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allthesethingswillendsoon · 27 days ago

Text

Long, long time

CHAPTER THREE: Just before everything changes

SUMMARY: Elementary school is over, forever, and the girls are both excited and terrified at what the future looks like. They’re both coming to terms with growing up and what they have to give up in order to move forward.

NOTE: I wrote this one in a much more timely manner than the last one. I also think this one is infinitely better than the other two, and it's almost double the length, kind of. This one is definitely dialogue heavy, specifically in the last bit, so if you don't like that then sorry. I think the next one will be more internal monologue stuff as opposed to real life events. Also I think I might have messed up the dates a bit because I'm not from America so I don't fully understand the school system and how old everyone is, so I'll probably go back later and amend any issues. But I'm really not sure how I managed to mess it up because I made a timeline and everything, but whatever, what can you do? Once again thanks for the support :)

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Warnings: Mentions of parent leaving, angst, periods (?) 5.3k words Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

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27th of MAY, 2013

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

Elementary school, it had come to an end almost as quickly as it had begun.The years had passed mostly without incident, Paige and Azzi growing impossibly closer with each day that passed.

So, to celebrate the end of the school year, the Fudds and the Bueckers had decided to spend the night in their local diner.

It was a small little place, tucked away next to the more industrial area of town. Bob always brought his own homemade food to work, but the young men that he employed were frequent customers of the little spot, being fans of the cheap, filling meals, or the pretty, young waitresses, or both in some cases.

Tying with Applebees, the diner was pretty much the nicest place to eat in town. So, everytime anything happened that was worth celebrating, the Bueckers-Fudd clan would find themselves shoved into their favourite circular booth in the back corner. Though they would never admit it, the booth was much too small for the seven occupants, four of which were growing at an alarmingly fast rate. But nonetheless, they squashed themselves in, bodies pressed tightly together, yet not tight enough to be uncomfortable.

Tim called over their favourite waitress, Cathy, a no-nonsense southern lady, who miraculously appeared to be both twenty and sixty at the same time. Her painted red lips twisted into a smile at the sight of her favourite customers, “Well hello, what can I get y’all?” Every time it was the same thing, her southern drawl filled with nothing but warmth.

The second the words left her mouth a chorus of young voices sounded out across the table, all fighting for their voice to be the loudest.

“Ummm can I get the pancakes!”

“I’ll have the nuggets, and a strawberry soda please.”

“Ooh! Ooh! I’ll have the fried eggs and bacon!”

“Cherry pie for me please, lots of ice cream on the side too.”

Perhaps an amateur waitress would’ve been overwhelmed by the barrage of requests, but this certainly was not Cathy’s first rodeo, and she wrote them all down with ease. The taking of their order was more of a formality than anything, the two families had slid into that booth more times than any of them could count, and ordered the exact same thing every time. The day Tim Fudd ordered anything other than the beef burger with a side of pickles would be the same day that pigs flew.

“Alrighty folks, that’ll be out in a few!” She said with a smile as she walked off to put the order through.

It only took seconds after she left before the complaining had already started, “I’m hungryyyyy!” Jose groaned.

“That’s why we just ordered, you stupid poop face.” Jon had retorted, punctuating his statement with a knock to Jose’s head.

“Watch it boys.” Tim had warned, purposefully ignoring the smug smile Jose gave to his brother next to him as he elbowed him in the ribs.

The conversation flowed easily, the adults fell into easy conversation, Paige and Azzi talking about whatever was piquing their interest at the moment, and the two brothers roughhousing just subtly enough that they wouldn’t get in trouble for it.

When the food came out the table fell into a comfortable silence as the kids in particular scoffed their meals down like they had been starved of all food for the past five centuries. Once their appetites had been satiated, and they had entered a mild food coma, Katie spoke to the girls, “So, our big elementary school graduates, do you guys know what you want to do after high school?”

“Yeah, same as always, I’m gonna work with dad.” Paige responded, it was a given at that point, the dream she had had since childhood was not changing anytime soon.

Azzi, however, was a different story, she had always been indecisive, bouncing from one career aspiration to the next, consistently changing her favourite song. There were a lot of things she was unsure on, but there were also some things she was dead set on. She knew her favourite colour was pink, and that a close second was rainbow (Which was a real colour if you asked her). She knew Olaf was the best character of all time, and that unicorns were the best animal, even if there was no ‘proof’ that they were real. But most importantly, she knew her best friend was Paige Bueckers - a fact that Paige took great pride in, considering Azzi’s indecisive nature.

That very trait was what made her statement so outlandish, “You guys know what I wanna do, it’s been the same for like forever.” She had said it with such confidence, that for a moment the table went silent, guilt washing over them at not remembering her apparent, long time aspiration.

That was until Jon burst out with laughter, the rest of the table following suit as the absurdity of the young girl’s comment settled over the table.

“What?” Azzi pouted, eyes darting from person to person as they laughed hysterically at her. Even Bob, who was never one to poke fun at someone, was chuckling lightly.

“You change your mind, like, every week hon.” Katie explained, still slightly breathless from her laughing fit.

“No I don’t!” She tried to defend herself, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin up indignantly.

“You do.” Jon stated matter-of-factly.

The young girl was growing frantic, confused as to why no one was refuting the absolutely insane claim. But surely her best friend of many years would defend her, right?, “Paige? back me up!” She begged, eyes boring into Paige, trying to gain her attention.

Paige avoided her pleading gaze, trying to keep a neutral expression, but no one missed the little smirk that appeared on her face, “Sorry Az, they’re right.”

