#feel free to correct me on some things or debate me

[rhys-ravenfeather]

In Defense Of Kevin McCalister

WARNING: Super long, pointless rant/character analysis about a now 33-year-old movie coming up.

You have been warned.

Also, disclaimer: it has been years at this point since I've seen Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, and I'm like 99% sure that Home Alone 4 is set in the Bizarro Universe, given that all the original characters are played by new actors. So I won't be counting the events from either of those movies for this post, just the first movie. Also, for that reason I'm just going to keep referring to Marv and Harry as the 'Wet Bandits' throughout this whole post, instead of going back and forth between calling them that and the Sticky Bandits.

Anyway! It's December now, and I think at this point everyone and their dog theorizing about how Kevin is a psychopath, or sociopath, or grew up to be Jigsaw (no, really, for those who don't know that IS an actual theory) because of the torture he put the Wet Bandits through is almost as much a holiday tradition as actually watching the movie.

But I finally got to rewatch the movie recently, and I have a few thoughts.

I. The McCallisters

So um, I don't know about you guys, but from what we see of the entire extended McCallister family at the beginning of the movie, they kinda seem like a lowkey toxic bunch:

Okay, maybe 'toxic' is a bit much--to their credit, there are a lot of extra people in that house, they're about to go abroad for a trip, so it's not surprising that everyone would be stressed out and tensions are running high.

But that doesn't make their behavior right.

Early on, we see the family, kids included, pushing their stress and misery onto each other, and especially onto Kevin. Granted, Kevin himself is kind of a brat at the start of the movie, but guess what?

He's still an eight-year-old kid.

He's the youngest, at least in his immediate family, and the whole night he's either ignored by the adults, insulted by his siblings and cousins, no one bothers to help him pack, and he's told he'll have to bunk with his cousin, who is a bed-wetter. That's a LOT for a kid to deal with, and with everything piling up, can you really blame him for snapping over something as simple as a cheese pizza?!?!?

So to sum up: This eight-year-old boy spends the entire night getting dumped on and looked down on by all his older family members, and in the one moment he finally dares to retaliate, it results in a mess that gets all of them even angrier at him, and he's sent to his room angry and upset, and feeling like all of them hate him.

You're really going to tell me that none of you ever had an experience like this with your families as a kid????????

Can you really blame him for wishing his family away after a night like that?!?!?

Also just a quick side note: Someone else pointed out that, well, Kevin thought he made his family disappear. So it's not really surprising that the kid would probably think he's tough enough to take on two grown adults after that.

Now, that all being said, let's talk about:

II. The Wet Bandits

Look, I'm not going to act like I didn't wince watching some of the torture Marv and Harry went through, especially Marv stepping on nails and Christmas ornaments...talk about agony of the feet (don't boo me, that's the actual trope name!)

But there's one teeny, tiny little thing I think most people tend to overlook when talking about these guys, and the hell they went through...

MARV AND HARRY ARE CRIMINALS.

We literally start the movie with Harry pretending to be a cop to get information on the McCallister's home, and their security defenses, so that he can rob the place with Marv later.

And okay, to their credit, it's not like the pair start off trying to hurt Kevin right off the bat.

Doesn't change the fact that they were still planning to rob his home, and very likely WOULD hurt him if/when they found him in the house they were planning to rob.

And yeah yeah, the McCallisters seem to live in a rich neighborhood, and seem very well-off themselves, but you can't tell me that you would see THIS outside your house:

And NOT get scared, especially if you were a small child left at home with no family to help and protect you.

Kevin doesn't go full Jigsaw on them right away--in this scene, after tricking the pair into leaving by turning the lights on, he runs and hides under the bed, like the scared child that he is.

To address another post that I've seen once--'KeViN cOuLd HaVe CaLlEd ThE pOlIcE aNy TiMe!' No. He couldn't have. The phone lines were down.

Also, the police, for most of the movie, seem uncaring at best--when his mother calls the police to get them to check on her son, they all but roll their eyes when talking to this worried, scared mother who wants to make sure her son is safe, and while a police officer DOES come to check on the kid eventually, Kevin is still too scared from seeing the burglars to answer the door. Because, again, he is a confused, scared child.

And again, the very first 'police officer' we see in this movie is revealed to be one of the very criminals trying to rob his house.

And yet, when the kid accidentally steals a toothbrush (because he was scared of his neighbor, who was in the store with him), a cop goes after him.

Oh yeah, and it's not like Kevin goes full torture technician on the Wet Bandits the SECOND time they come around either--just uses a lot of dummies, cut-outs, and strings, as well as Christmas music, to make it seem like the house is full of people.

Then the Wet Bandits find out they've been had.

And it's then, and ONLY THEN, that Kevin turns his house into a Saw trap--remember, these grown men are dangerous criminals who fully intended to rob his place, and again, it's not a stretch of the imagination to think that, even though they didn't want to hurt him originally, they wouldn't have ANY PROBLEM WHATSOEVER doing so when they came to his house again after finding out that he tricked them.

TL;DR: KEVIN WAS A LITERAL CHILD WHO WAS LEFT TO FEND FOR HIMSELF AGAINST TWO BAD PEOPLE WHO WOULD HAVE HURT HIM, OR *WORSE* IF GIVEN THE CHANCE JUST TO GET WHAT THEY WANTED, AND WAS JUST TRYING TO PROTECT HIMSELF.

[bleue-flora]

I want to debate with you over dsmp lore but I'm terrified you'll hate me

Hate? I won’t hate you for having an opinion, everyone has a right to one and I’m happy you have one :D especially if it’s your opinion not purely someone else’s (not to say it can’t align with someone else but it’s yours as in your not just mindlessly repeating someone if that makes sense…). And typically there is a little truth in both sides. Even in the times I’ve disagreed with people it has made me question things. Like for example my conversation with elmhat about c!Quackity prompted me to ask the question: why do I see him as unempathic and find no sympathy for him? Was he not betrayed? Was he not hurt? Was he not discriminated against and overlooked? Why is it that I can be so against him when some of the same things I sympathize with Dream on happened with Quackity. Which then spurred my research into Antisocial Personality Disorder (disorder relating to psychopaths and sociopaths) and Audience Perception. So even if I disagree or dislike what you have to say, I’m not going to hate you for it, and it’ll likely make me question why I think differently, often spurring my dive into lore where I usually find other fun things.

Like this funny clip with c!Schlatt and c!Quackity I discovered last night where c!Schlatt says that Austin Show is dead with him, which almost implies he’s some secret additional mystery character drifting in limbo?…

unless of course we consider that c!Schlatt also talks about the picture on his wall as his Dad who runs the gym with him… man seems to be going insane to be honest and who can blame him, he’s spent how many decades in limbo?…

Anyways, having said that, while certainly optional, definitely not required or necessary or expected, I’ll just let you know as an autistic person I do appreciate sources because there are a lot of times I forget about something or didn’t know and I want to see for myself, not because I don’t personally trust you but because my general rule to the internet is to not pass something on as truth just because someone said that because even in the context outside of dsmp analysis that’s how misinformation spreads so fast.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

[gothghostiie]

replaying some of mwii and price saying "slow and steady" has given me price teaching babysitter!reader how to suck cock brain worms

cw: oral/handjob (reader giving), Virgin/inexperienced! reader, implied age gap, facial, corruption kink if you squint, gn!reader

you're so fucking inexperienced, it almost makes him feel bad for getting as hard as he does when you look at him with those pretty eyes. you look at him with trust and admiration, his baby on your hip making it even worse. he wants to grab you, kiss you, manhandle you, fucking hell, if he could he'd press you face down into his pillow and take your innocence right then and there. but he had to go to some spontaneous meeting, he had to fucking leave you. he stays strong, smiling at you and ruffling your hair as he leaves. "behave, yea? both of ya." he says with a wink, your giggle making his cock twitch.

once in the car and on the road he's really debating jacking off so he doesn't have to go into the meeting with a boner, maybe it would even help him later so he doesn't get painfully hard the moment you say hi to him when he's back. he ultimately decides against it, he's a grown man for fucks sake, he needs to control himself. so he goes through the meeting, it gives him some distraction, at least until he's back in the car. it's already dark when he's coming back, quietly unlocking the door. he prays you're asleep so he can just put a blanket over you and let you sleep, but you're awake. you smile brightly as he comes in, a soft "hi Mr. Price!" coming from your lips.

"John." he corrects in a stern but gentle voice, taking off his jacket, it makes you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, John." you say in a teasing tone, sometimes he wonders if you really are this innocent or if you just act like it. but god, if he wasnt as stressed as he was from the god damn meeting his cock would already be hard again. he just sighs and drops on the couch next to you, head fallen back and body slack. you tilt your head with a frown. "whats wrong?" the words make his heart flutter.

"just stressed, is all. dont worry your little head, love." he murmurs, reaching out to gently pat you on the head. you hum a bit.

"is there anything i can do to help you relax?" you ask, his mind immediately down the gutter. he suddenly wants to tell you all the nasty things he wants to do to you, shove your face into his crotch to make you nuzzle his cock, but he just stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours before looking at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but the look on your face makes him stop. your eyes are wide and glued to the bulge in his jeans, your mouth hanging open. his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, he fumbles with his words.

"bloody hell - fuck, 'm sorry, I-" he pauses as he looks at your face properly. the shock isnt mixed with disgust as he initially thought, oh no. it's the opposite. you look curious, almost intrigued. he holds his breath as you make eye contact, then asks quietly. "do you want to help?" he asks, voice low and husky, filled with anticipation and a bit of fear of rejection. "you don't have to, if you don't wanna." he says gently, making sure you don't feel forced.

"i.. I never.. did anything.." is all you can get out, voice tinged with embarrassment. despite already being very sure you're a Virgin he's still mildly surprised to hear you say it, eyebrows raising a bit.

"I can teach ya. if you want." you hesitate for just a second before nodding, his heart skips a beat.

"okay.." you say softly. he has to take a moment before he nods softly, hands going to his belt and trying to not just rip it open.

"I'll just show you, so you can get familiar with him, yea? if you wanna stop at any point you tell me. understood?" his tone is serious, he waits until you nod before letting his fat cock spring free, slipping his pants and underwear down just enough so you see his heavy balls. your face heats up, mouth dropping open again as you stare at it, the tight balls, the angry, red tip, all have been begging for release for hours, and finally they'll get it. he waits until you seem a bit more composed before reaching his hand to you. "gimme your hand darling." he orders gently, you put your hand into his. your skin feels like heaven under his calloused fingers, even better as he wraps it around his trembling cock. he groans, squeezing your hand as he holds it in place; your fingers can't even fully wrap around it. it twitches eagerly, tip weeping as he guides your hand up and down slowly. low moans escape his lips, eyes lidded as he holds back. "you okay bird?" he pants, his voice a bit more rough than usual.

you nod, your trembling hand slowly moving at your own pace, watching intently. it makes him chuckle, letting go of your hand and putting it on your head, petting you as a silent praise. "doin well, love. keep going for me, yea?" he murmurs, you nod again. his tip starts leaking precum, you bite your lip. "don't do that. your lips are so pretty darlin." he frowns, his own words burning the image of your lips wrapped around his dick into his brain. he hesitates before speaking again.

"want to try sucking it?" he asks gently, your eyes widen. you hesitate again, his hand cups your cheek softly. "don't worry. I'll help ya."

"..okay." you say, taking a breath. his hand slides to the back of your head, guiding you closer - kissing your forehead before guiding you down.

"open your mouth nice and wide. watch your teeth." you open up wide, tongue sticking out a bit, he guides you down just so the tip is in your mouth. "wrap your lips around it." you follow his order and he groans, straining to not cum right this second. he takes a breath before speaking again. "now suck a bit. start gently and slowly do more. run your tongue over it too." he instructs in a soft murmur. "it might taste a little funny." you suck softly and lick the tip, making a face and pulling back. he laughs, patting your head softly. "I warned you darling. that bad?" he grins as you lick your lips.

"no... just.. surprised me.." you admit in embarrassment, taking a deep breath before dipping your head and trying again. this time you don't pull back, John's hand rests on the back of your head as he breaths heavily.

"good job, sweetheart... thinking you can try bobbing ya head a bit?" his jaw is slack, eyes rolled back when you actually do it - way too fast and too deep for your first time. as much as he loves the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, the immediate gag and your face scrunching up in discomfort break his heart. he grabs your head firmly but not roughly, pulling your head up just enough to make you look at him. "don't do that. who taught you that?" he asks sternly, you shrink a bit under his gaze.

he hums. "try again. do it slow and steady." he says lowly, the tone making you shiver. you nod softly, letting him push you down much, much slower, letting him guide your head as your lips wrap around his cock again. "there we go. just like that, bird." he groans, already closer than he wants to be. he slowly guides it deeper into your warm mouth, your adorable attempts at using your tongue making his tip leak again. it doesn't take long before his hips stutter. "fuck... gonna cum, angel..- " he grunts, voice strained as he pulls you back, free hand wrapping around the base of his cock to steady himself as he cums all over your face. you gasp loudly, eyes shut tied and mouth open in shock as the warm, sticky liquid hits your skin. his moans quickly turn into chuckle as he sees the state of you. "aw, sweetheart, are you alright?" he cackles, shaking his head.

still chuckling he reaches to the coffee table and grabs a tissue, wiping your face off quickly before pulling you to his chest, kissing your head. "there you are, good job darlin. you okay?" he asks again, rubbing your back as you nod. "good... I'll get you a cup of water."

