why his kids never seem to be able to just worry about normal things. “And it’s certainly not something that you need to be thinking about at thirteen years old.”

Damian nods slowly, staring down at the desk with a look of intense concentration, before slowly raising his gaze to Bruce.

“Mother and Grandfather said that you wouldn’t like it, if I wasn’t interested in girls,” he says quietly.

Bruce sighs. of-fucking-course they did. He gets up from his chair, and moves around the desk to kneel in front of Damian.

“Well they’re wrong,” he says simply. “And they had no right to lead you to believe that it would make any difference to me. Just like I don’t love your siblings any less, my love for you is no more conditional. Understand?”

It takes a moment, but Damian nods.

“All right. In which case, I suppose... I’m gay.”

“And I’m proud of you,” Bruce says, before pulling his son into a hug.

Bruce

Bruce looks at his assembled family, and begins to feel a strange sense of trepidation tickling at the edge of his consciousness.

They’re all here. Trying to get the whole family together all at once is like pulling teeth. But he told them it was important, and they all came. There have been plenty of points over the course of the years when that wouldn’t have happened. And even though they’ve all been pretty settled with each other for a while now, he never wants to take for granted having his whole family together- not that he thinks the part of him that only seems to settle when he has all of his children within arm’s reach would let him.

The comfort of having them all be together is overwhelming, but the trepidation is still there, just like it probably always will be any time he manages to round up the courage for anything resembling feelings talk.

They’re all in one of the living rooms, sprawled in a comfortable half circle across various couches and chairs.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all,” Bruce starts to say.

“Are you dying?” Stephanie asks casually.

Beside her, Cass freezes, looking horrified.

“I’m not dying,” Bruce says quickly.

At the same time Steph rubs a hand up and down Cass’s arm and assures her she was kidding.

“Not like he’d tell us if he was,” Dick says.

He knows it’s meant to be a joke, just like Stephanie’s question had been, but it still sends a chill through him. Mostly because he can’t say for sure that Dick is totally wrong; it’s the kind of thing he easily could have kept to himself. But then he sees the uncertain frown that Damian is giving him, and Cass’s wide, anxious eyes, and decides that he has to be wrong.

“I’m not dying,” he repeats, reaching out for Tim who’s sitting closest to him, and who’s been staring very intently at the floor since the topic came up.

Tim leans into the touch without shifting his position.

“And I would tell you,” he adds seriously, feeling absolutely wracked with guilt over the fact that up until this moment he doesn’t know if he would’ve been able to claim that with any certainty.

“I swear, if there’s anything wrong with me, all of you will know as soon as possible.” By the time it comes out of his mouth, he knows he means it with total certainty.

“I think we’re all pretty tuned into the fact that there’s something wrong with you,” Jason offers, and the tension in the room breaks.

Bruce smiles despite himself. That was agonizing. Compared to that getting on with the conversation he’d previously been so apprehensive to have will be a relief.

“What did you want to tell us?” Duke asks.

“It can be… difficult for me to articulate what it means to me whenever one of you trusts me enough to share something about yourself. I thought that I owed it to all of you to return the favor, and share a… recent discovery of mine.” He stumbles through it as awkwardly as he’d expected to.

“This is weird,” Stephanie stage whispers.

“I’m bisexual,” Bruce admits.

“Bruce!” Dick says excitedly.

“Unacceptable,” Jason cuts in. “We already have enough of that nonsense in this house!”

Tim kicks him in the side.

“Well, seeing as it’s an option, I for one prefer the idea of you pursuing romantic entanglements that bear no risk of resulting in pregnancy.”

“Noted, Damian.”

“I’m happy for you, B,” Tim says. “It can be hard figuring yourself out.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

“Is that it?” Duke asks. “I mean, not that it’s not a big deal- and I’m happy for you too by the way- it’s just that most of our family meetings involve addressing some kind of crisis.”

“That’s it,” Bruce admits.

“Perhaps- seeing as we’re all here anyways- we could take this opportunity to have dinner together as a family for once,” Alfred offers.

[niuxita21]

No one asked for this but I’m still gonna word-vomit my feelings on the finale because if I don’t process them I’m gonna explode (don’t worry it’s not a rant or anything, I just have a lot of Thoughts).

OK so my main concern regarding this as the backbone of the season 3 storyline is that, for it to play out in a way that I will actually enjoy, the ONLY option is to have it be so that they eventually realize that they are enjoying their little charade a bit too much and find themselves wishing it were real and THAT is one of the big revelations/twists of the season. Otherwise, it would just feel too much like they’re cheapening the relationship, which is weird considering that this is a ship that THEY created, that has fans because THEY said "Here, ship this, and no, you are not delusional, it's real." And the thing is that, if they were a straight couple, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that THAT is where they were headed, but I’ve been burned too many times by shows with f/f ships not to be a little apprehensive. I'm also not super thrilled with the whole "using the gay flag in vain," as Ana's lawyer put it, which is why the only way for me to be comfortable with this storyline is for them to think they are doing this purely as a means to an end only to realize they don't actually want it to be JUST a pretend situation anymore. So, as you can see, there are a lot of caveats in order for this storyline to be enjoyable for me, lol, there's so much at stake here I'm so stressed!!!!

And yet, weirdly, there’s also a part of me that’s glad they didn’t actually go there with them for real just yet? IDK it’s just... if they had, I would be really stressed out right now (what else is new lmao) fearing that the execution of an actual relationship between Ana and Mariana could fall short of what it could be. But now, whatever they do, it’s gonna be fake anyway, so there’s less pressure! LOL. And also, yeah, I’m one of those crazies who actually LIKE a good, drawn-out slow burn and sometimes find it more compelling than the actual relationship bits of a ship, so I don’t mind waiting a bit longer for the payoff (PROVIDED that the payoff does actually come, that’s the thing. Hence my anxiety). And also like... The show is gonna give me FAKE DATING???? Only THE most god-tier trope that is impossible to find in an f/f context??? How did I get so lucky???? So yeah, in spite of myself, there is a lot to be excited about for next season. And, as someone somewhere pointed out, it was Juan Carlos and Pablo the ones who wanted to use the “weird situation between Ana and Mariana” against them in an explicitly homophobic manner, so if Ana and Mariana want to fight back against such a ridiculous ploy to fight them for their kids, I’d say they’re entitled.

And there are a few tidbits that I did find reassuring: 1) Once again, THE FUCKING SONG that played over the kiss/announcement I mean??? All about how “you can try to fight it but you’ll eventually realize I am the one for you” and “when [love I guess?] hits you, it happens even if you try to get away” and basically being a Mexican version of Shania Twain’s “I’m Gonna Getcha Good” and I AM GOING INSANE like you wouldn’t score a pretend kissing scene that way if you didn’t want the audience’s takeaway to be that there’s something more than just pretend there, right? RIGHT??? 2) The fact that Ludwika and Paulina are posting Ana/Mariana manips and pictures of the infamous necklaces with romantic lyrics, etc., which speaks to there being a more serious undercurrent to this situation than just “LOL fake gay dating to stick it to our baby daddies who are being insufferable about custody battles.”

And while I’m overanalyzing, I’m very intrigued by Mariana’s uneasiness after Ana asks if she’s ready for the annoucement and before Mariana confirms that she is. I mean it can probably be explained away most obviously by Mariana not wanting her newfound “arrangement” with Ana to mess up her budding relationship with Ferrán (which is a valid point). But IDK I kinda want to think that there’s something deeper there that has more to do with Mariana being worried about all this bringing back all her feelings for Ana that she thought she was over, especially considering that, as far as she knows, Ana doesn’t feel the same way. So, in Mariana’s head, it would be like a Faking It-type situation where she’s having to fake a relationship with someone to whom the charade is just a means to an end, whereas for Mariana the feelings are very much real. This would be a much more interesting path to take so I hope there’s some of that in the subtext of Mariana’s actions next season.