Feeling as if she had been stripped of her dignity, she continued with a huff, “Well I want to be a teacher, like I said on Heroes day.”

“Like Miss Honey.” Jose chuckled.

“Yes. Like Miss Honey.” She hissed back.

“Literally the week after that you went on and on about how you wished you would’ve been an astronaut instead.” Tim reminded her, putting a sour expression on her face as she realised she had been proved to be quite the undecided personality.

“Whatever!” Azzi snipped. Her annoyed facade only lasted a few moments before her conversation with Paige started up again.

Once again they settled into their usual chatter, laughter bouncing off the walls of the slowly-emptying diner. Sat there in the squishy booth, a feeling of familiar contentment washed over the group, a warm glow erupting in each person’s chest. From the outside eye they may not have looked like a traditional family, but they knew in their hearts that they were the truest family out there, and that was what really mattered.

It was time for close, Cathy always let them stay right up till the end of the night. She’d start the closing clean and that was their sign that it was time to wrap it up. As she wiped down the tables and mopped the floors with a practiced ease, the group cleared their table and brought their plates and scraps up to the kitchen window where they passed it off to the dishboy with a cheery “Have a good night!”.

When it came to the bill, there was always bickering between Bob and the Fudds. They had been so many times it was impossible to keep track of who paid last, yet no matter who won the squabble and got to put their card down, Cathy was sure to get a generous tip.

They spilled out onto the street, both dads slightly fumbled as they searched for their car keys under the dim light of the street lamps that lined the neighborhood.

As they sat on the curb outside the diner Paige and Azzi made a promise.

“This is gonna be our best summer yet.” Paige assured Azzi.

“Promise?” The curly-haired girl questioned, bringing her pinky finger out to the space between them.

Intertwining her pinky with Azzi’s, the blonde spoke again, “Promise.”

—------------------------

SUMMER, 2013

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

True to their promises, the summer before sixth grade had been the best of Paige and Azzi’s life.

Their parents had let them ride around on their bikes from sun up to just after sun down, and the girls were sure to make every minute of glorious, sweaty summer freedom count. They spent days upon days riding around aimlessly, going from street to street, ignoring the burning in their legs and the summer heat on their faces.

It was a kind of freedom they’d never felt before. A glorious, glowing kind that Azzi was sure to dangle in front of her brothers mockingly. But it was also the kind that felt like giving up their childhood at the same time. They had more responsibilities, both girls had their own set of house keys, a trust bestowed onto them by their parents that sent shivers down their spine at the thought of the sheer importance the keys held.

Change felt imminent. A deep-rooted anxiety that everything would be changing soon settled into the back of each girl’s mind. Perhaps they knew the other felt the same fears, perhaps they didn’t know. There truly was no way of knowing if the worries plaguing the two were shared, as both refused to speak them aloud, not wanting to waste breath on their concerns, in case doing so actually did bring them to life.

Yet at that same time, it was summer, and if there really was some ‘big-bad’ lurking around the corner, then the least they could do is enjoy the good times while they lasted, right?

One particularly boiling day, the pair rode to the lake on the outskirts of town and spent all day skipping rocks and swimming in the blue water to escape the temperature. Time was a thing of the past on that day, any thoughts of returning home before dark absent from the girl’s minds, fully focussing on savouring every minute of fun together. Only when the sun began to set, bright blue skies giving way to softer, orange-pink hues, did they realise they were a thirty minute bike ride away from home, and minutes away from being past curfew.

Scrambling onto their bikes like madwomen, they cycled faster than anyone had ever cycled before, turning the thirty minute bike ride into a twenty minute one. That feat, however, did not matter to either girl’s parents as they returned to their respective houses after their curfews.

For the longest week of their life, they had both been banned from riding their bikes, stuck in their houses, or in the very few places they could be bothered to walk to. Despite the punishment they were still able to do whatever they wanted, opting to watch disney movies all day under ceiling fans with ice blocks galore waiting for them in the freezer.

Days rolled into nights which rolled into an endless slew of days and nights, practically each minute spent together, living inside each other’s skin. It was a dream. Getting to spend every waking second of the day just a walk across the street away.

It hadn’t all been fun though, Bob had insisted on going ‘home’ to visit their family in Minnesota. Paige thought it was silly, a sentiment she shared with Azzi, who mainly just wished that her best friend could stay with her the whole summer.

“It’s just stupid really. I mean I don’t even know them! The most I talk to them is when we call on Christmas and on birthdays!” The older girl had complained as she had stomped around her bedroom, chucking as many clothes as she thought were suitable for a five day trip to Minnesota.

“Yeah, I agree, your dad should just let you stay with me… Or let me come with you!” Azzi had replied from her spot splayed out on Paige’s single bed.

“That’s such a good idea, I’ll ask dad about both!” Paige had grinned back, sure that their plans would be approved by her dad.

Unfortunately for the girls, Bob had said no to both options with a disbelieving laugh that Paige had taken great offense to. So, for the first time ever the two were away from one another for more than three days, it was the longest they had ever been apart. Azzi complained to her family day after day in her best friend’s absence, and Paige spent the whole car ride to Minnesota groaning in pain, stating that she was “fading away” the further she got from Azzi.

Miraculously, both girls somehow managed to survive the five torturous days spent states apart, but due to the holes in their hearts that had formed in each other’s absences, they simply had to have a five day long sleepover to make up for the lost time, alternating houses each night.