───── ⋆⋅Taglist⋅⋆ ─────

@captainchrisstan @maplewhisk

[astraystayyh]

seungmin taking off his mask brainrot. allusion to sex but no smut. still mdni.

honestly i struggled with tagging this, because it's not smut but also not fluff either hshshs enemies to fwb??? anyways i hope this reaches its target audience,, enjoy <33 (lowercase intended)

seungmin is an asshole.

you don't like him. he's always around, nagging you, throwing unnecessary comments your way about every little thing you do or say. if it were solely up to you, you wouldn't talk to him ever again. but he's jeongin's best friend, who also happens to be your best friend, so seeing him is inevitable.

he's there sipping on his iced americano, wispy bangs falling in front of his brown eyes, fixated on you. he's there sitting across of you in the campus garden, hitting your leg repeatedly with his foot. he's there at jeongin's dorm, who also happens to be his roommate, strolling around shirtless with no care in the world.

he's infuriating, everything about him makes you mad. from the way he smiles proudly when he sees that he's getting on your nerves, to the way he leans his face onto yours, faking interest in whatever you are saying.

seungmin is an asshole, and to your surprise, he's here to pick you up.

you know it's him, from the red converse he is wearing, and his familiar black leather jacket. you can also tell from the hands gripping the handles of the motorcycle. they aren't clad with rings, so it can't be jeongin. the friend who was actually supposed to pick you up.

you half debate staying home, cursing jeongin in your brain for forcing you to spend more time with seungmin. but you really wanted to go to that party chan is hosting. you needed the free alcohol, badly.

so you huff, as seungmin takes his sweet time parking, mentally preparing to curse him too. but the words die in your throat as soon as he removes his helmet.

he has caramel colored hair now.

he slides off the motorcycle, running an easy hand through his hair. it looks soft, and you wonder what it smells like. citrus, maybe, or pinewood. he then leans onto his engine, smirking at you slightly. you roll your eyes, taking one step forward towards him.

"i think you're obsessed with me."

"yeah? why is that?" he smiles, tilting his head to the side, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

"you just had to pick me up right. couldn't stand being away from me that badly?"

"correct." he doesn't deny and you huff, grabbing the second helmet and putting it on.

"let's make this as short as possible."

"my pleasure," he bows slightly and you bite your lip, trying to suppress the tiniest smile from coming out. you really liked his hair, it made his honeyed eyes stand out more.

he gets on first, and you follow suit. you were used to riding with jeongin but this is your first time doing it with seungmin. you hesitate for a couple of seconds, before wrapping your arms loosely around his waist.

"hold tight," he tells you, adding a soft "please" after a few silent beats. you oblige, and then he takes off with no further warning.

the drive is short, and you can't seem to focus on anything but the warmth emanating from seungmin's body. you are hyper aware of your thighs pressing against his, and his broad back snug against your chest. it feels intimate, for some odd reason, and you almost close your eyes to fully savor it. almost.

when you arrive, you're quick to hop off, handing your helmet to seungmin. he takes it from you silently, before removing his own too.

strands of his hair stay upwards and you debate internally for a second, before reaching to smooth them down.

you were right, his hair is incredibly soft to the touch.

"you look pretty," he says. and he sounds sincere- different from how he usually speaks to you.

"thank you," you reply quietly, " i like your new hair."

"really? I'm not sure if it suits me," he admits, running a hand through it self-consciously. it felt weird, to see him anything but confident and boastful.

"it does. what shampoo do you use?"

"i don't know. something citrusy, i think."

"figured."

....

your naked chest is pressed to seungmin's, limbs so tangled you can no longer tell where your body ends and his begins.

you didn't exactly plan on ending up here tonight, you weren't even sure how this happened. you just couldn't take your eyes off seungmin's hair, and then his eyes landed on your lips and suddenly he was leading you to the nearest bedroom.

but you don't mind, not when seungmin looks this way. the light is dim and dark shadows reflect on his face. there is a sheen layer of perspiration on his upperbrow, and you imagine you must look the same. sweaty and slightly dazed, a pink hue adorning your cheeks.

seungmin traces your lips with his thumb, going over your cupid bow ever so slowly. it makes shivers run down your spine, and you huddle closer to him. as close as you physically could anyways, since you were practically glued to him.

"had i known this would happen i would've died my hair sooner," he smirks cheekily and that brings you to his hair again. you run your hand through its soft locks gently. a stark contrast to how hard you were tugging them moments ago.

"mm, it's all because of this caramel color," you smile back, its citrusy scent wafting to your nose. "i really like your shampoo."

"are you turned on by scents?" he jokes and you swat his arm, leaning a bit away from him.

"it just smells nice. sue me."

"it's okay, you smell nice too," he chuckles, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. you appreciate it. it makes you feel less weird about how affected you are by him.

"i... i told jeongin that i wanted to pick you up," he mumbles onto your skin and you feel yourself tense slightly. "why?"

"wanted to see you first," he says quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. it makes you dizzy. you don't find him infuriating any more.

"let's talk about this later," you finally reply, pulling him away from you.

"mm. what do you want to do now?" he smiles, grazing your naked arm with the back of his hand.

you straddle his lap, swiping his bangs away from his forehead. that damned hair of his.

"you."

[batsythoughts]

Could I request a plantontic yandere batfam x singer female reader

Context - they got concert tickets, and as they heard the reader ring, it reminded bruce on his mother singing voice

This is adorable and made my heart hurt thinking about Bruce's dead mom. But we cope with delusion in this household! And I tried to keep descriptions to a minimal about outfits so if would be as inclusive as possible for all the readers and styles out there! Also made this a little angsty before the kidnapping because I needed at hurt/comfort really bad, even if it's kinda toxic. But I hope you all enjoy!

Here is Yandere Batfam x Female Singer Reader!

Dick had won a couple of tickets from a radio station... correction, Dick, Stephanie, Duke, and Barbara called different stations multiple times until they won enough tickets for the whole family to go to the concert together

Bruce was initially going to refuse going with the fact that he knew nothing about what the artist was like, but the kids were able to convince him after an hour of debating

The day of the concert, they arrived to find the venue filled with only half of what the maximum capacity was

Dick just shrugged it off when Bruce asked about it, saying it was because you were still somewhat new to the whole music scene

They stood around in their spots somewhat close to the stage while waiting for the show to start

Bruce still felt unsure about the whole situation as he watched the kids excitedly take group pictures

He always smiled when they had him in the picture, but still held internal doubts about enjoying the style of music that this singer used

It also didn't help his concerns with the fact that he could clearly see the empty spaces in the venue

Damian also looked around with a small scowl at the empty spaces before looking up at his father with skepticism in his expression as well

When the singer finally walked out onto the stage, Bruce's older children let out loud cheers while he and Damian respectfully clapped

The introduction was short with an acknowledgement of the people and happy wave before the show started

The kids happily sang along with the songs as they danced in the spots they had with eagerness

Bruce nodded along with them, though he didn't quite seem to understand the deeper meaning of the lyrics that he knew was in a few of the songs

The most important thing was that all the kids were enjoy themselves and having fun together at this concert

It was the final song when Bruce felt a tug on his heartstrings at the slow melody and melancholy words that sounded through the speakers

He went back to his childhood when his mother would sing a lullaby to him when Bruce was upset or couldn't go to sleep

The girls noticed the miniature grin that appeared on Bruce's face as the song got close to the end

They all applauded with more loud cheers to the performer gave a small bow with a wide grin

"Thank you, wonder citizens of Gotham! I really appreciated singing for you all tonight." You cheerfully spoke into the microphone. Slowly walking around the stage while looking at everyone in the audience. "And I'm glad to spend the next few days performing here. So if you see me around the city, feel free to come up and say hi!"

Stephanie and Barbara hollered in encouragement at the news while Duke and Jason whistled and clapped. Everything was going well in the whole venue until a some guy a few rows behind them yelled at the top of his lungs. "Kill yourself, talentless bitch!"

Most of the people around the area started loudly scolding the guy, the boys included as the girls made sure to hold them back

Bruce kept his eyes on you as he watched your smile falter as you looked down

He could feel the sadness radiating off you as you took a moment to breathe before raising the mic and speaking in a soft voice, "Alright then, have a goodnight Gotham."

They all turned back around to watch you quickly walk off the stage without the excited energy you had at the start

Bruce made sure to stay behind a few minutes longer than necessary

He didn't want them getting into a yelling match in the parking lot if they caught a glimpse of the guy

They each got an souvenirs to keep as a momento of the night before leading everyone out to the car to return to the manor

He had just unlocked the doors when a car pulled into the parking lot and stopped a little ways away from them

Before any of them got in the car, the door opened and you stepped out and headed towards the door

The kids shared individual looks before briskly walking over to catch up to you, Bruce even joining them after a moment

"Hey! Wait up!" Jason hollered as they all finally caught up to you. Though they did stop a few feet away to give you space.

You turned around while wiping your cheeks with your jacket sleeve. Forcing a weak smile to your face as you looked at each of them. "Hey. How are you all doing? Having a good night, I hope."

Duke nodded his head as his arms crossed over his chest. A glint of concern in his eyes as he looked you over. "We're doing good. We were just about to leave for the night."

Barbara nodded along as she took a step closer. Her voice holding a cheerful note when she spoke, "Yeah! The show was fantastic and you have such amazing songs."

"Thank you. I'm glad you all enjoyed yourselves tonight." You tell them all with a absent-minded nod. Rubbing your arms before looking at the ground. "I'm sorry the end sucked though."

"That wasn't your fault, so don't apologize." Dick cut in with a soft, but firm, tone. Shaking his own head as he crossed his arms. "That guy had no right to say that to you."

"Are you alright?" Damian asked, a touch of tenderness in his eyes as he looked upon your form.

You give a hesitant nod to the young boys question. "I'll be okay. Just have to get through the next couple days and then I'm taking a break. Spend some time out of the public eye, figure out some new songs, and just figure a few things out."

Bruce took notice of the pain in your eyes, even though you weren't looking right at him. He knew it well from seeing it so many times in his own children. He took a moment to find the right words before finally speaking up.

"You do have a great talent. It is shameful that not everyone can acknowledge that without being understanding of your emotions. We are all sorry that you experienced that hatred tonight."

The moment you looked at Bruce, with what he could only describe as pleading eyes, he felt his heart tug. Placing a hand on your shoulder, Bruce gave you a gentle smile while reencouraging your confidence. "You did great tonight. We, along with almost every else that saw the show tonight, thought your music was amazing."

The look in your eyes with the glow of the street lights softening as you give a final nod. Finally giving them all a small, genuine smile. "Thank you. I appreciate the kind words." Looking over the group, you bite your lips before hesitantly asking, "Is there anything I can do to show my thanks?"

Most of them started to deny the idea, even dismissively waving their hands. "Actually," the voice of Stephanie cut in as she reached into her pocket, "do you think we could get a picture?"

One picture turned into a couple with each of them before Bruce eventually got everyone in the car

They hadn't even gotten home before Tim and Steph had seen you post on multiple platforms about taking a break after the end of your current tour

What seemed worse to them was the fact that all the comments were mixed with encouragement for the decision along with more disheartening messages for you to simply quit

Bruce clearly told everyone that they wouldn't involve themselves in the online drama

They each hesitantly agreed before letting their attention drift to other topics

The next couple days went by like usual for the family, but the kids did occasionally checked each time you posted to make sure everything was alright

How could they not still feel that little nagging worry in the back of their minds? You were a good person, even if they didn't know you all that well

Occasionally, Bruce would hum one of your songs to himself and one of the other members would hear

They never said anything about it until one night at dinner, Alfred asked him what was intriguing about the singer they saw perform

When Bruce finally admitted that your voice reminded him of his late mother

All the kids shared a look as they realized that Bruce was feeling an emotional connection towards you

With it being the last night of your tour, Dick, Barbara, and Duke all decided to go to the venue in hopes of getting Bruce an autograph while the others kept him distracted

They had pulled into the parking lot as all the cars had begun to leave with the exception of a few, including the one they remembered watching you drive

They waited for a few minutes before watching you and a couple others come walking out

They watched you all share a few words before the others got in a car and drove off, leaving you alone

Each of them waited for a moment before leaving the car and cautiously walking over to you

Each hesitated being the first one to call out to you as you simply stood there with your head down

"Hey. Are you alright?" Barbara finally called out in a soft voice. The boys standing close by with equal concern as they watched you.

You lifted your head up in surprise at the sudden appearance of the people in front of you. Rubbing your hand over your face before nodding your head. "Yeah, just... my manager and I had creative differences on what I should do with my next few months. So he decided he would give me a card for someone else for when I wanted to get back in the game."

Dick scoffed at the action of your 'manager'. Crossing his arms as he glares in the direction the car went in. "Some people, huh? Can't even see you as anything more than a way to get rich." A grunt of disapproval leaves his throat before looking at you with softer eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I will be. Just figuring out what to do for the night," you admit to them with a sigh. "I can't go back to the hotel and have them continue the disagreements. Do you all know of a nice motel nearby?"

"Absolutely not." Duke immediately shot down the idea with a frown. Dick and Barbara nod along in agreement at the thought of you in this town by yourself. "However... the manor has plenty of room. I'm sure it would be fine if you stayed for one night."

You looked at them with a small bit of shock at the offer before waving your hand in a dismissive manner. "I couldn't do that. I don't even know you all that well. I can't impose you all like that."