So, all in all, this season played out pretty much exactly how I expected/hoped it would. I fully expected the show to take its time to bring Ana and Mariana back together just in a friendly capacity because that’s Storytelling 101, and I didn’t expect anything romantic to happen between them until at least the penultimate episode (that’s Telenovela 101). What I failed to foresee, lol, was that ending and the fact that the show wouldn’t go there with them just yet. I actually reasonably expected them to get them together for real in the season finale (I spoiled myself with a YT fanvid thumbnail of the kiss, so I thought it was for real and, by the time I’d watched the second-to-last episode, I figured it would be the final scene) and then season 3 would finally deal with them trying to navigate a relationship. Silly me! But by now, after a LOT of sleeping on it, I actually think this is a way better option?? Lots more potential for fun hijinks, which is the show’s trademark, plus maybe some romantic/UST moments between them as they’re trying to keep up the charade. I don’t actually mind that they won’t be in a relationship for real yet because this whole setup is enough for me (once again, PROVIDED that there’s real subtext there). Is it December (?) yet????

[lochnessies]

ok here’s a dissection of a post an anon sent me the link to and bc i have the worst time management possible and i completely forgot i had it lol so sorry anon here you go ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I am constantly thinking about how Edelgard just doesn’t seem designed to appeal to cishet men.

i hate to be the one to break this news to you op but just because a character doesn’t show skin like charlotte fire emblem doesn’t mean she isn’t designed to pander to men. she’s very much designed to pander to the (majority straight male) player base with her ‘uwu i only trust you professor omg did u see that rat? pls don’t look at my painting of you uwu’.

then there’s the whole edelgard c support in japanese where byleth makes reference to having come to her room for ‘yobi’ which is

there’s also the scene where byleth can make an unsolicited comment about edelgard’s breast size. which is… uhh… gross.

edelgard also has cipher cards that go from slightly fanserviceie to full on suggestive

and also her breast armor that my sister relentlessly mocked lol

and here’s a chart from the 3h subreddit about gender/sexually in regards to edelgard and edeleth. it’s extremely straight male. op might have just overlooked this since they probably don’t go on reddit and stay on tumblr (which unlike reddit is mostly female and has a high lgbt demographic).

Like the joke is that Bleagles is the Gay House, but everything about her feels deliberately non-hetero.

i don’t like where this is going…

She’s dressed in sharp outfits covering her upper body, with proportions that don’t seem exaggerated.

so women who cover up must be lgbt because straight women are naturally more revealing? oh y i k e s

Her poise and the way she effortlessly flourishes her axe exhibits an air of coolness. While titties out =/= character of no substance, Edelgard being dressed more modestly suggests that she wasn’t designed with male-centred fanservice in mind.

“titties don’t equal no substance but here’s my post on how she has more substance because she doesn’t show titties” ok

And she still looks absolutely stunning in her more modest attire (like seriously, I haven’t felt the need to return to cosplay in years but I want to do her academy look so bad). 

yes she does. amazing design 10/10. i have a feeling this is the only part i’m going to agree with

Edelgard is intense. She does not mince her words and she is constantly evaluating you. Though she tries, she has a difficult time understanding her peers initially. Early on, she talks about how she would sacrifice herself and others in the name of some greater good. She is terrible at communicating with her peers. She has to be seen as infallible. Her heart has been hardened for years and she assumes she has to stay that way. She also assumes everyone mourns the same way she does - which is why she (kind of insensitively) insists you move on when Jeralt dies. Because to her, grief has to be channeled towards action, or else you’ll get lost in it. This attitude is demonstrated time and time again as she presses on. It can make her come off as cold and unfeeling - but look closer, and she’s anything but.

don’t really have anything to say at this part. it is pretty on the nose though i would slightly disagree with that last sentence a bit. i wouldn’t say she’s as i feeling as hubert is but all of her talks of the war boil down to how she feels and never her victims.

Her story is ultimately about her realizing that to achieve her goals, she needs to let people in and allow herself to want things like cakes and tea parties and lazy days in peace. 

????? what ????? her goals include imperialism, ethnic and religious targeting. her story is about having a set of beliefs and mowing down anybody who stands in her way. that has nothing to do with tea, friends, and lazy days. also am i supposed to be sad that she has to get up everyday and work? i do that and i didn’t start a war and only throw a pity party for myself

The game leaves the player guessing as to how involved the Flame Emperor was in each Part I event, makes you feel hurt by her betrayal, and leaves you with a choice: do you follow the orders of the woman who tried to make you a god without your consent, or a young girl with questionable morals about to throw the world into upheaval?

this isn’t an ideal situation but i think i’m going to stick with the woman who tried to make me a god since i’m not selfish and i know it’s not only my desires and life at stake here. plus the green hair slaps ngl

Choosing her of your own volition (not for completionist reasons) requires the basic ability to sympathize with a woman’s pain. It also requires the player to read beyond her unwavering will and dubious methods to get a sense of how deep that pain goes and how the theme of humanity relates to her differently in each route.

i’m not going to touch this since @nilsh13 made a post on it that i’ll link here. i agree with everything he said so to repeat it would be redundant.

The player must be able to see a young woman’s desperate resolve to change the world so it stops exploiting people and ruining lives. They must be able to accept the fact that women can make the same morally wrong and ambivalent decisions that complicated male characters get to make all the time and still be the one to root for.

literally the same reason i love rhea lol her goddess experiments are dubious at best but her reasons are the same you mentioned. i would say that i like this quality in edelgard too if her ending, while bloody, actually ended in a good outcome for fodlan.

This is not unique to LGBT+ people, but this population is likely to understand why Edelgard feels so strongly about why she has to change the system. 

i understand wanting to change a system, i really do. like edelgard, i’m an opinionated bisexual woman (who’s also physically disabled) so yeah i get it. and change can be good but it can also be terrible. even if the church was the boogeyman edelgard treats it as she still replaces it with her own shit regime. so it’s the same circus just with a new conductor.

I don’t think “Edelgard gets undue criticism because she’s a woman” captures the full picture. An important aspect of her treatment by certain parts of the fandom is that she’s a radical woman.

or maybe she does some pretty fucked up shit and it goes unacknowledged in her own route. and yeah she’s radical but in all the worst ways.

Her hatred of the Church and the Crest system resonates way harder with people who have been hurt by institutions that are deeply engrained in our society. 

and what about people who have been hurt by systems where their ‘merit’ didn’t measure up and they were left behind? what about people from nations that experienced imperialism?

Siding with her means siding against the Church - which, while different from real world religious institutions, still invokes language about “sin” and “punishment.

yeah the ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ are used in relation to attempted murders which i think everybody can agree is a bad thing that needs to be condemned.

Choosing Edelgard will likely hit different if homophobic and transphobic Christians used that rhetoric against you.

it has literally nothing to do with ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ in regards to being gay or trans. that’s you projecting. especially since the church has 2 canon gay characters and two coded ones.

like i can understand why having a church condemn you can be uncomfortable but i’m begging you to please look at the context of what’s happening.

I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that the reason F/F Edeleth is the more popular iteration of that ship because most people who would choose to S-support Edelgard are LGBT+ themselves. This is not a revelation. To anyone in the community, it’s fairly obvious. 

i was talking to nilish and he said

so yeah… while there is definitely sapphic femleth shippers out there, there’s still a whole lot of weird fetishizing going on from straight men about edelgard.

Crimson Flower was my first route. I went into the game knowing absolutely nothing. I played it during the last week of 2020 and hoo boy was it cathartic. 

i can tell. this wasn’t supposed to be a dig but it came out that way and i’m not taking it out.

I felt like I was living out a gay revolution power fantasy, where I could truly change systems of oppression while fighting alongside a group of troubled students I’d shaped the lives of.

so a gay revolution power fantasy (cringe) goes hand in hand with imperialism and installing a dictatorship? also the war had nothing to do with sexuality.

