#don’t mind me I’m just being annoying on tumblr dot com

[singinprincess]

You know what? This talking Book is so valid for this. Reba WILL save us. I’ve been saying this for years.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

i voted no because it comes across like you want to argue about it, not like you don’t want to be bothered by people like that

yeah that's fair. i definitely don't actually want to argue, but at the same time my inbox is open my anon is on and my DMs are set so anyone can message me if they want, so it's not like i'm actively trying to avoid being bothered by people like that?

i guess the poisonous frog metaphor is more like, in this scenario where izzy fans are the predators and i am a poisonous frog, if the predator does try to eat the poisonous frog anyway the frog is like, mildly annoyed at worst, but probably finds the predator kinda funny. the frog is mostly unbothered. so that image as my header is more of a warning for izzy fans than it is an effective defense for me

the thing is that one of my biggest joys on tumblr dot com is making my blog title into some kind of stupid joke. for a while it was "Worthless Idiot Loser" because an anon called me that for stanning izzy (a thing i am notorious for Not Doing). and i think my most iconic header was What If King George Was Demisexual.

currently my blog title is based on that time when i accidentally made people think i thought izzy was straight, which is already something izzy fans (and i think just ofmd twitter as a whole) think of as a time when i was trying to start a fight or whatever. and the joke there is that izzy being straight is the dumbest and also funniest concept to me, and it's funny that i got yelled at for not even saying that.

so like, someone saying "so many ppl with ourflagmeansgay[X] as their url are suicide-baiting antis" is right up my alley in terms of shit i find funny, bc i absolutely do not do that and it's funny how the things i've said have been taken out of context and read in bad faith and now that's how people perceive me. that sounds bitter lol but genuinely i find it funny, like it's literally tumblr. everybody calm down.

and if someone does want to try and argue with me abt it tho i don't mind explaining that no, i've never told anyone to jump off a cliff or anything along those lines, and i'm only an "izzy anti" in that i personally hate izzy and love to dunk on him, and that i (and other ofmd fans) have noticed problematic trends in a lot of izzy content. and yes, i will make posts about those trends and i discuss that stuff on my blog, but by no means have i ever sent harassing messages, nor do i condone harassment. i don't want to tell people what to do!! like even when i say "izzy's popularity in the ofmd fandom is yet another example of the pervasive trend across every fandom ever of fan content prioritizing a shitty white masc antagonist, even in media with a diverse cast," noticing that trend is not the same thing as saying "so if YOU are an izzy fan, i think YOU SPECIFICALLY need to stop posting about izzy now!!"

anyway currently "yes" is winning by a landslide so it looks like i’m going to be choosing violence (/j)

[deathshallbenomore]

they tell you not to write long sentences because otherwise people won’t understand what you have to say but may I interest you in a revolutionary concept such as: punctuation.

[threewaysdivided]

I'm struggling to nail down Tucker’s personality. I need him to act slightly out of character in a way that suggests he's upset but I can't even get him regular

Hmmm… that’s an interesting challenge and I think there’s kind of two questions wrapped up in one. 1) What makes Tucker a Tucker? and 2) How might you convey that a character is upset (especially if that character is Tucker)?

Let’s explore shall we?

Time to talk Tuck’

Disclaimer: I haven’t done a detailed re-watch of DP in quite a while so I may be a little fuzzy on some details, and canon has its share of inconsistencies and rather significant gaps that sort of require a dash of ‘reading into’ to bridge. I’m not trying to codify a definitive ‘One True Tucker’ here, this is just my personal go-to reading of him.

To start with, let’s look at some of Tucker’s obvious surface-level traits:

He’s a technology geek, to the point of naming his PDAs and grieving them when they break.

He’s food-focussed and extremely carnivorous, so much so that he complains about missing meals, can tell meats apart by smell and gets sick if he eats something too vegetable/plant-heavy.

He likes pretty girls and frequently flirts with/ asks new girls out in passing.

That’s something, but those don’t really say much about actual character. As a favourite author of mine might say, not a picture of a life as much as a thumbnail sketch. And in isolation there are a veritable army of creepy, sleezy “Hollywood Nerd” characters with the same traits - peak example being the Big Bang Theory boys, who (while maybe kind of pitiable) I wouldn’t exactly call likeable or sympathetic or good, or even funny. So why isn’t he like this?

What is the soul of a Tucker?

If you’re looking for comparisons to other characters, the main three that come to mind for me are Ron Stoppable from Disney’s Kim Possible, the Wally West version of the Flash from the 2001 Justice League/ JL Unlimited cartoon and I can’t believe I’m saying this for all of Tumblr dot com to see Donkey from Shrek.

Okay let me explain, especially that last one.

To me, Tucker reads as a very sincere and self-actualised character, and that’s part of why he’s lovable. Ron, Flash and (sigh, yes) Donkey have character traits that could be really aggravating or even unlikable (in fact, I would argue that Donkey is intentionally written to aggravate Shrek) but there’s an earnestness to these character that makes them endearing instead of annoying. (Go watch Sideways’ video about the musical structure of Shrek and Donkey’s role in it). There’s also a degree of self-awareness and self-acceptance in all these characters; on some level they (and the narrative) are aware of themselves as flawed- that they aren’t perfect and that people can find them annoying - they don’t necessarily see themselves as the top dog in the room and they sincerely admire and respect other characters around them. That’s probably part of why the Big Bang boys don’t work; they’re not written to have any introspection beyond whiney self-pity and the show has a cynical and slightly mean sense of humour that constantly pits them against each other in insincere games of one-upmanship.

Of the main Team Phantom Trio, Tucker is probably the most sincerely optimistic and self-actualised. Danny gets down on himself a lot in a very self-critical way, and Sam can come across as extremely defensive, but by comparison Tucker seems kind of content to just be who he is.

I have no idea if this was consciously in the minds of the writers but not for nothing I think there’s a reason why Angeline and Maurice Foley are the most normal and unconditionally loving parents we actually see in the show. Sam’s parents are extremely conditional; generously you could say that there’s conflict between their love for her and them having a very narrow/ outdated/ judgemental/ image-focussed model of ‘success’ which she doesn’t fit, but you could equally read them as seeing her more as an extension of themselves/ their reputation/ their ambitions than her own person. Danny, meanwhile, very often reads to me as being the less-favourite Fenton child, even before the portal accident and having to deal with their pervasive hatred toward half of himself. Jazz is extremely gifted and I think she sort of set the standard for Maddie and Jack kids-wise, and at times Jack seems to have wanted a son who would be just like him… and while they do still love Danny, sometimes it feels like it’s in spite of him not being another Jazz or miniature Jack, rather than loving him for being Danny.

You can kind of see it in how the trio react to things - Sam sees a world that rejects her and gets angry at the injustice, sets out to make that world acknowledge her value; Danny sees a world that rejects him and takes it as evidence of his own inadequacy, worries that he needs to change himself in hopes of becoming ‘good enough’. Meanwhile, Tucker seems to have grown up in a household where he was loved and accepted and valued for who he was, unconditionally. Sure, it sucks that the jocks target him, it sucks that people don’t see him as cool, he would like to be more popular, and if a girl wanted to say ‘yes’ he certainly wouldn’t say ‘no’… but at the same time he doesn’t show much interest in forcing other people to change, and he also doesn’t express any significant desire to change himself or stop being the way he is. He’s self-actualised and capable of self-love in a way that the others aren’t, and he brings a needed internal stability to the trio because of it.

Tucker also tends to talk himself up more than he talks himself down. Personally I read him doing that with at least a dash of irony (see that post about how sarcastic positive self-talk is a better habit than self-loathing commentary). But again, that earnestness. I don’t think he sees himself as being as important/ attractive/ special as he puts on… or at the very least he respects other characters to the same degree. Self-actualisation isn’t just about thinking you’re awesome, it’s about accepting yourself and others as you are, flaws included, and of the three Tucker is the most comfortable in his own skin. He’s okay with being goofy and dorky and unapologetically into food and tech, making cheesy quips and geeky references. It also makes it hilariously fitting that a convention-goer being turned into a werewolf-furry during Reality Trip is not at all a deal-breaker for him.

Which isn’t to say that Tucker is a perfect or purely honest, naïve sunshine character. He still lies (even though he’s often bad at it), he has his share of insecurities and phobias (hospitals and sick bays are his kryptonite), he still has moments of selfishness, he can be jealous and stubborn and petty and… yeah a little bit creepy with the girl thing sometimes. Although in defence of the girl thing, we do have to acknowledge that Elmer Hartman’s works have pervasive patterns of sexism and toxic masculinity I mean, penname “Butch”, what did we expect? and, while I think the other DP writers are less egregious and more skilled as storytellers, a lot of their non-Hartman work end up being on shows like Family Guy which have the same sort of issues. It can be hard to distinguish between a character being intentionally written a certain way and the show just thinking that “the swimsuit edition”, “perving in the women’s lockers”, “ha ha he’s in a bra” and “any girl who actually enjoys being feminine is a shallow, capital-B Witch” are acceptable as jokes. And, to Tucker’s credit, he doesn’t usually react angrily or with entitlement when he gets turned down, and he doesn’t get up to any of the kind of creepy techno-geek stalker-ism that Big Bang and similar would pass off as “just boys being boys”. He might not enjoy hearing it but Tucker can respect a firm ‘no’ without taking it too personally (most of the time). This is one of the reasons I think he’s closer to JL/JLU’s Flash!Wally rather than YJS1’s Kid Flash!Wally. I like KF a lot as a character but he can be rather pushy and wilfully obtuse when Miss Martian is very obviously not giving him a yes. Flash meanwhile gets shut down by Big Barda and immediately switches to ‘okay, here’s a flower anyway, let’s be friends’. Like I said in my other post, DP as a show doesn’t treat singlehood/virginity as a deficiency or reason for ridicule (again contrast Big Bang Theory) and that kind of insecure, validation-desperate creepiness doesn’t really appear in his character. Girls are fun and Tucker would like to have fun with them, but if they say no then that’s okay - he’ll keep looking until he finds someone who can properly appreciate how “Too Fine” he is. Plus I’m not actually sure he’d know what to do if he got a ‘yes’ - sometimes it feels like he’s more enamoured with the chase or the idea of having the affections of a girl than with a specific girl or having a girlfriend. (Not helped by underdeveloped female characters, but on the other hand, very convincing teen-just-figuring-this-out behaviour).

That said, things have changed for Tucker and he deals with more than just girl woes during the series. He and Danny are basically honorary brothers (so close that they’re completely comfortable falling asleep on top of each other); they grew up together, shared everything with each other and kept each other company on the bottom rung of the loser ladder. But now Danny has superpowers; he’s a hero, a somebody, a person people want to be around… and Tucker is left wondering whether he brings anything worthwhile anymore and if maybe he’s getting left behind. Tucker’s jealousy/ insecurity over this is a character beat that crops up a couple of times throughout the show - @redrobin-detective wrote a really good post about it which articulates things far better than I could.

Going a little into headcanon territory, I think Danny and Tucker kind of mirror each other in that regard; neither can quite internalise how valuable they themselves are to their friends. Tucker is incredibly talented with technology but, in his eyes, how can that compare to an heiress and a literal superhero? Meanwhile, in Danny eyes, Tucker is smart and skilled, Sam is passionate and driven, and then there’s him; the disappointing 'dumb' Fenton with annoying, inconvenient, life-disrupting freaky powers that he got from a complete accident. They don’t necessarily see themselves clearly, and they tend to downplay their own worth relative to the people they respect.

As for making Tucker feel authentically Tucker-ish in terms of actual writing, dialogue and word-choice, I’m not sure I can give much helpful advice. My approach is to reference the source material and/or fics that captured it really well until I can get an intuitive grasp of his specific patterns. Mystery Meat, One of a Kind, What You Want, Doctors Disorders and King Tuck are all episodes with some good Tucker-centric reference scenes if you don’t have the time for a full watch-through.

Now, with that as a foundation, let’s take a look at question 2.

Portraying that a character is upset

This is a little complicated because ‘upset’ can cover a lot of things, and the reasons why and way in which a character is upset can do a lot to change how they’re behaving.

Are they Afraid? Worried? Depressed? Ashamed? Resentful? Dealing with trauma? Maybe they’re angry, or that anger is hiding something else; a mask for fear or shame or sorrow.

Are they trying to hide that they’re upset, hoping no-one notices because they don’t want to talk about it? Are they secretly hoping someone notices? Maybe they want it to be obvious? Or maybe they don’t care what people see.

All of these things will subtly influence the details but there still are some common signs you can use. As you said, an upset character will often act in ways that are not typical of them - that can feel “out of character”.

Sometimes there are behavioural disruptions, especially if the character is stressed/ distressed. They might be more tired because they’re not sleeping well - maybe because of nightmares or insomnia. They could also show a loss of appetite; forgetting to eat, becoming disinterested in food and only picking at food when it’s given to them.

Some characters respond to upset by withdrawing - they might find excuses to pull away, especially if they’re trying to hide it. Other characters go the opposite direction, overcompensating by becoming too outgoing, bubbly, busy, happy etc. in a “fake it ‘til you make it” kind of way.

Emotional distress can cause a person to seem preoccupied, distracted by their own thoughts or troubles. This can manifest in a lack of interest in their usual hobbies, struggling to pay attention or remember things, or a general lack of focus.

There’s also just general mood stuff, which will depend on the way in which they are upset and whether they’re trying to hide it. A character who is angry/ resentful might get more passive-aggressive or mean in their snarky-ness, make comments under their breath or be outright hostile if they don’t care who knows it. A character who’s upset at themself might make more self-depreciating remarks than usual, be faster to diminish their own achievements. A character who’s anxious might fret noticeably, run through decisions in conversation or try to keep it to themselves but start increasingly checking and cross-checking things. A character who is sad or depressed might show a general tiredness, pessimism, or apathy towards things that they’d usually be enthused or passionate about.

As mentioned, anger can sometimes be a mask for deeper issues so watch out if a character becomes defensive or cross about things - that can be a sign that there’s something else going on that they’re insecure/ ashamed about.

When it comes to Tucker, some things that would ring warning bells for me would be a lack of interest (or outright disinterest) in his usual hobbies, as well as him going from optimistic/sincere to more pessimistic/cynical.

Food especially would be a big sign since not only can appetite-loss be a general sign that someone is struggling, but Tucker in particular is usually very food focussed so it would pull double-duty as a loss of interest. Similarly, he might be distracted to the point of not noticing some big new tech thing that he’d usually be very enthusiastic about, and if he were in a particularly bad mood he could get angry at someone who tries to use it to distract him. Tucker doesn’t always notice every pretty girl on the street but if a whole group were to walk past with nary a look from him then that could signal preoccupation.

If he’s trying to hide that he’s upset, he could overcompensate in the opposite direction - playing up the happy-go-lucky food and tech-focus until he’s almost a caricature of himself in a way that weirds the others out.

Tucker is also a very chatty and bubbly character so him going quiet or withdrawing could also signal something’s wrong (although you could also play this one for comedy Spiderman-style by having everyone freak out worrying that something’s wrong when really he just has a sore throat). If he’s trying to hide it, perhaps he might come up with a plausible excuse, such as burying himself in some big tech project so that he doesn’t have to talk to people or deal with the problem.

Him suddenly becoming very pessimistic, negative or mean in his comments/ sarcasm would a very obvious warning bell that something’s eating at him, and specifically that he’s probably angry/ resentful about whatever it is.

Like I said, the specifics will depend on what he’s upset about and how it’s making him feel.

Tucker is kind of funny like that; he’s simultaneously a very simple character and yet very nuanced in his particular form of sincere simplicity. He wears his heart on his sleeve and this means you can usually get a sense of what he’s feeling even when he tries to hide it.

Hope this helps.