"Don't worry about that. We wouldn't offer if we didn't want to," Dick reassures you with a smile. Getting his keys out of his pocket again before walking towards their car. "We can stop by your hotel and Duke and I will go to your room to grab your things."

Which grab your things they do, with Barbara waiting in the car with you as she texts the others to inform them of the situation. The boys don't take longer than 15 before coming back and putting your things in the trunk.

When they get back to the manor, Damian is waiting for them in the entry way. His arms crossed as he glared at his older siblings. "Father knows you were gone. You need to tell him what you did." He then turned his attention towards you with a small nod. "I can show you to an available room."

You followed after the young boy with Duke carrying some of your things. Barbara gave Dick a pat on his shoulder. "Good luck with that. I'm going to grab some comfort food and drinks for our guest."

Dick stood there for a moment until he gave a sigh and made his way to Bruce's study. Finding the man sitting in his chair as if he was waiting for one of the kids. Closing the door, Dick waited a minute before finally speaking, "So, we were trying to do a thing."

Bruce listened patiently as Dick explained the whole situation. Rubbing his temple before standing to go and look for you in the room Damian had helped Alfred prepare less than an hour ago. When he got there, he saw all the girls lounging around with you resting on the bed.

He made eye contact with you before sending you a comforting smile. "You are welcome to stay as long as you need. There is bad storms coming through in the next few days, so don't worry about rushing to find a flight if you don't feel comfortable traveling in the weather."

You gave him a small smile before looking back down at your lap. Bruce looked at the girls who all smiled to show they would look after you. Stephanie was picking out different nail polish colors and holding them up for everyone else to see when she spoke, "Girls night. We'll get you if we need anything."

Bruce quietly closed the door behind him after telling them goodnight

He made sure to tell the boys to be on their best behavior while you were staying

None of them seemed to mind as Dick had informed them of what happened and how you were feeling from the ordeal

They all made sure to treat you well over the couple of days while you stayed

Each of them did their own thing to show that they wanted you to feel comfortable and welcome

Cass and Steph baked cookies with you, Jason read his books as you and Damian listened with the cat on dog relaxing with you, Dick would show you fun memes to make you smile, Tim and Duke invited you to movie nights, and Barbara made sure to do a nightly skin care routine to help calm you down every night before bed

It was about a week since you came to stay, and all the kids were worried because you had begun packing your things

Bruce had seen how anxious they were with idea of you leaving, and he himself also felt the worry deep in his chest

He went to your room with the intention of talking to you, finding you sitting on the bed while looking through your phone

He sat down on the bed next to you, seeing you looking through flight times with a message from who they all learned to be your ex-manager

He didn't read it all before you swiped it off the screen with a sniffle, but he saw enough to get the idea of how hurtful the whole message was

He made a small suggestion about you staying with them for a while until things got better

You made a comment about not wanting to impose on them and over staying your welcome

Bruce pulled you into a hug while saying, "We want you to have a system of people you can trust. And if that means you stay with us, then we want to do that for you."

Nothing else was said as you both sat there as you closed the tab for the flight tickets, weakly thanking Bruce as tears pricked the corner of your eyes

You both just sat for a couple before Bruce got up to give you space and inform the others of the new development

All the kids felt excitement for the fact you were staying, but didn't show it so you didn't think they were glad for your misfortune

Everyone continued to show you unconditional support, especially when you started to begin writing songs once again

Though they could tell you were struggling with figuring out the instruments of each song

Tim was able to convince Bruce to buy you a few programs on the computer they had put in your room

The grin that they saw after you began to look through the programs made the family feel the joy with you

Each time you got a new song composed, you played it for the family and get their thoughts of what could potentially be improved

Each time, they gave honest thoughts of the songs while keeping it as supportive of your feelings

You did single releases after every song got written to still remain in the music scene, but the family could tell something was off

Bruce eased into the topic one night at dinner between all the other conversations

At first you hesitated to open up, but with a little encouragement, you finally admitted to being worried about your career with the fact you were doing any live performances

Everyone listened to your worries about what to do for the foreseeable future

Jason was the one to finally ask the most important question for your choice

"Do you think you would be okay if you ever did another tour?"

You thought for a moment as you thought about all the possibilities of what could happen if you did a tour again

Finally, you shook your head as a mumble came from your mouth. "I don't think I could survive another tour like the one I had. But I don't want to burden you all."

Bruce shot down the notion of you being a burden, claiming they would never leave you alone to deal with everything by yourself

Everyone else chimed in with agreement as they talked about they would worry if you every left and got in the same state of mind again

Bruce stated that not matter what, you would always be welcome to remain with the family because you were now apart of it

A flicker of a grin appeared at the corner of your lip before you gave a nod in understanding

Each of them felt a sense of accomplishment for making you feel relaxed enough to remain with them, even if there was a tiny voice in their heads saying it was selfish to keep you in the manor

What did it matter anyway if you were happy with people who cared about you? The important thing was that you were safe with them.

[yusuke-of-valla]

So, Video Game Voice Actors Are On Strike: A Quick and Dirty Guide for Tumblr Users

Starting on July 26th, SAG-AFTRA members that are part of the Interactive Media Agreement (so mostly voice actors for video games) will be on strike. If you're a member of SAG-AFTRA with questions, I would speak to them.

Most of this information is coming from the SAG-AFTRA website, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about anything or ask if you need anything.

If you are a random tumblr user who wants to know what's going on, here we go.

Why are video game voice actors striking?

AI, as one could expect. From the union's statement:

Although agreements have been reached on many issues important to SAG-AFTRA members, the employers refuse to plainly affirm, in clear and enforceable language, that they will protect all performers covered by this contract in their A.I. language.

Which Games Are Being Struck?

Games from: Activision Productions Inc., Blindlight LLC, Disney Character Voices Inc., Electronic Arts Productions Inc., Formosa Interactive LLC, Insomniac Games Inc., Llama Productions LLC, Take 2 Productions Inc., VoiceWorks Productions Inc., and WB Games Inc. are all being struck.

There is also a website to confirm which union projects are being struck but you'd need to be a member actively working on it to use it.

Ok so I'm not a voice actor, union or otherwise, I just like games. What should I do.

I can NOT stress this enough. Do NOT stop playing games. The union has not asked for this, and is instead asking for people to amplify our messages online using #LevelUpTheContract, #VideoGameStrike and #SagAftraStrong."

You can also sign this petition in support of voice actors getting a fair deal.

I'm not a union representative but if a game you're looking forward to is being covered by the struck companies, I'd blow up your social media and their mentions with how much you love the voice acting and the actors deserve a fair contract, but other than that you are not being asked to boycott any games or not cosplay or attend events.

A Streamer is playing a struck game! Is that crossing the picket line?

No, SAG-AFTRA explicitly says that is fine, and in fact encourages it.

An actor is promoting/promoted a struck work at SDCC, is that crossing the picket line?

No, the statement explicitly says those attending SDCC can still do work there because of the short notice, they are also fine.

Wait didn't SAG-AFTRA already do some weird bullshit regarding video game voice actors and AI?

Yes, at the Consumer Electronics Show in January, SAG-AFTRA signed a deal with Replica AI to allow their members to create digital replicas, it was a whole thing and many voice actors were pissed.

So they're hypocrites?

Ok it's more complicated than that. Their logic for the Replica AI thing is rather than allow companies to do whatever they want, it was better to have a system in place to be able to clearly say when a company was breaking the rules and ensure that talent got some compensation.

We can debate the efficacy of that strategy all day and voice actors at the time were not happy, BUT the companies being struck here refuse to even rise to THAT standard and will not agree to the most basic protections for actors, which is worse.

People and organizations contain multitudes and it is not a betrayal or hypocritical to disagree with SAG-AFTRA leadership on the Replica AI situation and side with them, and more importantly their members in this case.

Why aren't game devs striking/ It's not devs on strike so I don't care

The Screen Actors Guild covers actors, so it would not be in everyone's best interest if they were to try and negotiate on behalf of people in different fields with different needs.

However, one way to build support for the various movements to unionize at places like Activision-Blizzard and Bethesda is to support labor movements everywhere and show solidarity whenever it comes up.

Why are the actors striking when the developers should be paid more.

They should be paid more! And they should not be laid off as much. One way to help with that is to be able to point to voice actors and say, hey they got a raise, I want one too.

[milf--adjacent]

serious voting question: I'm an ml and generally I don't vote. can I ask what your reasoning is for voting third party? I'm curious to round out my opinion a little better

Seeing just how many people voted socialist back in the 19-teens was an inspiration to me as a baby leftist growing up in a deep red state. Even if they didn't win, I saw that I wasn't alone like I felt I was, that even the 'stupid' people of the past had some sense in their heads and supported policy and politics we still need even today. So no. 1 it's for the baby leftists to come who will feel trapped and alone and need a tangible connection to their beliefs: The number of people who simply didn't vote doesn't show up in textbooks, but minor party votes do.

Second: the democratic campaigning apparatus only serves to seperate those willing to organize from meaningful organization. By convincing people to put that same energy into the third party of their choice, we have countered at least a little of the Democrat's anti-revolutionary strategy. If you can convince a progressive to actually act and vote like a progressive, that's someone who might actually help when you need to set up a soup kitchen or protest in the future.

Thirdly: Many of these "I'm gonna vote anyway so I might as well vote blue" folks have never engaged in organizing. Getting involved with 3rd parties puts them in touch with others who are of a similar political slant, the first (and often most difficult) step in organizing. At least with the Greens in most places, they actively ask for help of all sorts, giving people experience in organizing they can build on as they become more politically involved. More people who know how to organize is never a bad thing.

Fourthly: If a third party can get just 5% of the national vote in an election, they are entitled to national campaign funding and a space in the official debates in the coming election. This would be a much needed shift in American politics. Democrats sound much more like republicans than leftists, and that's part of why they never get involved in the free and equal debates: the democrats are to the right of the fucking libertarians on a number of policies.

Finally: if a 3rd party candidate did win the presidency, a lot of the good things the democrats have held over our heads like bait for decades would get done, and people would have more time and energy to commit to political actions. I support 3rd party politics because at the very least it shakes things up a little. The status quo is what's killing us and any effort to change that disorganizes and spreads our true enemies thinner. Center-left socialism will not save us, but it will at least address the social ills of our society in a helpful way and attempt to tackle crisies like climate change, policing, and ending foreign policy fiascos via slashing the bloated military budget (even the fucking libertarians are running on that).

The general population of the US will refuse to even consider actual leftist politics without some sort of shift in our electoral politics. Instead of apathy and middle-finger-hoisting inaction, I chose an action with lasting strategic value. If we want a real "the revolution will not be televised" moment, we have to slap the soma of blue-tie lies out of enough hands to get people to pay attention. 3rd party electoralism is a step in the correct direction for them and a path I have started many people down already. I plan to continue until there is no need for it.

[fictionstudent]

Novels are not movies.

Visual media has taken on the world by storm. It’s the next big thing in the evolution of humanity, maybe. It’s quite certainly changed the way we entertain ourselves. And with the recent spread of short-form content, visual media has also become cheap, disposable, and easily accessible to the masses—perfect recipe to make a product famous.

Alright, I’ve been a little too dramatic, lol. But for real, I’m one of those who’s severely addicted to Instagram Reels. Whenever I’m done scrolling, I feel like I’ve completely wasted my time—I could have read a novel, watched a movie, or caught up with my favorite mangas. But instead of all those ways to relax—and believe me (pwlease) that I only open Insta to relax, when I’m free—I just waste my time.

I love my novels and manga, mind ya, so when I catch myself wasting precious time that I could have instead used to consume them, I cuss myself. And then I go scroll some more Insta, because I’m an absolute idiot.

Anyway, back to the topic. Visual media has absolutely taken over our lives. I won’t go into the debate of whether this is a good thing or not, but we all can agree that it’s an undeniable fact. Video is everywhere.

Because—and lemme repeat myself—it’s cheap, disposable, and easily accessible today.

And because of such exposure to video storytelling, beginning authors forget that novels are not a visual medium. Yep, here goes my rant.

***

#01 - The Problem

The problem is simple—these kids have too much access to their smartphones. And these smartphones are filled with videos, like a dustbin with its lid hanging on because of all that garbage overfilling it. (Damn, I sound like a boomer.)

And therefore, when these new authors begin writing, they can’t help but imagine a sort of movie or a TV show as their story. And that’s where the problem is—novels are not supposed to be movies.

Movies are a visual media. That means they’re composed of pictures. Images. But guess what novels are composed of?

Text. Words.

It seems pretty basic. I mean, everybody knows this distinction. But what they don't know, however, are the implications of this distinction.

Personally, I began writing with film-novels too. And those novels are bad. Genuinely. I cringe at the fact that I could even mail editors and believe they’d accept them. Good thing they never did.

What’s a film-novel, though? Well, the idea is pretty clear—it’s a novel, but imagined in the form of a film. So, it’s like a film, but in text.

It’s like you’ve written the film as a novel, instead of writing it as a screenplay or something, maybe.

But you’d ask me—why? Why is it even a mistake? Everybody has a different writing style. And to that, I’d tell you one thing—the audience. The audience is different. The media is different. You can’t expect a cinephile to read your book. And since it’s not like a professional novel, a (Googles the correct term) bibliophile certainly won't.

So, who’s gonna read your story?

No one—because it’s neither a film, nor a novel. It’s a film-novel, an illogical mix of the two.

Everyone drinks water, and everyone likes ice-cream. But you can't… No, I’m not even completing that sentence. Ew.