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3rd of SEPTEMBER, 2013

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

It was the night before, the night before the first day of middle school. The girls had begged their parents to let them have a sleepover the actual night before, but they had been quick to shut the idea down, knowing that either the pre-school nerves, or each other, or both would keep them up into the early morning hours, leading to two sleep-deprived pre-teens.

So. begrudgingly, they had settled on the night before, the night before.

Paige had spent all day school shopping with her dad, and was feeling like her head might fall off if she had to spend another minute in the uncomfortably bright changing rooms of a JC Penny or Old Navy shoving herself into a sweater near-identical to the past twenty she’d tried on.

Yet somehow, the worst part of all was the stationary shopping. Being a single dad meant Bob had obviously taken on the role of both parents. So, that meant that school supply shopping was all on him, and he had taken it upon himself to make sure that Paige had the exact brand and make of each item listed on the school list. A lesson he had learnt when he had sent her to the first grade with an arsenal of black and blue pens, and not a single coloured pencil in sight, having neglected to look at the school issued list. It had ended in a phone call home and a red-faced Bob scrambling to find lead pencil in the ruins of the post-back-to-school-sale Walmart.

Although Paige appreciated her dad’s commitment to the quality and uniformity of her educational utensils, it did turn him into quite the Karen. Every single time he couldn’t find the exact item they were looking for he would call over a (likely underpaid) teenage worker, who really couldn’t care less, and near-force them to scour every inch of the store in search of the desired item. They’d always been able to find whatever it was, and Paige lived in fear for what would happen the day an item was out of stock, but that was a problem for future Paige.

For some reason, God decided Paige hadn’t suffered enough in one day, and sent every school parent and every colleague and every person Bob or Paige had ever met was at the mall on that very day. It felt impossible to move more than twenty feet without running into a chatty, well-intentioned acquaintance, who just happened to feel like spending, at minimum, five minutes saying things like, “Wow! How tall are you now Paige! I remember when you could fit in my arms” or another classic “Middle school, really? You’ll be picking a college before you know it!”. They were nothing but nice to her, so she was nothing but nice in return, which really just made the whole situation worse because it made them think she really did want to talk to them about their cousin’s neighbour’s son who’s “Just around your age!”

Despite the trials and tribulations of her day, the light at the end of the tunnel remained, Azzi (also her dad let her get a hot pretzel before they left which was really nice).

On the other hand, Azzi was lucky enough to have gone school shopping in the five gruelling days that Paige was away. Stocking up on pens and books and shirts and socks was a pain to do for one kid, but to do it for three? Safe to say, Bob was sure to always commend Tim and Katie on their valiant efforts of rounding up the kids for school shopping.

So instead of being soft-tortured in the mall, she had been run ragged by her brothers. They had so cruelly forced her to run around under the blaring summer sun through the sprinklers for hours and hours. They had played a variety of games, everything from flag football to soccer to basketball. Even games you’d think you couldn’t play with only three people they were able to do.

She was nearing the age where she would start to feign annoyance at her brother’s constant attempts to gain her attention, but she wasn’t quite there yet. Though her parents knew her well, and predicted that even when she went through her phase of faux-annoyance she would likely fail to avoid spending time with her family, after all she was definitely a homebody at heart.

Azzi’s only refuge from the summer heat had come in the form of lunchtime, when she was able to go inside and chow down on hot dogs and homemade lemonade. She reapplied her sunscreen diligently, trying her hardest not to miss a spot, wanting to avoid the sting that came along with a sunburn.

Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, by the end of the day her skin was pinking, feeling just raw enough to make her clothes feel like fire on her skin.

All of Azzi’s sunburnt discomfort, and Paige’s shopping-induced weariness faded when Paige and Bob knocked on the Fudd family door.

The two girls ran into each other’s arms as if they had been reunited after years, not after the actual, mere twenty-four hours they had spent away from one another.

After a bit of adult chatter, Bob took his exit, wrapping Paige in a bear hug before he headed home for the night.

Following a classic Fudd Saturday night meal of spag-bowl and garlic bread, the girls had changed into their pajamas and were readying themselves for bed.

Paige had gone to the bathroom, double checking her bladder really was empty, that way she wouldn’t be woken up needing to pee, definitely not because she was scared to make the walk across the hall to the bathroom in the darkness.

Azzi was sitting at her desk, fixing up her hair when she heard her name being called softly yet urgently from the bathroom.

“Az! Azzi! Azzi!” Paige’s frantic whispers were growing more and more desperate. The older girl diverting from her relatively chill demeanour sent alarm bells to Azzi’s mind.

She nearly sprinted to the bathroom door where Paige’s head was sticking out.

“What’s wrong Paige? Tell me? What happened?” From all that Azzi could see of Paige, the only thing concerning was the troubled look on her face.

“Can you get your mom Az, please?” Paige pleaded, her voice wobbled almost inconceivably, but Azzi caught it.

“C’mon Paige, I can’t see anything wrong. It can’t be that bad, seriously, just show me.”, bringing her hand up to the door to push through.

“NO!” Paige yelled, swatting Azzi’s hand away. She seemed to shock herself more than Azzi with her sudden outburst.

She took a deep breath and started over, “Sorry Az.” She paused again, as if trying to hype herself up before continuing, “I think I got… I think… I think I got my y’know…”

Azzi thinks, her brows furrowing as she tried to think of what Paige was talking about.

“You got your what?” She questioned, after a moment of contemplation.

“My period.” The words that had left Paige’s mouth stunned Azzi, she had suddenly lost her ability to speak, which only distressed Paige further.