[northern-passage]

Honestly it's been extremely disappointing seeing authors that I followed and supported go and trash mishka. And its extremely hard to listen to you guys preach kindness and support towards IF authors and then see you guys do the exact opposite. And for what? Because of racial stereotypes? Which ones? When she called one of her characters "animalistic" (which she apologized for)? That had more to do with her being a vampire rather than her race so I really hope that isn't what you guys are talking about. Or is it because you feel she hasn't properly researched? If that's the case, I can name 5+ IF books that definitely need to do more research so I hope you're out here "criticizing" them too and not just targeting mishka because of her bigger platform. If you truly feel this why not reach out to mishka and let her know "hey there's a couple questionable things in your story that I think you should fix" you know like a fellow supportive if author should do? Instead of basing on her on your account?And I know this will have some people pissed, but oh well, race and sexuality has very little to do with it and this is coming from a bisexual poc. When finding a new story most people know nothing about the author, let alone their race and sexuality, so the authors that I've seen discrediting mishka and insinuating that her success is due to the fact that she's white and cis are not only straight up assholes but are also completely false. Its become abundantly clear this week that the readers aren't the only reason for this community's toxicity. What makes it more sad is that I started following a lot of you a while ago and totally planned to support you guys once your stories were finished, all this drama sort of just left a sour taste in my mouth. I completely understand some of twc fans are being horrible to you guys and I'm sorry for that but that's doesn't call for you all to shit on mishka and her writing. We all just need to do better

no one is shitting on mishka, literally the whole problem is people like you coming into my and other authors inboxes for no reason other than to throw around accusations and play victim. i have no problem with twc and i don't give a shit if you read it and enjoy it. i don't mind people defending authors either, when it's necessary - i've done it myself. but here is the problem - you people don't know the difference between harassment and criticism. you send harassment, claim it's criticism so you can be absolved of any wrong doing, and then when your faves are actually rightfully criticized, you claim it's harassment so you can ignore it.

yes people are going to be harsher to mishka because she has a huge fucking platform and is making insane amounts of money. of course we should criticize other authors as well and everyone knows that i have! but again there is a huge fucking imbalance here comparing some authors to someone like mishka, who very rarely actually has to take accountability, because again - she has a massive platform, swaths of fans that act as an echo chamber, and people like you running to send annoying ass messages to anyone who so much as breathes in her direction. this is the fucking problem.

at this point you are just being willfully ignorant and choosing to ignore the fact that twc is written by someone with privilege and that people have every right to criticize her for the things she's gotten wrong, especially when it comes to depictions of marginalized communities. people have constantly brought up these criticisms all throughout the fandom, people who are directly affected by the things she has done - telling me to "just message her" is literally so fucking dense. you really think no one else has ever tried that?

no one is out here trying to "cancel" mishka, literally none of us care about that. i'm not going to downplay the harm mishka has caused with the stereotypes portrayed in her depiction of M or the way she poorly handled A's asexuality as well as the countless other things that people far more qualified than me have brought up before - i don't think mishka is willfully malicious, and i don't think she's responsible for any of the annoying shit you all make other IF authors deal with. it's great that she has apologized for some of her mistakes, i do appreciate that.

as for today, she never should have had to apologize for this shit.

what was being talked about was never actually mishka herself. you all just purposefully misconstrued people's posts to make it seem like she was a victim so you could come harass us - because you all just love doing that so much.

mishka really had to take time out of her day to come on tumblr dot com to apologize to authors because of YOU. none of us asked for an apology from her, none of us expected anything from her in regards to this because it's not her fault. we simply wanted people like you to fucking leave us alone! and you can't even do that, not even after mishka asks you to. at this point i don't think it has anything to do with her or twc i think it's just a bunch of you itching to be rude and nasty as fuck to people online and you use mishka as an excuse to do that.

fucking log off and go read any other book besides twc. i'm so fucking tired of talking about those books - which i did enjoy at one point! but not anymore after all the shit you people constantly send me and the way you all act and treat others in this community, all in the name of an author who disavows your vile fucking behavior and wants nothing to do with you.

you think it's extremely disappointing for you? how about all the authors who have to grapple with the fact that there are readers who have no respect for us as people, don't give a shit about our feelings, constantly harass us and feel entitled to our work and our characters? how about mishka who has to come on here and apologize for her readers and their awful fucking behavior, and see all the messages sent on "her behalf"? literally get the fuck out of here.

[starlightshore]

anon i appreciate you trying to at least calm down and talk to me at least a little, even all good will was thrown out with insulting and making more assumptions.

firstly: learn to give people respect otherwise no one is going to give you the time of the day. i’ve been way more patient, nice, and kind to you for hearing you out instead of blocking you. except, this all started because i did block you. i get wanting to find out why, being upset over it or whatever, but you really need to understand it’s not okay to go to someone who’s blocked you. its like, i gave you a restraining order, by then you should know to leave me alone right?

but yeah i wanna clear up your points cause again, you keep assuming things? or taking them to be more grandiose than they are at least.

i blocked your original account and then i blocked the original message. if there’s another person who was insulting me than honestly that just kinda proves my point that i was worried your(?) fans would come at me??? thus the block.

i already explained i don’t remember the original comments and that wasn’t the reason i blocked originally anyway.

its not my fault the post got notes???? it’s tagged with “personal stuff” where i do all my rambling. i hate posting in the main tag cause i like keeping to myself esp with my history with the fandom. it being tagged with “undertale theory” is just so it’s easier for my followers to find, that’s hardly the same thing as putting it in the main tag and advertising it everywhere??? i mean, granted, i ain’t got shit consistent, but “theory” is an easy way to search on my blog for posts of that sort. hell, you can see i used a screenshot with my flux. the post was made at god knows what hour as i was watching the no mercy run and having fun doing my commentary. that’s hardly something i would intentionally share with the intent of gaining traction.

I (mostly!) keep to my own lane and mind my own damn business. i don’t want my posts being spread around tumblr and i do  have a fear people who (like you!) are going to harass me over the smallest thing.

i don’t know how to tell you this but it’s not rude to block people. blocking ISN’T an insult, it’s not an act of aggression, it’s not the end of the world. we’re on fucking tumblr dot com buddy. i block porn bots every other week. if someone is rude to me, if i find some stranger’s content annoying or just not my cup of tea? i can block! it’s called cultivating both your audience and your feed. if someone angers you? you can either talk it out or just block, it’s never worth it to insult and waste your time bothering them. the beheavior you’ve shown today is seriously unhealthy.

if you find me rude that’s fine, i understand how being blocked suddenly can be scaring or upsetting but i also understand this is, again, Tumblr. I am fully aware i have hot takes or make specific content that would put someone off. It’s not inherently personal if you get blocked, please get over it. we’re both wasting our time because you refuse to give me any form or respect and I know i’m talking to a wall at this point.

i formally request you leave my blog and stop thinking about me. don’t even send me another ask, i’m not posting this to get a response. i’m posting this because i’m worried for you tbh. it’s honestly creepy at this point how much time you put to trying to degrade me, like, are you okay? is there something else going on here? do you need someone to talk to? not me obviously, you clearly don’t “respect” me after how many times you’ve told me that. i recommend opening up with your feelings to those around you and try to find what you’re actually mad at.

[lovevejoy]

hello tumblr dot com welcome to eve is bored and tired of seeing the same stuff about characters on twitter so she decided to make a big rant about it :D

(( dream smp! this is all roleplay! ))

the universe does not revolve around tommy

tommy is not the "main character," tommy is not the reason behind every characters actions. watching his pov doesn't always put him in the right. stop villainizing characters because they don't agree with him or think their motives work against his.

like... the amount of times i've seen people justify their hate for certain characters because of how they perceived their interactions with tommy is mind blowing. and i get it, a lot of people watching mainky from tommy's pov, but when you look at a character and say "oh! that's tommy's best friend" or "oh! that's his mentor!" then you need to start seeing it a different way

and i'm not talking about characters like dream or jack, who are bad people for the things they've done and planned to do with tommy. obviously dream manipulating to tommy to the point of him considering jumping into lava makes him a horrible person

i mean the characters who are being... themselves? who have their own separate motives for doing things and personalities that aren't an extension of tommyinnit? i think the main characters that are hated because of this mindset is wilbur, phil, and tubbo. wilbur did not start the elections to "put tommy in his place," nor did he blow up l'manburg because "he was jealous of tommy." wilbur did not spend his time as president carefully manipulating tommy and doing everything just to put him down. phil did not "leave his son in exile and not check up on him" or "betray tommy to work with technoblade." tubbo's character is a thousands times more than "tommy's best friend" or "evil because he exiled tommy."

these are complex characters with their own issues! wilbur was struggling with paranoia, anxiety, and likely depression during the time of his presidency, but trying to stay strong for his people and keep a straight face. the least thing he's worried about is jealousy towards tommy. a literal civil war happens between tubbo and fundy and wilbur realizes they need a real way to show who has authority so the people will actually listen to them. on top of that, wilbur's personality is generally pretty snarky and playful? him calling tommy a child, who generally retorts with calling him a dickhead, isn't "trying to belittle him and make him feel useless"

(pogtopia wilbur is a different story that i won't get into here because then i'll never shut up but basically: he didn't blow up manburg because of tommy and if you think that then you're wrong.)

phil? phil isn't even tommy's canonical father! of course he's going to side with techno, his closest friend on the server, to destroy a nation that has done nothing but evil in his eyes. he has an even more valid reason for blowing it up than techno does. but the amount of times i've seen his character summarized to "tommy's bad father" is just ignoring everything his character has said and done? i don't think he's the best father based off what he did to wilbur/ghostbur, but if you're gonna blame him for bad parenting at least don't use tommy as the reason

and finally tubbo, who has dealt with so much shit it's a miracle his character is still so... himself. but this fandom neeeeds to stop summing him up as "tommy's best friend!" or marking him as evil because of the whole exile thing. i know that was an early s2 thing, but i still see people talking about it occasionally. tubbo is an independent character who was forced into presidency way too young while being manipulated by quackity and dream at the same time. dream threatens war, he's scared, he has to do what's best for the county. he is his own character! he's not an extension of tommy!

obviously there are more characters the fandom views at with this mindset, but those are the three biggest i've noticed and the ones that annoy me the most. so yeah, look through multiple lenses when hating on characters! no character's first thought is "i wonder how this will affect tommy" when they do something

that was my rant woo remember again this is all pretty lighthearted and also a minecraft roleplay :]

[oddlyhale]

(This mostly feels like an online diary entry, so forgive the spillage of thoughts that could become a jumbled rambling mess.)

Still speaking as somebody who's still fairly new to the RWBY fandom and still learning new things every day via RWBYtwt and here on RWBYtumblr, and just talking with fans who've been with the show for as long as its been airing, it sometimes feels like I've already been here for years.

It's incredible how I learn how entirely toxic and immature the fandom chooses to be than just grow up and accept the flaws that their favourite show has. Even the ugliest flaws that they refuse to fix and has hindered them for years.

To be honest, I've always been a critical person. Even for shows that I absolutely love without question, I won't blind myself to the flaws they have. I don't like to be treated like I'm an idiot, so I assume shows would also not want to treat their viewers like they're idiots that can't pinpoint the problems in the writing or animation.

But what I may say is that the biggest reason why I even started this RWDE Tumblr is because of Twiins and her sister, Critter. I really loved hearing their opinions on episodes, what could be fixed and their video essays on what to do/what not to do in writing. It hits different when you're hearing it from people who've been watching RWBY from the very beginning. It's like they're veterans and I'm just this peewee still trying to figure out how the hell aura works.

Actually, I've always been a fan of people who make content that involves looking into TV shows with a critical eye. It makes me think about how I should look at scenes and characters more closely and familiarize myself with how they should've/shouldn't have behaved or how a scene was bad.

I was so sad to see Twiins leave, but I really hope she's happier doing what she likes now without the fandom leeching on her. I can't explain how disappointed I felt when I saw the screencaps of fans being dickheads to her, and even more disappointed to see how bigger RWBY content creators behave. It really did cement into my mind that it's all just some tightknit bro-club that likes to harass people who criticize them for anything they do. It left a bad taste in my mouth at how childish that the adult fans can be. I can understand how frustrating the tweeny fans can be when they have their keyboards and tapping away hate, but I can't find it in myself to be angry at them. Annoyed, but they're stupid kids with stupid motives, they'll grow up and realize how stupid that was. I hope.

(And anyway, these bigger content creators that love RWBY should be putting a better influence on how to behave and how not to be such a toxic bunch to anybody who disagrees. Accept that flaws exist in the show and it's OK to point them out when you feel unhappy with them. It doesn't mean you hate the show - you do like the show, but you just happen to have a big brain and can point out something's wrong in the writing. That's how the world spins.)

Even if this behaviour hasn't been hitting me, I have seen this very behaviour elsewhere. Especially in Twitter - oh how twitter dot com can be the actual cesspool of hatred. It makes Tumblr look angelic.

It's very snake-like on Twitter, as though you should be more than careful to not wake the beast, or else you'll be slammed and eaten up, only to be spat out and left in a twisty mess of "why?" And the fans act fast - a little too fast. With how fast they react to "bad takes" from people who were displeased with things in the show, it did numbers in my head at how the fanbase has truly shrunk in popularity. If it's that easy to find people you hate, then well, I guess this show really is bleeding out like a stuck pig, and the blood is of the fans that leave as quick as they came.

But still, even if the popularity shrunk, it still has the most rabid ones still around, and they rear their little heads more than usual. A mean girls club, the frat club that requires your pain for their pleasure. That seemed to be what the fanbase was towards Twiins and Critter. Just waiting for the next person or existing person to say ONE MORE bad thing about RWBY, and suddenly it's hunting season.

And just to throw in here - even as I was watching RWBY for the first time without context, yes my brain was turned off as I watched the volumes. And I still felt everything frying in my head because nothing was flowing correctly in the episodes and my brain went ouch. I can legit forgive the shit and turn my brain off for the show if anything was fluent and not so stupidly written. But no, I had to turn my brain back on. Because I don't like being treated like an idiot.

I hope nothing but the best for Twiins, and I will still support her and her sister. They both deserve better and deserve the best pizza they've ever had with new or current shows they watch.

Anyways, I am glad that the encouragement from these YT critics gave me the courage to do my own RWDE blog. It's awesome to meet new people who also feel the same, and I love reading/listen to hot takes or new things I'm still opened to learning.

And yeah, the news of RT selling out made me laugh, but it still sucks knowing they'd eventually lose.

[gukyi]

do you want me (dead?) | jjk

summary: jeon jungkook, quidditch extraordinaire and overall pain in your ass, is the one problem you can’t seem to solve, even with years of being the school’s advice columnist under your belt. that is, until you begin to receive letters from someone under the alias of bambi, requesting help with confessing to a crush, and suddenly, your relationship with jeon jungkook takes a turn for... the worst?

{hogwarts!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader word count: 11k genre: fluff! just fluff !!! warnings: this may or may not be absolute self-indulgent trash. a/n: ha! you thought it would be like 20k, you were wrong. and honestly, i’m kind of glad it’s the same length as the rest of the sorted series. you know, for uniformity. anyway, enjoy this flaming garbage dumpster pile of a jungkook e2l fic. have i ever written anything more self indulgent? no? also, happy 2 years to gukyi dot tumblr dot com!!!!

Dear Y/N,

I need your help! I’ve liked this boy for a couple months now, and he’s friends with some of my friends, but any time he comes up to me I run away because I don’t know what to do. Whenever I’m around him I clam up and can’t say more than a couple of words before chickening out and running away. He probably thinks I hate him. Do you have any advice on how to tell him that I like him?

Yours truly, An awkward third-year

Dear An Awkward Third-Year,

Don’t be afraid! I’m sure we’ve all been there with the person we’re crushing on. The nervousness is totally natural. But the only way that he’s going to know how you feel is if you take initiative and tell him! I obviously can’t advise you too personally, but if you dance around the topic, you might confuse him! The worst thing that he can do is tell you no, but the only way to know if he feels the same way is if you tell him. And if you’re scared to just blurt it out, figure out some common interests and just worm it into the conversation. Don’t get too hung up over a boy, but do let him know how you feel! You may get some really great results. Good luck!

Yours truly, Y/N

The letters are dropped off at the front of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall every Thursday at exactly seven in the evening, right after you finish eating dinner but before you resign yourself to your dormitory for the night. They’re always neatly packaged, pushed into a nice little stack and wrapped together with a long string of tweed. It’s just enough time for you to read them all, select the three or four that will make it into the next issue of the school’s weekly newspaper, which prints on Sundays.

“I hate your owl,” Yuju says one Thursday night, feeding it bits of corn she’s plucking off of the cob on her plate. “He acts too much like my uncle’s nineteen-year-old golden retriever and not enough like an actual owl.” Her fingers drift away from its mouth and towards the side of its head, scratching it as it coos happily, curling into her touch.

“Why do you think I named him Dog?” You deadpan, unwrapping the stack of letters in front of you. “Stop feeding him corn. You know that the butter makes him throw up.”

“All the more reason to,” Yuju says, plucking off a couple more bits for Dog to wolf down before you actually begin to berate him. Half the reason he even lingers after dropping off the weekly papers, instead of flying off like the rest of the owls, is because both you and Yuju seem to have developed quite the soft spot for him. She moves on from the corn and to the tortilla on her plate, which she says is part of a deconstructed taco. It, in total honesty, looks like a very small, very measly, very insignificant Mexican buffet.

“I hate you,” she mumbles under her breath. It’s unclear if the words are directed at you, her best friend, or Dog, the owl with what she deems is the ‘most ridiculous name for an owl in the history of wizardry as the homo sapiens species knows it’, which is a bit of an overstatement if you do say so yourself. “I hate you and your dumbass name.”

“Stop, he can understand you,” you say, reaching over to cover Dog’s ears. Dog hoots unsuspectingly, looking as pleased as ever as he pecks at the tortilla in Yuju’s hands. “And stop feeding him. Pretty soon he’s going to stop eating the wholesale beetles I buy him because he’s been too exposed to the high quality deliciousness of the Great Hall’s cafeteria meals. It’s like dessert for him.”

“Fine,” Yuju says with a sigh, letting Dog nip the last piece of tortilla in her hand before shooing him off. He flies away with ease, but not before he sends a glare your way for limiting his Great Hall dinner intake. Great. Now not only will your owl begin refusing the healthy, hearty, cheap-for-the-quantity wholesale beetles, but he will also hate the hand that feeds it. Ungrateful feathered sausage.

Turning back to the reason that Dog was even being hand-fed the equivalent of McDonald’s milkshakes in the first place, you begin to shuffle through the stack of letters for the week. It’s not a very sizable stack, but that’s because it’s still the beginning of the year, and no one’s really figured out how the whole advice column thing works yet. Unlike you, a seasoned expert. It’s most of the same stuff, first and second years fretting over the workload and not knowing how to make friends or how to handle the professors. Typical beginning-of-the-year worries. You’ll know how to answer these with ease.

Yuju peers over to read some of the ones you’ve discarded, lying scattered on the deep mahogany of the table. She says it’s because sometimes she can offer valuable and indispensable advice, but you know it’s just because she’s nosy as hell and can’t help but look into other people’s business, even if they are anonymous.

“Wish I had this sort of thing when I was a baby first year,” she comments to herself. “Instead I just turned to you for all of my daily inconveniences.”