Through your unwavering support, Edelgard learns that she needs to be human, that she must listen to her friends, and that she’s allowed to enjoy the world she’s creating.

edelgard gets to learn how to be human all while hunting those who don’t. and she doesn’t listen fo her friends. she doesn’t even trust them. she’s willing to talk to byleth but keep the people who’s been by her side for five years in the dark about everything. and yeah she gets to enjoy her new words since she’s on top. hate to be a commoner under her rule after she burned down my village in her war.

I love this character so much.

clearly. and i honestly don’t care if somebody likes her. i do as well even if my sometimes scathing words can make it seem otherwise.

It has been six months since I first played and I am still analyzing her,

me too. please help me escape i’m losing my mind

because there’s so much depth. Yet so many people fail to see that depth and dismiss her as evil,

i mean, she does some fucked up shit that goes beyond any of the less than desirable actions of the other main characters and does an extremely poor job in trying to make herself seem innocent. i personally don’t think she’s pure evil but i completely understand where the people who say she is are coming from.

because they never had the will to understand complicated women in the first place. 

that’s big talk from somebody who implies that a gay pope is comparable to homophobic and transphobic irl religions and that leads an oppressive regime all because she uses the vague terms of sin and punishments that you have to gay power fantasy your way out of

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Hi, I read the post where you said Kuroko knows Momoi and Aomine are oblivious to their feelings for each other. I am 99% sure in one of the Replace novels Kise looks at Momoi and Aomine (in Teikou) and thinks that they are oblivious to their feelings for each other. Why do you think they’re oblivious? Maybe M can be since you can like 2 ppl at once and she likes Kuroko but M has big boobs and A loves boobs, and she likes basketball. I’m really surprised A doesn’t actively want her romantically.

Yeah, I think it was mentioned that Akashi, Kuroko and Kise know.

I think oblivious here is only Aomine really, Momoi is just in denial. I mean she for sure doesn’t like Kuroko romantically and I’m like 99% sure from many scenes, that she's also well aware of that. Now as to why she behaves the way she behaves I can only guess. I always just thought that she’s just in denial of her feelings for Aomine, so she created this whole “I’m in love with Kuroko” theater bc of this. Like as we know Kuroko doesn’t take it seriously and she also knows perfectly well that Kuroko doesn’t take it seriously. 

And if she was in love with Kuroko truly, after the Teiko split she would go with him, I mean bc like tbh no matter how great someones friendship is (and Aomine and Momoi have been friends for forever), if you fall in love, you still pick your love (like Akashi who desperately wanted to take Kuroko with him). Like Shion and Safu can be mega great friends, he’ll still pick Nezumi and go with him, given a choice; Sousuke and Rin - wonderful friendship, but again once Haru was in the picture, it went bye-bye Sousuke. It’s just what happens in real life, too. So the fact that she decided to stay by Aomine’s side, I mean she didn’t do it bc it was the school of her choice or smth.. we know that she’s a very intellegent gal, despite her pretending to be a barbie sometimes, so I think she knows about her feelings for him, she just doesn’t want to go there if you know what I mean. At the end of the day everything that she does, she does for Aomine, whether ppl like it or not. So to me, it’s like she knows about her feelings for Aomine, she just chose to pretend it doesn’t exist, bc of reasons and maybe along the way even also a bit started to believe her own lie.

As for Aomine, well he’s dense af, I mean, it’s been mentioned that he’s so dense, that he’s almost impossible to talk to. Not to mention the fact that he’s always running around with all those boobies magazines and models, so it’s kinda not surprising that Momoi tries to pretend that she’s not into him lol. But yeah, she’s practically his ideal, he always describes, who is right under his nose, so I guess it’s funny.

Aomine is also very bad about noticing ppl’s relationships in general, he doesn’t get it and doesn’t seek one for sure. From what I saw I think he just doesn’t even think its needed. He’s ok with porno magazines and basketball. So he simply doesn’t even consider having a girlfriend. It’s not even about Momoi per se.

They still flirt with each other and act like a couple and that’s what Kuroko and Kise see obviously. Aomine does it unintentionally, I think, like he genuinely probably doesn’t get what he’s doing. I also think he most likely does believe that she’s in love with Kuroko, bc he doesn’t have enough brains to catch the truth as many guys btw who watch KNB.

Like that one homophobic not a long time ago commented under my akakuro vid: “Kuroko has a girlfriend, so stay mad, fags” xD I was like “Momoi is canonically Aomine’s girl, so.. stay an idiot?”.

But I mean, yeah, there are ppl who truly believe that Momoi is really Kuroko’s romantic interest. Guys especially. They probably also read those Niguo scenes like “omg his dog doesn’t like her” lol. I think Aomine is also one of those. But I personally don’t even see Momoi/Kuroko as one-sided, I mean, she likes Kuroko for sure as much as everyone there, but she certainly doesn’t see him that way, I mean sometimes her performance looks close to idiotic and comedic, which doesn’t quite work with the fact that we know perfectly well, that that’s not who she is. 

And there are 3 characters in KNB who hide their real feelings this way btw.

Now some ppl believe that they’re in a “love rosie” kind of situation, when bc they were friends for so long that they tend to overlook each other as romantic partners, but I honestly don’t see it like that. I wasn’t surprised when I found out that they’re canonically intended couple, bc they’re really written like this. I definitely didn’t see them as “they behave like siblings”. And I don’t know what sibling would look for so long under their sister’s skirt and comment “that’s pretty bold of you to wear such underwear today”, but like to each their own xD

Tbh I very much approve, bc they’re not one of those gooey, pinky, dumb hetero relationships in animes, that I don’t even know where their feelings came from, you know. I mean, she handles him perfectly and loves him despite knowing all of his flaws and still wants to stick around and she’s practically the girl of his dreams, so I mean, in KNB I’m surprisingly like okay with all the who author thought belongs with whom situations.

[myhumanweakness]

Destiel/Cockles analysis s/p 15x18

Okay, so... This is gonna be a mishmash of thoughts, but if you stick with me maybe you’ll get what I’m saying. 

I’ve been seeing a lot of shit condemning Jensen as a homophobe because of his previous actions/statements about Destiel and also (for some ungodly reason) because of his performance during the confession in 15x18. And I have this theory that I needed to get out because it’s been there for a while, and now is the perfect time to explain it. 

This show started out in 2005 as a show about two manly, Midwestern men that  got pulled into a life of hunting the Earth’s worst creatures, tapping ass, and drinking beers (while also giving you a play-by-play on how to repress emotions), and there was also A LOT of love buried in the plot. A lot. 

The world was a completely different place in 2005. The own creator of the show didn’t expect the show to go past 5 seasons, so when the longevity came they were forced to grow. We watched this show go through a very human process/experience of growth and acceptance and evolution, and we got to grow along side it. Was it always a neat, beautiful process? Hell no. There were a lot of potholes along the way. But, growth isn’t linear. The point is that they (the writers, producers, actors, etc.) kept pushing themselves to grow year after year. 

So now, back to Jensen. Jensen has shown this fandom time and time again not only how grateful he is that we adore him and helped him to cultivate a life beyond what he has dreamed of but also that he is attentive and considerate to our feelings/thoughts. Has he disagreed with us at times? Hell yes he has. Has be bluntly stated that “Destiel doesn’t exist.” Hell yes he has. And it’s been hurtful and frustrating and invalidating. But, take a step back for a moment. 

Jensen is so connected to Dean. His friends and even his own wife has stated that he sometimes forgets that “he’s not Dean.” Dean has informed so much of who Jensen is for the last 15 years. And Jensen has admittedly seen a lot of himself in Dean. So who was Dean at the beginning of this show? Dean was the guy who made gay jokes, slept with plethoras of woman to fill a void (and also for pleasure), was so out of touch with his feelings because he was too busy being the person his father wanted/needed him to be, and had a very clear idea of what it meant to be a man. That’s the brain Jensen lived in for years while playing Dean. And honestly, it’s been speculated and discussed here, that Jensen’s brain might not have been too far off from that mindset outside of Dean. 