Anyway, you get the idea, lol.

***

#02 - Identify

So, what does a film-novel even look like?

And for that, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you,

The lean figure was standing on the other side of the railing three floors up on the ground of the school building where children below were shouting and kicking football upon each other, wearing white football jerseys. The figures, as they ran all over the ground, seemed very small as I looked at them. The goalkeeper of the right side, who was just beneath my white shoe, kicked the ball so hard that it flew in air and went directly to the other foot of mine. The other players shouted “Whoaaa!” as they saw the ball flying. But suddenly, two of them looked upwards and saw me. One of them pointed towards me and then shouted, “Hey, who’s he?!” All the other players started walking towards that boy who was in the middle of the field with their heads tilted up above on me. Another one shouted, “Hey! What’cha doin’, eh?!” My narrow eyes, which had dark spots beneath them, looked at the boys from behind my spectacles. I then moved my head a little up and saw my shiny gakuran jacket fluttered by my shiny yellow colored buttons as the wind started blowing from my left side. I was able to feel the wind dancing upon my soft skin as I closed my eyes and turned my head upwards. I took a deep breath, and then exhaled it out with my mouth. I then again took a breath. This time, when I exhaled it out with my mouth, I was able to feel the saliva of my mouth upon my lips. I tilted my head and turned towards my arm, which was trembling a little. Both of my hands were still holding the railing of the school’s rooftop. I then turned left and then looked on my other arm. “Hey! Get down!” One of the persons from beneath shouted. I turned my narrowed eyes towards the ground, the teachers, a large gang of footballers and students, and some even workers had gathered in a circle. I turned my head towards the front. I looked at a couple of brown colored and blue-green colored houses in front of me, which stood high and mighty. Beneath them was the clear blue sky.

A wall of text!

Warning: you don’t really need to read all of it. But you probably did, lol.

Anyway, it’s the opening scene from one of my first novels. And, as much as I hate to say this—it’s pretty sh*t. It has a lot of problems—no paragraph divisions, for example, as well as a lot of grammatical mistakes too. But the biggest problem with the text is that it’s just images.

Reading this text, I dare you to highlight one single sentence that might tell you anything about the narrator.

The narrator is narrating the motions, not the emotions.

(Damn, that was a dope line to say, man.)

The narrator is only telling you about the images and actions and dialogues and thoughts. Even though it’s in first-person POV, you feel distant from the narrator. And, even in third-person POV, authors are supposed to make sure the distance between the narrator and the reader remains at a minimum.

That’s how you get a film-novel—that’s filled with scene-descriptions, actions, and dialogues. There’s no narrations in it. The readers don’t know the thoughts of these characters.

***

#03 - Is it really a problem, though?

Well, you might ask me—is it really such a big problem?

Heck yeah.

The reason is pretty simple, actually—no one wants to read a film-novel. These novels are filled with only descriptions and actions—that’s too much of mental effort. these novels make their readers keep on imagining stuff, and no reader wants to do that.

Because it’s easier to look at pictures than to imagine them based on text. And that’s why your film-novels won’t work.

See, you need to understand this—novels are different than film. Sure, novels are a form of storytelling too, and they do include visual effort, such as descriptions, action, and all that. But, all that is not the main selling point of a novel.

The main selling point of a novel is the emotions. Emotions captured in words, in situations—caught in context like a butterfly in a child’s hand. Films can display emotions, but novels put those emotions into words.

Narration is what forms the greatest part of a novel. Narration is where a novel actually shines. Narration is what the readers come to read.

And, as you could guess, films don’t narrate. Consider this,

And rain made him feel like crying. He gulped down, trying to keep the lump of his throat in check. He couldn’t cry in the middle of so many other kids. They’ll ask questions, and what will he say to them, huh?

He was sorry.

For what?

For everything he did. And for everything he didn’t.

The day had just begun. It’d be long before it ends, y’know. He just couldn't wait for it to end. There was no lifting up his mood. Not until tomorrow.

How do you display this in a film? The answer—you can't. However hard you try, you can't.

Such narrations are where the art of novels shine. Such narrations are what differentiates a novel from a visual media.

***

#04 - Is it really a problem, though? (pt.ii)

All this talk constantly reminds me of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. It’s a literary achievement and really experimental in a lot of stuff that it does. For example, the novel has no dashes or apostrophes—and it’s not like these punctuation marks were not needed, they’re just not used. So, you’d find a lot of grammatical mistakes throughout the text.

And also, one thing that McCarthy ignored—and that’s relevant to the discussion we’re having—is that there’s literally zero narration. Zero.

McCarthy adopts a style that’s similar to a third-person POV, and is kinda like how I used to write when I was little—just with paragraphs and better scene-descriptions and action-descriptions. A lot better, as you can observe if you read his work.

Anyway, he didn’t have any narrative elements in his text. So the readers don’t really know what these characters are thinking or planning to do. They just know that these characters are somehow surviving.

I don’t wanna give away most of the plot of the novel, but the basic premise of the novel is that there’s a father-son duo who’s been caught in this apocalypse-type situation, and are traveling down the road to the south part of the country to escape the harsh winters that the north experiences. The novel doesn’t reveal a lot—the readers don’t know the names of these characters, the thoughts of the characters are hidden most of the time, and you don’t know what actually happened that most of humanity is dead and society is completely gone.

Now, McCarthy did it for a reason. A scarcity of punctuation marks reflects a form of scarcity in the scenery around them. Because most of it is, well, gone. Humanity is gone, and stuff is decaying. You don’t find fresh food anymore. Scavenge all you want—one day, all the canned food will expire, and there will be nothing to eat. Except fruits and veggies, that need to be grown somewhere. And nobody likes the latter, honestly.

And the scene-descriptions are so tough to read. They’re an actual pain. I have had a really hard time deciphering most of it, because the vocab is too high, and probably the sentences do not flow into each other easily. I can’t say anything about the sentences if I don’t understand them, y’know.

But, man, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s why McCarthy wrote the descriptions in this way—to symbolize the mental stress that the characters go through as they experience this world, this form of reality that they were not meant to be in.

And maybe the novel is so lacking in narrations because the characters’ minds have gone numb. They’re forgetting language. With almost zero human interaction most of the time, they are forgetting how to think and interact in words. You lose the skills you don’t really use anymore, y’know. And these guys are so obviously depressed, so they don’t think about the world. They are used to the sad reality they live in. No point in complaining how bad the food is if that’s all you’re gonna eat all your life.

So, a scarcity of narrations tell you a lot about the story and its characters. It reflects something, it symbolizes something. The Road is a masterfully crafted piece of prose, please don’t get inspired to write in this style just because. This style won’t work on most of the stories.

Yeah, just because he wrote like this means you can too. Let me tell you, dear reader, that all of what we call rules are meant to be broken. Nothing is absolute. But here’s the catch—you can’t break the rules just because you don’t know how to apply them.

Authors need to learn these rules, because that’s what constitutes most of the written prose. That’s what forms the basics of the craft. So, learn them, understand them, and know how to use them. And then make a conscious decision not to use them.

See, these rules are like tools or weapons in your arsenal. And you need to keep your arsenal ready for everything. And then, you can decide which weapon to use, when to use it, and how to use it. Because you don’t know what sort of idea hits your head next and you’d suddenly need some of them.

***

#04 - Solution

So, how to make sure your novel actually comes off as a novel and not a film-novel? Unfortunately, the answer to that question… is that I don't know.

I know this sounds so absurd, but it is what it is. As someone who’s so recently started studying prose, I know this problem exists, but I still don’t know how to fix it. You could say I know my novels are film-novels, and I’m trying to fix it. But I, personally, am having a lot of trouble with it.

However, one way I can recommend is to write from your character’s POV, not your POV. You probably imagined your story as a film, but that’s now how you’re supposed to write it. Get into your characters’ head, see what they’re seeing, and write that.

But it’s tough. For me, at least. I always find myself going back to my old ways, and I think I need to re-write almost all of my scene-descriptions and actions because of it.

Lol, how ironic.

***

Conclusion

Yeah, and that’s it. I hope you liked this blog. Sorry I hadn’t posted in along while, I was going through a writers’ block. Stuff is happening these days, y’know.

Anyway, I’ll see you again in a couple of days, with something new. Bye-byee!

[pyrrhocorax]

Re: Sweden, Norway, and Denmark's Japanese dialects in Hetalia (and potential implications to their characterization) (with briefer notes about Fin and Ice)

Thanks to @nordickies for being the spark that lit the fire to write this post. This information also personally has informed some of my personal takes on the Nordic 5 for over a decade now, so I hope it is useful. A lot of this was more common knowledge back in the livejournal days of the fandom.

Disclaimer: my Japanese is limited and by no means do I claim to fully understand all of the cultural complexities surrounding this topic. I will try, where I can, to back up my claims with at least somewhat credible sources especially since I am someone who is not Japanese in origin either ethnically or culturally, however I DO know more than the average person would because I have lived in Japan, was exposed from my practical birth to the culture and language waaay more than is typical due to me living overseas, and I have studied the language on an elementary level in several academic settings. I am by no means an expert (I am a wildlife biologist by trade), but all of this is done in good faith, and if you do know more than me (especially since I am limited in my ability to get access to academic texts right now — nor am I going far out of my way to find those, as this is a meta post about Hetalia of all things and I am not going to do a whole giant thesis about this for one post), feel free to correct me and/or send me further resources, as I want to convey as accurate of information I can as possible. Part of my motivation for making this post was to spur conversation and hopefully have others who know more than me contribute to the ongoing conversation, to which, I encourage those who read this post to check the notes for any further updates. Another note that I also do not originate from a Nordic country, so there may also be additional layers people from those countries may be able to add. Thanks! Let's begin.

*********************************************************** Like several characters in Hetalia, the Viking Trio speak in unique Japanese dialects that further make them distinct and characterize them in Japanese. Sweden speaks in a Touhoku dialect, Norway in the Tsugaru dialect (which is a specific type of Touhoku dialect), and Denmark speaks in Ibaraki dialect. The Ibaraki dialect is sometimes seen as belonging to the Touhoku dialect group or the Kantou dialect group, and the classification is debated. Generally, Touhoku accents are characterized by slow speech, the slurring of words together, and the muttering of words — as well as being associated with rural country folk (Kumagi 2011, direct PDF download). This dialect is often translated into English as a redneck/hick accent and drawling speech — and as those who speak it are often characterized or stereotyped as unintelligent folks from out in the sticks. Kumagi cites Inoue (1977) as saying that Touhoku dialects are "degraded at the bottom in the Japanese language" scoring low on "intelligence and emotion-related associations." One American English rough equivalent (not localized, but in terms of reputation in U.S. culture) by my best estimations would likely be Appalachian dialects, which are also stereotypically characterized as being a hillbilly, unintelligent, and rural accent also featuring drawled speech and often truncated speech (source). Like many Touhoku dialect speakers in Japan, Appalachian dialect speakers often hide, mask, or reduce their accent, especially if they relocate someplace outside Appalachia, in order to seem more credible to others, as it is generally seen as an “inferior” dialect of American English in the wider culture (personal/family lived experience, but also a good radio piece on it here). The other way Touhoku dialects are translated in media are as Upper Midwest or Northern Plains dialects of American English (not the most credible source, but a lot that is on here that I can confirm to be correct). This characterization is likely a more accurate candidate for the Nordics (and may be why Hima chose this dialect group for them), as many immigrants from Nordic countries settled in the Upper Midwest/Northern Plains (source, personal experience living in this region for a lot of my life). Touhoku dialects are also a more northern dialect group, which geographically coincides with the Nordics being, well, northerners!

(Map of Touhoku dialects regionally) I have not been able to find any information re: if Sweden speaks any particular type of Touhoku dialect (or if it is more broad), but I will talk a bit about how his speech was transliterated in early scanlations before moving on to the other two. Because of how slurred/more truncated/less intelligible Touhoku accents generally are (and remember, Den/Nor/Ice did not make their appearance until well after Swe/Fin did!), likely early translators decided to chop off letters/make Sweden's speech seem less intelligible in order to convey that to readers. Unlike Norway and Denmark, Sweden also often speaks in shorter sentences/phrases in Japanese, and given that Finland canonically says "it's just hard to communicate with him" (see Running Away with Mr. Sve) that is also likely why early Hetalia scanlators before official translations of the comics were available (note: god this is making me feel old as hell) made the decision to give him the speech patterns that they did, and that ended up spreading through the fandom. When the other Nordics with their regional dialects dropped, given how Sweden’s vocal trait got translated into English and then fandom ran with it to varying degrees of intelligibility, I think the decision was made to not translate Norway the same way to cause less trouble in fanworks, while the Ibaraki dialect did influence how Denmark was translated (more on that below.