“Yeah, which is exactly why I started this column,” you remind her, memories of her flopping onto her bed in the dorm and groaning about all of her problems flickering through your mind. You’d never tell Yuju this, but your late night chats became the reason you approached the head of the school newspaper in your third year with a suggestion for an advice column.

You fish through the pockets of your robe, hunting for a spare pen so you can begin to formulate some responses when you hear loud stomping and obnoxious laughter coming from the entrance of the Great Hall. Glancing over from where you’re seated at the Slytherin table with Yuju by your side, you spot four boys clambering into the Great Hall, one with a particularly familiar tuft of bouncy, brown hair.

“Speaking of daily inconveniences,” you say sarcastically, eyes rolling like the magical night sky above your heads is mocking you. You don’t think you’ve done anything mean recently, so you can’t possibly imagine why karma has it out for you.

Except maybe it doesn’t matter, because Jeon Jungkook defies all laws of the universe and its natural system of rewards for good deeds and punishments for bad ones. All so he can exist in this very timeline, in this very location, in this very lifetime. Which so happens to perfectly coincide with your own.

Jeon Jungkook saunters into the Great Hall, footsteps heavy and jarring, just so he can remind everyone that he’s made an appearance. He laughs like a roar of thunder, forceful and purposefully. Exists obnoxiously, without regrets or second guesses.

“Maybe if you keep your head down and put your robe over yourself he won’t notice you—no, he’s coming over here.” Yuju says, making you nearly slam your head on the table in exasperation. “I tried,” she tells you helpfully, not sounding like she tried very much at all.

“Working on next week’s Witches’ & Wizard’s Counsel?” Jungkook asks instead of a hello, like any normal, non-annoying person who’s just trying to make casual conversation and not pointed and directed disturbances would do.

He snatches up one of the pieces of paper spread out on the table before you to inspect it. You reach out to wrestle him for it back, but not only is Jungkook across the table, he is also standing and taller than you anyway. “Hey, this person needs some advice for trying out for their house’s Quidditch team,” he says with a smug grin lacing his features, like he thinks he’s onto something. “Maybe I should give them a few pointers.”

“Give that back, Jeon Jungkook,” you say, reaching over the table with grabby hands to wrestle him for it back. He dodges your nimble yet crab claw-like fingers with ease. “You know that’s private.”

“It’s anonymous!” Jungkook cries defensively, even if he does cave and hand it back. “Besides, you’ll end up publishing it in the newspaper anyway. What’s another person taking a look at it, huh, Pumpkin?”

“Ugh,” you say, tilting your head back in exasperation. You swear, Jeon Jungkook takes off five years of your life just by existing within close proximity of you. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

Jungkook chuckles. “You got to go to Hogsmeade for the very first time independently, nearly bought out Honeydukes’s Pumpkin Pasties stash, and then proceeded to vomit it up on the sidewalk two hours later after how many of them? Nine? Ten?” He asks, goading you on, and like a fool, you engage in it.

“That was four years ago!” You hiss.

“Doesn’t make it any less funny,” Jungkook admits. Next to you, Yuju’s on the verge of breaking out into giggles. “I’ll drop the nickname if you really want me to, Pumpkin, but I think it’s cute. It makes you different.”

“You’re the only person who calls me that,” you groan.

“It could be worse,” Yuju pipes up unhelpfully. “You could have vomited up a bunch of Cockroach Clusters, instead.”

Jungkook chuckles.

“You are not helping!” You glare at Yuju, who merely laughs. Seven years together and she’s never truly grasped the sensation of pure aggravation that you feel whenever a certain brown-haired Ravenclaw is nearby. “Why are you here, Jeon? Besides to give me a headache.”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Jungkook teases. You are on the verge of shoving Yuju’s half-eaten corn on the cob right up his nose. “What, am I not allowed to say hello to some of my favorite Slytherins out of the goodness of my heart?” He places a hand over his chest, mock offended you’d ever take a jab at his not-so-innocent intentions.

You frown. You don’t think Jungkook’s ever done anything out of the pure, unadulterated, so-called goodness of his heart. You should know. You write for the newspaper. There’s always fine print, always provisos and loopholes.

“I just came to check in on you,” he says innocently. You narrow your eyes. “Fine, and to remind you of my undying love.”

“My God,” you say, closing your eyes out of sheer annoyance. “If it doesn’t die soon, I think I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Harsh, pumpkin,” Jungkook says with a pout. “Never met someone so resistant to someone willing to devote their whole life to yours. Thought you were supposed to be all encouraging about love and nostalgia. Seems like your kind of thing.”

“You don’t know what kinds of things are my things,” you tell him defensively. It’s as if he can read you like a fucking board book. Have you always been so transparent? Or is it just him?

“But I want to know.” He winks for good measure. Your brain makes a mental note to steal a few beans from the stash of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans that Yuju keeps hidden in her trunk, so you can vomit later. “Sure you don’t want my help with that Quidditch letter?”

“I’m positive,” you deadpan. “I wouldn’t ask you for help even if Lord Voldemort returned.”

“Good thing he won’t, right?” Jungkook grins, all teeth and crinkled eyes. Someone from the Gryffindor table calls his name. What a goddamn shame your conversation’s been cut short. “I’ll catch you around, Pumpkin,” he says as he begins to bound off, always a fully-charged battery of a human being. “Don’t forget about me, won’t you?”

You couldn’t even if you tried.

Jungkook leaps off to interact with people that don’t see red whenever they speak to him as Yuju mutters something about how much she wants to destroy the Ravenclaw quidditch team this season.

You look down at the letter Jungkook had mindlessly picked up.

Dear Y/N,

I really want to try out for my House’s Quidditch team, but I’m too scared! I know that they’re in need of a Seeker, but I’m Muggleborn and I’ve only ever been on a broom during Flying Class. My friends say that I have a good eye for small things and that I should go for it, but I’m afraid that everyone will laugh at me because I don’t have any experience. I’ve tried reading books and watching other people play, but I don’t think it’s helping. And every time I try to get a broom to practice on the field, I see people who are really good at it, like Jeon Jungkook, and I chicken out. Do you think I’ll ever be as good at it as he is?

Yours Truly, A Seeker Hopeful

You groan. The bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall laughs at you.

Here’s the thing about Jeon Jungkook: he wasn’t always such a nuisance.

Or at least, giving him the benefit of the doubt, you assume he wasn’t always such a nuisance. Whether or not he’s always been this sleazy and unbearable will forever remain a mystery to you, but you can say with certain confidence that ever since you met him in the third year, he’s been nothing but a complete and total bother.

You love your best friend dearly, but Yuju joining the Quidditch team in your third year was the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. Because Quidditch equates to Quidditch friends, and Quidditch friends equates to a certain insufferable Ravenclaw seeker.

The whole point of the formation of the universe is that everything that has ever happened since the very fabric of time began has led up to this moment. Which, in theory, seems pretty goddamn astounding. The universe has twisted, turned, morphed, metamorphosized over the past fourteen billion years just so you could be right here, right now.

Except theory is always more idealized in reality, and there aren’t enough words in the English language to express how overwhelmingly bothered you are by the fact that it took the universe fourteen billion years, fourteen billion goddamn years, for you to end up next to Jeon Jungkook.   

But hey, maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t always such a nuisance.

“Have you guys noticed something different about Hufflepuff this year?” Yeeun asks one Thursday night as you’re gathered in the Slytherin common room. She’s letting Yuju give her a haircut, sitting patiently on a wooden stool as Yuju flitters and flutters about her, the pair of scissors in her hand leaving little paths of blonde hair in their wake. “They’re getting more aggressive.”

“Aggressive how?” Yuju asks. Her eyes widen when the scissors move a bit too quickly, chopping off more hair than they can chew. Yuju glares at you—keep your mouth shut. Hair grows back.

“Not like, violent aggressive. But Quidditch season started like, a week ago and yesterday I was eating my lunch in the Great Hall when a herd of Puffs wearing full Puff memorabilia—scarves and everything—stormed in and screamed, ‘WE’LL HUFF, AND WE’LL PUFF, AND WE’LL BLOW YOU OFF YOUR BROOMS!’ And quite frankly, it was so much Puff Pride that I was actually scared,” Yeeun recalls.

Yuju chuckles to herself, shaking her head. “I guess we’ll just have to prove them wrong, eh? Next time we play Puff, I’ll make sure that they don’t get a single Quaffle through the hoops.”

“You better,” Yeeun huffs.

“You gonna watch?” Yuju asks. “It’s your duty as a rising seventh-year. Can’t believe you’re gonna be seventeen next year, huh?”

“Can’t believe you guys are graduating this year,” Yeeun says in response, frown lacing her features. You have to agree with her—though you only know Yeeun from house activities, she’s definitely become one of your favorite people. Alongside Yuju, of course.

The chatter continues as Yuju dutifully snips away at Yeeun’s hair, making sure it’s just above shoulder-length like Yeeun likes it. You filter through the letters you received for the weekly column, still stacked neatly wrapped up in tweed—the Great Hall was serving tomato soup for dinner, otherwise you would have read through them all during supper, beginning to narrow down the small pile to the three or four you’ll keep for the newspaper.

“Hey! Bambi’s sent another one,” you exclaim happily, recognizing the scrawl of Dear Y/N instantly, always so distinct. Or maybe that’s because Bambi’s been sending you letters since the beginning of your sixth year, so you’d be a fool not to recognize his handwriting, or at least the way he writes Dear Y/N, by now.

Yuju grunts in acknowledgement of your exclamation at the same time that Yeeun, baby, sixth-year, pureblood Yeeun says, “What’s a Bambi?”

“Oh, the name of a character from an old Muggle film,” you explain, knowing that any more technicalities will confuse her. “He’s one of the regulars I get for my column. He’s been sending me nice letters ever since the beginning of last year.”

“Aw, maybe he’s got a crush on you!” Yeeun immediately exclaims, making Yuju jerk away from her hair sharply, on the verge of bursting into laughter.

You shake your head. “I doubt it, since anonymity isn’t the best way to confess feelings. But he’s sweet and sometimes won’t even ask me for advice—just sends me a note telling me that I’m working hard for the column and doing a good job. Little pick-me-ups, things like that. It’s really nice of him, actually. I don’t normally get thanked for my advice column.”

“That’s bullshit,” Yeeun grumbles. “You deserve every newspaper award in the world for all the work you put into that thing.”

“Everyone else who contributes to the newspaper works just as hard as I do,” you remind her. You glance down at Bambi’s note, neat cursive handwriting resting gently on the paper, like it’ll fly away like dandelion wisps if you blow at it. “But it is nice to get stuff from him, sometimes.”

“Y/N likes this anonymous Bambi more than she likes us,” Yuju jokes to Yeeun, finishing up the final touches. Yeeun’s hair, as always, looks wonderful. Yuju has a talent for this kind of thing. She motions to the paper in your hand. “What’s it say?”

Dear Y/N,

Over the past couple of weeks I have come to a life-ruining, world-ending, universe-collapsing conclusion: I have a crush. I mean, I suppose I’ve had this crush for a while now, but I only just recently realized it. Anyway, to put it into less melodramatic terms, there’s this girl that I really like. Like, stupid like. It’s kind of ridiculous. All of my friends tease me about it. But I just think that she’s funny and beautiful and creative and witty and a long list of other positive adjectives. Only problem is (here’s the earth-shattering part): I have no idea how to tell her. And I’m afraid that it might just slip out accidentally and then my chance for a grand romantic gesture will be ruined. Any suggestions?

Yours truly, Bambi

“Aw, he’s got a crush!” You exclaim happily, fawning over his words.

“Lemme see,” Yuju demands, making grabby hands for the paper. You hand it over to her, and she inspects it like a textbook passage she doesn’t understand and has to reread. “Um, if you ask me, personally, this is less like a crush and more like complete infatuation. Just saying.”

“And?” You ask defensively.

“You have never been in a relationship before,” Yuju says, looking you dead in the eyes with her big brown ones. She punctuates each word with a head jerk for emphasis.

“So what? He’s asking me for advice on a school crush. This is Hogwarts—relationships built here aren’t meant to last. We’re teenagers. We don’t know what real love is.”

Yuju rolls her eyes as she hands Yeeun a mirror for her to see her new haircut. “But from the looks of it, it sounds like he does. Maybe it is just a schoolboy crush, but Bambi, whoever the hell he is, seems pretty dedicated to it. You ever thought about that?”

You pout. This conversation is going nowhere, and by going nowhere, you mean quickly morphing into reasonable yet angry comments directed at you.

Yuju sighs, voice getting softer. She can never stay mad at you for long. “You should stop being so jaded all of the time. You’re an advice columnist, for God’s sake, Y/N. Look on the bright side.” Yeeun beams a thank you at Yuju for her haircut. “Sometimes, love lasts.”

Quidditch has never been your thing. Activities that involve flying have never been your thing. The idea of whizzing around a field fifty feet in the air as bugs fly into your face while sitting on a broomstick makes all parts of you uncomfortable, from your brain to your… lower regions.

Long story short, athletic sports that don’t involve two feet almost always on the ground aren’t really your thing. But you’ll be damned if you don’t support your best friend and your house until the day you perish.

Which is exactly why you’re sitting in the bleachers of the Quidditch field in the middle of a very strangely warm November afternoon, the sun beating down on your black robes, absorbing as much heat as physically possible. Despite it being near winter, the effects of Muggle-made (and wizard-made, but wizards don’t like taking blame for the slow heat death of the only inhabitable planet within the known parameters of space) climate change reign, and you shrug off your heavy robes to leave only your undershirt and tie on within five minutes of being outside.

Yuju’s dragged you out to one of her informal, house-inclusive Quidditch get-togethers (not serious enough to be a practice, but not light enough to be deigned hanging out) under the guise of moral support, leaving you sat pathetically on the bleachers as your best friend and her Quidditch buddies zip around above you. They’re tossing around the Quaffle like a strange, very mobile game of Hot Potato.

It’s the perfect time for you to get your homework done, the ambient sounds of “Hey, Clark, think fast!” and “You almost hit my goddamn nose!” the optimal background noise for peak productivity. And you’d never admit it to Yuju (because it would mean that you actually enjoy sitting out in the sun being boring), but the empty bleachers make pretty decent tables.

You’re switching back and forth from your completely and utterly incomprehensible arithmancy homework and edits for the newspaper—other sections, of course—when you hear the familiar sound of a broom coming to a halt in front of (or more above) you, the sound cutting right through the air and wind. You have half of a mind to not even look up, suspecting it’s just Yuju to complain about the fifth-year Gryffindor Beaters she hates, when—

“Pumpkin, come to watch me?”

You should have known better. It’s no surprise that Jeon Jungkook’s here today—he’d never pass up the opportunity to flaunt his Quidditch skills. Your presence is just a bonus.

“Yes, Jungkook,” you deadpan. A frown etches itself across your lips, partially because of the person you’re talking to, and partially because said person is blocking your view of the sun, which you would otherwise stare into so as to never have to lay eyes on Jeon Jungkook again. “Out of the dozen or so people on that field, one of whom being my best friend, you are the person I’m here to watch.”

Jungkook grins, and though his face is shadowed, the rays of the sun cast some sort of deceivingly angelic glow around his figure. “Always knew you had a soft spot for me.”

“Yeah, no one I’d rather knock off their broom than you,” you mutter to yourself, just loud enough for Jungkook to hear. You’re not sure if he’s still paying attention, but if he is, he doesn’t say anything.

“Jeon! Stop schmoozing and get over here!”

Both you and Jungkook turn to the source of the voice, another one of the Ravenclaws out at practice who’s waiting atop their broom for Jungkook to get off his ass and do what he came here to do.

Jungkook grins guiltily. “Looks like they need me, pumpkin. Watch this next trick, it’s for you!”

Before you have the chance to remind Jungkook of how little you care for him and his tricks, he flies off, leaving an empty pathway of air in his wake. You don’t know what he’s got up his sleep, but if it’s anything like the other tricks he’s pulled over the five years that you’ve known him, you know better than to wait and find out.

Someone else comes to a halt beside you. It’s Yuju. “What was Jeon Jungkook doing talking to you?”

You frown. “What do you think?”

Yuju chuckles. “Right. I forgot he was going to be here. You didn’t have to stay if you knew he was here, you know.”

“You kidding? Of course I’m gonna come and cheer on my best friend,” you say, shrugging it off. Yuju’s worth the suffering that Quidditch brings. “Go Yuju!”

“You’re the best,” Yuju says with a grin. You shrug. You know you are.

“Hey, pumpkin! Check this out!”

Jeon Jungkook calls your name at the perfect time—just enough time for you to actually follow his directions and look towards him. Someone on the far side of the field tosses a small, non-active Snitch in your general direction, and Jungkook tears after it, reaching the puny thing in just under a couple of seconds, a quick flip of his broom as he catches it in his right hand. You don’t have enough time—or willpower, for that matter—to look away before he’s turning his head to you, blowing you an obnoxious kiss just for good measure.

“Christ,” Yuju snorts from next to you. “He’ll never give up, will he?”

You sigh. Maybe in your dreams, he might.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, maybe I should give you a bit more context to the aforementioned life-shattering crush I seem to have developed. We do actually know each other—I’m not just sadly pining after her from a distance—but we’re not exactly friends. Maybe acquaintances at best, but even that term might be pushing it. I’m just not sure how to tell her how I feel without coming off too strong, or scaring her. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, that’s the last thing I’d want. What should I do?