But just as we watched the show grow, I truly believe we watched Jensen grow. And we all know Danneel is a big part of that because she is wildly herself and big and fierce, especially about the things she believes in and loves, and she is open-minded and just pushes people to grow. And he has said those things about her. But I also think that a lot of Jensen’s growth came from Misha because as much as Danneel has influenced him over the years, I firmly believe Jensen needed to see/meet/form a relationship with someone like Misha in order to truly/permanently break down those walls about what a man should/could be. 

Cockles fans have long dissected and held up microscopes to Jensen and Misha’s relationship, so much so that there are pages and pages of theories about how their love bloomed, their break ups, their tender moments, and the growth of their relationship in general. But one thing that I think Jensen frequently struggled with is this idea that he needed to keep Dean true to who he is as a person, and that any growth and evolution in Jensen’s life (ie his relationship with Misha) couldn’t influence that. All of those moments he was denouncing Destiel seemed to be out of a struggle to keep those two people separate- Jensen vs Dean. Because in Jensen’s head, Dean was still this super straight, rough and tough, Midwestern monster hunter. 

But over the years, the Destiel fandom was comforted by Misha’s outspoken love, admiration, and agreement. Misha truly championed this fandom with reckless abandon. But while Misha was comfortable (to a degree) with himself and his relationship with Jensen, we really watched Jensen struggle. We watched Jensen grow. 

So, fast forward to the last couple of years. Destiel is subtextually canon- the writers have confirmed this at this point. Jensen is less negative about Destiel at panels insofar as to talk about their “break ups” and “domestic disputes” and “relationship” with a validating tone. Is he fervently talking about Destiel safe words and bondage and having sex/making out? No. But that’s not who Jensen is. He’s much more conservative with his emotions than Misha... at least publicly. 

This fandom has watched Jensen grow, not only in his dealings with/approach to Cockles but also with Destiel. So, while Jensen has long been adamant that Dean is not bisexual and couldn’t end up with Cas, I think there was potentially a moment where Misha (and potentially Danneel) were like, “Well, why can’t Dean be bi? Why can’t he finally realize that about himself after years of breaking down barriers and fears and conditioned notions? You did.” 

What came first, Cockles or Destiel? That’s been the debate right? The chicken or the egg? I truly think without Cockles coming first, we would have never been able to have Destiel. In fact, in my head, I can make the argument that without Jensen growing and going through the process of falling in love with Misha, Destiel would have never become canon. Jensen needed to first separate himself from Dean (which we are all privy to), grow and fall in love [again] as Jensen, and then give Dean the permission to grow and fall in love too. 

As we have seen from this week’s episode, Destiel has been there for years. YEARS. But Dean has always had to deal with two struggles: accepting himself and Jensen accepting him. We heard Jensen say at a panel that when he read the script for the final episode, he had a hard time coming to terms with what happened. People have long speculated that was referring to Destiel. Now, maybe it is and maybe it isn’t (I guess we’ll find out in two weeks), but it would make a lot of sense if it was. 

As everyone (the writers, actors, fans, etc.) has validated and acknowledged Destiel and particularly Dean’s love for Cas, Jensen has continued to struggle with it. But I don’t think it’s because Jensen is homophobic or anything like some people are saying. I think it’s because Jensen has worked tirelessly to separate the romantic lives of himself and Dean. Jensen convinced himself that Dean loving Cas and them having a relationship would be out of character, when in reality it followed this pattern of growth that both the show and bi (& LGTQ+) men/individuals around the world followed. Because Jensen is so connected to Dean, he can’t have 2020 vision until it’s hindsight because as Dean was coming out to himself and accepting himself, Jensen was accepting Dean simultaneously. It’s actually a beautiful thing. And it doesn’t make Jensen homophobic... it makes Jensen human. 

As many LGBTQ+ people will tell you, the path to realization and acceptance is fraught with struggle (internal and external) and doubt and denial and even self-hatred. There are no two characters that embody that more than Cas and Dean. So, I think that once Jensen realized that he went through a similar process as Dean it wasn’t that crazy anymore that Dean was in love with Cas. And Jensen loving Misha didn’t force Dean to love Cas- Jensen didn’t make Dean bi- Jensen loving Misha gave Dean the permission to love Cas and become one of the most human characters (especially male characters) to ever exist because we got to watch Dean find love and accept love through repression, struggle, self realization, and self acceptance. 

And for that, Jensen Ackles will go down in history as one of the best actors of this generation. Because he truly brought life to Dean Winchester.

Thank you for attending my TedTalk. I wanted to be much more thorough with this and include gifs and video evidence, but this is already lengthy and I doubt anyone even made it to the end. 

[woundjob]

what sort of things do you see in wolfstar fics that make you think "this was written by a straight person"

i let this sit in my inbox all day bc i didn’t wanna answer it gkdndnf basically it’s less about certain things happening and more about the tone. the way gay men talk to eachother and interact with eachother is different than how we act with straight people for example or how straight people interact with eachother. if you aren’t a gay man you’re bound to get some stuff wrong on accident. that doesn’t make you a bad person or a homophobic person. most of the time it’s an honest mistake and no cause for alarm, it’s just a little frustrating every now and then

there are definitely some things that stick out to me as avoidable right off the bat tho. for example, people like to write homophobia in their works bc it’s the 70s and 80s even tho those years were some of the most important for gay movements and community as a whole. in those days, when it was far more dangerous to be out and proud, people did it anyway, and surrounded themselves with people who supported them, so it’s really weird to me when people claim there has to be homophobia as a main component in their stories. obviously, some of these are written by gay people interested in gay history and wanting to be realistic about it, but i think sometimes people just want to hurt gay men in their fics.

some other stuff that comes to mind:

- when both if them are super masc. it’s the 70s and 80s for crying out loud! masc4masc gay dudes are the most annoying people in the world and in a lot of gay circles, at least the cool ones, they really aren’t taken seriously. when a fic has remus and sirius being hyper aware of masculinity, it’s pretty cringeworthy. like why have u characterized this dude as the guy i have blocked on grindr for calling me a fag

- or when sirius is a womanizer or has only ever dated women before and is like weirded out by the idea that he’s gay (u don’t see this as much with remus) while it’s true that gay men struggle with internalized homophobia, especially back then, it’s a real pain in the ass to have to read about how much a gay character hates themself for being gay.

- when dom/sub roles leave the bedroom. like, when a bottom is sweet and innocent and precious uke and when a top is hypermasculine and stoic and whatever and they both act like a daddy and a baby all the time. you see this a lot with folks who have no sexual experience and no experience with gay people outside of the internet. very yaoi-brained

- that being said tho the opposite is also true. when people are so scared of fetishizing gay men they forget that we are sexually active at all. this is excusable with wolfstar because of all the trauma lol

anyway that’s all that’s coming to mind right now. i guess my main point is if you aren’t a gay man, you shouldn’t just assume you know what we want or how we interact with eachother based on fanfiction. or even really based on one persons word!! i’m not the spokesperson for every gay man after all, maybe other dudes would disagree with me. honestly, the best thing to do when you’re writing anything you don’t have experience with is ask someone who does. and if ur really unsure, pay a sensitivity reader!

[a-little-slice-of-fandom]

In derry girls, what did you think of the episode where clare came out? Im irish (republic) and gay so i love that it was included, but some of the language used makes me uncomfortable i guess? I get that NI in the 90s wasnt very accepting but the directors have said that they already portrayed it through rose coloured glasses so having michelle say d*ke feels unnecessary. I love the show though and can certainly look past it! I was just interested in what you thought :)))

Hey anon!

Personally I love this episode of Derry Girls! In fact it’s probably my favourite episodes. I already liked Clare as a character throughout the series, probably because I relate to her a bit too much, so to have her be revealed as gay was just like the icing on the cake. Good representation for northern Irish characters are few and far between, and gay northern Irish characters are basically non existent. Derry Girls was this hit TV show that provided many with the first chance to see themselves represented meaningfully on TV, and that includes myself.