Norway speaks in a very particular Touhoku-family dialect within the series that is generally not well-reflected outside of the source material at all. The Tsugaru dialect is spoken in the northwest part of the country, specifically in the western part of Aomori Prefecture — Tsugaru dialect is a particularly unusual dialect, even by Japanese dialect standards, by being one of the most difficult dialects in Japan to understand (source). Even within Japan itself, people speaking this dialect often have to be subtitled on television for other Japanese audiences to understand, and there have been occasions where the dialect has been displayed on television to marvel at how strange and unintelligible it sounds to other Japanese speakers. Sometimes speakers of this dialect have been characterized (or mischaracterized for comedic effect) as French in Japanese because the odd sound and unintelligability of the dialect (source). Kumagi (2011) also states that "[...] within the Tohoku [alternate transliteration of Touhoku] dialects, Aomori [prefecture in which Tsugaru is spoken] dialect is at the bottom [of the hierarchy]," meaning that even among the already disrespected Touhoku dialects, Tsugaru belongs to the worst of the bunch in terms of reputability and respectability in Japanese perceptions. The Tsugaru dialect is a source of fascination, comedy, and disrepute/low standing all at the same time. While we don’t know why Hima selected Norway to have this dialect, I have a few proposals. First, this gives him a similar flavor to the other members of the Viking Trio while keeping him distinct — while Ibaraki is a more southern dialect geographically (for the region), Tsugaru is spoken both more north and more west than it. So if you map their dialects out on a map, their geographical location to each other also somewhat resembles their actual locations as nations to each other in the Nordics! Which is neat!

Second, Hima characterizes Norway has being slightly otherworldly and unusual largely due to his fairy-friends and such. But I also think that he likely chose Tsugaru for him not only because that makes him seem like he’s out of this world, but also because Japan is kind of fascinated by that dialect in particular despite not holding it in high regards by it too — sure, it is a hick accent, but it is an interesting hick accent. I think the fact that Japanese speakers sometimes liken the dialect to French is interesting specifically because of how Japanese people often view the French — French culture something that is often romanticized and idealized, and given how Tsugaru dialect can sound French-ish to Japanese speakers, that may be why Norway is kind of designed as the “pretty boy” of the trio by the fandom? In the same way that “Paris Syndrome” is a thing, where Japanese who go to France are often shocked at how their idealized version of France does not live up to the realities of the country (trust me it's real there is a wikipedia page lol), I think you can argue that in-universe Norway can be seen in a lot of different ways depending on the preconceived notions of how you view the dialect. If you view it as French-like and think it sounds interesting, you may find it alluring/beautiful. If you think it is crass, you'll look at it with disdain and disgust. If you think it just sounds silly and stupid, it is. If you think it is nostalgic (as Kumagi states that this is the only positive association this dialect has) and has a close association with nature/pastoral life because of that, it is. I think Norway in canon is characterized on all four of those axioms at the same time (if you really wanna pull canon receipts I will at another time) which makes this make a lot of sense to me as to why that dialect was chosen for him. Third, I think that given Norway was largely the worst off of the three kingdoms for most of history, it makes sense to give him the worst accent in terms of reputation/status out of all of them, too. Note: specifically, re: how Norway uses "brother" in Japanese is also interesting when referring to Denmark. What he is saying is "anko" (あんこ), which literally means "young man/eldest son" directly translated and is specifically only used to mean that in northern Japanese dialects. A good way to put it is it is like people in the U.S. use "bro" as a catch-all term for a similar-aged guy you are trying to get the attention of kind of informally, in the same way you can say "nii-san" to both mean "older brother" and also "guy who seems older than me I am addressing informally" I guess?? Funnily enough, which I didn't know until researching shit, it apparently also means bottom (homosexual) in prison slang??? Which may or may not be intentional I guess on Hima's part, and could also influence your characterization of Norway as a result. Finally we move on to Denmark. The Ibaraki dialect is characterized by number of things, but for our purposes I think that the two most important traits are the general lack of polite speech and the slightly faster rate of speech (unfortunately, my only written sources I can point to are wikipedia and TV tropes again, but I have heard this orally from someone a long time ago - I looked for more credible sources but couldn't find any easily). Because of it being debated as to whether or not is a true Touhoku dialect or if it is actually a Kantou (more southern/eastern) dialect, I think you can also argue that makes sense given Denmark is kind of the "gateway" into the heart of Europe geographically. People have generally translated this as him being excitable and more casual in the way he communicates to other people. I have been able to find less resources on this particular dialect and how it is perceived culturally, so I will sadly have to leave it at that, but from my understanding he is generally translated appropriately in the manga from what I have seen, with the -in' instead of -ing and ya instead of you to have it seem more relaxed/familiar/casual.

Final notes on Finland and Iceland: I cannot confirm this personally, but from what I can hear from Finland, it sounds like he speaks pretty standard Japanese to me, but take that with a grain of salt since I am not the expert here. Which, dialect-wise, places him as the odd person out (which fits with Finnish being the linguistic outgroup of the five) and also puts him as the relatable “stand in” for Japanese people learning about the Nordics — reminder he is the one who introduces them all in that one comic (see The Nordic 5+a) and even earlier comics (see Running Away with Mr. Sve), and we’re viewing the Nordics from largely his perspective). Since Finland in this series is largely characterized (and often deemed a poor stereotype by Finns) because of the Japanese perspective on Finland/Finns, it makes a lot of sense Hima used him kind of as a self-insert for Japanese readers/viewers to understand the Nordics from, as of the Nordic nations, Japanese folks are likely going to have the strongest familiarity/connection to Finland because of the Moomins. Please take the following information about Iceland with heaping grains of salt, but from a memory, I believe he also speaks the Tsugaru dialect, at least some of the time???? This makes sense he shares the Tsugaru dialect with Norway, as he’s Norway’s in-canon sibling, but I have a vague memory of a meta post I cannot 100% confirm or deny exists re: him only speaking the dialect/the dialect coming out more when he’s alone?? This following is speculation since I cannot confirm/deny that right now with my current abilities, but if it is true, would also be an interesting level to his character and make sense — it puts further distance between him and Norway if he purpsefully doesn’t speak the same way as his brother when his brother is present, and it also is reminiscent of my own experience living with people with discriminated accents who then mask their “less desirable” dialects in their teens/20s so they don’t get discriminated against as they move up in the world. Kumagi (2011) states that "Therefore, young female native speakers of Tohoku [alternate transliteration] dialects feel ashamed of their dialects and hesitate to speak them in big cities such as Tokyo. They are made to feel inferiority complex about their dialects, which are stigmatized as unfeminine". Since Iceland is very much characterized as a teen in canon, I think that this makes sense to do in the broader context of Hima’s choices. The specific reason as to why I state that I believe he speaks Tsugaru some of the time but not always is because there are some panels he speaks without it and some where he does seem to have an accent (HWS Chapter 112, relevant screencap below, this is the only time he speaks like this from what I can find in scanlations/translations, but it has to be a deliberate choice). Would love more info on this from someone who knows more about Japanese than I can do.

Again, please check the original post and/or notes for any future additions that I will add/edit accordingly (with notes as to where/when that happened) if any other relevant information surfaces, but I hope that was at least a little informative and interesting to read. I consulted a bunch of other resources too (read a bunch of papers I could find online), but a lot of those I read several months ago and no longer can find :x otherwise I would list them here.

Let me know if there are any typos/things are unclear, b/c holy shit this took a lot more effort and time for me to write up than I thought it was going to, and I am too tired to proofread it after spending several days on it. X_X

[taffybear]

random list of my bay Leo headcanons ❤

working on Raph next! let's see how many ideas i get lol

also opening my inbox for writing (and perhaps even drawing) requests! feel free to drop me an ask <3

literally loves mitski and mac demarco. he likes very indie hopeless romantic type music, it's literally hilarious to catch him just vibing in his feels

SECRETLY HAS PINTEREST BAHAHAHAHA but just for finding poetry and looking at bonsai trees. Mikey found out (like he doesn't have pinterest too??) and they all ended up making fun of him for it to the point where Leo debated deleting the app but ended up forgetting about it.

very specific but he has this unique type of love language where he'll ask you something and without any further questions he will go get or accomplish whatever he hinted at. for example, y'all will just be hanging out, and he'll go, "are you hungry?" and if you just as much nod your head hesitantly he will run to the kitchen and make you a 3 course meal. or, he'll just ask you if you're cold, and if you say yes he brings you a heater and a blanket. he doesn't ask things like, "can i get you a water?" he'll just ask if you're thirsty and go from there.

has the most gorgeous handwriting on the planet. this beautiful cursive print that is lowkey unreadable but so aesthetically pleasing. at first you were shocked but as you got to know him it made lots of sense, literally probably his biggest hobby is just remembering some random thing and then spending weeks straight perfecting it until it's natural for him. he loves to challenge himself to be perfect at literally anything, and his hand writing is one of those instances.

HE'S LITERALLY A VIRGO GUYS HE IS THE DEFINITION OF A VIRGO OH MY GOD

speaks fluent japanese OF COURSE but his brothers don't know it as well as he does (they all know a little at least) and he'll curse them out quietly in japanese behind their backs.

Leo wouldn't say he had a favorite brother of course but he definitely prefers Don's presense over the others. they always go to each other first when they have a problem or just want to rant, and they have a bunch of inside jokes.

after Donnie, Leo's the biggest insomniac. he gets nightmares a lot unfortunately, and most times when he wakes up he physically can't go back to sleep. literally Mikey will get up for a glass of water at 5:37 in the morning and Leo is up doing flips.

very random, but Leo is AWFUL at math. he meant to learn at some point but the time passed and he missed the boat. ofc math is Don's second language and Mikey and Raph couldn't care less (but somehow Mikey always guesses the right answers without doing the correct work??) but Leo is lowkey embarrassed that he struggles with it so much. he can do basic math and most things that come up in daily life like practical equations, but anything past times tables and division he is cannot understand. if you come over and need help on your math homework he will try his HARDEST to help you but ultimately he's completely clueless.

always takes bugs outside. if the creepy crawly is creepy enough or makes you screech, he'll whip it with his katana but normally he'll take the time to scoop it up in his hands (literally no fear) and walk it outside calmly.

literally LOVES doing chores. it's like a form of self care for him. folding laundry, sweeping, mopping, washing the dishes, organizing the dojo, he'll literally put on some music and go to town. when he visits you he will literally just start straightening things up and picking things off of the floor. he hates having nothing to do so he'll just ask for something he can clean while y'all chit chat.

incredibly flexible. he can bend every which way, sit comfortably in a split for hours, can bend over IN HALF and grab the back of his legs--he's literally maxed out on flexibility. but splits training is his private time so unless you sneak you won't catch a glance. but when you do, in between of sliding dojo doors, it is... something. like excuse me sir how tf doesn't that hurt your bAWLLS

smells like lavender. dead serious his signature scent is lavender. it's not like he wears cologne or anything, he just lights a lot of lavender incense and candles to the point where if someone even steps foot in his room they walk out aroma-fied.

everyone in the fandom has their personal opinion of who's the best cook and who's the worst cook of the four, and it is finally time for my hot take of the century. i think Leo is by far the best chef, and Raph is the one who can't even make toast right. a lot of people say Mikey is the chef of the family, which i agree with, he enjoys cooking and baking very much, but this doesn't mean the food he makes is good 💀💀💀 he trusts himself over any recipe and so he just throws in whatever he feels like. Leo can't stand being in the kitchen while Mikey is cooking, his ocd can't stand it. this said, you'd think this would mean the guys prefer Leo's cooking over Mikey's but fact is Leo is such a perfectionist he will spend hours working on a meal it's past 11 by the time he's done. and he doesn't take requests, he only makes what he wants and then on top of that the healthnut version. he makes sushi a lot and goes crazy when you bring him salmon.

IS SUCH A DORK BAHAHAHA if you even so much MENTION a book or a show he likes he will blabber for HOURS about it. he knows every single fact there is to know about star trek it is insane. you amuse him not because you're interested of course but he is just so damn adorable when he's talking about something he enjoys (which he rarely gets the chance to without being made fun of LMAO)

[oldmisfortune]

I'm going to throw my hat in the ring in the MC is being mean/not to Sylus and why I think this is even a debate to begin. This is my opinion btw and everyone is entitled to their own and there isn't one that's superior to the others. Also feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about certain things, I'm still pretty new to the game.

I think the reason people find MC mean is because we are lacking a clear narrative. I feel like to some extent we are seeing things almost out of order or without being sure of their progression off screen. There's a lot of things that can happen between the memories, while they are also just memories and it's not clear (at least to me) how or even if they fit in the canon and where they fit into the timeline. Because of that, we're not getting a proper narrative that shows MC's progress with Sylus, we can't even be sure they sat down and had a talk about what happened or not. Moreover, we aren't in MC's head enough to know because she's supposed to be a self-insert. enemies to lovers works so well because you can visibly see the moments they start changing and seeing the other as a potential love interest. The progression is there, we are shown proof of it. In this game, the moment Sylus kidnapped her could have been yesterday or years ago, it's not clear, so it's very hard to see how the MC could go from mean, defensive, and wanting to hurt him back to actually liking him and wanting to try something with him. If we know that Sylus hasn't absolved himself yet,MC being mean is normal. If he did indeed and she acknowledged it and remains mean, then it makes less sense.

((Not to mention that I do feel like MC is inconsistent between the boys, she is someone different depending on the boy she's talking to imo, but i haven't analysed the game too hard either so i can very wrong on that))

My final point is that, well, you can be mean to people you love and they can be into it. That's how being a brat works. If you explain and show in other ways you do care about the person, and they in turn are into it, you can be far meaner than MC. The problem is, they don't talk about it, or at least we don't see it. And i don't think they have, at least not prior to the cat cards where Sylus is legit like: "will you sell me off for 2 dry cheetos 🥺???? Breathe if yes." (This is exaggerated for comedic purposes) i would personally tease him that i will sell him for less than that (bc i am a lil bit of an asshole at time hehe) but I would notice he seems pretty serious fast enough to know he needs confirmation and validation in that moment. And MC doesn't do it overtly, and that means that either a) girlie is blind or thought he was playing, which he was before but seemingly not anymore; b) girlie was legit about to sell him; or c) they never had a proper talk before they started this (which i am inclined to believe). A lack of proper conversation between the two is why we're so confused by MC's behaviour, if we have ONE (1) scene where Sylus agrees he likes degradation or the teasing or he's a brat tamer or whatever and MC agrees she is also into that, we wouldn't be here.