Yours truly, Bambi

Dear Bambi,

Hey, at least you both know each other! That’s a step in the right direction. I don’t know if this is universal, or if I’m the only one who thinks it’s decent advice, but maybe you should try getting to know her as a friend before you dive into the romantic stuff. That way, she’ll feel more comfortable around you and the air will be less awkward in general. If she’s not interested in just getting to know you better, then you’ll probably have a pretty good measure of whether or not she might feel the same romantically. Good luck!

Yours truly, Y/N

“Was Arithmancy homework always this difficult?” Yeeun asks, madly flipping through the textbook in front of her. It’s a small, old thing, notes scribbled in the margins from the three older brothers she has that took the course before her, passed down their sage wisdom and little doodles to her in the form of all of their beat-up textbooks. “I have no idea what’s happening in class right now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, dipping your quill into the small blue jar of ink at the edge of the library table you’re seated at, charmed to refill automatically. “It gets worse.”

Yeeun groans. She takes one more look at the work in front of her and begins to pack up her belongings.

“Hey, where you going?” You ask. “You said you had the afternoon free to study.”

“I do. But I’m on the verge of breaking down because I don’t understand anything so I’m going to go talk to the Professor to see if he can help me and if he can’t, then I will be hiding in the Potions closet crying. So you’ll know where I am,” Yeeun says as calmly as she can muster. She looks perfectly fine on the outside, always so put-together and polished, but after knowing her for so long, you know that if you just tapped on her shoulder her entire façade would fall to the floor and shatter into a million pieces. So you don’t push it.

“Okay,” you tell her. “Be safe. Don’t drink anything in the Potions closet because that might make you worse at Arithmancy.”

“Got it,” Yeeun says, shooting you a finger gun before heading out of the library.

You’re left in silence, struggling to draft an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts which is due at the end of the week, when someone else plops down in Yeeun’s place.

Much to your surprise, it’s Jungkook. And it doesn’t look like he’s here to bother you—or at least, that’s what you hope, considering he’s got his own schoolwork with him, spreading out comfortably as he begins to work, practically ignorant of your presence.

Now that you think about it, this is how it should have always been. The two of you, coexisting comfortably and without disturbances, keeping to yourselves and only talking if necessary. But now that Jungkook’s here, right in front of you, and he’s not saying a word, it leaves you with a prickle on your skin. A sense of peculiarity, because in the five years you’ve known him Jungkook has never been one to sit down and stay quiet.

“Can I help you with something?” You blurt, unable to keep your mouth shut when Jungkook’s sitting right there.

He looks up at you, a knowing glint in his eye, and smiles. “No. Just doing my work, pumpkin.”

It’s aggravating how calm he is. He knows he’s being just annoying enough to get under your skin, but you can’t really shout at him without seeming like the villain.

He’s always one step ahead of you.

“Well,” you stammer, watching as his lips curve upwards into a smirk, “can you do your work somewhere else? Please?”

“Why?” Jungkook pushes. “I’m being quiet. I’m keeping to myself. What’s the harm?”

You sneer, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “Are you sure that I can’t help you with anything?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Well, if you must ask, I was wondering if you were up for studying together sometime. Since you haven’t magicked me out of my seat, I’m assuming you don’t mind me actually being here.”

You sputter, trying to defend yourself. Of course you mind him being here. You mind him being within a twenty-feet radius of you. You were only asking because it’s very unlikely that Jeon Jungkook would just plop down in the seat across from you in the library, pull out his books, and begin to study without a single word. Especially if he was across from you. “W—Well, why on earth would I study with you anyway? What am I getting out of it?”

Jungkook tsks. “You know, Pumpkin, sometimes people do things out of the good of their hearts. Do you really need a reason to study with me, a poor Ravenclaw who’s just trying to graduate?”

You glare at him.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook caves. “I need help in Transfiguration and I hear that you’re pretty good at it. There.”

“What am I getting out of it?”

“What, you won’t just do this for me? I’m wounded, Pumpkin.”

Another glare.

“Fine,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes. “A little bird told me that you need a bit of help in Defense, so I figured we could help tutor each other. You know, like one of those symbiotic relationships.”

“That snake,” you mutter under your breath. How could Yuju tell Jeon Jungkook, of all people, that you’re struggling in Defense Against the Dark Arts? How could she betray you like that?

“So, whaddaya say?” Jungkook asks, stretching a hand out across the table. “You in?”

You sigh. Spending more time than absolutely necessary with Jeon Jungkook sounds like your own personal hell, but you suppose it can’t all be bad. After all, he’ll be at your mercy just as much as you’ll be at his, seeing as you both need help in your respective classes. So maybe there is a silver lining, after all.

You meet his eyes directly, dark and stormy and certain. “I’m in.”

Against all odds and several vows you had made yourself over the years, studying with Jungkook becomes somewhat of a normal thing. You work out a schedule—Wednesdays at four, the only day he doesn’t have Quidditch practice and one of the few days of the week you’re not fretting over the newspaper issue—and follow it dutifully, weeks passing with the two of you meeting up at the same table in the library, going over the lessons of the week and working out anything you missed.

It’s strange, having a faithful and consistent arrangement with someone you, at one point, wouldn’t be caught dead spending time with. And the strangest part of it all is that slowly, some part of you, some crevice deep within your bones and your soul and your being, actually begins to look forward to Wednesdays at four, where Jungkook will be arriving at your usual table, unpacking his belongings with a soft smile on his face, unaware he’s being watched.

That’s the thing you’ve come to realize. You’ve only ever known Jungkook when he’s knows he’s center stage, when he knows that there are eyes on him. Every time you’ve been around him prior to this, he’s been in the spotlight, got someone who’s paying attention to him. And suddenly, you’re catching him whistling to himself as he takes notes from his Transfiguration textbook and sneezing when the feathers of his quill brush against his nose accidentally and doing little dances when he gets a question right. Suddenly, he’s existing in the background, by himself, without the hard gazes of the people around him. And it’s different.

Or maybe it’s always been like this. You’ve just never had the luxury of witnessing it.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, tapping your parchment with his quill to get your attention. “Does this make sense to you? I don’t get it.”

He flips around his textbook and points to a passage, brows furrowed as he tries to read it again, hoping maybe the words will stick this time. You squint slightly—out of habit—as you go over the text, the words slowly processing.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, nodding. Jungkook looks up at you like you just saved his life. “It’s just explaining the technicalities of the difference between conjuring charms and traditional conjuring transfigurations. See, charms will enhance an already-existing object, but conjuring transfigurations create something new entirely. But it’s kind of confusing, I have to admit, since both exist in their own realm of magical spells.”

“So conjuring charms create something in addition to something else, but conjuring transfigurations just make something new, then?” Jungkook asks for clarification.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, alright,” Jungkook says with a dutiful nod, quickly scribbling it down in his notes. “You make it so much easier than this damn textbook.” He grins honestly, earnestly, as he goes back to reading the rest of the chapter, leaving you to your own devices once more. These days, it’s not so much direct tutoring as it is studying together.

Against all odds, Jeon Jungkook has become someone you actually don’t dread being around. In moments like these, he is soft-spoken, gentle, and sincere.

It’s strange. Has it always been like this?

Dear Y/N,

Good news: I think we’re friends. Or at least, I think we’re friends. I’m not sure about her, but I’d like to think she feels the same way. Except now, the problem is that because we’re friends, I’m getting more and more nervous! I swear, every time I’m around her my hands get all clammy and sweaty and disgusting because I’m scared that if I do end up confessing and she doesn’t feel that way, we’ll lose what we already have. But do we even have anything in the first place? I’m not even sure if she thinks we’re friends! What now?

Yours truly, A Slightly-Panicked Bambi

Dear A Slightly-Panicked Bambi,

Don’t worry! Chances are that if you think you’re friends, she probably thinks that you’re friends as well, which is a great step in the right direction. I’d say that now you’ve established yourselves as friends, your next move is to slowly reveal your romantic intentions. Don’t pile them on her all at once because it might be too overwhelming. Try subtly incorporating romantic gestures into your relationship as it is now, like compliments and really, really lowkey flirts, to see if she picks up on the message. See where that takes you!

Yours truly, Y/N

It’s snowing.

It’s been snowing, really, for the past week now. It was a couple centimeters on one day and a few more on another day but this weekend has been the full force of it, a steady blanket of white covering the grounds.

But that doesn’t mean the seventh year Hogsmeade trip is cancelled. As Yuju likes to put it, Hogwarts doesn’t believe in rainchecks. Besides, Hogsmeade always looks prettier in the snow, when the flakes leave a soft pillow on the sloped rooftops of the buildings and Honeydukes brings out its seasonal treats, sugared snowflakes and peppermint toffee lining the windowsill. The peppermint toffee is a favorite of both yours and Yuju’s, but you know where your true loyalties lie (Pumpkin Pasties, of course).

“Thank God it’s the beginning of the semester otherwise I would be so stressed right now,” Yuju says happily as you walk along the pavement, feeling the wet cold of snowflakes falling onto your nose, your ears, and your fingertips. “Oh! Hey!”

Your best friend starts waving wildly at a small group of students standing outside of The Three Broomsticks. Through the snow, you recognize them as some of Yuju’s Quidditch buddies.

“Mind if we hang out with them?” Yuju asks, knowing that sometimes you like to keep your Hogsmeade trips an exclusive between the two of you.

“The more the merrier, right?” You say in response, letting yourself be dragged over to where they’re waiting. It’s two Gryffindors, one Hufflepuff, and two Ravenclaws, one of whom is barely recognizable under the thick blue scarf he’s got wrapped around the lower half of his head and the beanie covering his brunette hair.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” he says, voice muffled through the knit of his scarf. “Didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

“Well, here I am,” you say. “You know I’m only here for Yuju, right?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you watch as the air he breathes out through his nose materializes into fog from the cold. “Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

You gasp, smacking his arm. “What’s that supposed to mean!”

Jungkook laughs, no time to respond before your group is trotting off, everyone shouting out random sights to see, like the Shrieking Shack or Zonko’s, the snow making everyone’s hearts a little colder, a little softer, and a little lighter.

You bounce around, making stops at all of your favorite locations around the area, including The Three Broomsticks for a round of celebratory Butterbeer, marking your final year at Hogwarts and praying that you’ll all graduate.

“Okay, sue me, but hot apple cider is way better than Butterbeer,” Jungkook says loudly, a moustache of Butterbeer foam decorating his mouth. His words spark an eruption of indignant exclamations, Muggleborns and purebloods alike insisting that Jungkook’s tastebuds are incorrect and have to be clinically checked. Because he is wrong.

Except he isn’t, and hot apple cider on a cold day by a lit fireplace is better than lukewarm Butterbeer, or even hot Butterbeer, any day.

“This might be the only thing we ever agree on, but you’re right,” you mutter to him, leaning over to whisper it in his ear.

Jungkook grins proudly.

Later that day finds you in Honeydukes, which is objectively the best location in all of Hogsmeade, no arguments. What more could you want out of a place other than constant, never-ending sweets? Nothing. Every time you visit Hogsmeade you make sure to drop by Honeydukes, say hello to the kind old lady behind the counter (who knows you by name), and buy a couple of your favorite items.

“I’m so tempted to get like, five slices of the lemon merengue pie,” Yuju says with a sigh, eyeing the display case longingly.

“Aren’t you lactose intolerant?” You say, more of a reminder than a question.

“And what about it?” Yuju says, almost like a challenge, before marching up to the register, already fishing through her pockets for her purse.

Your eyes wander back to the glass case, thinking that maybe, after five years of coming to Hogsmeade, you should branch out and not get the exact same thing that you get every time you come to Honeydukes (the aforementioned Pumpkin Pasties). The peppermint toffee looks delicious, and even though you’ve never tried them before, Yeeun always fawns over the Fizzing Whizbees—says it’s a better way to levitate than trying to cast Wingardium Leviosa on yourself. Chocolate Frogs are a classic you very rarely indulge yourself in, and you could never go wrong with Cauldron Cakes—

“Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, giving you a small shove as he arrives next to you with a bag from Honeydukes, taped shut. His scarf has been pulled down below his chin, revealing his bright red nose from the sudden change in temperature from the chilly outside to the heated store. “Here.”

You narrow your eyes. “If this is a cockroach cluster I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Just open it,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes.

You do as you’re instructed, albeit hesitantly, only to find three neatly-wrapped Pumpkin Pasties sitting at the bottom of the Honeydukes branded paper bag, waiting to be devoured.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say softly, unable to stop the smile that spreads across your face. No one’s ever bought you sweets before. “Here, let me pay you back—”

“No need, Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, placing a cold hand on top of yours to stop you from getting your wallet out. “Consider it a thank you for all the time you spent helping me with Transfiguration.” You nearly shiver at the sensation of his skin meeting yours.

“Really?” You ask. “Well, thank you for thinking of me. I don’t know why you’re being so… nice to me, but it’s a pleasant change.”

Jungkook pouts. “Don’t you remember how I’m madly in love with you?” Of course, the moment you compliment him he turns back into his regular self. You shouldn’t have put it past him. “Had to honor your nickname, didn’t I?”

“Hey, do you want one?” You ask, figuring that it’s only right he gets to eat one of the treats he paid for.

“Sure,” Jungkook says happily, letting you pull one of the neatly packaged desserts out of the bag and place it in his hand. “Promise me you won’t throw up this one this time?”

For once, the memory of you vomiting up the contents of your stomach into a trashcan outside of Honeydukes doesn’t make you want to cringe. Instead, you laugh, recalling it with fondness as you and Jungkook clink together your Pumpkin Pasties like goblets filled with wine.

You giggle. “Don’t hold me to that.”

Thursday night finds you right where you always are, but with a new face across from you. Jungkook’s taken it upon himself to add onto your Wednesday evening study sessions, insisting he accompany you to dinner when you’re finished, and even on the next day as well, sometimes. You keep telling yourself that it’s because you’re best friends with Yuju, who knew Jungkook first through Quidditch. Because it’s highly improbable that Jungkook would want to join in on your Great Hall dinners just for you. Right?

“When’s the mail getting here?” Yuju huffs, poking at her half-eaten bowl of peas. “Dog’s the only one I know who’d actually want to finish my lukewarm buttered peas.”

“You know that the butter makes him throw up, Yuju,” you berate her. “Feed him something else. Preferably the food that I buy him that is meant for owls to consume.”

“But what else am I supposed to do with my peas? I don’t want to just leave them. That’s a waste,” Yuju exclaims.

“I’ll have ‘em,” Jungkook offers up. That’s one bonus of his sudden appearance at your dinner table—he’ll eat anything you won’t, like a food vacuum cleaner. “I love vegetables.”

Yuju looks hesitant. “I think I’ll just let Dog throw up.”

“Hey!” You shout at her.

Speaking of Dog, the mail begins to filter in, dozens of owls entering the Great Hall with packages hanging from their talons on their beaks, to be dropped off at their owners’ tables, right in front of their eyes. In the middle of the year, not many students are getting mail, but just like every other week, Dog appears faithfully to deliver your letters for the week.

“Is this the stuff for the Witches’ and Wizards’ Counsel?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of chicken.

“Yeah,” you tell him, rubbing the side of Dog’s head as a thank you. “Oh, it’s a pretty small stack this week.”

“Guess no one’s having troubles this time of year,” Yuju comments, already beginning to spoon-feed Dog her peas. At this point, you don’t even care if Dog throws up. As long as he does it in the owlery, it won’t greatly inconvenience you.

You unwrap the tweed, letting it fall to the floor for one of the cats that roam the hallways of Hogwarts to play with, and begin to shuffle through the few letters that people sent you. It’s just enough for a full issue for the newspaper, thank God. “Hey, look. Bambi’s sent another one.”

Jungkook drops his fork onto his plate, the metal making a loud, disruptive clanking sound as it hits the glass. You, Yuju, and Dog, all turn to him, watching as he smiles guiltily, slowly picking up his fork and pretending that his clumsiness never happened.

“What’s this one about?” Yuju asks, hissing at Dog when he accidentally bites her finger.

“Lemme see,” you say, making to open the envelope.

“Who’s—Who’s Bambi?” Jungkook asks, mouth full. Dog seems to have notice the plethora of food still left on Jungkook’s plate, and is slowly making his way over to peck at Jungkook’s dinner rather than Yuju’s.

“Oh, just this guy who’s been sending me letters since the beginning of sixth year,” you muse happily. Jungkook nods, mumbling something unintelligible over his mouthful of food. “Sometimes he asks for advice but sometimes he just sends me kind words, which is honestly so thoughtful of him.”

“That’s nice,” Jungkook seems to say, though his words are quiet and muffled.

“And recently he’s been coming to me with questions about a girl that he likes and I just wish that I could give him better advice, you know?” You say, watching as Dog marches over to Jungkook, happily chewing on a piece of chicken he’s stolen from Jungkook’s plate, cooing contentedly. “Like, I feel like the advice I’m giving him on how to confess to this girl is the just what I would want if I was the girl, but obviously that’s not universal. Or at least, I don’t think it is. I don’t know. He’s always been so nice to me and I wish that I could give him better advice than what I’m giving him now.”

Jungkook nods again as acknowledgement that he’s still listening, though his eyes are trained on his plate as his hand instinctively comes up to rub at Dog.

Which strikes you as odd, because Dog doesn’t really cozy up to strangers, even if he will pick food off of their plates. He’s a relatively amicable owl—which is why he’s good for the your advice column, because he won’t bite at anybody’s fingers when they drop off their letters—but he won’t let just anyone pet him like Jungkook does. Like Jungkook is.