However, I think there’s a lot of really important stuff in this episode that people either don’t notice or just don’t really talk about, which I do understand because Derry Girls is, at the end of the day, a comedy and it’s much more fun to quote characters like Aunt Sarah saying “you cannot move for lesbians these days” than to think about the darker side of Northern Ireland.

(T/W for homophobia discussion!!!)

(Also this sort of turned into a ramble about acceptance by the end of the post but I just have a lot of feelings on what Derry girls represents and I feel like non northern Irish viewers maybe don’t catch onto that because they don’t have the necessary context)

Derry Girls, as a show, is so interesting and personal to me because it manages to perfectly strike the balance between presenting Northern Ireland as a deeply flawed and divided country, but also presenting it as a place where people can be happy and live their lives to the fullest despite the ever present danger of the troubles. And that’s a genuinely refreshing portrayal of N.I that we usually don’t get. However I’d argue that if Derry Girls doesn’t at least try and illustrate, to some extent, the causal and very rampant homophobia of northern Ireland then it runs the risk of romanticising Northern Ireland at the time, which I think is incredibly dangerous. I do think that the show is intentionally more digestible and does filter things through rose tinted glasses, however I’d argue that simply glossing over the homophobia would have actually been a bit disrespectful to the queer history of Northern Ireland and could erase the experiences and struggles of the LGBTQ community in N.I, both then and now. If the show doesn’t acknowledge that things were shitty then we paint an inaccurate picture of what it was like, and arguably still is like, to be gay in Northern Ireland. And considering that Derry Girls is one of the very few good depictions of Northern Ireland, it’s incredibly important that it’s an honest depiction.

You specifically asked about Michelle, but I think it’s important to talk about Michelle and Erin in relation to one another, and how they are both products of their time and of a deeply homophobic society.

(Now I’m going to briefly discuss Michelle’s use of the d-slur here however I just want to acknowledge that I’m probably not the best person to talk about this since it’s a lesbian specific slur and I’m not a lesbian. I welcome any additions to this post!)

I think Michelle sort of represents the overt and “loud” homophobia that’s present in our society. Michelle saying the d-slur is far from the first homophobic thing she says. I mean It’s literally a running gag in series one that she calls James “gay” constantly. And the sad thing is that Michelle’s off handed comments throughout the series are incredibly realistic to what you’d hear in Northern Ireland even today. I remember the f-slur being chanted during break time at my primary school, without anyone fully understanding what that word meant. Michelle is a representation of the homophobia that’s deeply ingrained into N.I to the point where it’s not even thought about or even seen as an issue. I mean...no one ever really talks about Michelle’s comments. Now whether or not they had to include her saying a slur specifically to illustrate the homophobia of N.I is not for me to say. You could change that sentence in the script and I think the point of Michelle representing “loud” and homophobia would still stand.

On the other hand...I think Erin represents the much more insidious and “quiet” homophobia.

Firstly, she has no issue with capitalising off a very personal essay for her own gain, shrugs off any protests that this might be wrong and doesn’t consider how her actions may hurt the writer of this piece (who is later revealed to be Clare).

Even the language she uses is a bit uncomfortable, saying that “a real life lesbian walks among us”. Are lesbians wild animals or mythical creatures? That seems to be what Erin is implying here. Plus Erin tries to make it out to others such as Sister Michael that she’s doing this because she genuinely believes in equal rights and wishes to stick up for the LGBT community, but when Clare actually tries to come out Erin is clearly confused and she reacts very badly. I mean, Erin literally says she doesn’t want Clare to come out and demands she get back in the closet, and you can see how hurt Clare is by this reaction. And this scene is kind of played for laughs and I think that straight viewers probably found Erin’s reaction quite funny...but this scene hit way too close to home for me. It’s the classic “I have nothing against gay people, but I’d just rather I didn’t have a gay friend/child/co-worker because they make me uncomfortable” that’s way too common in Northern Ireland. It’s the idea that people can present themselves as liberal and open minded, but when finally confronted with something that doesn’t fit their narrative, their societal conditioning kicks in.

As a queer woman, it was never Michelle’s causal homophobia that made me uncomfortable, it was Erin’s reaction...because it hit way too close to home. It’s a perfect representation of the “quiet” homophobia that’s still a massive issue in Northern Ireland today.

(Also the context of when Derry Girls was released is super important! Series one of Derry Girls was released in 2018...but Gay marriage wasn’t actually legalised in Northern Ireland until January of 2020 and even then it was quite contested by conservatives. Now I’m not saying there’s social commentary here but that’s absolutely what I’m saying.)

Now I’m not saying that Michelle or Erin themselves are homophobic, nor am I saying that they’re bad people. I think that they are teenagers that have absorbed a lot of homophobic rhetoric due to the time and the society that they live in. Although Erin’s reaction to Clare trying to come out was painful to watch because it felt so real, I don’t think her reaction was malicious. Erin is a teenager who has grown up in a homophobic society and now doesn’t really know how to react to this new reality and probably didn’t realise how hurtful she was being to Clare. (This isn’t me trying to excuse her reaction, again I am part of the LGBT community and I’ve experienced that exact same reaction from people, it’s me trying to understand Erin’s reaction). Erin and Michelle have both absorbed rhetoric from their deeply homophobic society, and unfortunately this rhetoric continues.

Plus I just want to comment on this idea of acceptance and change in Derry Girls. Derry Girls is set in the time of great change in Northern Ireland, where people were sort of starting to accept that people are allowed to be British or Irish or both. But this process was messy and it wasn’t instantaneous. And the acceptance of the LGBTQ community in Northern Ireland was the exact same. It didn’t just happen overnight. It was a slow and messy process of change, of people re-evaluating their previous beliefs and being given the chance to grow as people and to learn how to accept others. That’s not to say people haven’t made mistakes in the past, because they have, but they’re willing to take the steps to change. I‘ve always thought the LGBTQ subplot of Derry Girls is sort of a parallel to the overall process of change in Northern Ireland in a political sense. And I think that flies over so many people’s heads because they don’t have that context of the political situation in N.I.

(And this theme of acceptance is seen again in the series finale of series 2 with James! ✨ Thematic consistency ✨ )

Because at the end of the day, Clare is accepted by the group. In fact, we see both the teenagers and the adults actively take steps to make her feel loved, welcome and accepted. My favourite moment will always be Granda Joe saying “you’re a very talented people” to Clare in the most earnest voice. Clare is still loved by her friends and although they don’t exactly know what they’re doing, they do try and show their support for her. They absolutely make mistakes, and they did hurt Clare, but they’re trying and I think that stands for a lot, especially at the time.

And I think all of what I discussed was absolutely necessary to Derry Girls. Derry Girls might be a somewhat rose tinted portrayal of Derry in the troubles, but it never tries to romanticise the situation that the teenagers were in (because no one should be romanticising the troubles). I think that this stance of portraying the harsh reality of homophobia in N.I is equally important to the narrative of Derry Girls. I see my own experiences in Clare, despite the fact it’s 30 years later, so if they didn’t at least attempt to show the homophobia in Ireland it would have felt disingenuous and too “perfect”. Again, I’m not saying that Michelle using the d slur was the right way to go about showing the “loud” homophobia of Northern Ireland. That’s not my decision to make. However, just because Derry Girls is making efforts to present Northern Ireland in a more digestible way to audiences (especially non northern Irish audiences) doesn’t mean they shouldn’t also acknowledge the reality of Northern Ireland at the time.

(This all kind of makes it sound like I want Clare to get hate crimed which I obviously do not want. I think the way that Derry Girls showed the issues in Northern Ireland were perfect and very much necessary, minus the use of the d-slur specifically which wasn’t necessary to the plot.)

Anyway thank you so much for the ask anon! This was much more rambly than my usual posts but I just really have a lot of opinions on Derry girls because it does mean a lot to me and it often does hit close to home.