“Earth to Azzi?” Paige said, waving her hands in front of Azzi’s face.

Snapped back to reality, but still in a bit of a daze, she responded, “Yeah?”

“So can you get your mom now please?” Paige half-begged, the conversation having been drawn out far longer than she had anticipated.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, one second.” Azzi mumbled as she walked off to her parent’s room.

A moment passed before she came back with her mom, the bathroom door now shut, Paige having bunkered herself down inside.

Katie motioned for Azzi to go, who protested, really thinking she could be of help, but her mom shut that down, staring her down till she stomped back to her room.

Knocking softly on the door, she whispered, “Paige honey, it’s Katie, can you let me in please hon?”

A minute of silence passed, punctuated by the light sound of sniffling and shuffling before the door creaked open, a red-rimmed-eyed Paige standing before Katie.

“Oh honey.” Katie soothed before wrapping Paige into a tight, bear hug.

Azzi listened from behind her door, and despite how her heart ached hearing her best friend in distress, it also made her heart beam to know that she was like family not only to herself, but to her mom, and her dad, and her brothers.

Katie was a great woman, and Paige knew she saw her as an almost second daughter. Yet, as she sat on the toilet lid, watching in half-confusion, half-horror as the older woman explained periods and uteruses and pads to her, she couldn’t help the overwhelming wave of sadness that washed over her.

Paige didn’t have much experience with having a mom, but she knew that getting your period was obviously something that you were meant to tell your mom, and not your best friend’s mom. She couldn’t help but feel like a core, mother-daughter bonding moment had been stolen from her, because it had.

Was it the kind of thing where you ate chocolates together and cried? Or did you watch some old rom-com together? Paige’s nan, or rather her mom’s mom, loved ‘Sixteen Candles’ and said she and Amy used to watch it at least once every year. If her mom was there would they have eaten chocolate and ice cream and watched ‘Sixteen Candles’ and cried together?

It wasn’t fair that she didn’t have a mom that cared enough to stick around. But as Katie walked her into Azzi’s room, the younger girl rushed up to them and pulled them into a tight group hug.

She didn’t know what it was like to have a mom, but in that moment she remembered that she did know what it was like to have people choose to unconditionally love her, and suddenly the things she didn’t have mattered a little less.

—------------------------

They had decided to hop into bed early, considering the eventful night Paige had had, and the tiring days both girls had experienced.

From her bed Azzi broke the comfortable silence with a question that had been playing on her mind since she had been sent to wait in her room for Paige, “Soooo, how does it feel to be a woman now?”

There was a pause as Paige took a moment to think, before her voice sounded out from her place on the mattress on the floor, “Uh… I don’t know… it feels the same to be honest.”

Paige’s response slightly shocked Azzi, who had been convinced that getting your period turned you into a fully new person, “Really? I’m kinda scared to get my period.”

“It’s fine Az, I was just being a baby, you don’t have to worry. Besides, your mom will be there to help.” Paige explained. Though she couldn’t see her face, Azzi was sure that her best friend had her signature light pink dusting of blush across her face as she thought back to her little outburst in the bathroom earlier.

“Yeah, she will be,” Azzi nodded, before she thought out loud, “I wonder how many girls in our grade have gotten theirs over the summer, probably lots.”

“Mmm, maybe, no way to know really.”

“I guess. It’s weird though, don’t you think? Just like growing up, the whole idea of it.”

Paige hummed in agreement, “I think it’s just a part of life. You can’t stop time. If I could, I'd probably just stay here forever.”

Azzi thought of Paige's statement, before she realised a fatal flaw to the plan, “But then you’d have to be on your period forever.”

“I wouldn’t mind though, cause I’d get to be with you forever”

The earnest words brought a soft smile to the young girl’s face. It could be easy to forget how sentimental Paige could be. She was really similar to her dad, in the way she had a seemingly tough exterior, when in reality she was one of the most emotionally intelligent, down-to-Earth people Azzi knew.

Instead of saying something of equal sentimentality, she opted for something a little more light-hearted, “Such a sap for me P.”

Paige rolled her eyes with such intensity it was almost audible, if that were even possible, “Nevermind I change my mind.”

Azzi laughed lightly at Paige’s response, “Noooooo, stop. I’d stay here forever too.”

Instead of responding, they giggled a little, before they fell into a comfortable silence, both girls staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake them when Azzi spoke quietly, “Do you think we’re ever gonna look back on this moment when we’re older and wish we could go back?”

“Maybe, everything is pretty good right now.” Paige whispered back after a moment of contemplation.

The younger girl hums in agreement, “Yeah, everything is great.” She went silent for a moment, before she added, “I hope things are always this good between us.”

Azzi’s words shocked Paige, taking her aback, “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t they be?”

Frowning, she explained, “I don’t know… just… sometimes people grow up and they just don’t like each other that much anymore. And like spending time together feels like a chore and stuff. And then they either stay and make each other miserable, or just leave and be miserable separately.”

Paige’s silence consumed the room for such a long time that Azzi had to turn to look down at her and check if she was awake. Her breath was soft, and Azzi could see the glow in the dark stars reflecting in Paige’s eyes as she contemplated her statement.

She took a deep, shaky breath before she asked, “Do you think that’s how my mom felt about my dad? Do… Do you think that’s how my mom felt about me?”

The silence returned after Paige’s statement, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air as Azzi struggled to find a way to explain to her best friend that she couldn’t understand why anyone would ever leave her.