“Um,” you say, getting Jungkook’s attention. “Do you and Dog… know each other?” You ask, watching in some sort of trance as Jungkook scratches at Dog’s neck, making him coo happily.

“Me?” Jungkook asks, nearly sputtering. “No,” he says immediately. “I didn’t even know he was named Dog until today. Which, clever name, by the way. Why? Is he not normally, uh, like this?”

“No,” you say, suspiciously but of no one in particular. More just of the situation in general. “He doesn’t normally accept pets from strangers.”

Jungkook smiles down at Dog, who looks plenty happy to be receiving a good petting, regardless of the hand that’s giving it to him. “Guess I’m just different, then.”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. You reach your fingers out to see if Dog will return to you, his rightful owner, but he’s firm in his will to stay right where Jungkook can rub him. “I guess so.”

Not even animals are immune to the bewitching charms of a certain Jeon Jungkook.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, maybe it’s just because I’m clueless but I’m not really sure if she’s picking up what I’m putting down, if you know what I mean. Maybe she is and I just haven’t noticed, but as far as I’m aware, we’re still just friends. Which is fine, and I’ll totally accept that without complaining, but I haven’t even told her how I feel. Do you think I should just go for it? I mean, I don’t know what else to do at this point. Honestly, I feel like I just need to come clean and deal with the consequences in an appropriate and relaxed manner. She probably doesn’t even feel the same, but that’s okay. As long as I try, right?

Yours truly, A Very Fretful Bambi

Dear A Very Fretful Bambi,

At this point, I think that you can take matters into your own hands. If you want to confess to her, I’d say go for it! You’ve made your intentions fairly clear at this point. And it’s okay if she doesn’t feel the same—you guys are still friends, after all! I don’t know you personally, but you seem like a confident, strong-willed person and if you feel ready, then there’s no reason not to tell her. The worst she can do is say no, right? But, if you’re as kind as you’ve made yourself out to be since you first began to message me, then I don’t think she will. Good luck!

Yours truly, Y/N

The halls of the castle are eerily quiet at this hour. The moon shines through the big glass windows that line the corridors, casting its pale white light along the frescos that decorate the walls. You’ve been down this path plenty of times before, plenty of sleepless nights and tired eyes behind you, behind your seven years here. By now, you could walk this road in your sleep. You bet you have.

The astronomy tower is the most beautiful place in all of Hogwarts. Sure, students may insist that the ceiling of the Great Hall is the most picturesque, or their common rooms are the most homey, but the grounds are the most breathtaking, but all of those pale in comparison to the glass ceiling of the astronomy tower, showered in stars and planets above on a clear night, like your very own planetarium. Pale in comparison to the telescope you look through during class, catching glimpses of faraway galaxies that light up their own little corners of the universe.

It’s a wondrous place to be, the astronomy tower on a clear night, where you can empty your thoughts into the world and let the stars see inside your mind, watch as they twinkle their responses. And so, it’s no wonder that you most often find yourself here when the comfort of your dormitory isn’t enough, when sleep just won’t overtake you like it does most other nights.

Only, this time, when you open the door, the shadow of someone sitting on the steps that look out onto the glass balcony is waiting for you.

“Hello?” You ask into the silence, hearing your voice echo along the walls.

The shadow turns, and suddenly the side of Jungkook’s face is bathed in the light from the moon and the stars, half of his profile hidden from view and the other basking in a white, nightly glow. It’s stunning.

“Pumpkin?” He asks in response.

“What are you doing up here?” You ask, walking over to him. He’s curled up on the steps, leaning against one of the pillars with his knees pulled up to his chest, like a baby.

“’M just thinking, Pumpkin,” Jungkook muses. “Care to join me?”

Your legs move before your brain does, making to sit down next to him, when you falter, thinking that if Jungkook’s going to blab to you at two in the morning on a spring night, you’d rather just go back to your common room and do your thinking there. That’s the beauty of thinking—it’s in silence.

“I mean, I don’t really want to disturb you, you know,” you say tentatively, backing up.

“Aw, please?” Jungkook asks, pushing his lip out into a pout as he blinks up at you. In the moonlight, in the starlight, in the light of the faraway galaxies and planets and supernovas, Jungkook’s eyes look like they’re swimming in stars. “It’s lonely up here.”

And maybe it’s your love for the astronomy tower that keeps you there, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you or the way he’s curled up like a pillbug as he watches the stars slowly shift across the sky, but you take your seat next to him, a good bit of distance between the two of you as you slowly make yourself comfortable, watching out onto the glass balcony at the quiet of the world beneath you.

There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe what this feels like. To describe how, after years of toil and trouble, years of back-and-forth teasing and insults, you and Jungkook have found yourself sitting together in the dim light of the astronomy tower late one weekday night at the end of your final year of school, watching the stars together. It’s almost surreal, in a way. That every moment in the universe has led up to this. Up to you being here.

Never have you spent so much time together in silence.

Jungkook seems to shimmer in the moonlight. Perhaps it’s just because the moonlight bathes everyone in a heavenly glimmer, but Jungkook looks particularly dazzling, like the very fabric of his bones were made of stardust. Strange. You’d never felt particularly attracted to him, not when his big mouth and obnoxious personality overshadowed his looks, but you’ve never been one to deny his timelessness. He’s always been handsome—his looks will never go out of style. So maybe that’s why, when he sits beneath the moon and the stars, he glows. Because the moon knows that Jungkook can only get prettier.

“Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, breaking the silence with nothing more than a whisper. “I’ve got a question.”

“What?”

“Do you ever think that maybe, with certain things, you should just give up? Because you don’t know if you’ll ever get what you really want?”

“What?” You ask again, eyes wide open as you look at him. “You? Giving up? What alternate universe is this?”

Jungkook laughs, but it’s soft and half-hearted. “I don’t know. I’m just—I’m not sure if this thing that I’m trying to do is going to work out, you know?”

In the five years you have known Jungkook, as a student, as a Quidditch player, and even, dare you say, a friend, never have you imagined him being one to give up.

“Okay,” you say, “I know that maybe right now, the outlook isn’t looking promising. But you should never give up, especially if you haven’t gotten an outright no. If you don’t know for certain the future of your situation, then why should you stop working for the future that you want? You’re Jeon Jungkook, you don’t give up on anything. You work super hard for your grades and when you don’t understand something in Transfiguration you work at it until you do, and you spend hours on the Quidditch field trying to perfect ur eyesight to catch the Snitch even though there’s no magical spell for 20/20 vision, and you work your hardest and do your best and thats why you’re good at school and amazing at Quidditch and—”

“You think I’m amazing at Quidditch?”

You look over at Jungkook to see that he’s closed the gap between the two of you, his shoulder coming to rest right next to yours, and he’s looking at you with a misty haze in his eyes, the stars above you clouded and foggy in his dark irises. But he’s grinning, and grinning wide, because you just gave this totally unwarranted pep talk to him and told him he was amazing at Quidditch and a great student and everything else that you said, and Oh, God.

“Yeah…” You say hesitantly, “but don’t get a big head, asshole.”

“Believe me,” Jungkook says with a scoff, “the only big parts about me are my love for you.” You narrow your eyes. “That, and one other thing.”

You gasp in shock, totally unsurprised yet caught off guard nonetheless by his words, giving him a small shove against the staircase. But you’re not scowling, or frowning, or glaring at him. You’re laughing, because suddenly Jeon Jungkook is not just amazing at Quidditch, and a great student. He’s wonderful. In every way he is, and it might just be the way the moon illuminates him ever so perfectly that’s making you feel this way, but maybe this has been a long time coming.

Here’s the thing about Jeon Jungkook: he wasn’t always such a nuisance.

Because when you weren’t watching him, when he was sitting in his dorm room studying, or hiding in the astronomy tower, or wandering through the bookshelves in the library, he was quiet, and beautiful, and looked at the world like it had so much to offer him. When Jeon Jungkook let the world around him exist without him being in the spotlight, he was everything but a nuisance.

And even when he was acting loud, and being big, and teasing you, he wasn’t doing it to hurt. He was doing it because all he could tease you about was how much he loved you, whatever that meant, and how his heart was yours and how if you just opened your eyes you’d see him, and suddenly your vision’s never been clearer and he’s right there, in front of you. And it’s crazy, how these things work. How suddenly, everything’s been flipped on its side because, as it turns out, your heart is his.

How this moment, right here, sitting on the steps in the astronomy tower as the stars twinkle like Christmas lights above you, was fourteen billion years in the making. And the best part? It was worth the wait.

“Come on, hurry up!” Yeeun shouts at you as you’re quickly filing through the letters you received last night. You were too rushed to check them at dinner, what with Yuju on your arm stress-eating because of the Quidditch match she had to compete in the next day, the final one of the season. “I want good seats so we can see Yuju!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you say, quickly tearing open the first envelope so you can give it a quick glance over, planning on writing your responses over the weekend, after the Quidditch Cup. Yeeun’s standing in front of the mirror, trying to fix her Slytherin beanie, alongside the rest of the green and silver memorabilia she’s decked herself out in.

You open the first one and recognize the handwriting instantly, the familiar calligraphy of Dear Y/N, this one looking particularly nice. Like the person writing it had taken their time, done it with purpose.

Dear Y/N,

This may or may not be my last letter, depending on how this goes. But I just wanted you to know that on Friday, I’ll be in the air with the rest of my house, playing our very best game of the season. And I’ll be searching for the Snitch, as I’m supposed to, but above even that, I’ll be looking out for you. Because I love you, and more than anything else, I just wanted you to know that.

P.S.: Feel free not to respond to this one publicly.

Yours truly, Bambi

And the piece of paper drops to the floor, the hard edges of it hitting the hardwood with a soft thud.

Because that letter, and all of the ones coming before it, ever since the beginning of sixth year, could have only been written by one person. Someone who’s in your year, and a seeker for their house’s Quidditch team. And it’s certainly not your team’s seeker, because she’s a girl and also a fifth year. Someone who’s playing in this year’s Quidditch Cup. A Ravenclaw.

Holy shit.

“Come on, slowpoke! We have to go!” Yeeun says excitedly, running over to you and grabbing onto your arm. She pulls you out the door before your brain has a chance to process the information you just learned, the letter you just read. And you spend the entire journey to the bleachers of the Quidditch field in a daze, barely cognizant of the world around you, even as Madam Hooch blows her whistle and begins the game, even as the players whiz around on their brooms above you. Next to you, Yeeun’s screeching, or maybe she isn’t—you can’t really be sure, with the noise in your brain. You think that you wave to Yuju when she passes by your section of the bleachers, winking down at your group, but you’re not sure.

The only thing you remember is seeing Jungkook, in all of his Ravenclaw glory, sitting proudly atop his Firebolt as he darts around the field like a bullet, eyes keenly looking out for the Snitch. You only ever see him play when it’s against Slytherin, but you can say with certainty that in his entire Quidditch career, this is the best he’s ever played. The most he’s dedicated himself to his sport, the hardest he’s ever worked. He flies above the crowd and it’s as if the very fabric of the air is at his beck and call, bends to his will. You don’t need to know much about Quidditch to know that Jungkook is a good player, but this game is better than good. It’s inspiring.

And it pays off, too, because suddenly the commentator is screaming into the microphone that “Jeon Jungkook has caught the Snitch! Ravenclaw wins!” and the entire quarter of Ravenclaws have burst into cheers while the Slytherin quarter begins to sulk, beaten at their chance to win the Quidditch Cup. And Jungkook is coming to a halt in the middle of the field, the golden Snitch, sparkling in the sun, clenched tightly in between his fingers as the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team crowds around him, chanting “Jeon Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook!”

Your very last Quidditch Cup as a Hogwarts student and you couldn’t remember more than ten seconds of it if you tried. It passed you by in a blur, a haze of movement and shouts and cheers, and suddenly the bleachers around you are half as filled as they were before, and then a quarter as filled, and then only stragglers are left, gathering their belongings and heading back to the Slytherin common room, where your house is bound to party despite losing, as a celebration of a team that worked as hard as they possibly could.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yeeun says, a hand on your arm. She looks awfully sad, but she’s still got one more year to see Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup. She’ll be alright. “You coming?”

You look out onto the field to see the Ravenclaw Quidditch team pulling each other into a giant hug, everyone patting each other on the backs and cheering after a successful season. And somewhere, in the center of that pile, is a certain brown-haired boy with the stars lacing his eyes.

“In a second, I just have to do something first,” you tell Yeeun, who shrugs in response and flutters off by herself.

You move before your brain can tell you to stop, for fear that if your mind catches up to your legs, you’ll chicken out. Slowly, but certainly, you make your way out of the bleachers and onto the field, feeling so much smaller now that your feet are firmly on the ground, the seats meters above you. You’ve never been onto the actual Quidditch field. Well, until now, at least.

Blinking, you take a deep breath and march right up to the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, who have given Jungkook hug after hug for bringing their team and house to victory, and you shout, “JEON JUNGKOOK!”

And Jungkook whips his head around, sweaty and gross and exhausted and beautiful, and he says, “Yes, Pumpkin?”

And you fist your hand into his damp Ravenclaw Quidditch uniform and pull him into a bruising kiss, his lips crashing against yours, still warm from all the blood rushing through his veins. He makes a pleasantly surprised non-sound into your mouth, eyes crinkling up into half moons as he pulls you in, letting his gloved hand wrap around your waist. Behind him, the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team has burst into hoots and hollers, but you barely hear them. All you can see, feel, and imagine, is him.

When you part, he looks dazed, kiss drunk, grinning his lopsided grin. He’s never looked prettier. “What’s all this about, Pumpkin?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. “I thought you hated me.”

“Wrong again, Jeon,” you tell him instantly, shaking your head. “I don’t hate you. I love you.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile, wide as the goddamn ocean, wrapping his hand around you once more and pulling you back into another kiss, this one even more intense than the last. Your hands come up to rest against his cheeks, blushing red from the adrenaline pumping through him, letting your body melt against the heat of his own. He keeps you close, pulls you in impossibly closer, lets his entire body wrap around yours, lets his lips dance along your own, plush and warm and searing. And Jungkook is beautiful, and wonderful, and perfect, and suddenly, he’s yours.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, this is definitely my final letter. Because I can just talk to you if I actually have a problem. I just wanted to remind you, Thursday-night Y/N, as you read through all of the letters for this week, that I love you. In case you forgot. So, I love you.

Yours truly, Bambi

hard to believe this series is over already!! thank you so much to everyone, from my silent followers to the ones that message me daily, you guys are the reason i did this. the reason i wrote 70k of pure hogwarts aus. for you guys!!! i’m extremely proud of where i’ve come with this series, and it’s crazy that it’s over !

as i previously mentioned, it’s my blog’s 2 year anniversary today, and i suppose it’s only fitting i post a self-indulgent jungkook fic to commemorate it, seeing as that very genre was the first fic i ever posted on this blog. thank you again, to everyone, for these past two years. despite the trash pile that is tumblr, you make this website a wonderful place to be. here’s to many more!

[ask-artsy-oncie]

So I’m kinda in a meh/apathetic headspace in regards to my mental health right now. Maybe it would be best to just let some thoughts out. 

Firstly, I do want to apologize for making stupid, borderline inflammatory posts and throwing them out there onto tumblr dot com, I know that’s never the best course of action. However, I really, really do not appreciate anons sending vague “are you okay”s at me. If you’re not close enough to me where you can’t PM me (relatively) face-to-face, then I really wouldn’t like random inquiries about my mental health from you. Maybe it’s just because I don’t 100% trust anons (I’ve been here for a decade, I’ve seen some shit, can you really blame me?) but I think I ought to make myself clear on that. Are we clear on that? cool. 

I don’t know... I’ve felt so lost and tired recently, moreso than usual.

I’ve always had a massive complex about annoying people, being too self-indulgent, not having good ideas or opinions or what-have-you. People who have known me for a while almost definitely know that. I don’t think it all necessarily exists in a vacuum, either I have a genuinely hard time coming up with objectively good ideas. Sometimes I’m just straight-up “head empty” mode. I’m also often really opinionated and sometimes intend to die on hills that people aren’t really meant to die on (or are even necessarily worth dying on). I can get way too wrapped up on meaningless things because my brain is too hyperfocused on this one thing, or maybe something I rely too heavily on for comfort is... I don’t know how to put it.... put at risk? Challenged? I have a lot of mental issues and real life issues, though I’m not claiming to be massively oppressed or anything, but I tend to cling to comforts a little too desperately. And I’m not just talking about like. Media. Just comforts in general. Sometimes I’ll spend too much of the day laying in bed. Sometimes I cling to old relationships or old forms of relationships or I constantly worry about the day I’ll inevitably no longer have the same relationships I have now. 

I’ve known I needed therapy for a while now. I’m waitlisted and everything, but I need to go about actually choosing a therapist to see and I’ve been dragging my feet on that so I guess that’s my bad. I’ll get to it. Shit’s overwhelming, yknow? 

Anyways I know I have a lot of these flaws and problems and I think my horrible anxieties about being too annoying and whatnot is just a really extreme form of self-reflection. Maybe. Not entirely sure. Maybe a therapist could tell me.

I get way too passionate, way too easily, and it’s almost always followed by a super intense period of shame, like, to the point where I’m desperate to isolate myself and destroy my relationships with other people, because then at least I’m actually trying to destroy a relationship by being a bad person, rather than someone leaving me for... I don’t know, being too happy? Caring too much? Talking too much? Just. Shit I have less control over. 