[quercus-queer]

BA’s Reckoning

Yes, I stole this title from the Sporkful podcast. You should check it out!

So just a reminder the whole thing that kicked this off was when Tammie Teclemariam tweeted the photo of Rapoport in brown face (yes its brown face its a purposeful caricature of Puerto Rican ppl, his girlfriend called him her papi in the caption as well) saying he should simply write the article on Puerto Rican food then (the issue was Illyanna Maisonet, a Puerto Rican food writer, got rejected rudely by Rapo for her pitch to write about Puerto Rican food) Which brings up the larger issue of BA being racist and not covering any other dishes besides Eurocentric ones, and the ones that aren't Eurocentric are almost always either whitewashed or done by white people which is what happened with Masionet’s article (this is where Amanda Shapiro and Meryl Rothstein come in).

This led to a zoom meeting where Rapo made a shitty apology leading Sohla El-Waylly’s instagram posts, where she condemns Rapo, talks about her 50k salary despite having 15 years of restaurant experience (She ran a fucking restaurant and 50k in NYC is pathetic), being hired to help white editors, and not being paid for ANY of her video appearances (none of the poc you see in videos have been compensated including the zoom videos). Which has led to many people at BA being exposed for being terrible (Conde Nast is the parent company and owns BA, Vogue, Architectural Digest, Allure, Glamour, Wired, Epicurious,Teen Vogue among other things... also take note how most of these have consistently been criticized for their racism or “race problems”)

ANYWAY here’s a general guide of what each BA person has done, this is in no way comprehensive, feel free to investigate on your own, always fact check and form your own opinions!

Adam Rapoport: Brown face, not paying his non-white employees for their video appearances, treating his assistant Ryan Walker-Hartshorn (a black woman) like shit (she was working overtime and was barely making rent with what he was paying her), he's sexist (see every video with Molly) and racist (mixing up Sohla and Priya Krishna and never apologizing) and more!

Check out the Business Insider piece, twitter (Tammie’s, Christina Chaey’s, and Priya’s), Sohla’s podcast and interviews, and someone made a compilation of Rapo being condescending I think

Matt Duckor: Disgusting, racist, homophobic, sexist all around terrible person, probably the most obviously terrible of the bunch (see Rick Martinez’s insta plus Duckor’s own tweets), strung along Sohla for months saying that her pay was “stuck in legal” so that she would keep appearing in videos, gave Sohla a contract when this stuff first started happening to try and shut her up, HE is the one deciding pay for everyone at BA and was the one not paying poc for video appearances.

Check out Rick’s Insta, Twitter for Duckor’s tweets (screenshots bc he deleted his account)

Carla Lalli Music: First off, ppl are pointing out she was condescending af to a lot of her guests on her show (except for the white ones). The racism at BA did not start nor stop with Adam Rapoport and guess who was editor in chief before him? Yup, Mrs. Carla Lalli Music! Necessary amendment: Carla was the food director NOT the editor in chief and she is currently an editor at large... still a powerful position though and I think the sentiment still stands. She had a pretty pathetic twitter thread about how she should’ve done more but was focused on the sexism/focusing on women, strange because she also sent that shitty email to two women along with Delany and Brad after the two of them, Delany, and Brad were talking in the kitchen, telling them not to enter the kitchen without permission (not enforced on Brad or Delany obviously, only the two women who happen to not be white) I misread the article, Brad was a part of the convo, he did NOT receive the email, and didn't respond to the articles request for comment.. he fucking works in the test kitchen, i’m an idiot and that's on me

Business insider and her twitter 

Alex Delany: I have a post with the screenshots of the confederate flag cake he made himself because he felt the “need to express some southern heritage in cake form. Such a glorious cake...” for his friend moving to South Carolina, the lovely vine with the classic “F*g is a bundle of sticks joke” also have a post discussing that, he’s wildly underqualified for DRINKS editor and overpaid, also his girlfriend is Allegra Lorenzotti whose mother Eva Lorenzotti, is in Jeffery Epstein’s black book which is concerning (though who knows maybe Delany is dating a different wealthy Allegralo), also those sexist tweets

I have screenshots from Tumblr, ppl have the vine on twitter along with the sexist tweets (he deleted his twitter and Tumblr btw)

Andy Baraghani: There are screenshots of Alyse Whitney’s (an asian woman) twitter thread saying Andy purposefully undercut her articles multiple times because of a petty feud with Antoni from Queer Eye by using his friendship with Amanda Shapiro (Whitney’s editor) to kill the story, which is shitty and brings up the bigger picture of BA being cliquey and getting in with a friend of a friend and such which is just a toxic work environment

Amanda Shapiro: Puerto Rican food article, Alyse Whitney’s articles, she’s a perpetuator of the toxic work environment, stealing Nikita Richardson’s work and getting credit and pay for it (pls check out her twitter and the articles with her), also racist, should not be in charge

Chris Morocco: Made one (1) basic post (simply a reply to Molly calling him out actually) at the beginning of all this agreeing to not be in anymore videos until his coworkers got paid/backpay, he said he was complicit (duh) but also that he had no idea this was happening, but guess what? He is the one that hired Sohla for only 50k! There is a whole can of worms about how little Sohla was hired for despite her experience plus talent along with her current pay and Chris is a part of that. Also both his gumbo video and Halo Halo recipe are downright disrespectful at BEST and they should not have had a white man doing them (again with the white people doing articles/videos that can be EASILY given to someone whose actually part of that culture) and before anyone says anything yes the gumbo was for Chris’s show (strange how only white ppl get shows or in Andy’s case unless you’re friends with a higher up) still doesn't make the video less disrespectful, also he’s SAID he is friends with Anna Wintour (head of vogue, and a racist “there’s no room for black women” the reason the vogue challenge is happening)

Brad Leone: Himbo status permanently revoked, “Brad who just found out racism is real”(Sohla said this in the Sporkful podcast) is NOT acceptable for a 35 year old white man whose coworkers are suffering in a clearly toxic work environment, the screenshot with “I didn’t sign her contract she did” is NOT how you respond to your coworker being underpaid and disrespected by the company she works at because she is not a white man. I do not like him anymore, he has made apologies but ignorance to this extent is willful and I don't completely buy it the rumors he was upset Delany was going to be fired/would quit if Delany was fired/was mad at Sohla is not something I was able to confirm but based off of what I’ve seen he really needs to prove himself to be better, he can stay if that’s what his coworkers want but he is on thin fucking ice

Stuff I can't accredit to a single person, but BA is racist: 

NIKITA RICHARDSON, pls check her out on twitter

They sent Sohla to interview black chefs (bc BA has a bad track record) because she was the darkest and there were literally NO black chefs working at BA

Making Priya only cook Indian dishes (which were kinda whitewashed) I actually think this may have been Duckor

Tokenizing the poc staff (they would make them be in the kitchen when filming the white hosts shows and push them in front of the camera to highlight nonexistent diversity)

Paying Hawa Hassan only $400 for her video (probs also Duckor)

[unbridgeabledistances]

Prompt: mickey is walking with Franny when Terry shows up. Mickey protects Franny. Franny runs home where ian and family are and shouts that a man is hurting uncle mickey. Basically hurt mickey, protective ian. Ian conforting Mickey afterwards!

anon this is so GOOD !!! i LOVE some mickey & franny content, plus gallavich comfort :’) this is somewhat intense and got way too long lol, but the whole thing was so fun to write and i hope u enjoy <3

also my asks are open for more prompts! (since i am on winter break & bored out of my mind lol)

& ofc, tw for homophobia and physical violence

--

“C’mon kiddo! Bet you can’t catch me!”

“Yes, Uncle Mickey, yes I can!”