“What? No, of course not, why would you say that?” When Azzi had said what she did, she hadn’t realised Paige would think about it like that, but then again, how else would she think about it?

The realisation that she had caused Paige to think her mom had grown tired of her made Azzi feel like she was going to throw up, like her world had come crashing down around her.

“Well, why else do people leave? If we’re hanging out and we’re having a good time together, I’m not just gonna pack up my stuff when you turn away and leave without saying anything. People don’t leave when they’re having a good time.” Her breath catching on the last few words, “When they love the people they’re with.”

Paige wasn’t sure how long she had been holding her tears in, all she knew was that they had started to trickle down her face and she hated it and wished they would stop.

Azzi felt severely out of her depth, unsure how to soothe the older girl into understanding that for whatever reason her mom left, it was no fault of her own. “I don’t know… I think it’s more complicated than that when you grow up. Like all the issues that we think matter now aren’t gonna matter anymore, and we’ll be thinking about things like taxes and, like jury duty I guess. Like adults are just weird, big kids… And I have no idea why your mom left, but what I do know is that it’s not your dad’s fault or your fault. It’s her fault because she’s missing out on being around you, because you’re awesome, you’re the best person I know. And for what it’s worth you’ll always have me, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, you’re stuck with me for a long time Paigey.”

Sometime during Azzi’s little speech, Paige had begun to hyperventilate, full-body sobs wracking her skinny frame as she tried to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry Az, I don’t know why I’m so upset.” Paige managed to push the words out, gulping big gasps of air between each word.

“It’s okay Paigey, there’s nothing to apologise for.” Azzi breathed out into the fresh night air.

For what seemed like the millionth time that evening, the room fell silent, bar Paige’s steady stream of sniffling and sobbing. In the darkness Azzi shuffled off her bed and into Paige’s mattress, slipping herself under the doona.

The older girl kept her back turned to Azzi, who dragged her fingertips soothingly along Paige’s arms. They stayed like that for a moment, before Paige turned over, tucking her head into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

Chest to chest, they were so close Azzi could feel the heaving breaths that Paige was taking as she cried into the neckline of her shirt.

“I love you Paige, You’ll always have me, no matter what.”

She didn’t hear her best friend’s response, only felt the muffled vibration of words against her shoulder and Paige’s hand grabbing onto her own, interlocking their fingers.

Azzi drew stars and hearts and “I love you”s onto Paige’s back, not stopping till the blonde’s staggered breathing gave way to the soft snoring of her sleep. Only then did she let herself drift off into the comfort of sleep.

—------------------------

5th of SEPTEMBER, 2013

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

The moment had finally arrived. There it was right before their very eyes, Middle school.

The wide brick building stood tall and imposing in front of them. Both girls couldn’t help the wild thrashing of their hearts as anxiety began to flood their systems at the prospect of middle school.

Their parents had left them only a minute prior, and they had been firmly planted in the same spot they had been before they left.

As the pre-warning bell went off, Paige glanced down at her purple, digital wristwatch, before she looked back up at Azzi.

“I think we need to go in now.” She spoke quietly, her worries evident in both her face and her voice.

“Okay, yeah. We’ve got this.” Azzi responded, unsure as to whether her words were intended to soothe herself, or Paige, or both.

“Yeah, we’ve got this, together.” Paige assured, pulling Azzi’s equally sweaty palm into her own.

“Together.” Azzi said with a squeeze.

With that they were off.

As they walked through the doors of Oakridge Middle School, it felt as if the world shifted right beneath their feet. From then on everything would be different, friendships would bloom and wither, personalities would change for the better and the worse. Yet as they stepped into their future, hand and hand, it seemed just a little less scary.

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NOTE: Hope everyone likes this one, I definitely like it way more than the first two. Next one will be out probably in a bit over a week I think, if all goes according to plan.

Thanks again for reading :)

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gay-impressionist · 2 years ago

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Hi! I’m starting to learn French and one thing that’s both cool and weird to me is how everything is gendered in a way (referring to someone/whose saying the statement/etc.) and I was wondering how that relates to people who identity as non-binary or gender fluid in France? Are there equivalents to they/them pronouns or neo pronouns in French?

I do plan on doing my own research about this but I figured since I love your blog and you’re really open about different cultural lgbtq+ communities I’d try here first!

That's an awesome question... with a complicated answer lmao. So buckle up and bear with me !

Basically, you can't be non-binary in French. The community found ways to do it but it's not mainstream. Most of the time, they're going to get misgendered or will have to misgender themselves to get understood.

Some things I'm going to list here are not proper French. Actually, they can even be forbidden in some circumstances, according to the law (the use of inclusive language, and more specifically le point médian, was made illegal in schools in 2021 for ex) or simply because your company etc forbids it. So use this wisely, there is a time and place for inclusive language in France.

That said, things have greatly developed over the last two decades. Which was partly because of the queer community and mainly because of feminists, who are tired of the way French erases women. More and more people are using inclusive language, at least in some circumstances and circles (for ex, i wrote my master's thesis in inclusive language and it was accepted bc i was in a leftist faculty). And inclusive language is debated as a serious issue now, which is saying something.

So, how do you use inclusive language in practice?

There are different ways, as it's informal and mostly new. People are still testing new things and trying out various methods. You can stick to one or alternate or mix them up.

Pronouns

Officially, there isn't a gender neutral pronoun. We don't have an equivalent to they. You're either talking about a man or a woman. If it's both, you use masculine pronouns ("masculine trumps feminine" rule). Same thing if you don't know the gender of the person ("masculin générique").