I’ve tried putting a cap on it, suppressing everything. Trying not to indulge too much, trying not to be so happy and talkative, straight-up deleting messages I think might be too annoying the second I send them. Trying to be inoffensive through being unnoticeable. I’m trying to do that now, honestly. It’s why I joked about deleting my blog. All it does is hurt and make me go fucking nuts because I’m bottling up a lot in doing that, I know. I’m just not fully convinced I don’t just deserve to feel that way.

There are a lot of points in my life where I’m convinced that my best course of action in succeeding or keeping people from being put-off by me is to just sit down and shut up and draw what I’m told to draw. To just completely lose my agency in drawing. It makes sense, when you feel like you don’t have any good ideas of your own, you just illustrate others’. And there are many, many points where I have done this out of a place of love. Fuck, most of what I’ve drawn for Lolly’s writing has come out of a place of genuine love, not just for her work, but for her. A lot of what I’ve drawn for Bethany (for any REAL long-time followers reading this) has been like that, too. But there are also points where it honestly just feels like my only purpose is to be a tool through which others may visualize their whims. That if I dare inject too much of myself into things, they’ll be permanently ruined. And then there’s the shame I feel in having wanted to impart a piece of myself into a work - a demerit for being too selfish or self-important to deem my whims anywhere near good or important enough to be included. 

I have so many ideas. So many opinions and thoughts and feelings and genuine insight that I’ve suppressed or deleted because I either feel like that’s what’s expected of me, or I’m straight-up told that my thoughts and opinions are bad and wrong. Like. Fuck me for having opinions on animated media levels of being shut-down. And you know, I’ve noticed something in the past decade of being an insufferable opinionated prick about things like that - that it’s actually easier for me to enjoy media when I’m allowed to be negative and critical of it. When I am allowed to just share my thoughts. And I don’t mean like, without being disagreed with, I mean like, in an environment where I’m made to feel like I actually can share these thoughts. When I can pinpoint and analyze what I didn’t like or what made me upset, it can be a lot easier for me to then move on and be able to focus on aspects that I genuinely do like. Like, holy fuck, it is SO much easier for me to pick-and-choose aspects of a certain sequel film that I actually like and feel comfortable saying I like than it was for me to do with the original, because I no longer have an incredibly toxic person in my life (or at least, in my life as much).

But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had this kind of experience since then, like. There are STILL things I struggle to move past because I have been made to feel like I just can’t fucking talk about them without being insufferable (sorry if I’m overusing that word - it just feels like the best word the feeling I’m trying to describe) or just straight-up ruining something for someone I care about. Keeping shit like this in does crazy shit to me, for real, and there’s still a large part of me that tells me “Fuck you. Suck it up. None of this shit matters.” Y’know? Because in the grand scheme of things, I know it doesn’t. And then there’s the shame that comes from having cared so much in the first place. It’s a fucking cycle. There’s some shit that’s just irreparable ruined for me because of this and that SUCKS.

I don’t like losing comforts. Fuck, I hate it, really. And I’m not talking about new comforts coming along and catching my attention as an old comfort begins to wane, I’m talking like. Destroying relationships, feeling SO MUCH shame surrounding a comfort media that it’s too difficult to enjoy it no matter how hard I try, or having too hard of a time disassociating a comfort with a horrible event or person. And it’s feeling like at LEAST one of these is starting to happen to me again and Good Gods it’s just. It’s so terrifying. 

But who do I tell? When my primary worry is annoying or offending or hurting people? Y’know? I can’t just vent to one single person to this all the time, that isn’t fair. But it gets to a point where my brain tells me “No, you can’t talk to ANYONE about this because that’s rude and wrong and a true friend wouldn’t do that. There’s a reason why you can make any number of concerning posts, messages, private ramblings, whatever, and the people you’re closest to won’t ask you what’s wrong.” 

And, yeah, honestly, I do think it’s true that the people I consider my closest friends won’t read this. I actually don’t believe the average person will read this, or at least get this far. I genuinely do just talk too much and it’s a lot for most people to deal with. Otherwise, I talk too little, and probably enter the “you should be able to read my MIND” level of expectations, which, of course, isn’t far. I understand, I swear I do, it just takes some time to come to terms with every time I get wrapped up in my stupid mental stuff. And I also promise that I try to give these people the same kind of response I want, y’know? I try to look out for any worrying behavior and try to offer an ear and help in any way that I can. I don’t think expecting the same in return is fair, I just worry about any of them being like me, and I’m willing to play to that if it’s necessary. I’ll break quiet streaks for that shit, y’know?

Honestly, these stupid quiet streaks are probably more unbearable for me than they are even noticeable for most people. It sucks. I just wish my mind was normal so I A) wouldn’t have these insecurities to begin with, because B) I would never end up exhibiting the behavior to warrant such insecurities.

There’s so much shit I want to talk about, to analyze, or explore, that I want to share with the world, or at least with people I love, that I probably never will because my stupid brain has already decided that all this stupid shit is better kept to myself where it can rot and be forgotten eventually. Which is fine, in the grand scheme of things, I guess, because I functionally have never really been the guy who comes up with ideas (at least, good ideas) I’m just the pencil, the one who I guess makes things visual? I can’t even bring myself to say “I bring the ideas to life” because that’s pretentious and untrue. These ideas are already alive because they come from brilliant minds. 

I don’t even think it’s fair for me to call myself a character designer unless the characters are my own. Otherwise, I’m just following the directions of a much more competent conceptualizer (there’s a reason my characters barely have any... well, character). That’s the reason why I removed my unearned credit as the character designer for Ty from Swindle’s description, because I really don’t deserve that kind of credit. It’s why the asks about the designing process of Ty have been left unanswered, because, fuck, what do I even say? “I just did what Lolly told me to do, just like I did with all of Swindle. Please don’t give me that kind of credit, I know I falsely ascribed it to myself earlier, and I want to rectify that”? I guess I could have, actually, now that I’m typing this. But people always get fucking upset with me when I try not to take credit, even when it’s shit that isn’t mine!! So I don’t know what to do!! I don’t know what to fucking do!!! Because I just don’t fucking want to make people upset or unhappy!!!!!!!

I’m sorry, this post is too long and I’ve worked myself up and I’m no longer apathetic. I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep so big win for my complexion, honestly. 

Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I guess getting this shit out of my system is probably best to do in a big tumblr post no one will read. 

I don’t want anons about this. If I can just ask one thing. Please.

[reputayswift]

Hey!!! I wanted to ask about your MBTI typing and if you think you relate to INFP characters, if you can guess when a character is the same type as you, I mean... Things is, I’ve been so frustrated with MBTI ksjdjdj like, there are characters I’m 99% sure that are INFPs and then people type them something else entirely? I have a hard time with people typing introverts as fe doms, you know, just because they can be sociable and witty idk. Are you into it or were you just typed once and it made sense to you? Do you also think about characters typings and obsess over this as if your life depends on it??? I’m thinking of giving up trying to prove my point with this specific character and just let it be known in my heart that they’re an INFP! What do you think? 🥺 I’m rambling in your askbox forgive me I’m ????

Just wanted to add that as an INFP I can relate a lot to the things you post and I appreciate them so much, really, your posts always make me feel better, thank you for always being a bright presence here on tumblr dot com! 💗✨

P.S: Just to make it weirder, did you know Jess is an INFP? Iconic.

Hi there! No worries, I love the rambling 🤗💖 I’d say I’m casually into it! I’ve taken the test a few times (I’ve gotten INFJ before as well but I’m pretty certain I lean INFP) and use it as a writing tool (sometimes when I’m shaping a character it helps give me a sort of “base”). There are definitely certain characters where I can immediately identify them as an INFP (Lara Jean Covey from TATBILB and Pam from The Office come to mind) and other characters I relate to that I don’t necessarily think are the same type as me (like Rory)! I think with fictional characters it’s difficult to pin down one personality because everyone’s interpretations of them are influenced by their own experiences/perspective (which I think is so cool actually). If yours tell you a character is an INFP I think there’s nothing wrong with sticking to that :)

Also you are SO sweet, I get kind of paranoid about being annoying so that means so much :’) Thank you for being a bright presence in my inbox! 💕

And YES I have heard that! See he’s one of those characters that didn’t immediately strike me as an INFP but I will certainly take it 😌

[bitchsexuality]

i need to scream into the void for a bit so vent post under the cut

my mom is obsessed with me getting a job which like. i DO understand why and i AM trying to find something long-term that i can handle without having Psychotic Breakdown #234928

well. ok i mean technically she’s obsessed with me studying, not just getting any random job, because... honestly as much as i love her i know that she’s trying to live through me in a way and she has lots of frustrated dreams. and i guess she kind of wants to make sure that doesn’t happen to me too but mostly she just wants to see me as an investment that paid off so that her mistakes don’t seem as bad to her in retrospect

i’m not projecting or assuming there, that is 100% what is happening. and it’s been happening for a long LONG time. like when i graduated high school after dropping out because of Psychotic Breakdown #5 (The Big One!) she said that it was all thanks to her because i wouldn’t have made the effort if she hadn’t pressured/encouraged me to which is. absolutely false, dumb as shit and frankly insulting lmao

Anyway. she’s constantly telling me to find something i love to study so i can get a job i love! and be emotionally fulfilled and feel like i have a purpose! or whatever! but the problem is (i’m gonna make a list it’s easier for me):

- there are only like. four things i consistently enjoy. and that’s rounding up

- if one of those things goes from “thing that i like/that distracts me and relaxes me” to “thing that i have to do every day because my life depends on it” then it’s going to stop being something i enjoy really fucking fast, so in the end doing something i don’t particularly like would be BETTER for me because the end result would be pretty much the same BUT i wouldn’t lose one of the At Best Four Things I Enjoy

- probably repeating myself here but it’s important to note that literally i can NOT think of anything less emotionally fulfilling for me than a job. not saying that’s an universal thing of course but the like, structure and feeling of dependency that come with a job would absolutely ruin everything else for me no matter how good it is/seems

- studying is hell for me because the academic environment and all the pressure + obligations involved fuck me up VERY BADLY so even if i found something i love (but not too much) it’d take me like... 7 years to get a degree depending on how long the major is supposed to be for people who don’t regularly have Big Bitch Breakdowns

i probably fucked up the order in which these should be but whatever. the point is that i am NOT going to find my ~vocational calling~ because i probably do not even HAVE a ~vocational calling~. and studying some random thing for the sake of making my mom happy would genuinely just be a waste of time and maybe not lead anywhere because. y’know. a degree does not guarantee a job. so whatever

kinda lost where i was going with this at first but i needed to rant and i’m getting there now. because what finally made me go “ok i’ve had enough i need to write a weird journal on tumblr dot org now” is that she’s currently obsessed with me studying programming. of all fucking things.

like the thing is that whenever i talk to her about my hobbies she’s like “OH THIS COULD BE YOUR JOB STUDY THIS”. and she knows that i a) like videogames, b) would VERY MUCH prefer to work from home, because c) going outside on a regular basis usually makes me uncomfortable and d) my #1 favorite activity is staying in the same spot (often a chair) all day

so for her the very obvious logic there is some kind of youtube recommendation reach of “you like videogames so you will like programming, which is used to make videogames”. and also “you’re good with languages so you’ll be good at programming because uhh Programming Language???” (and completely ignores the part where i keep telling her that i’m not good with languages, i just speak english fluently because i do everything in english so it sticks, and even that just started out of necessity because i fucking refused to play videogames with spanish-from-spain aka Worst Spanish translations/voiceovers, and i’m pretty sure that if i tried to do the same with Programming Language??? it’d either be impossible or give me a migraine because i’m 95% sure you’re not supposed to play videogames by just like. looking at the code).

and HERE IS THE PART THAT I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SAY FOR LIKE 11 PARAGRAPHS NOW I LOST COUNT: i did try basic programming once and it was awful because... ok honestly i was going to blame it on Probably Dyscalculia Brain but not everything is because of Problems Brain, even for me, who is 99% Problems Brain. i just think it’s very hard and i don’t get it. and yeah i guess maybe i could do it if i spent a long time trying, but like if the idea here is “get a job soon” i don’t think that “spend 11 years learning how to program” is. the best way to do it.

but my mom has this thing where like... she thinks that all those things that i have been talking about for 12 paragraphs are a result of me just being like. stupid? naive? idk. like i don’t understand that the way i’m handling everything is kind of fucking up my life, so it’s a Big Deal. but. i know that. i absolutely know that. and it’s terrifying and upsetting and etc etc etc i was going to overshare more about my current state of mind (bad) and my emotional stability (none) but uh. better not.

so she keeps sending me stuff that i guess she thinks will suddenly make me go “oh thanks mom this article from lifetipsthathelpandaregoodforyou dot blogspot dot com made me rethink my entire life and i know The Way now!!!!”. which is. annoying. AND today’s was an article about how programming is the job of the future and it’s well-paid. and i just. don’t know what to reply to that. like i literally told her “no, i don’t think programming is for me, i know it’s in high demand now and it pays very well, the issue is not that i don’t UNDERSTAND THAT, it’s that i’m just not good at it? and it requires a lot of practice?” and her answer is essentially “you’re wrong <3″ (even though, for the record, she knows even less about programming than i do)

the way i phrased all of that makes it sound super stupid i know but mostly i just don’t know how to deal with her or how to make her happy anymore because it’s like. nothing is enough for her? her idea is “get a job NOW. study NOW. get a job based on what you’re studying WHILE YOU’RE STUDYING it now. learn programming IMMEDIATELY programming pays well. STUDY LITERATURE (the thing that i wanted to do but didn’t) AND LIKE ABSORB PROGRAMMING KNOWLEDGE FROM THE INTERNET AND PROGRAM (it pays well) WHILE UHH ALSO STUDYING BIOLOGY (another thing that i wanted to do but didn’t)” and then “if you don’t do these things it’s because you’re too stupid to realize they’re important. you need me to constantly tell you that you’re fucking up your life because you’re stupid. if you fail it’s your fault. if you do well it’s all because of me”.

it’s like. fucking exhausting. maybe i’m exaggerating and of course the programming thing isn’t the biggest issue here but it’s kind of... all of this has been happening for years, as i said, and i feel it’s been getting worse and worse, so her new obsession with programming is just a tiny little bit/symptom of that but also uh *checks linguee* the straw that broke the camel’s back

[yououghtaknow]

15 + 24?

hi!! thank you so much <3

15. introduce us to your version of william

oh BABY!!!!

okay. so. the thing about william is i have always hated him. as someone who has been in a manipulative situation similar to noorhelm, just hated the man. so, i decided to create a new man. a good man. complex, but good.

enter JAMES ABRAHAM COHEN!!!!! he’s introduced to the song teenagers by mcr and is wearing a trenchcoat over his school uniform, not only because he’s edgy, but because he’s cold because he immigrated to the uk from the middle east. he is, at the beginning, a manwhore, yes. but he’s a party boy, a guitar boy, who rori sees and thinks Yes. My Future Husband. meanwhile he’s just having a drinking contest with his Boys and then talking about his favourite comic book character. he’s not a bad boy TM. he’s a Dumb Teenage Boy.

he's a genuinely nice guy. he apologises to rori as many times as he can, and only stops because she asks him to, and they become friends. he falls madly in love with liz as soon as she starts roasting him. he’s just an Understanding guy who’s made mistakes and is always trying to get better and be there for his friends. he literally let jake live in his flat for a good while. 

and, my favourite thing about james is that he forced his friends to audition for a production of grease with him to see the girl he Loves So Much and ends up getting the lead role???? TWICE???? this man is danny zuko and roger davis. 

also, in my personal opinion, i think james is kind of a superior arthur skamfrance. both have a disability (arthur is hard of hearing, james has autism/adhd), both have abusive family, both are in a love triangle with two beautiful girls (one of whom is a wlw chris b). and also a surprise member of the boy squad starting in season 3. 

also, in a way, my william is a william/jonas/eskild combination??? which is very fun. i just love taking all these different skam dynamic, cutting them up and throwing them in a pot and seeing what looks nice.

also, ONE LAST THING, i think my william has the most reasonable reason to go to london. as it is an hour away from brighton by train and he can come back before the day’s over. because he’s a teenage boy. and we will be seeing a lot more of james in season 5. get ready for it.