Feel free to correct me if I'm off or if i understood the game poorly!

[oh-stars]

Unspoken Habits

Love Is Silently Passing Them A Pickle Because You Know It’s Their Favorite.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 733 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G

--

It’s been forever since they all got together. Steve’s got an arm slung over Robin’s shoulders and is leaning toward Max to talk shit about Mike, while Eddie’s squished between Dustin and Nancy on the opposite side. The rest of the party surround the table, laughing and talking so loudly he’s not even sure if you could call it that anymore. 

As nice as it is, Eddie feels a little bad for how rowdy they are in the middle of a restaurant. Thankfully, it doesn’t last too terribly long once the food comes out. 

“Okay,” their waiter says as he brings out two others with big trays of food, “help me out here.” 

It’s an ordeal to get everyone’s orders where they need to go, but once it’s settled, they all start to tuck in. 

Eddie’s squirting ketchup all over his fries when he looks up to see Steve’s plate has a pickle on it. His chicken fingers didn’t come with a pickle. Dammit. 

Steve’s not even looking, still listening to Lucas’ story about the game he had the other day. He just picks up his plate and holds it out for Eddie. 

Fuck yeah! Eddie plucks the pickle off Steve’s plate and takes a big bite, then sets the rest down on the edge of his basket. 

“Can we please talk about the new player’s handbook that came out?” Dustin says, muffled around his straw. 

“I haven’t picked it up yet,” Eddie admits. 

Dustin groans, then launches into a full comparison of the last version and this new edition. Which brings Mike and Will into the conversation, too, and soon they’re all debating about the merits of all of the editions, which one is superior and the best in both the standard and advanced games. 

He’s so lost in the topic that he nearly misses Robin handing Steve her pickle. 

Eddie’s got a mouthful, chewing faster so he can correct her mistake because Steve doesn’t like pickles. He doesn’t like a lot of things, he’s almost always handing Eddie something at every meal, whether it's olives or pickles or green skittles. 

But then Steve stops him in his tracks and takes the biggest bite out of the pickle. 

What the fuck is this?

Eddie turns away from the nerd talk to lean forward, mouth finally free to talk. “What was that?” 

Steve raises an eyebrow and puts the pickle down on his plate, hanging off the edge so it doesn’t touch his remaining fries. “What was what?” 

“That!” Eddie points to the pickle.

Robin looks like he’s lost his mind and she may have a point, but the input isn’t necessary. “Is he not allowed to eat? Jesus, Munson.” 

“Not pickles, he’s not,” Eddie says. “You hate pickles.” 

Steve’s cheeks go pink as he shakes his head, fringe bouncing on his forehead. He’s bashful when he meets Eddie’s eye. “No, I don’t,” he says softly. 

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks. It’s like the world has turned upside down (no pun intended) and he’s left marooned on an island of imposters. The fuck is this?

He shrugs and leans forward a little, mirroring Eddie’s posture as they rest their crossed arms on the table and try to get a little closer despite the distance. “I like pickles, Eds. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

“Oh fuck you,” Eddie says half-heartedly. “Since when?” 

“Always?” Robin interjects. “You guys have been together for almost a decade! How do you not know that he loves pickles?” 

Steve’s face gets even redder. 

Eddie feels like he’s been shot, the ultimate betrayal playing out before him. He clutches at his chest. “Stevie?” he squeaks out. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, reaching a hand across the table. 

“Then why do you…” 

Steve just smiles. “You love them.” 

“That’s it?” 

“That’s all that matters,” Steve says softly. 

“Can you two stop being all sappy for like two seconds? Some of us are trying to eat,” Max says, nearly snarling with disgust (even though her eyes are all gooey so it doesn’t land the way she’s hoping for). 

Steve laughs and takes his hand back. He winks at Eddie from across the table before turning back to Robin to talk in their weird twin language. 

Dammit, he really loves this man. With his stupid winks and silly sacrifices. If that’s not true love, Eddie doesn’t know what is.

--

Thanks to @lady-lostmind for betaing!

Ao3 Link

[r0semaryt3a]

Some pre/during Yorknew Phantom Troupe Identity hcs + Illumi and Kurapika

I do not care if you disagree with these- my word is not law and honestly I want to hear some other headcannons so feel free to drop them down

Chrollo Lucilfer -

Ah Chrollo, my wife <3

He/him (surprising the masses after my wife joke)

Bisexual (no pref)

Monogamy - don’t even suggest otherwise it will be shot down.

“My identity? I’m a bisexual man…hmm? He/him.”

Feitan Portor

He/it

Has not and will not ever think about it (if he likes you he’ll date you he won’t label it)

It would be like pulling teeth trying to get him to answer on his identity. Like, it’s just not important to him. Why do you want to know so bad? Just call it whatever, it’s not gonna humour you with a conversation anyways.

“He.” ‘is there anything else?’ “It.” ‘And your sexuality?’ “…like you, date you. Simple.”

Phinks Magcub

He/him

Straight

Messed around once - quickly learnt he was indeed straight

These people really don’t see the prevalence in their identities so they’re all pretty blunt on answering.

“Eh? Why’d you wanna know? So what? I’m a guy. What? I like girls sure.”

Machi Komacine -

my absolute favourite

She/her

Messed around w gender for a bit; doesn’t care but will let you know “she’s a girl”

Bisexual - fem pref

Was the opposite of Phinks - thought she was lesbian then messed around and realised she was indeed bi

“Call me whatever…I’m a girl though.”

“I mean I like everyone, I think? Girls are probably better. No they are”

Woman has to double check with herself whenever asked, it’s like answering a quiz

Franklin Bordeau

He/him

Homosexual

Like one of the only ones who’d give you a straight answer if you ever asked

“I’m a man and yes, I like men.” Type of answer

Uvogin

He/him

Bi - male pref (the phantom troupe is just a bisexual chat room atp)

I Cannot decide whether I like Nobunaga or Shalnark w this guy

You’ll find out from fucking around with him. In no world is he answering you.

Pakunoda

She/her

THIS WOMAN IS LESBIAN NO DEBATE

L e s b i a n

Can imagine her being the only one of the group to just have her identity down from day dot

Definitely had a fling with Machi at some point that didn’t work out (they ended on good terms obviously. I can and will go into lengthy detail as to why I believe they had something going in the past and weren’t still together during Yorknew)

This woman is the died in the arc she first appeared in rep I needed!

“She/her honey. I like girls, that’s all that’s to it.”

Shalnark

Does not care

Pan

Literally just a colouring book, do what you want he won’t correct you (there’s nothing to correct to)

“Oh? Hmm, well I’ve never really thought about it much. It makes sense for me to be pan though, I guess!”

Nobunaga Hazama

He/they

Homosexual

He’s like that grandad that tells you about his time out in clubs and you’re sat going: “YOU? YOU did those things?”

“I’m a homosexual.”

Hisoka Morow

Call this amalgamation of a human whatever you want. As long as you can fight, you can talk to him/j

Type of guy to make a “Yours” joke

I really don’t see Hisoka caring for what people see him as. Like you wanna call him a he? Go for it. She? Sure why not! They? It? All on the table!

Another bisexual - his preference is fight me

Would 100% be down for poly, but depending on his attachment would also demand monogamy

“Why don’t we set a date and you can find out hmm~?”

Shizuku Murasaki

She/it

Straight or Aro, one or the other she’s either heavily into romance or completely repulsed and I can’t decide which I think it is.

Will blink at you for two minutes before sighing a response

“Well I don’t mind she or it I suppose.”

Kortopi

It/its

Aroace

I don’t really have that many thoughts on Kortopi so this is like all I’m giving

bonolenov

He/him

No one really has a clue on his sexuality and he doesn’t tell any of them, ever. Like he knows what he is, but he just never says it

Illumi Zoldyck

He/Him?

He’s never really thought about it much, after-all aside from family it’s not like most people will live long enough for his identity to matter

Sexuality? Who knows! He sure doesn’t. Does he even like people? Who’s to say!

“What does it matter? I’m a man by all accounts, so refer to me as such.”

Kurapika Kurta

He/they

Bisexual

I don’t even really know why he’s on this list tbf.

Will give you his whole coming out story if you ask about his identity. You’ll be there a while.

This was actually really fun to sit and do-

[dodger-chan]

Did I procrastinate by writing steddie fic again? Maybe. In my defense, I think this is very funny. Also on AO3.

Warning for non graphic but frequent discussion of sex.

Like a good number of things, it was Wheeler’s fault.

Under normal circumstances, Eddie would have no problem sitting back in his throne and staying above the fray while his little sheep had their silly arguments. Talking is a free action, etc. etc. And they’d wrapped for the night, were only delaying clean-up. But Wheeler, pressed by his friends to join in the defense of their favorite paladin, had gone with a very explicable but awkward choice of phrasing.

“I mean, Steve doesn’t suck.”

Eddie bit down on his tongue. He wasn’t going to say anything. He was not.

Unfortunately, something about the tepidness, the lackluster nature of Wheeler’s tone only encouraged Gareth.

“Au contraire,” he said, standing and making a gesture that Eddie chose to interpret as homage rather than mockery. “Harrington most assuredly does suck.”

Eddie bit down harder. He couldn’t say anything.

Gareth then began to list a number of harms done to the members of Hellfire that were, for the most part, merely tangentially related to the actions or existence of one Steven Harrington.

Perhaps it had always been a little unfair, to blame the social strictures of highschool on one individual who had no part in designing them and had done little more than anyone else in the way of enforcement. But what was the point of a figurehead if not to take the blame?

Of course no part of Gareth’s speech addressed the one way in which Steve truly did suck dick: literally. Steve had taken to oral sodomy like a duck to water. Eddie would love to claim credit by citing his excellent tutelage - largely by example - but he suspected his boyfriend was a natural.

Eddie tasted blood in his mouth. He couldn't keep biting his tongue. But he also couldn't set the record straight, so to speak. Even if he could tell all of Hellfire that he and Steve were dating, it would be beyond inappropriate to discuss Steve's cocksucking acumen with the freshmen.

“It's an interesting linguistic phenomenon, wouldn't you say?” Eddie interrupted Gareth’s spiel. “You are debating the merits and acceptability of one Steve Harrington, but using as shorthand a term that refers to oral sex. A phrasing that suggests people who give head are lesser than those who do not.

“Without making too many assumptions, I feel safe in saying that most of us would like to enjoy a bit of oral sodomy in the future. Now, I may not be the smartest guy in town, but it seems to me that preemptively insulting the people who might suck your dick is a good way to ensure they never will.”

He gave them a moment to digest his speech.

“So I should have said Steve doesn’t blow?” Mike asked, tentatively.

“Blow comes from blow jobs, so that’s the same thing,” Dustin corrected. A little less confidently, he went on. “Bites, maybe? Biting’s not a sex thing, is it?”

Eddie sighed. Surely there were insults that didn’t reflect some aspect of his sex life. Though biting was, at minimum, not related to oral. And it would probably be easier not to brag about the number of little bruises he’d left on Steve’s neck. And shoulders. And chest. All over Steve’s body, really.

Who was he kidding? He needed to shut this whole conversation down yesterday.

(this now has a sequel)

[piratekane]

Beatrice sighs as her pen runs out of ink. This is the second pen today and she’s starting to feel like there is something working against her. But, that seems illogical. The more logical conclusion is that Ava has used her pens. She has a tendency to use them until they’re nearly dry and put them back in Beatrice’s backpack, thinking she’s doing a good job returning them to where she found them.

Not maliciously. There’s nothing Ava does that is malicious. Beatrice knows she’s probably thinking: I borrowed this. I need to put it back. And then she does and Beatrice opens her backpack at the student center the next day, intent on getting some work done while she waits for Ava, and finds her pens dry.

She looks through her pencil case but there isn’t another pen, just a precisely sharpened standard pencil, two black mechanical pencils, a yellow highlighter, a soft white eraser, and her red pen - used to make corrections only. She debates using it.

No. It would ruin her notes.

Instead, she pulls out her laptop. She’ll just continue her notes there and transfer them to her notebook later. The extra repetition will be good for her. Her professor asked her a question she wasn’t quite prepared for and she knows she’s going to be thinking about it all week until she has a chance to redeem herself in the next class.

Her screen comes to life and she sighs. This one isn’t born from frustration like her last one; this one is an acceptance, an admitting to herself that, despite what she’s looking at, she can’t help but feel a rush of affection for it.

Ava has changed her desktop background again. This time, it’s a picture Camila took last weekend. Ava is in a white shirt and white shorts, a white sweatband around her forehead. All of it is stained in neon paint. She’s holding a fake plastic trophy high above her head with one hand, the other looped around Beatrice’s neck, the two of them squished into the frame. Her own clothes are soaked with the same bright colors.

How she agreed to something called a Color Run... The idea of running through cannons of color had not sounded appealing, but Ava had come home with a flyer she found on the bulletin board outside the cafeteria and presented it to Beatrice alongside a bulleted list of reasons why Beatrice should say yes.