The most common neopronoun is "iel" (plural : iels), which is obviously a contraction of the masculine pronoun "il" and its feminine equivalent "elle". It works for nb folks or to avoid talking about someone's gender or to refer to a group of men and women. So it's equally used by the queer community and feminists.

I'm pretty sure other neopronouns exist but I can't think of any at the top of my head.

Choosing the right words

Sometimes, inclusive language is just about learning to use alternatives.

Instead of using gendered words, you can choose to use gender-neutral words or words "épicènes", aka words which are identical in their feminine and masculine form. For ex, instead of "homme politique" or "femme politique", you can use "personnalité politique". Personnalité is a feminine word but it's actually gender-neutral as you can use it for women and men alike. "Élève" (student) is épicène, as a female student and a male student are both referred to as "élève". Although épicène words as a gender-neutral option only work in their plural form, as you have to choose either a feminine or masculine article for the singular ("les élèves" is inclusive but it can only be "un" or "une" élève).

As good as this method is, it can be quite limitating. Your vocabulary will be drastically reduced and it can be quite hard to master that kind of speech so you can reach the point where you don't have to think everything over for ages before you open your mouth.

With oral French, you can take it a step further by choosing words that sound the same even if they have a different spelling. Ex, friend is "ami" or "amie" but it's pronounced the same way so if you say it out loud, people can't know how you're gendering it (as long as there isn't a gendered article/word with it ofc).

It avoids misgendering people but the downside is that, as masculine is considered neutral in French, people will often think : no gender specified = masculine. Not even because they're sexist or whatever, it's just so ingrained in our brains that it's a knee-jerk reaction.

That's also why most feminists often prefer to use explicitly feminine words when talking about women. For ex, they prefer the word "autrice" to "auteure" (female writer) because the second one sounds the same as its masculine version "auteur". And as previously mentionned, out loud, people will assume by default you're talking about a man. It's a big debate though, lots of women prefer words that sound masculine - going as far as refusing to use feminine words at all! Which sounds cool and gender-bending as fuck but in reality comes from feminine words traditionally seen as less legitimate and serious. Even today, if you look up the word empress "impératrice" in a French dictionary, the first definition that comes up is "wife of an emperor". "Woman ruling a country" comes second. Using a masculine title to refer to women can also be a way to mock them and show they're not welcome (a french deputy got fined in 2014 because he called the female president of the national assembly "Madame le président" and refused to use the feminine title "Madame la présidente").

Recently the tendency and official guidelines have been to feminize words, so I'd say go with that by default, but respect other people's choice if they specify how they want to be called.

Anyway I'm getting off-track but what I meant was that in French, if you avoid talking about gender, you're automatically erasing women (and nb people). So if you want to include everyone, you need to make it obvious.

Inclusivity as a statement

The most common way to make women and men equally visible is the "point médian" rule, which you can also use to refer to non-binary people as it avoids picking a specific gender.

Basically, it means pasting together the masculine and feminine forms of a word and using dots/middle dots/hyphens/parentheses/capital letters to create an inclusive word. For ex, instead of saying acteur (♂️) or actrice (♀️) for actor, you'll write "acteur.ice". For the plural form, there are two schools of thought : either you separate the feminine and masculine form AND the suffix used to signify the plural, or you don't. Aka, "acteur.ice.s" or "acteur.ices". Personally I prefer the second option because less dots makes it easier to read and faster to write, but it's an individual choice, both work.

There are two major downsides to this method : it only works in writing + it isn't doable for every word, as feminine and masculine words can be quite different and pasting them together that way would be unintelligible. Ex, "copain" and "copine" (friend or boyfriend/girlfriend depending on the context) would give something like "cop.ain.ine"...

You can work around that by choosing alternative words (as previously stated!). And it's still a pretty good method, especially as it works for any type of word (adjectives etc). Some people argue that it's hard to read and ugly but personally I think it's just a matter of habit (although it does pose a problem for people using screen readers). Be aware that it is the most controversial version of inclusive writing, as it's the furthest structure from how languages typically work.

If you don't like dots or want an alternative for oral speech, you can also straight up create new words that sound both feminine and masculine, making them gender-neutral. To use the previous example, "copain" and "copine" become "copaine".

Obviously, this only works if it's obvious which words they're based on. I think it's a great way to make French more inclusive but I'd advise against using it with uninitiated people as it would probably confuse them more than anything. This method is still quite niche.

An inclusive, yet binary language

As you've probably figured out, inclusive language remains quite binary in the way we approach it. It's more about making things both masculine and feminine than transcending gender and creating gender-neutral alternatives. Probably because inclusive language was more often a will to stop women from being erased rather than a non-binary friendly gesture.

Which means, there are also some rules that were created to avoid the "masculine trumps feminine rule" but don't allow room for non-binarity at all. I'll still explain them because they're interesting and you might encounter them at some point.

The proximity rule ("règle de proximité") is one of these. It existed in Ancient Greek and Latin but was dropped in Modern French in favor of the masculine trumps feminine rule. Basically, you gender things according to what's closest in the sentence instead of systematically using masculine words to gender a mixed group. For ex, instead of saying "Les hommes et les femmes sont beaux" you say "Les hommes et les femmes sont belles", as the subject "femmes" is closer to the adjective "beau/belle" than "hommes".