24. tell us about a ship that is endgame.

i’m going to be real with you all on tumblr dot com on this night. i honestly don’t know what romantic ships are going to be endgame, because i plan the seasons i’m writing as i’m writing them, so i only have the vague framework of what i want for the endgame of skambr as a whole. so i’m just going to talk about the 3 main romantic ships that are canon as of the end of season 4. and i’m gonna Go Off.

esther/sandy:

OKAY. taking sandy’s story as a whole. she’s kissed her best girl friend. she started dating a guy she doesn’t like. she’s desperate for something new to come along. and esther has just moved back from germany. she just wants to meet someone to talk to because she’s so lonely. and boom. they run into each other one night by chance and it’s “oh my god she’s so pretty” at first sight. and then they start talking and become friends so quickly (and esther introduces sandy to the keysmash). also, nooreva should’ve been canon. i have rectified that.

but god. the way they have their conversation in s1 e4 and almost kiss but get interrupted by sophie??? god. and when they actually kiss in s1 e6 and suddenly everything’s Good until they get caught. and sandy Runs because what else can she do? she’s terrified. and esther stays. and when they see each other again, esther doesn’t say anything because she knows sandy can’t talk about it. until sandy gets outed and attacked by the football team, and esther instantly goes to protect her and puts her own feelings aside to make sure sandy’s okay. and sandy just Needed a safe place to land like esther for so long. and when they finally kiss at the christmas fair as “girls like girls” plays????? god.

and their relationship in all of the later seasons GOD. i love them. their fight and reconciliation in season 2. them just being together casually, with sandy healing from her past and learning to truly love herself, and esther opening up and having someone there to comfort her when she needs it. and the fact that they’re still friends throughout it all, because it;s not just friends to lovers. it’s friends to friends AND lovers. also when esther sang “boy problems” by crj at sandy..... ICONIC

liz/james:

GOD. okay these two are really one of my favourite dynamics i’ve ever written. because they start as “oh you’re the annoying guy my best friend’s got a crush on”. and go to “oh you’re the ASSHOLE who broke my friend’s heart”. to “oh she may have forgiven you, but i Have Not”. and james is just like “I Am Being So Nice And She Still Hates Me”. but then we see liz seeing james’s art piece at the end of s2 e1. and she connects with it so deeply. and then they have their first real conversation in the next episode and they have a lot in common. they get each other. and he sings “perfect for you” from n2n to her. and she gets so overwhelmed by the fact that her mind might be changing that she just Runs Away.

and then we get the sleepover scene and GOD. one of my favourite scenes to write. james being a good cook??? james smoking out the window and liz making fun of his guitar. and then liz beginning to play james’s brother’s piano and james making it a duet as they sing “falling slowly” from once together. and then they share a bed and instead of saying something creepy, james just says “i think we might be becoming friends”. and she texts him immediately after the prank on the holiday episode. and their first kiss. GOD. with him always calling her elizabeth and the pride and prejudice parallels and “bad idea” from waitress...... and then them spending the next day together. also, in the first kiss clip liz says that she “hates one direction”, and in the next morning clip, one direction plays as she walks with james. it’s a metaphor baby!!!!!1

and their whole political dynamic GOD. it’s actually based a lot on how my politics have changed from when i was 14, beginning to write the series, and now. with going from the centrist-liberal ideas of “all violence is bad :) racism isn’t that bad guys :)” to liz using her privilege as a rich white girl to fully bail james out of jail for assaulting the man who’s been racially harrassing him for months. and the scene where liz has her meltdown at school and james takes her home, puts her to bed, and sings her to sleep. AND THE SCENE WHERE HE COMES OUT TO HER AS TRANS GOD. also them just being nice in the background of season 3 and 4. delightful.

bree/rori:

THIS RELATIONSHIP IS LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVOURITES TOO GOD. their DYNAMIC in the scene where bree is introduced and rori is all starry eyed over her and bree will already do Anything for her. it’s about the “i want to be her friend so bad” kind of crushes. and bree and rori getting closer and closer as the season goes on, and they get the “i bet i can make you horny” scene because i just think it’s really fun.

and GOD. the evilde plot in skam og makes me. so Mad. but here...... it’s about the internalised homophobia. it’s about the wanting one good movie kiss. it’s about the them making out to one direction in the middle of a school event. AND THEM DOING THE PRANK TOGETHER ON THE EASTER HOLIDAY EPISODE. QUEEN SHIT! and the scene where bree is drunk and talking to liz about how it feels to be in love...... that was about rori!!!! and when they played sandy and rizzo in grease together. the homoeroticism, the best friendship.

and in season 3 when nick and rori get together and bree is just standing there, jake talking to her and she looks into the camera...... god. and SEASON FOUR RORIANNA. WHICH IS THEIR SHIP NAME IN MY HEAD. GOD. them just being best friends and bree being silently in love with her because she’s happy that rori is happy with nick (who is also her friend). the scene where they “practise kissing” because rori is scared to kiss a girl onstage (we love internalised homophobia), and how bree also ignores it because she’s scared of conflict. and they’re always so there for each other. rori being there to support bree so hard when bree’s at her lowest point. bree being there for rori and ready to fight for her. bree going from waking up next to josh, to waking up alone, to waking up next to rori. them going from slow dancing to daylight by taylor swift to laughing and dancing on a crowded stage in la vie boheme.

quite genuinely? they have it all. evilde. sana/chris b. eva/chris b. noora/chris b. noora/vilde. it’s about girls supporting girls and also them kind of being cut from the same cloth as sandy/esther. one of them having internalised homophobia and running away from the kiss, and the other silently loving them until they get a yes or a no. 

anyways every relationship i write is about having clear consent and respect for your partner at all times. and also about friends to lovers. and also the tenderness of musical theatre couples. oh shit now i want to talk about jake/al. well. this is my tumblr blog and you all have to deal with me.

jake/al: jake and al are currently Not Together as of skam brighton season 4 but god. i love writing their relationship so much. it’s about them meeting when al is in a manic episode and jake is deep in his depression and grief. about the nothing and the everything. it’s about the jason and peter secret gay lovers, the tony and maria falling in love on the balcony and having their first kiss at a pretend wedding, the romeo and juliet whirlwind romance that ends in tragedy. it’s about the bright orpheus al with his music and his bright life and sad, bitter jake, hating everything about himself and holding his own, but then falling in love and finding a way to build himself a new life, while al is falling down into a deep depressive episode. and then jake picks al up and gives him the tools he needs to help him step back from the ledge. and then al, who’s spent the entire season chasing after jake and the joy he gives him, turns around and walks away to better himself. and jake is okay with it, because he also needs time on his own to get better, and they agree to stay close friends, and they do!!! it’s about the gay experience of falling madly in love and then going back to be friends.

[tarmairons]

aaaaaaand here’s part 2 of the extensive (book & netflix) masterpost of all my fave eslaf moments!!!! again, fair warning, this is a very long post

[part 1]

i wish i could have done all this in one part but i hit a size limit oops

NOW ONTO SEASON 3!!! which was a nightmare but i’ll try to pretend it wasn’t for the sake of this post

to begin: the constant endearments in the book (and the show... “darling dearest dreamboat” damn esmé) have me losing my wholeass mind like

next up we have the indisputable fact that they f*cked in the tent on mount fraught. my proof is that they shared a tent and it was cold and so they had to generate heat. thank you

and then another instance of their shared brain cell evaporating

olaf being super proud of scoring the world’s hottest girlfriend and bragging to his parental figures is surprisingly wholesome 

aaaand their brain cell is still missing in action

it’s very very cute how olaf obviously has zero artistic talent but esmé is always out there looking at him putting on a show like he’s the most amazing actor alive

and next on the list of scenes we were robbed of: p h y s i c a l  a f f e c t i o n

but at least the most important line, that is:

was included:

so i won’t torch netflix hq just yet!!!! oh but WAIT they cut this next part, so i might change my mind about the arson after all

and also this line ???? ugh they’re disgusting i love them

and then this whole entire scene of olaf being so proud of his murderous gf was. beautiful. spectacular. legendary 

and then someone pointed out that their hug looks like that draco/voldemort hug and it’s TRUE but i’m still gonna include it bc netflix is eslafphobic and i’m clinging to scraps here

this next line isn’t an eslaf scene but the phrasing is sending me shddhhdjsh

ok submarine time!!!! aka netflix making the sugar bowl esmé’s priority whereas in the book it is olaf’s as well AND netflix making it look like olaf was against carmelita joining them whereas it was his idea in the book… so basically all the reasons they fight in the show are unsubstantiated but go off i guess

very grateful for this Old Married Couple Bickering tho

and i know this whole scene is very problematic and talked about profusely on tumblr dot com but i’m including this screencap bc it’s soft how esmé considers them all a family

and Oh Wait olaf does too i’m melting

it’s like in TPP they wrote him bitching about “pretending to be a family” but he didn’t have any issues with it earlier, he just ran with it when esmé called carmelita their daughter

and was like “i know” ok netflix so why have him complain about it later on smh… he’s clearly not THAT mad about it, like:

next up!!! i’m a big fan of them disagreeing over something…

…and then 0.5 seconds later they’re getting along again:

^ that is the essence of their relationship

and now back to the topic of olaf not being annoyed at esmé’s Fashion Diva moments:

see he’s lowkey impressed ok

i’m now realizing that 99% of my alleged fave eslaf scenes from s3 are just me complaining about how the books are superior but ok

anyway this next scene deserves an emmy. give lucy an emmy for the delivery of “BUT DARLING”

and this is also soft bc olaf is like :/ and then esmé says something and he turns to her and is like :) so that always has me on the floor in tears

out of context this sentence is wild but like… netflix back at it again with robbing us of all the affectionate scenes huh

and here’s another instance of Couples Scheming being a fun activity to do together

and then we have their joint brain cell screaming for help but it’s adorable so

and then they go off to f*ck again

next up this whole beach scene is just more old married couple behavior and i absolutely adore it

and then we have Bonding Over Arson ~just couple things~

the fact that as the series progresses they go from “count olaf’s gf” to “esmé squalor’s bf” is legendary

and now this isn’t really a fave scene per se BUT considering the mess netflix made of the breakup i have to give a shoutout to the book version bc in comparison to the show version it’s.. beautiful how Mutual Agreement it is

but yeah lucy is spectacular here and it adds fuel to the Esmé Did Have Feelings For Olaf Because Otherwise She Wouldn’t Be Crying fire, which is great for me bc i love my otps with a side of angst

and of course netflix confirmed that esmé squalor, the city’s sixth most important financial advisor, has a daddy kink, so that’s incredible

you may think i’m done bc they broke up but no

here we have them a millisecond away from murdering each other but they’ll still take time out of their busy schedules to menacingly glare at children together. a spiritual bond that no breakup can destroy

but the real gem is the massive horny on main energy in the opera flashback (which was awful, but horny, so i have mixed feelings)

subtle, esmé

you too olaf, good job

and ofc it’s [luciana voice] imperative to remember that in the book esmé was out there trying to stop the premeditated murder of olaf’s parents so that’s nice of her

and last but not least the only valid s3 scene aside from esmé menacing the kids in the burned vfd headquarters:

sexy noir aesthetic fire escape rendezvous that ignited a revenge scheme spanning decades. if that’s not peak romance idk what is

and not to be controversial but i’m gonna drop this here anyway

ever since i read the end a billion years ago i always used to think olaf meant kit in this scene but like ?????? over the past few months i’ve been thinking, what if he meant esmé?? i mean, nothing directly negates that possibility, the books are so ambiguous and so open to interpretation that i might as well twist them to fit my headcanons, as we all do, so why tf not 

and i’m gonna add some final Thoughts and Opinions in case i get more anons asking why i ship eslaf even though they’re constantly bickering &/or about to Snap and kill each other:

i’m hopelessly weak for villainous ‘us against the world’ power couples and it’s like.. even though in the series they ultimately have different end goals, they have a great time being awful people together along the way and that’s all that matters, that familiarity and mutual understanding between them. neither of them ever tried to change the other, they’re both garbage people and that’s why they get along, and what makes them so compatible

and while i’m still hesitant to use the word ‘love’ in regard to their relationship bc it just doesn’t feel Right to me (i know there’s people out there who feel otherwise but i’m still meh about it), i don’t doubt that they had feelings for each other deep down, even if they didn’t always outwardly express them

so that’s my massive essay with so much source evidence that tumblr made me divide it into 2 separate posts thank you for your attention i need a vacation from tumblr now bc this took me HOURS

[ceriseskies]

It’s 5am Let’s Fucking Do This

Dear Transgender Transmedicalists.

You’ve been on my mind recently. I made this very emotionally driven post to get some of my frustration out, and well, the response I got from one of you, was— well, I got roasted.

So. Feeling like I owed a debt or something, I’ve done a little research, I’ve gone through some of your blogs. I have read actual trans people’s takes on you.  And I think I’m going to to bring a new weapon to the ring: empathy. It’s not one I see a lot of use of on Tumblr.

Because there’s one thing you’re absolutely right about: Most, or at least a sizable amount of  “truscum” are transgender.

(For the uninitiated, that means they believe you need gender dysphoria to be trans—non-dysphorics are called “transtrenders” or “tucutes”. Usually, but not always, comes with nb-phobia.)

First of all, I want to say where I think you’re right, because it’s only fair, and I want to show I’m being sincere about this.

For starters, I know Tumblr has this “you’re perfect and valid just the way you are babey!!!! Don’t change a thing!!!! <3<3<3!!!” And I can see why someone who suffers from severe dysphoria and needs medical transition for their mental health is scared off by that. I’m not here to police your positivity. If hearing someone tell you “your hormones are coming, and your transition will be smooth, quick, and soon, and you’ll come out of it a beautiful girl/handsome man” is what keeps you alive, then surround yourself in it. I want you to be healthy and happy.

Also, I believe that no one should have to date a trans person. That’s rapey. HOWEVER, I would question what makes someone uncomfortable about it. The genitalia? Okay, that’s valid. But a lot of other excuses are pretty thinly veiled transphobia, because no matter what kind of man/woman you like, a there’s a transgender person who fits those requirements. And don’t date someone transitioning away from the gender you’re attracted to. That’s sleazy.

And honestly, I think a lot of the “non-dysphoric” trans kids do experience some dysphoria, judging by their accounts. Just not an overwhelming, crippling level like I see most transmeds experience. There’s a lot of misinformation about it, and can see why they might not recognize it. And there’s a lot of dysphoric people would don’t even realize they have it until they become acquainted with their real gender. I would estimate that 90% of trans/nb people will experience some degree of it at some point in their life.

But even if 100% were dysphoric, I’d still be opposed to it being the defining characteristic. Why? Well, it makes being transgender sound like a medical disorder. And the idea of an LGBT (and continued, but that’s for another day, kids) identity being considered a disorder gives me major ick vibes—think conversion therapy, religious exorcisms, homosexuality being in the DSM…

Let’s start by breaking down the philosophy, because I can’t start telling you what you believe is wrong until I assess what you believe.

The belief of your average “truscum” is that gender dysphoria is the core of ThE TRanS eXpErIeNcE, whereas “trenders” believe gender to be a less tangible and more fluid concept.

It’s essentially dysphoria cure-seekers versus the gender truth-seekers, which, are the terms I’m gonna use now, because as a non-trans individual all these words feel dirty in my mouth.

Dysphoria sucks. And a lot of the cure-seekers are very much displeased with their trans identity. To them, being cis is good—they want to be cis.  They encourage those comfortable with their assigned gender to be happy about it! Therefore, they’re completely at odds with the gender-is-a-social-construct, down-with-cis ideology of the gender “truth-seekers” who are encouraging kids to create new genders and just find what feels right. They can’t imagine having fun being trans—it hasn’t been for them.

And because of that, well, I can never be too mad at them. 

There’s also an element of deep insecurity. Pretty much every dysphoria cure-seeker has latched on hard to the idea of brain sex, despite the science being shaky at best. It gives you the explanation you need for your dysphoria. You want a solid scientific ground, not just cheesy platitudes about it being ~how you feel inside~.

Just like every other trans person on Tumblr dot com, you’re seeking validation. That’s normal. Even you worry about being fakes sometimes.

But let’s not get too ahead ourselves here, it’s still mostly about people who aren’t “trans enough”.

The problem here is that in seeking your own validity, you’re stomping on other trans people.

I’ll let Casey, a lovely, 100% bona-fide trans woman, take it from here.

Now, usually when I hear the word “transtrender”, I find it’s not usually used at someone who has professed a lack of dysphoria. It’s usually someone who is being trans “incorrectly”.

For example, Riley J Dennis gets called a trender a lot, despite her talking about her own dysphoria on several occasions.

See, there’s a real fear that all these new gender experimenters are going to make the trans community look like a joke.

There’s a belief that these cool-new-gender-flexible-trans-kids are reinforcing trans about trans being a trend, and thus, blocking “real trans” from getting the help they need.

And you’ll notice that neither of these complaints has anything to with dysphoria. This is whining about people being annoying.

This is… very optics-focused. And hey, I think Tumblr downplays the importance of looking good to the average public. However, actual people matter more than outside impressions.

And also, who is the audience for this? Transphobes?

This tangential comment thread on Innuendo Studios’s “White Fascism” video gets it.

A lot of you simply want to assimilate into society as your real gender. You want to pass, be given the right pronouns, and get the hormones and surgery you deserve. And you want cis people to acknowledge you the correct way.

And so you try your best to be the “ideal trans person” for the cisgendered. You experience dysphoria, you want to pass, you’re actively seeking transition.

Sometimes you even join in the bullying.

There’s a lot of sucking up here. All lot of trying to to prove yourself to someone who wants you to suck them off.

And I refuse to suck the cishets’ metaphorical dicks. However, their real dicks might still be on the table if they treat me right,

Look, there’s quite a few transphobes out there who are unwilling to admit they’re transphobes, are looking for a cop-out. And this rhetoric enables their transphobia, using this guise which even comes with free trans supporters!!!

But eventually, they’ll turn on you. When you start challenging their perceptions, when you start stepping on their toes, when you become too inconvenient to be a shield against accusations of transphobia, they’ll toss you right in the garbage with all the “trenders” and “tucutes” you’ve been stomping on, and something tells me you’re not getting a warm welcome in that “garbage can”.

And they’re going to treat you like shit. And you’re going to be surprised when they teach you like shit. You’re going to have to learn the hard way that a conditional ally is not a real ally, and your beliefs are all about being conditionally accepting.

Transphobes don’t care about you or your struggles. If they did, they wouldn’t be transphobes.

What’s all of this going to get you?

What’s the endgame? Like when you kick out all the transtrenders, what will you have earned?

Will you have taken back your “trans spaces”? Will you have gotten rid of those annoying kids at the expense of actual people who need those places?

Will you have more of the non-finite trans resources?

What will that earn you?

You do realize that if you achieved your goal, you’d probably just start attacking each other, right?