The sun was beating down onto the slushy pavement of the South Side, reflecting off the gritty late-winter snow that remained on the sides of the road and nearly blinding Mickey as he tried to lightly jog down the slippery sidewalk, just outside of Franny’s reach. Franny, who was a tottering bundle in her thick winter coat, a scratchy-looking red woolen scarf Tami had given her for Christmas, and a pink sparkly winter hat Debbie had forced over her ears before Mickey took her outside to play, was running as fast as she could to stay on Mickey’s heels.

Mickey hadn’t meant to take Franny as far away from the Gallagher house, into the winding South Side neighborhoods, as he had—Debbie was having some sort of meltdown about her business going to shit after a situation with organic snacks and climbing out a window (Mickey wasn’t even going to ask)—and sensing tensions were high, Mickey had pulled Franny out the back door to run around and play “gangsters,” her new favorite game, with the toy guns he’d gotten her for Christmas. They were going to stick to playing in the backyard, mostly because it was fucking freezing and almost dark outside, until Franny was about to encroach on Mickey’s fictional gang’s territory under the porch stairs, and of course Mickey couldn’t have that—so now they were racing through the streets, with Franny giggling and practically tripping over her own clunky winter boots every few steps.

“Is that all you’ve got, Wonder Woman? Come and get me!” Mickey called to Franny over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get you! I will, Uncle Mickey!”

Mickey chuckled as he kept running, and felt his heart soften. As shitty as he’d always been with kids, and how often he always froze in panic anytime he’d had to take care of Yev back in the day, he had to admit that goofing around with Franny was pretty fucking fun.

And that also just made him depressed, because he knew that she was going to grow up surrounded by all of this bullshit—the dysfunctional family, Frank’s shenanigans, the drugs and beat downs, the mom with an ankle bracelet. Right now, Franny was just a kid—the neighborhood hadn’t taken its toll on her yet.

Luckily, Mickey didn’t have shit to do all day—he barely had a job aside from security for Kev and V’s practically non-existent pot side business, so he had plenty of time to play with Franny. If he could do anything with his life right now, he could make sure that Franny had some happy memories to cut through all the bullshit life was inevitably about to throw to her.

Mickey continued to run, lost in thought, until Franny caught up to him and sharply tugged on the back of his coat.

“I win, Uncle Mickey, I win! Now I’m gonna blow your face off!” Franny said with a playful scowl as she held up her toy gun.

Mickey chuckled and put his hands up in the air in resignation, turning to face Franny. “Alright, kid, you got me. Nice work.”

He held his hand out for Franny to high-five, which she gave willingly before pulling off her sparkly pink hat and throwing it on the ground.

“I’m too hot. Uncle Mickey, can we go home now? I think I know the way back.”

Mickey ruffled her hair. “Sounds good, kiddo. Lead the way.”

Just as they were about to start walking in the direction of the Gallagher house, a gruff voice came from behind them, mingling with the blowing wind.

“Mickey?”

Oh fuck.

Mickey turned around slowly, giving a quick mental prayer to whatever god that existed, if god even did fucking exist, that the voice he heard wasn’t the one he thought he had.

In the end, it was as bad as his worst nightmare.

Terry stood six feet in front of him on the ice-caked sidewalk, a lit cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth (just like it always was), his hands visibly curled into fists by his sides. Mickey took in a sharp breath, and tried to quell the wave of panic overtaking him. Calm the fuck down. Mickey tried to remember the checklist of what he always had to do when he saw his dad, a survival tactic he hadn’t had to think about for months: Keep your eyes down. See if you can smell alcohol. Look at his waistline and see if he has a gun.

Mickey’s eyes flickered to Terry’s pockets. No gun, thank fucking god. He slowly reached out behind him to take Franny’s tiny gloved hand, mentally cursing himself for letting them walk this far from home. Then he looked Terry in the eyes and swallowed. You can do this.

“Hiya, pops. What’re you doing over here on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, his stance still aggressive, but he remained rooted a safe distance away. “Don’t make fucking small talk with me, fairy boy.” He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you around here.”

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day. About time for a family reunion.”

Terry gave a bitter, menacing chuckle that sent a shiver of remembrance down Mickey’s spine. “Who’s the kid?”

“Uh. It’s Debbie’s kid.” My niece, he bit back. My husband’s sister’s daughter.

Franny looked up at Mickey, not in confusion but in wide-eyed understanding. Franny was only five, sure, but she wasn’t stupid; she’d seen her fair share of violent shit go down on the street in front of her, and she knew what aggression looked like—what it looked like when someone was about to attack. Mickey looked back at her, and ever-so-slightly raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a warning. Get ready to run, kid.

“Huh.” Terry threw his cigarette butt on the ground, slowly grinding the ash into the slush with the toe of his shoe. “Funny that you’re out here with her, all on your own. No one else on the street, not for blocks.”

Mickey exhaled, attempting to still his racing heart. On a different day, when he wasn’t so caught off guard by Terry’s presence, he would have ended this here and now; pulled a gun and put a bullet right through his father’s homophobic skull. But Terry was right—there was no one outside for miles, no one stirring behind the curtains of the houses lining the streets, no one to call for help if Terry physically overpowered him and kicked the life out of him. And Franny was still holding his hand.

“Yeah, well. We’re just goin’ for a walk. And we’re gonna head back now, if you’re… done.”

Terry held Mickey’s gaze, unblinking. When he spoke, his voice was low and ice cold. “When the fuck was I ever done with you?”

It all happened in an instant, but also in terrifyingly smooth slow motion—Terry charged at Mickey, fists raised, skidding across the ice in a blur.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you deformed excuse for a Milkovich!”

Terry was seething with the same fiery anger as when he flipped the table at Yevgeny’s christening, the night he found out that Mickey was gay—as he raced across the pavement, all Mickey could do was think about how to get Franny out of here before his father’s fist connected with his face. He gently shoved Franny behind him towards the sidewalk leading to the Gallagher house.

“Go, Franny, go!” He choked out, before Terry thrust a punch to his stomach and Mickey doubled over, kneeling on the damp sidewalk.

Terry’s shadow hovered over Mickey, and he knelt down, grabbing the hair at the scruff of Mickey’s neck. Mickey could smell his breath, all stale cigarettes and burnt coffee, like it had been for the past thirty years of his life.

“Been waiting a long time for this,” Terry said through his teeth. Mickey gathered every ounce of strength that he could— thank you, Kev Fit membership— and crashed his own head into his father’s, toppling him over and pinning him down. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, and saw Franny’s bootprints leading down the street, saw a flash of a red scarf turning the final corner a few blocks down. Thank god.

Terry squirmed under Mickey’s iron grip on his wrists. “Get off me, assfucker!”

“Sorry, Dad, no can do.” Mickey could almost grin. All he had to do was knock his dad out cold, and this whole thing could be over—

Out of nowhere Terry’s right arm broke free, striking Mickey’s side and toppling him onto the pavement.

“I’ve got you now,” Terry drawled, and that was the last thing Mickey heard before Terry’s boot stuck into his side and he saw stars.

**

The sun had almost set beneath the clouds, casting a warm glow through the front windows of the Gallagher house. Ian and Carl sat in the living room, engaged in particularly immersive debate about the accuracy of cop drama TV shows in an attempt to drown out Debbie’s continued melodrama of reading her bad Yelp reviews.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, there’s no way an EMT would actually get to the scene that quickly anyways—"

There was a soft series of frantic knocks at the front door, so gentle Ian barely would have heard it if the TV volume wasn’t turned to a low hum. Ian sprang up and swung the front door open to… Franny?

A tear-stained, snow-soaked Franny, with matted hair and a scarf hanging half off her neck.

“Uncle Ian! Uncle Ian, we have to go help Uncle Mickey!”

What the fuck?

“Franny, what’s the matter?” Ian tried to gently guide her inside out of the cold, but Franny stomped her boots and shoved Ian’s hand away.

“We have to go now Uncle Ian! A man is hitting Uncle Mickey! We have to go quick!”

Ian froze. Shit. There were plenty of people who wanted an excuse to beat the crap out of Mickey, most of whom Mickey could take— but regardless, Ian didn’t want anyone fucking up Mickey’s parole.