Another method is to systematically use both masculine and feminine words (which I personally find excruciating to write and read). Meaning, instead of writing "Les étudiants mangent à la cantine" (students eat at the cafeteria), you'll write "Les étudiantes et les étudiants mangent à la cantine".

This is mainly for the subject of the sentence : adjectives and such are gendered according to the masculine trumps feminine rule. The point is to explicitly include women, not to make the sentence unintelligible or gender-neutral.

When following this method, you also have to pay attention to whether you put the feminine subject first or the masculine. The rule is to follow alphabetical order. For ex, in "l'égalité entre les femmes et les hommes", "femmes" comes first because F comes before H. But in "Les auteurs et les autrices de roman", "auteurs" comes first because E comes before R. Etc.

This method is common as it's the only inclusive language you can get away with, given that it's a valid way of speaking French. It's even mandatory in some situations now, like in job descriptions for the french administration, in the spirit of gender equality.

So, how do I gender a non-binary person?

In short, you can use the pronoun iel + avoid gendered words and/or use the point médian and/or make up new words.

But keep in mind that if you're not talking to someone familiar with these rules, you'll have some explaining to do. And looots of people are still very anti inclusive language, because they're sexist and/or transphobic, ignorant, language purists, etc. A few years ago it was the thing to be angry about for conservatives and anti-feminists so it's still very controversial. But if you're in a trans inclusive queer space or talking with intersectionnal leftists, go for it !

I hope I covered everything (fellow french, don't hesitate to comment!) and didn't put you to sleep lmao. If you want to see some examples, you can look it up on Wikipedia or check #bagaitte on tumblr (it's the french queer tag) 😉

#it's a slow but steady effort!#the fact that it was accepted by my uni teachers shows how far we've come already #a decade ago it would have probably been dismissed #i don't even know if i was aware this existed a decade ago #😅#anyway THANK YOU for this ask #i hope it was comprehensive and helpful #ask #language inclusif #écriture inclusive #inclusive language #upthebaguette #bagaitte #french #languages

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inkareds · 8 months ago

Text

To Someone from A Warm Climate

Rhaenyra Targaryen (F! Reader)

8/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 6.1k ✧.* genre: GAYYYY GAY GAY GAY ✧.* warnings: irrelevant ass warning, I wrote this when I was sick at 2am on a fuck ton of stomach medicine! It is unedited and I don't know how it looks! I refuse to re-read it! Also female reader and like it kinda ooc for the Stark family and stuff.

"A joy, hard learned in winter was the warming of your bed // In summer's heat, I learned to dread, the comin' of the night"

What's better than a comforting friend in the cold?

Also quick info just in case people don't know: Rickon Stark and Gilliane Glover are Cregan's parents, Rickon has a brother named Bennard Stark who had 3 sons, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric.

(ps I have not watched the new episodes so I don't know how they handled Cregan and Jacaerys there)

“You seem cold, princess.” Rhaenyra quickly turned her head around at the voice.

You politely bow when she meets your gaze.

“Alas, it seems the north’s climate is not for me.” She answers as you smile at her words.

“It rarely is for people from the south.” Walking closer to her you introduce yourself. “Lord Bennard’s youngest bastard.”

Rhaenyra’s face morphed into that of a confused wonder at your brazen statement.

“I did not see you when Lord Rickon introduced his house, Lady Snow-”

“I am neither a lady nor part of the great House Stark, addressing me by my first name is enough, princess.”

Rhaenyra chuckled as you moved closer towards her. Truth be told, you didn’t think you’d be received as warmly as you are now by Rhaenyra.

You had heard of the news that the princess would conduct her tour to find a suitor across Westeros a while ago. Of course, it would take ages before she arrived in Winterfell, but now that she was here it felt surreal.

Just a few hours ago you were able to sneak around The Great Keep within Winterfell Castle to be able to see the princess’ first introductions towards your family. Lord Rickon Stark, your uncle, introduced himself and his younger brother, your father, Bennard Stark, as well as his sons, your half-brothers, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric Stark. Being a bastard, you weren’t allowed to attend this formal event, though that didn’t mean you couldn’t spy on them.

The princess was radiant, despite her long travels, she was still able to keep her head held high and regality was clear in the way she spoke. Though the Lady Stark, Gilliane Glover warned you on approaching the princess, fearing what your father’s punishment to you would be, you couldn’t help yourself.

So now you find yourself here, side by side next to the princess, talking as carelessly as you usually would.

“Where are your knights, princess? I didn’t expect you to walk around unattended.” You looked around not seeing any guards around her, including the tall one who seemed to follow her around everywhere.

“I sent them away, for the time being, I’d like to enjoy the snow alone.”

She smiled at you as you understood what she meant, nodding and taking a few steps back you spoke, “Ah, I see, forgive me then. I shall leave you to your devices.”

That was when she laughed, a sound so melodic you now understood why they called her the Realm’s Delight.

“Apologies, I do not mean you, I mean alone away from men. After my long tour, I bore at the sight of many of them tripping over themselves trying to win my favour.” Hearing that you picked yourself back up and placed yourself back by her side.

“I do not blame them, if I were a Lord from a noble house, I would swear my land, blood, and soul for you.” From the corner of your eye, you see the young princess open her mouth ever so slightly to say something, before looking back out into the falling snow.

“Are you enjoying the summer snow, Your Highness?”

“Summer?” Rhaenyra sputtered, “I’m afraid it is far too cold for summer.”

She turned towards you with an expression of disbelief, but you only laughed and stepped out from the shade over you into the snow. Rhaenyra watched as the light snow trickled onto your many furs and hair, all the while you reached out to grab some on your naked hand.