And then we’d be back at square one. Because if there’s one thing all humans, cis, trans, or nonbinary, it’s someone to feel better than, no matter how stupid or toxic the reason is. Look. I don’t know what’s going on in each of your individual heads, and I don’t know any of you personally. I can’t tell you what has personally driven you to transmedicalism, but I hope you leave it behind one day.

All I can say is that I know a lot of you have had your own struggles, and as a (maybe?) good cis ally and fellow LGBT person, I sympathize with you. I’ve done my best to try and dismantle your worldview.

And I want you to know: it gets better. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but I know someone does, especially someone who’s ideology portrays their very being as inherently suffering.

Look, my PMs are open if you want to talk to me about this (or anything else). Please be polite, don’t come at me with callous accusatory questions you don’t actually want me to answer.

With love,

Cerise

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Secrets” Part 1

The Joker did something so unforgivable and despicable you don’t ever want to see him  again. After months of avoiding The King of Gotham, you really can’t understand why he appointed you as the only person to take care of his son in case of emergency. There’s no way you’ll accept to help the little boy in his father’s absence, yet the three years old has no fault in what happened between you and your ex.

Part 2: http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/178630090876/the-joker-x-reader-secrets-part-2

You have no idea for how long you’ve been driving, but you feel the need to pull over again: the restlessness is becoming unbearable and the tears clouding your vision make it dangerous to continue the trip for the moment.

You signal and switch lanes, slowly approaching the emergency shoulder ahead without a clue about what to do afterwards; one thing’s for sure though: Y/N will definitely take refuge in LA.

At this point it’s safe to say that the town her father owns is probably the only home she ever had; not a very comforting notion yet the shocking revelation she accidentally stumbled upon a few hours ago doesn’t leave any room for alternatives.

You park as close as possible to the concrete railing and get out of the SUV, the cold air making you shiver since your coat is quite thin for the chilly spring afternoon. You start pacing around the car, hesitantly glaring at your cellphone. Should you make the call now or wait?... …

Might as well get it over with.

You press the screen on the sole name listed under “Important Contacts”: Dad.

The Joker’s phone number used to be there also; it got blocked and removed when you had to stop for fuel at a gas station back in Gotham.

Jase picks up right away and the sound of his familiar voice makes it harder to keep yourself together.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi daddy,” you sniffle and bite on your lip, not wanting to cry. “How are you?”

“Not bad for an old man, kid. How’s my favorite daughter?” he asks and despite not remembering being more upset in your life, you still crack a smile since the mobster doesn’t have any other children.

“I’m OK dad,” you gulp and continue. ”I’m actually on my way to Los Angeles; I should be there tomorrow night.”

“That’s great, Y/N! I didn’t see you in a while and I sure miss you. How long are you staying?”

You take a deep breath, almost chocking on the painful words:

“Indefinitely…”

Absolute silence for a few seconds and then Jase growls:

“What the fuck did he do now?”

You sigh, choosing not to share the specifics of your decision.

“It’s just not working out…So I’m coming home…Can I use the house again please?” your request makes your parent cringe.

“That’s your house and you don’t need my permission to live there, kiddo. What’s going on, hm? You know you can tell me,” the 62 years old attempts to reason with the distressed Y/N: although she’s doing a decent job at hiding her heartache, he can read in between the lines.

“I’ll…I’ll be fine dad, don’t worry,” you mutter and your father knows better than to push for a confession; you’ll probably bring him up to date when you’ll be ready. “I think I’ll get on the road again; I have to cover as much distance as possible today.”

“Sure kid, I’ll see you soon. Drive safe!” Jase agrees because he realizes his daughter won’t be able to talk for longer: she sounds flustered and will probably burst into tears as soon as she hangs up.

“I will daddy. Bye…” is the faint answer the King of LA discerns before the conversation ends.

That son of a bitch! Jase grinds his teeth, angered at the simple affirmation of what he feared for months: The Joker was the wrong choice and certainly didn’t deserve your affection.

You were in love with him regardless.

So what the hell happened?!

************

Five hours ago

You were beyond excited to see J after the four days business trip; your father had a special request for his daughter to help smoothing out a transaction with one of his main New York partners and you obliged. Things went better than expected: Y/N managed to finish the assignment a day earlier which made the anticipation of being reunited with her boyfriend feel like a well-deserved bonus.

You rushed out of the elevator straight into the living room at the Penthouse and your enthusiasm got cut off when you saw this woman wearing one of your silk robes nonchalantly organizing piles of money in a few suitcases scattered on the floor. Her eyes got big when she noticed your presence.

“You’re early,” the woman concluded, more annoyed than surprised. “Weren’t you supposed to return tomorrow?”

You gazed at her with contempt, unaware of how bad it was.

“Who are you?” you frowned, heart beating so fast it was deafening.

She smirked, taking it upon herself to brief the clueless Y/N about the truth despite knowing The Joker will go ballistic at her actions:

“I’m his wife you dumb girl.”

You seemed stupefied and she continued:

“He does this from time to time if it benefits us business wise. Though I have to admit one year is the longest I had to share him with anybody and I’m tired of it! My husband never tells me who the women are and I trust he’s doing whatever necessary to ensure our future. I’m sick of people not knowing he’s mine!” she raised her voice, jealousy taking over. “Who are you, hm? What’s so important about you that he didn’t break it up yet?” she got worked up, seeing that as her chance to unravel the mystery of The Joker’s lengthy relationship with the stunned Y/N.

“I’m the Godfather’s daughter,” you mumbled and her entitled smile died under the burden of understanding she messed up badly.  

Damn, The King of LA’s offspring! That’s why the money was pouring in from all the transactions with the other gang, that’s why The Joker kept you for so long. Oh God, he’s going to lose his mind! He should have said something to his wife about your identity, at least this time around: you were probably his most ambitious and lucrative project ever. Unfortunately, his other half screwed up beyond repair.

J’s voice coming from upstairs got you out of trance:

“Who are you talking to Nessa?” and he starting descending from the top floor with a little boy in his arms. Half way through he realized you were there and abruptly stopped, prompting the child to complain:

“Daaaaddy, I’m hungry.”

The Joker gazed at the two women in his life and didn’t get the opportunity to reply the burning question:

“You have a child?!...”

Y/N ran out of the premises, unable to fully comprehend what she witnessed by mere coincidence. She took the stairs, stumbling and almost falling on the way down; her ears were ringing and she could barely see a few feet ahead which was much better than the aftermath of the encounter happening at the Penthouse.

The Joker put his son down and urged him to go back to the master bedroom, stomping towards his petrified wife.

“What did you tell her??” he yelled so loud it made her shiver. “What did you say??” J pushed her against the wall and Nessa took a stance despite the survival instinct advising of the opposite.

“I didn’t know she is the Godfather’s daughter, ok? I’m aware we’re doing this for us, but you should keep me in the loop! I didn’t know who she was. I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry???” he snarled and the eerie grimace on his face turned into genuine insanity. “You ruined all of it and you’re sorry?? Who gave you permission to open your mouth, huh?? I could have fixed this, I could have made her think I was cheating and patch it up!!!”

“Why are you so mad?...” she had the nerve to fight and J slammed her on the floor, livid at the defiant behavior. “Do you…do you actually like her??!”

“Shut up!” he kicked her and she couldn’t stop:

“Is that it?! You like her?!”

“I said SHUT UP!” The Joker got on top of Nessa and pinned her body under his, wishing to squeeze the life out of her with his bare hands for the total disaster she was responsible for.

“Mommy…” their three years old son whimpered, scared to see his parents like that; they were caught up in the feud and didn’t see Alexis sneaking downstairs. “Mommy…” the terrified little boy made his father postpone his rampage.

“You ruined my hard work,” he hissed and got off her. “One year down the drain and you have the audacity to inquire if I like her??! Do you know how much money we lost since Jase won’t do business with me after this??!!”

“I’m sorry baby,” Nessa kept on coughing and curled up in a ball.  

Alexis couldn’t stop sobbing and The Joker lift him up, panting with indignation while trying to suppress his rage.

“Sorry won’t fix shit!!!” he screamed and stormed out of the room, leaving his wife on the floor, grateful to have escaped his violent attack.

**************

After three months

You are at your father’s mansion, organizing his numerous accounts and updating wire transfers that need immediate attention after the settlements negotiated during the previous day.

“Done?” he uses his cane to knock at the opened door.

“Yes, dad. Probably 10 more minutes and I’m out of here.”

“Take your time kid,” he comes in and takes a stroll around his spacious office, wanting to share what he just found out.

You are completely absorbed into your assignment and Jase analyzes your features, delighted as always to see so much of him in his daughter.    

“Say Y/N,” he gets your attention,”wanna hear some news?”

“Hmm?” you lift your head up from the laptop, not overly curious to discover whatever he wants to share.

“Your ex nearly lost his life two days ago. Apparently an ambush. His wife was with him, my sources inform. She’s dead and he’s not doing well either,” your parent emphasizes the secret relationship and watches you squirm in your chair, startled at his unexpected revelation. “Is that why you left him?” the interrogation makes you hold your breath and he shakes his head, irritated. “You found out the jerk was married? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You exhale, cornered by the impulsive Godfather.

“Because I didn’t want the business partnership between Gotham and LA to be impacted by my personal life,” you blur out one of the main reasons for your silence.

“Business partnership?! When it comes to my family to you think I give a damn about monetary gain? Are you serious?!”

“I knew you would retaliate and I didn’t want him to think that I care. Because…because I don’t,” the sadness in your voice makes Jase calm down a bit.

“… … Why are you crying then?...” he pushes the box of tissue in front of his devastated daughter; you didn’t even realize tears are rolling down your face. Jase grabs your hand and pulls you up in his embrace, holding you closer when you start bawling your eyes out on his shoulder. “Nobody messes with my little girl,” he whispers and caresses your hair, somewhat discouraged by your objection:

“I’m 30 daddy,” you sniffle and bury your face in his shoulder again.

“Still my little girl,” your father grumbles, displeased his own flesh and blood thought she didn’t mean more to him than a few million dollars.

It’s clear you kept the secret for other reasons also, probably the most important being the embarrassment of finding out you were used and taken for an idiot by the man you obviously loved.

A whole year of lies and deceit…

The cut runs deeper when it comes from the person that meant so much it got you convinced to change your mind about not wanting children; The Joker probably laughed at your willingness to give him an heir when he already had one with his own wife.

The two of them definitely deserved each other, but he definitely didn’t deserve you.  

***********

2 weeks later at your house

“What does he want?” you sneer after one of the guards entrusted with your security told you Jonny Frost is here to ask for a meeting.

“I’m not sure, he says it’s an emergency. He has a little boy with him,” Nixon adds and you put aside the book you’re reading, intrigued. “Should I let him in?”

You nod a yes and furrow your eyebrows as soon as Frost enters the lounge: he’s carrying Alexis in his arms, the child fast asleep after the exhausting journey from Gotham to Los Angeles.

“Hello Y/N,” Jonny greets and you cut him off.

“What do you want?”

The Joker’s trusted henchman had a speech prepared for the encounter, yet given the current situation and the bitter look on your face he has to be as concise as possible.

“Mister J is very sick.”

“How is that any of my concern?!” you resentfully interrupt.

“Boss has to undergo a few surgeries since he can’t walk or talk properly,” Frost colors the big picture with a few carefully chosen words. “He left special instructions regarding his son: Mister J would like you to take care of Alexis in his absence.”

“Get out!” you snap and stand up from the couch. “Get out!” you repeat, disgusted by his demand. “The Joker has plenty of resources and people to fulfill his instructions. I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE!!!” you yell and the three years old is rubbing his eyes, almost woken up by the commotion. “How dare you come here and ask such a thing after what happened? Get out!”

“I didn’t know,” Jonny responds since he guessed exactly what you’re referring to. “I had no clue. And even if I knew, I couldn’t have said anything anyway,” his honesty doesn’t make it better. “Please take Alexis, I can’t go back with him; you know how Mister J is. Please Y/N,” Frost pleads and you bark:

“You have 20 seconds to disappear from my sight!!”

Nixon and four other goons approach, signaling Jonny to follow them because it’s evident the fuming Y/N is not thrilled with the uninvited guests. Frost has no other option besides leaving the premises, wondering how he’s going to explain his failure to The Joker.

“Ava!” you address the woman patrolling the western corridor of the house. “Have the crew ready in one hour, I need to pick up some diamonds from Enzo Neroni.”

Jonny is too far to discern the rest of the conversation and a simple plan flourishes in his brain: Enzo is one of the smugglers J uses on a regular basis also. Frost knows exactly where to find him and this might be the only chance that will act in his favor.

At this point he has nothing to lose.

************

“What is he doing here?” you point out at The Joker’s son as Enzo neatly places the purchased diamonds in tiny jewelry boxes.

“Uhh,” he shrieks. “Frost dumped him here until he can find a safe place for the kid. I guess his father will be out of commission for at least one month and he doesn’t want anyone messing with his offspring. I’m sure they’ll be some jumping at the opportunity. Get out of my way!” Enzo pushes the little boy and he falls on his knees, picking himself up afterwards. Alexis holds his teddy bear tighter, staring at all the strangers around and seems terrified.

“Can you not do that?” you smack your lips, aggravated.

“Do what?” Enzo halts his task. “You don’t want the gems in boxes? I can put them in pouches.”

“I was talking about the young boy,” you clarify your statement.

The smuggler lifts his shoulders up, defending his indifference.

“My warehouse is no place for children. Hey, don’t touch that!” he slaps Alexis’s hand when he reaches for a bottle of water on the table. “I didn’t say you can have it! I fucking hate kids,” he gives the three years old a mean look and it pisses you off.

“Are you thirsty?” you ask and snatch the water, opening the lid.

“U-hum,” Alexis barely manages to utter.

“Can I have this water or do I need permission too?” you mock and Enzo lifts his hands up in surrender, not wanting to initiate trouble. “Here,” you offer it to the little one and help him drink. He sure is thirsty since it takes a few good seconds before finishing. “Are you hungry?” and the child shrivels up, not answering your question. “Did you give him anything to eat?”

“No; I suppose I can send somebody to fetch some food when I have a moment,” Enzo groans and arranges the boxes inside the empty suitcase you came with.

“Do you think The Joker would be happy with that answer?” you frown and the reply bothers you more than it should:

“Mister J is not here, Y/N. I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances.”

“Your best sucks!” you mutter and take the hasty decision that will change the future for the parties involved, even if you don’t know it yet. “Where are his things?”

“In my van. Why?” Enzo is curious to hear.

“He’s coming with me, that’s why! Nixon, get the diamonds,” you order the bodyguard and you extend the palm of your hand, waiting for Alexis to take it. “Come on, let’s go,” you force a grin on your face and the little boy stalls until you encourage him again. “Come on,” and the small fingers are finally trapped within yours. “Don’t be scared, it’s ok,” you walk at his pace towards the exit.

Once you and your team are gone, Enzo dials Frost’s number and informs:

“She took him.”

Jonny is not big on religion but feels that today he was granted divine intervention.

“Oh thank God! That was so close to disaster,” he sighs, relieved.

“You better tell Mister J I didn’t do anything to his son! You know she’ll talk, I don’t want him coming after me. Tell him I actually helped and it was part of the plan. Do you fucking understand? I don’t want any trouble!”

“I’ll tell him,” Frost reassures and Enzo hangs up, wondering if it was wise to get involved in the messy situation.

**************

“I’ll tuck you in,” you pull the warm covers on top of Alexis and he anxiously wiggles after another thunder strikes in the distance. “It’s alright, it’s just a storm,” you try to make the little boy relax.

You were gone for most of the day and Ava was left in charge of the kid; at least he was bathed, fed and changed in clean clothes, undoubtedly safe under your roof just like his father wished.

“My name is Y/N. What’s your name?” you adjust his stuffed teddy bear under the blankets.

“Alexis…” he shyly whispers and gulps when another strong thunder shakes the house.

“That was close,” you wink and he nervously whimpers, distracted by the loud noise.

“Whe’s mommy?” Alexis suddenly asks. “I…I want my daddy,” his eyes get teary because he doesn’t know you and he’s frightened.

A three years old can’t possibly fathom why he doesn’t see his mother anymore and why his dad disappeared also.

“They’re not here…” you bite on your cheek. “You’ll stay with me for a while.”

“I want my moommyyy,” the boy starts crying and you don’t really know what to do.

You get under the covers and pull him in your arms, attempting to comfort an agitated child that squirms to escape the stranger’s embrace.

“Ssssstt, it’s ok,” you keep on gently rocking him and another powerful thunder makes Alexis instinctively cling to your nightgown. “You’re ok, it’s just nasty weather. It will go away,” you caress his hair with one hand and use the other to hug him again. “There you go, don’t cry. It’s fine…” you smile and his eyes gaze into yours, totally immersed in your soothing presence. “Ssstttt, you’re good,” you cuddle with the kid, protectively holding him until his body is not tense anymore.

The Joker’s son is falling asleep and even if the raging tempest wreaks havoc outside, someone showing him affection after being tossed around all day makes him cozy. Alexis has no idea that the woman tricked into taking care of him has no obligation to do so; in fact quite the opposite. His luck has changed tonight especially since there are several groups interested in taking advantage at J’s present misfortune.

The secret is out and can’t be swept under the carpet: The King of Gotham was married and he does have a child. With many enemies lurking in the darkness waiting for a chance to strike, it’s a miracle it didn’t happen yet.

But a miracle never lasts for long and destiny has a funny way of making everyone pay their debts.

Or send unexpected help from a person that shouldn’t lift a finger in granting safe haven to a little boy that reminds Y/N of his father’s deception.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

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