She let Ava go through the list: one, you love to exercise. Two, it’s advertised to make the world ‘healthier’ and you’re always telling me I need to start making better choices. Three, imagine if we got Lilith to agree to come and someone blasted her with a color cannon?

The third one hadn’t been convincing. Lilith would never agree to something like that.

Beatrice didn’t tell her that the list didn’t matter; she was going to say yes the moment Ava handed her the flyer and looked at her with those eyes, the ones that always made Beatrice feel like she could free fall and not care what waits for her at the other end of it.

And she had to admit, it was rather fun. The white clothes they bought were completely ruined, but it had been worth it to see the way Ava beamed the whole run, sprinting ahead to circle back around her. She had thrown her arms wide when the color cannons went off, soaking in the powder. Beatrice soaked in her happiness in return.

It hasn’t been long. Spring is fading into summer quickly and Ava has been living with her for two months and every single moment has been filled with the kind of happiness that Beatrice could have only dreamed about when she was younger. The kind of happiness that made each day feel like it was worth waking up for.

She hadn’t gone looking for this, hadn’t expected something like this to just fall into her lap - or literally crash into her table. It’s illogical to think fate sent Ava into her orbit, but if she was pressed, she could admit that each of them must have been in the right place at the right time. Serendipity, Ava said with a rakish smile. We were destined to meet.

If there was such a thing as serendipity, it must be working in her favor.

She opens a word document, the cursor blinking at the top of the page. She titles it Anthropological Theories of Religion and flips through her textbook until she finds the correct page. She likes this class, likes how as she continues through her degree program the class gets smaller, more intimate. She typically likes the professor, though she feels thrown off by her now.

Halfway through a word, her world goes dark. Warm hands slide over her eyes, fingertips pressing against her skin. 

She smiles nearly instantly. “Ava.”

“Not Ava,” says a low voice. But it’s clunky, a poor imitation at something deeper.

Beatrice plays along for just a moment, indulging Ava and a part of herself that likes to make Ava happy. “Oh? Well then. I suppose a stranger has found it appropriate to put their hands on me.” She curls her fingers around a thin wrist, one her hand already knows the shape of, and tightens slightly. “I do know how to disarm you.”

“You could try.”

Beatrice tightens her grip in response and hears a slight exhale that glances against the shell of her ear. A fingertip skates across her brow briefly and then Ava is letting go, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before she sits down heavily in the chair next to Beatrice.

“How did you know it was me? What if I was… Mary?”

Beatrice spares Ava a glance. “Mary knows better. You, on the other hand…”

“I’ve never known better.” Ava says it with pride. “Especially not when it comes to you.”

Beatrice feels her chest tighten. She wonders if Ava knows, if Ava understands how something so simple unspools the tight loop Beatrice keeps around her heart. A part of her thinks Ava must. Ava is able to read her so thoroughly. From the moment they met, Ava has seen through her so effortlessly. It’s thrilling, to be seen like that. 

And it’s devastatingly terrifying.

“Yes, well,” she says quietly.

“One day, you’ll use that to your advantage.” Ava spins Beatrice’s textbook towards her, reading a few of the section titles before she turns it back towards Beatrice. “But you’re also too nice for that, so who knows.”

Beatrice straightens out her textbook out of habit more than anything else. “You’re late.”

Ava smiles sheepishly. “I got caught up.” She doesn’t give an answer past that.

Beatrice nearly frowns. Ava doesn’t owe her any more of an explanation. She just usually gives one.

“But I’m here now!” Ava takes off her backpack, resting it on the floor before she opens it and takes out her own laptop. “I thought you didn’t like typing your notes? Muscle memory or something, right?” 

“My pens are out of ink.” 

Ava’s cheeks flush. “That’s my fault, isn’t it.”

“It’s certainly not mine.” She says it without any malice. “I just need to start carrying more pens.”

Ava still looks guilty. She fishes into the pocket of her jean shorts and unearths a stick of gum, three paper clips, and an uncapped pen. She spreads them out on the table and nudges the pen towards Beatrice. It’s not the tip she likes, thicker than she usually uses, and it’s blue. If red would ruin her notes, this would change the physical shape of them.

She takes the offered pen and closes her laptop. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Ava smiles and scoops the paper clips up, putting them back in her pocket. 

Beatrice will find them later when she does the laundry and she’ll add them to the jar of pocket-trinkets she keeps of all the things Ava leaves behind in her clothes. It’s made up of coins and paper clips and pen caps - all things that Ava swears she’s going to put in proper places but never remembers until Beatrice is pulling them out of the washing machine.

Ava takes the gum and breaks it in half, offering it to Beatrice. She has coffee and this gum is spearmint. The combination will taste horrible. But she puts the gum in her mouth and smiles when Ava does.

“So, listen to what MacKay did today.” Ava tells the story animatedly, face shifting as she plays each character. Beatrice doesn’t catch every word, too focused on the rise and fall of her voice and the way her hands move as she goes on. Beatrice finds herself smiling along, not at all caring about some girl named Carina or Professor MacKay and whatever argument they’ve gotten into this week.

Ava is halfway through her story, body gearing up to drop the punch line, when her face shifts and her eyes cut over Beatrice’s shoulder. Beatrice frowns, turning to look. A boy is approaching their table, hands locked around the straps of his backpack as he strides towards them.

“Hey, Ava!” he calls.

Beatrice looks back at Ava. She knows this boy, at the very least. But her face is unreadable - a feat Ava doesn’t manage to accomplish very often. He comes closer and Beatrice’s frown deepens.

“Ah,” Ava says quietly.

Ah?

The boy slows as he reaches their table, a smile on his face that someone might find charming. She studies Ava’s face. Does she find it charming?

“Hey, Ava,” he repeats. His voice is smooth, slightly accented. A traitorous part of her thinks of the time that Ava said she liked accents. “I was hoping to catch you after class.”

Ava smiles. “Sorry, JC. I was in a hurry. Had a lunch date.” She hooks a thumb in Beatrice’s direction. “JC, meet Beatrice, my best friend. Beatrice, this is JC. He’s my biology lab partner.”

JC. She’s never heard of him before. Ava talks about everyone and everything. Some nights, she talks until she falls asleep on the couch, her Hobbes stuffed animal clutched in her arms. It’s almost as if she collects stories all day just to tell them to Beatrice later. She knows about every one of Ava’s classmates, is - secretly - invested in her Literary Theory classmates, Robert and Nayara, and their on-again, off-again relationship. She knows about the librarian Ava likes, who doesn’t mind her iced coffee, as long as she uses a paper towel and keeps it away from the books.

But she’s never heard of a JC, or anyone who might use the initials JC.

And it’s not that Ava isn’t allowed to have friends. She is. She has plenty of them. She always says hello to at least fifteen people when they go out, either here to their favorite table in the student center or in the library or walking to the cafeteria if they’re getting lunch between classes. Ava loves people, loves knowing things about them. Beatrice loves that about her.

She just thought she knew all of them. Or has heard of them before. She certainly thinks she would have remembered hearing about Ava’s lab partner. It's odd, now, that she hasn't.

JC smiles at her, his eyes taking a moment longer to shift away from Ava. “It’s nice to meet you. Ava has talked a lot about you.”

Beatrice hides her smile at that. “Nice to meet you,” she says politely.

He completely turns from her, his job of mirroring her politeness gone, his job done. Beatrice finds herself studying him. He’s attractive in a conventional sense. A strong jaw, a good smile. Camila would have many things to say about him and Beatrice works to keep her voice out of her mind. She focuses on Lilith instead. 

Boys, she would probably sneer. Beatrice agrees.

JC runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back a little. Beatrice watches Ava’s eyes follow the motion and fights a visible frown. JC notices, though, and seems to preen a little in a way only university-age boys can when they find themselves to be attractive. She takes a centering breath. She doesn’t know JC. She’s sure he’s a nice person. She’s also sure he’d be a nicer one if he wasn’t standing at their table right now.

“I just wanted to know if you gave any thought to my question.”

“Ah,” Ava says again.

Ah?

JC doesn’t seem bothered. “I know your rule on dating your lab partner. It’s a very specific rule but I think you should give me a chance.”

Dating echoes in Beatrice’s head like a slow siren, like the slow spin of a lantern in a lighthouse. It illuminates JC, floating in the ocean in her mind, with his charming smile and his hopeful eyes. Ava appears next, face unreadable. They rotate around and around until they’re in the same frame.

She blinks and Ava is staring at her, a slight wrinkle in her forehead.

Beatrice keeps her face neutral, unsure of what else to do with it. She certainly can’t shout no. She absolutely will not encourage it. She’s stuck in a sort of limbo where she isn’t sure what comes next and so she waits, poised and ready to do whatever is needed of her.

Ava’s frown deepens.

JC takes the silence and runs with it. “If it’s because you’re worried about things being awkward if it doesn’t go well - and that’s a big if - then you don’t need to worry.” His smile widens and he leans one hand down on the table, his whole body angled towards Ava now. “What do you say?”

Say no, she thinks. Tell him to go away.

Ava has been living with her for two months and Beatrice has been in love with her for at least half of that.

It took some getting used to, this feeling. It took many nights laying in bed staring at the ceiling and pretending like the feelings she had for Ava were just a friendship. An intense one, born of their proximity and Ava’s natural affinity for people in general. 

But love is friendship caught on fire, she’s read before. And her friendship with Ava is a living, burning thing. She knows their love would be incendiary, scorching everything she thought love looked like before.

If - and it’s a big if - Ava ever wanted to love her back.

Why would she? Why would she give up a world of possibility for Beatrice? She’s certainly nothing special. She’s disciplined, polite, considerate to the needs of others - all the things her parents wanted her to be. Ava wants someone free, a little brash, selfish in the right ways. Beatrice is none of those things, can’t even begin to think of how she could be. But Ava deserves to get what she wants after all those years of being denied even the simplest of things.

Beatrice just doesn’t have the qualities Ava could want. Friendship is one thing. Being in love with someone is another. Beatrice is hyper aware of the difference.

It doesn’t stop her from dreaming about it, though. It doesn’t stop her from wishing for it.

“What’s the worst that could happen? We spend the rest of the semester ignoring each other?” he asks, smile charming.

Yes, she thinks. What’s the worst that could happen between them? They could spend the rest of the lease ignoring each other. Ava would never look at her the same.

She’d have to go back to living her life the way it was before Ava - not the worst, but not as great as this.

“I don’t know,” Ava finally hedges.

Yes, Beatrice exhales in her mind.

JC leans forward a little more. “It doesn’t need to be anything big. We could go for one of those iced coffees you like. At the cafe near Venable?”

“She likes the one near the English department.”

Beatrice frowns. Surely that wasn’t her voice. But Ava and JC are both looking at her. So it must have been her. There’s a slight smile on Ava’s face, a slight frown on JC’s. Beatrice clears her throat.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

JC recovers. “The one near Eldridge Hall, sure. I know someone who works there. She can sneak us a pastry.”

Ava hasn’t looked away from Beatrice. “I don’t know,” she repeats.

Beatrice swallows. It’s fine. Ava is - well, not quite a grown up, but certainly not a child. Despite her propensity for Saturday morning cartoons on Beatrice’s Hulu account - which is ruining the algorithm of her suggested shows - and sleeping on the couch upside down like a toddler and eating, God help her, shredded cheese out of the bag after finishing half a gallon of milk without even pouring herself a glass, she is not a child. 

She can make her own decisions. And if that decision is- If it’s- Well. Beatrice swallows past a knot forming in her throat. Well. She can do what she pleases. Including this probably-very-nice-boy in front of them. She’s allowed to do that.

So she smiles tightly, her lips pressing together thinly, and tells herself to get it together. She keeps her focus on Ava and loosens her mouth and it feels a little more natural. She inhales through her nose. She can tell Ava that she’s free to do whatever she wants with whoever she wants.

“You do like a free pastry,” is what she ends up saying.

Ava’s forehead pinches, the corners of her mouth crinkling. “I do,” she says slowly, confused.

“An iced coffee and a pastry.” Beatrice says it just as slowly. “Both things that you enjoy.”

“I do,” Ava repeats.

Beatrice nods encouragingly. Her head feels like it’s on a spring, up and down and up and down. She’s worried it’s going to roll off. 

JC looks between the two of them, confusion on his face. Beatrice sees him out of the corner of her eye and her smile tightens again.

Ava is still staring at her, still frowning slightly. Beatrice forces herself into her most diplomatic smile. 

Don’t you get it? she wants to ask. Don’t you understand what I’m trying to say?

But Ava misses it. Because she breaks Beatrice’s gaze and focuses on JC instead. Beatrice thinks her smile is slightly dimmer. Or she’s just hoping it is. But it still doesn’t ease the pain of knowing there is a smile and it’s aimed at JC. 

She opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “Listen, you have my number. I’m done with classes this evening. And then you’ll meet me for coffee, okay? And you won’t regret it.” 

Ava says nothing. JC pushes back from their table and smiles, hooking his hands back around the straps of his bag. His eyes wander to Beatrice and he nods politely before turning in a lazy circle and heading back through the crowd as the student center starts to fill up as afternoon classes.

Beatrice looks away instantly, busying herself with adjusting her notebook. It doesn’t need to be straightened out. In fact, she pushes it out of place and the pen Ava loaned her starts to roll across the table towards the edge. She reaches for it at the same time as Ava does.

Their fingers tangle and the pen is trapped under Beatrice’s palm. She pauses, every nerve exposed, and looks up to find Ava already looking back at her.