“Oh, shit. Okay. Franny, can you take me to Uncle Mickey?”

Franny fervently nodded. “He’s up the street. I was chasing him when we were playing.”

Ian turned to call over his shoulder. “Hey, can anyone help me back Mickey up in a fight with some dude?”

Carl put his hands up in resignation. “Don’t look at me, man. I should be a mile away from any instance of Mickey breaking his parole.”

Sandy darted into the living room, from the kitchen where she had been consoling Debbie. “Mickey’s in a fight?”

“Apparently. He was playing with Franny down the road and now Franny’s back here.”

Sandy looked at the disheveled Franny standing in the doorway. “Shit. I’ll grab my shoes.”

“Uncle Ian, we have to go now!”

“Okay, we’re coming Franny. Lead the way.”

**

Franny guided them down the sidewalk, the three of them casting dark shadows onto the roadside piles of snow as the sun disappeared beneath the clouds. “This way!”

Ian didn’t really know what he was expecting to see as they turned the final corner, the street almost totally enveloped in darkness— maybe Mickey pinning some guy up against a wall, or in the back of a cop car. But he was certainly not prepared to see Mickey as a static heap sprawled on the sidewalk, while the unmistakable figure of Terry Milkovich stood above him, pummeling Ian’s husband.

Sandy noticed Terry’s presence before Ian could even react to what was going on. “Uh, Franny, hey, can you walk back to the house please?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Ian’s feet were sprinting down the street. “Terry! Get the FUCK off of him!”

Ian could barely register his body’s movements as he smashed his fist into Terry’s nose and tackled him to the ground. Terry spit in Ian’s face. “Fucking Gallagher!”

Ian hit Terry once again, keeping him pinned down. He struck him over and over, not stopping to process if he was even moving, or breathing, or fighting back.

“Hey! Everyone calm the fuck down!”

Ian looked up over his shoulder—Sandy was standing above them, pointing a gun directly at Terry, whose face was now bashed and bloody.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, my dear Uncle Terry,” Sandy said in a sickly-sweet voice that didn’t match her iron gaze. “Ian’s going to get off of you, and you’re going to stand up and walk down the street back to your shithole house. And you’re going to watch your fucking back, because you never know when I could decide to come home one night while you’re asleep and make you regret everything you did this evening. Are we clear?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, panting as he stayed pinned beneath Ian. “Those Gallagher queers got you too, huh?”

Sandy cocked the gun even more aggressively in Terrys direction, her thumb teasing the safety.

“That’s not how it works, dumbass. Unlike some pieces of garbage in this neighborhood, the Gallagher family actually cares about each other. Now—are we clear?”

Terry scowled at Ian, and gave a curt nod. “Get the fuck off me, fag.”

Ian didn’t budge. “Sandy, no,” Ian snarled.

“Ian, we’ll deal with him later.”

Ian looked up at Sandy, who met his eyes with an expectant gaze, still holding the gun directly at Terry. It took every ounce of strength Ian had to kneel and rise from the ground—it would be so easy to knock Terry out, to tell Sandy to pull to trigger, to put all the pain he’d caused behind them. To finally feel safe.

Terry immediately stood, and looked at Mickey on the ground, practically unconscious and his blood mingling with the snow. Terry opened his mouth to say some final retort— but Sandy clicked off the safety of the gun, steadily pointing it in his direction, and Terry promptly closed his mouth again. He turned and walked away.

Ian was immediately at Mickey’s side. “Fuck, Mickey, fuck.” Ian choked out. “Hey, look at me.”

Mickey had definitely hit his head, hard—there was a gash on his forehead dripping blood down his face, just like the night of Yevgeny’s christening when they’d watched Terry be forced into the back of a cop car. He looked up at Ian, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. Ian quickly scanned the rest of Mickey’s body—aside from a few solid kicks to the ribs, his head injury seemed to be the only major issue. Ian gently ran a hand through his hair.

“Mickey, hey, can you stand up? We’ve gotta get you home.”

First, get Mickey home— only then could Ian actually let himself process everything that had happened, and swallow down the bile rising from his stomach. First, Mickey had to be safe.

Sandy leaned over next to Ian. “Do you think we’re gonna have to carry him?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Can you grab his legs?”

**

Mickey forced his heavy eyelids open, hazy and disoriented. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep out of his eyes. The blurry outlines of he and Ian’s bedroom, cloaked in darkness, slowly came into focus. He could feel the scratchy crocheted blanket on top of him, but aside from that his limbs were so heavy and numb he could barely move. A dull pain throbbed in the back of his head. Fuck.

“You awake?”

Ian was curled next to him in bed, not touching any part of Mickey’s aching body but leaning in close, nearly a centimeter away. Ian’s hand reached up and gently wiped a damp piece of hair off of Mickey’s forehead. Mickey winced.

“Sorry. How d’you feel?”

“I’ve definitely felt better,” Mickey croaked. “What time is it?”

“Almost 1 a.m. You’ve been out for a few hours,” Ian replied in a low voice.

“Shit.” Mickey closed his eyes. They were silent in the darkness for a few moments, but Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes on him. “My head fuckin’ hurts. What’s your prognosis, doc?”

“You definitely have a concussion. It probably won’t be a big deal in a week or two. You don’t need stitches or anything, though. And I did some EMT magic on your ribs, which mostly just means I put ice on them while you were sleeping.”

Mickey smirked, his eyes still closed—partially from the headache, but partially because he didn’t want to look Ian in the eyes yet. “Franny okay?”

“Yeah, she’s all good.”

“And, uh. Terry?”

He could feel Ian stiffen beside him. “Probably at home, being the same lowlife asshole he always has been. Sandy pulled a gun on him.”

Mickey opened his eyes, and could see through the darkness that Ian’s own eyes looked puffy and worn. It killed him to see Ian suffering, once again, because of him— it felt like they were always battling something at every turn, sure, but in Mickey’s case, it was almost always Terry they were fighting against.

“Fuck. When I’m less tired, and my body feels less like shit, remind me to go kill him, yeah?”

Ian laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I almost tried that tactic myself. I think Sandy scared the shit out of him, though. We’ll figure out what to do if he… acts up again.”

Mickey knew it was a lot more complicated than that, and that in the morning he would probably be seething and grabbing his guns and marching down to Terry’s house with fire in his eyes, but they didn’t need to dwell on that right now. Right now it was quiet, and Ian’s body was pressed against his, and Mickey was wrapped in a warm blanket in a bed with his husband. They were safe.

“I’ve thought I’d lost you thousands of times, Mick, but tonight really scared me” Ian softly whispered, cutting through the silence. “I thought… I don’t know, when I saw you on the sidewalk, I thought after all the shit your dad has said, I might’ve been too late.”

Mickey took a sharp breath in, making his ribs sting, while Ian kept talking.

“When you were in jail, or in Mexico, I knew you were always out there, and I guess knowing that always kept me going. But knowing I could have lost you again tonight—I don’t know, it scared the shit out of me,” Ian said, his voice breaking.

Mickey mustered all the strength he had, and slightly shifted his weight onto his left side to face Ian, whose eyes were glassy. Beneath all of Ian’s macho shit the past few weeks, it was so easy to look at him and forget that he was still also that tired, scared kid from the South Side that Mickey met ten years ago, one who didn’t know if good things could be permanent or if other people could stick around. Mickey put his hand up to Ian’s face, running his thumb up and down his cheekbone.

“Hey. C’mere.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey—gently at first, like he was gliding his fingers over something precious, and then fully wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face in the hair on top of Mickey’s head. Mickey could feel Ian’s heartbeat through his thin t-shirt, feel the warmth radiating off of his biceps that encircled him. Ian pressed a kiss to the top of Mickey’s head, where his forehead met his hairline.

“I’m here, Gallagher,” Mickey whispered into Ian’s skin. “I’m not going anywhere. No one’s gonna change that shit.”