She smiles, mouth still wound too tight. “I’ve got it.”

“Do you?” Ava asks curiously.

Beatrice frowns, looking down. Their fingers are still slotted together, still laced over the pen. Of course she has it. It’s right there, scratching blue ink against her palm. 

“Because it seems like you’ve lost everything else,” Ava continues. “Like your cool, for instance.”

She pulls back minutely. “My-” Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Ava shrugs a shoulder. She only does that when she has a secret, when there’s something that Beatrice missed, a cue she didn’t read. “You do like a free pastry,” she mocks, her voice pitched low in a terrible approximation of Beatrice’s accent. “What gotten into you?”

“Oh.” Beatrice bristles. “Well, you do.”

“I know that. You know that.” Ava pauses. “Why does JC need to know that?”

Beatrice doesn’t have a good answer for that. So she makes one up. “Your potential suitors will need to know things about you. That is less a trivia fact and more of a necessity.”

Ava snorts loudly. Beatrice looks around, but no one seems bothered by the sudden noise. “My potential suitors?” She shakes her head. “Bea, honestly. No one talks like you do.”

She doesn’t make it sound like an insult. She never does, never has. She seems more entertained than anything, but not in a way that makes Beatrice uncomfortable or self-conscious. It makes her feel seen. And she loves to be seen by Ava. It uncoils some of the tension in her shoulder that she knows is radiating into her hand, tense under Ava’s touch.

Ava doesn’t move her hand. “Well, thanks to you, I think I’m going on a date tonight.”

Thanks to me. Thanks to the way she said Ava would enjoy herself. Thanks to her, Ava is meeting someone who isn’t her for a coffee at Ava’s favorite cafe where she only brings Beatrice. One of our places, Ava always tells her with a smile. 

“You can say no,” she reminds Ava, her whole body locking up again.

Say no, say no. She feels each word burn in her throat. But why would she? Why would she pick someone like JC over me?

Ava is still looking at her curiously, head tipped slightly as she studies her face. Beatrice holds still, face perfectly impassive from years of practice. She doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t open her mouth and tell Ava that JC seemed nice but she deserves something better than nice; something spectacular.

Then again, she’s not sure that Ava would feel that way about her.

So she forces her face to relax. Works through each muscle until she’s smiling slightly and nods encouragingly. “But if you like him and can see yourself enjoying your time, you should say yes.”

“Do you want me to?”

The question cuts through her with the intensity of a perfect lightning strike. She pulls back slightly, the only indication Ava’s hand tightening over hers when it starts to slide away. Ava’s face has gone from curious to a level of seriousness usually reserved for her more difficult homework assignments, or when she’s trying to figure out something Beatrice said. 

“I don’t… I don’t think that’s my decision.”

“Well, you’re my best friend.”

Beatrice has never hated a description more in her life. She fights the visceral reaction she feels come alive in her chest. She is Ava’s best friend. She’s admitted that more times than her parents have told her they love her. The first time had been a surprise to both of them, almost too soon after Ava moved in. But it felt natural. Ava slotted into the unknown hole in her life like she had always been there.

But she’d set their whole foundation on fire if it meant one day she could be Ava’s best friend and, and, and.

She widens her smile, feeling like she’s playing a part. “Of course. But I suppose… Well, there’s no harm in trying, is there?”

Ava’s hand slides away now and the feeling that she said the wrong thing rushes in on her. 

“A very diplomatic answer, Beatrice.” She pats the top of Beatrice’s hand before she pulls it into her lap. “Remind me again why you’re not running for student government?”

Beatrice doesn’t smile. She simply touches her notebook, arranging it’s already perfect line. She looks down at the chunky-tipped blue pen sitting on the page, so out of place against the neat, thin, black lines of her notes. Suddenly the idea of writing with it feels overwhelming. 

“I think we better get to lunch.” She puts the pen in front of Ava. “Camila said she was going to meet us there.” 

She needs the buffer, needs to put space between them. Camila is the perfect distraction. Mary and Shannon would know instantly that something was wrong - and they’d corner her until she said what. But perhaps they might not; Shannon seems supernaturally in tune with her and there’s rarely a thing she needs to tell her. Lilith would read Beatrice’s hesitation and be annoyed. Or think it’s Ava’s fault and be cagey when she doesn’t need to be. Camila would be too polite to acknowledge the tension Beatrice knows is radiating off her.

Ava, mercifully, doesn’t argue with her or point out that Camila isn’t meeting them for another 15 minutes and the walk only takes 5. She pockets the pen again and packs her things away, waiting for Beatrice to zip her bag closed.

They walk inches apart, shoulders to themselves. It’s the longest 5 minutes of Beatrice’s life.

~

The door opens slowly. Beatrice looks up from her book, the one she’s been reading since Ava left; the one she hasn’t been reading at all. Ava slips through it, back turned to close the door quietly behind her. When she turns to the living room, she gasps.

“Beatrice.”

Beatrice blinks. “Why are you sneaking back in?”

Ava is still taking deep breaths, hand pressed to her chest. “I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“At…” Beatrice checks her phone, frowning. “Eight o’clock in the evening?”

The tips of Ava’s ears go red just enough for Beatrice to notice. “Well. I didn’t look at the time.”

Beatrice looks out the window at the golden sunset. “It’s still light out.”

“You’re an early sleeper.” Ava sounds like she’s grasping at straws, the pitch of her voice rising.

“Not that early,” Beatrice says flatly. She slips her bookmark into her book, grateful to be closing it. “8 hours a night are important, but if I went to sleep at this hour, I’d be up at four in the morning. That’s too early, even for me.”

Ava toes off her shoes, kicking them towards the shoe rack at the door. One of them lands on the rack but the other bounces off it and away. Ava sighs, fixes it, and runs a hand through her hair when she straightens up.

“How-” Beatrice stops. She suddenly needs to be busy, needs to have her hands moving. She could open her book again, thumb through the pages. But tea sounds better. She stands, crossing to the kitchen and filling the electric kettle.

“I got you a coffee.” Ava pulls out a stool tucked at the breakfast bar, leaning forward with her chin in her hands. “But some kid on a skateboard crashed into me when he cut a corner and took the coffee down with him.”

Beatrice pulls two mugs out the cabinet, dropping a tea bag in each. “Are you okay?” 

“Just my pride.” Ava shrugs when Beatrice looks back. “But I’m disappointed. I got you a mocha chip frappuchino. Lucy put in extra chocolate chips.”

Something flutters in Beatrice’s chest, a sudden thought that overwhelms her: maybe Ava does these things because she feels it too. She pushes it down and smiles. “I do like when Lucy makes my drinks. But, maybe next time.”

Ava is quiet long enough that Beatrice wonders if she left. The kettle starts to whistle and she fills the mugs, balancing them carefully as she carries them to the counter Ava hasn’t moved from. She’s just uncharacteristically quiet. She hums a thank you and curls her hands around the mug, hissing when she finds it’s too hot.

Beatrice can’t help the fond smile; Ava is always rushing into things.

It’s why Beatrice knows Ava doesn’t feel the same way. She’s not rushing into this, not caught up in a whirlwind like she is with everything else. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my date was?” Ava finally asks.

I don’t want to know.

“How was your date?” she asks politely.

Tell me it was the worst date you’ve ever been on. Worse than the one you told me about where the boy slurped his pasta and sauce got everywhere; worse than the one where the girl tried to cast a love spell on you.

Ava shrugs. “It was… nice.” She blows on her tea. “JC is a good guy. I knew that already. But it wasn’t… groundbreaking.”

Beatrice is patient, letting her tea cool on its own. “Does a date need to be groundbreaking?”

“World-breaking.” Ava says it so quickly and fiercely, Beatrice has to blink. “It should be life-altering.”

“That seems like a lot to expect for a first date.” Beatrice points out. “At a coffee shop. With your lab partner.”

Ava shrugs. “Maybe I just have high expectations.”

Ones Beatrice can never live up to, it seems.

She smiles, hoping it looks warm and friendly. “You’ll have a hard time finding someone with an outlook like that.”

“I don’t know.” Ava takes a sip of her tea, hisses again. “I mean, a lot of things in my life have been like that. Getting out of the orphanage. Getting into school. Meeting you.” She’s staring at Beatrice now, a smile on her face.

She curls her hands around her mug and fights the way it burns her skin. She’s hardly earth-shattering, hardly worth that much. There’s no way she could be. But Ava is so earnest all the time, means things so completely. And if she’s saying that, Beatrice has to acknowledge that Ava considers her something great. A great friendship that Beatrice could never, ever risk.

But she feels herself flush all the same. “I’d hardly call it that.” She hedges around her next question. “So, no second date?”

She wonders if Ava hears the way her voice trembles; she can certainly feel it in her chest. 

But Ava doesn’t seem to, too focused on taking another, slower, sip of her tea. This one apparently doesn’t scald her tongue. She grins up at Beatrice, hunched over the steaming mug. She’s brought her legs up on the rungs of the stool and her knees are around her ears. Ava clutches the mug tightly to her chest.

She’s in love with a menace. 

“I don’t think so,” Ava says after a minute. “I mean, I don’t really have a reason not to, but…”

Beatrice breathes in deeply, steadying herself. She’s not a reason for Ava to say no. She knows that. “That’s not very encouraging,” she says instead.

Ava shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not looking for anything to change right now. I want things to stay exactly as they are. Things are perfect. And if I went out with him again, I’d just be, I don’t know. Pretending.”

She takes another measured sip of her tea. She feels like she’s walking in the empty space between the points of knives. “You wouldn’t be happy.”

Ava shakes her head softly. “No, I wouldn’t be. How could I be happy if I was pretending all the time?”

Beatrice knows. Because she is. She’s pretending from the moment she wakes up to the moment she falls asleep alone and all the seconds in between. She’s pretending that everything she’s feeling isn’t consuming her from the inside out.

All the books she read as a child, all the romances novels she devoured in her bed with a flashlight illuminating the pages - none of it described the way it feels now. Love is friendship on fire had seemed like such a childish thing to say. Something arbitrary and insignificant. But now she understands what it’s supposed to mean, what she could never understand before with anyone else.

“You couldn’t,” she admits. She’s not lying.

Ava’s eyes are still piercing, still searching her face. She wonders what Ava is trying to find and she keeps the truth as far away from her as she can. Either she finds something else or she gives up, because her face breaks into two and she’s grinning.

Ava slurps her tea, smiling wider when Beatrice looks mildly disgusted. “Alright. The way I see it, we have two options: we have a sleepover night where you let me braid your hair and I let you paint my toenails.” She laughs when the mild disgust turns into outright horror. “Or, I get you back into that really nice sweater you were wearing earlier and we got off in search of a replacement mocha chip frappuchino?”

Beatrice abandons her tea almost immediately. “Do you know what time Lucy’s shift is over?”

Ava jumps off her stool, landing lightly on her feet. She doesn’t bother with sneakers, socked feet sliding into sandals. Beatrice thinks about telling her how ridiculous it looks: her mid-calf socks usually hidden by her high-top sneakers, and a pair of black slides; her jean shorts where the pocket hangs just a little too long past the hem; her crop top with How you lichen me now? hand-stenciled on the front, from the one botany club meeting she attended; her hair half-pulled back in a high top-knot; a crooked grin on her face.

She’s the most beautiful woman Beatrice has ever seen in her life.

And one day, someone else is going to get to call her theirs. Beatrice will be left with the empty space where Ava used to be, her own space in Ava’s life filled up with someone else. Someone better. Someone she wants to rush headlong into the future with. Someone she sees a world of possibilities with.

Beatrice will be happy for her. Or, she’ll exhaust herself pretending.

“Milady,” Ava says, mouth tripping over the sounds. She holds out her arm. “Will you accompany me on this chip?”

Beatrice rolls her eyes. “You hardly made an effort that time.”

Ava’s smile doesn’t falter. “One of these days, I’ll impress you, Beatrice. You’ll see.” She wags her finger at Beatrice. “And then you’ll realize how special I am. You’ll never want to lose me.”

“No,” she says quietly. Ava slips away to grab her phone, abandoned on the breakfast bar. Beatrice waits by the door, holding it open. “I don’t suppose I ever will.”

It’s inevitable. She’ll lose Ava to someone who loves her out loud, someone good enough for her. But she’s going to bury greedy hands into the moments in between and hold on for as long as Ava lets her.

“I think I’m going to tell JC it was nice, but we won’t go out again,” Ava says conversationally as they exit their apartment building, headed towards campus. “He was nice, but… I’m looking for better.”

“You’ll find it,” she says, believing it wholeheartedly. She unthinkingly maneuvers Ava around a crack in the sidewalk. “You just need to be patient.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit.” Her hand slides to Beatrice’s, their fingers slotting together for a fleeting moment. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait. But I'll try.”

Just keep waiting. Wait forever, her mind screams. Don’t find anyone before I can be who you need me to be.

Ava takes in her silence and laughs. Beatrice frowns, not in on the joke, but doesn’t protest when Ava laces an arm through hers, pulling until their pressed together from the shoulder to their elbows, digging into each other. There’s no space between them, not for a slip of paper or a secret.

Ava hums softly, some tune Beatrice doesn’t know, but would guess is some new song on the radio that she’s never heard. Beatrice lets it bubble in her chest, sinks into it’s familiar warmth, and hopes that whatever God is watching over her lets her keep this moment for as long as she can.

And if he isn’t, she hopes he’s just not paying enough attention to realize she’s living on borrowed time and that she’s running out of it.