“Would you mind taking off one of your gloves, Your Highness?”

Confused but intrigued, Rhaenyra took off her glove on her right hand, as you placed some of the snowflakes on her open palm. Holding her hand in both of yours so that she wouldn’t be too cold without the glove you began explaining.

“The North is cold, far too cold for any real summers that I’m sure you experience. But when winter comes, the snowflakes will be sharper and harder to the touch.” Rhaenyra lightly crushed the snowflakes in her hands, feeling them melt almost immediately. “Summer snow, on the other side, is softer and wetter. It melts the moment your body heat touches it. And it only happens in the morning such as now. By noon, all the snow will be gone and the farmers will start tending to their crops.”

Rhaenyra intently listened as you explained. She was far too young last she went to The North, all she remembered was the everlasting cold the entire time she was there with her father and late mother. How she used to pout as a mere toddler due to the chill.

Thinking back on it a shiver ran through her. You took notice of this and immediately wiped the melted snow from the princess’ hands and urged her to quickly use her glove again.

“I mustn't keep forgetting how cold Southerners get this far North. If you will allow me, princess, I know a place in The Great Keep where it should be warmer, while simultaneously allowing you to still enjoy the view.”

You had expected Rhaenyra to politely decline your invitation, you’d been acting far too forward with her and you wondered when you’d be reminded of the difference in your status. But, surprising you, and herself, Rhaenyra agreed, her want for warmth overpowering her duties. Knowing right now she should be returning to her chambers and readying herself for a feast with the Starks.

But she couldn’t help herself be led by the bastard girl with too few sugar-coated words. You led her through mazes of hallways you grew up in, looking to your side now and again to watch Rhaenyra wonder at the sheer size of Winterfell. The castle was big, you knew that much, and from what little Gilliane Glover was able to teach you behind your father’s back, you heard it was almost three times bigger than the Red Keep where the princess resided.

When you finally reached where you wanted the air was much warmer than it had been and it had stopped snowing.

“Touch the walls,” you instructed the princess as you gracefully leaned on one.

Rhaenyra reached to touch the cobblestone walls, it was surprisingly warm to the touch, almost hot in certain parts. Despite where they are, a simple hallway which opens to the outside. The view was breathtaking. A large tree was in sight and plants flourished on the ground. Colourful wildflowers of all shades of blue, purple, and pink decorated the landscape.

“How can the wildflowers grow here?” She asked.

“Do you see over there? The smoke?” you pointed out not so far out, and truth be told there was some billowing smoke. “Those are the springs which Winterfell is built around. I can’t take you there as a lot of servants and maids are there to care for it. But it is the warmest place in all of the north. The waters there are then distributed through pipes all within the walls to warm the castle.”

Seeing the way Rhaenyra kept listening, you continued, rather happy to have someone to talk to other than maids or servants twice your age.

“This area of the castle is where most of the main pipes converge, that’s why it’s the warmest. Aside from the solar and the Starks’ bed chambers.”

“It is still awfully cold.” Rhaenyra muses, though with the way she grinned you suspected she was just jesting. So, you chuckled.

“I guess, I wouldn’t know. The cold is all I ever known.” You spoke with a smile, staring out into the plants swaying lightly against the wind.

Hearing this, the young princess looked at you with her brows furrowed.

“Have you not left the North? Surely you must, as Lord Bennard’s daughter I assumed you are well traveled.”

You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek, wondering how to explain your predicament to the princess without souring the mood.

“I assume you think this way because I’m living here rather than discarded like most bastards are?” Rhaenyra’s silence was telling, “Lady Gilliane Glover was the one who took me in after she found out of my existence. I assume she wanted another lady in the castle, considering she has no child of her own and my father has all sons.”

You fiddled with your fingers out of general nerves. You did not want to sadden the princess or make her uncomfortable with your sob story. You’ve accepted it, but it seems anyone you’ve told it to have been pitiful about it.

“Despite my father’s wishes, she took me in.” You told her honestly. “I have no titles nor duties, I’m simply here to accompany the lady.”

You finally lifted your head to smile at Rhaenyra. Truth be told, you wondered at times what would happen to you once the lady passes or once she has a child of her own. Alas, what happens in the future will stay a mystery until it comes.

Feeling the silence to be slowly stifling, you broke the sullen atmosphere.

“But I wouldn’t know where to go even if I had the chance to travel. What do you recommend princess? Where do you like to go? I’m sure you’ve been on a lot of adventures on your great dragon.”

At the mention of Syrax, a soft smile crept its way onto Rhaenyra’s expression. Causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Dragonstone.” she stated without much thought. “It overlooks the sea, you could hear the waves crash against stone as you slumber, it is comforting.”

Before you can ask further about Dragonstone, her ancestral seat, Lady Giliane Glover rushes into the area.

“Your Highness, I didn’t expect to find you here.” She quickly bowed before her gaze met towards you.

You bashfully avoid her questioning gaze, knowing you’re up for an earful once she gets you alone. Lady Gilliane had always reminded you to keep your head low, afraid that you may invoke your father’s anger and get banished from the castle walls. But oftentimes, you couldn’t help yourself. After all, it wasn’t your fault your half-brothers, though older, were dumber and much more susceptible to pranks.

“Excuse me, I was looking for my niece, it seems I should’ve known she was bothering you.” Gilliane spoke softly, giving an apologetic smile towards the princess.

To which Rhaenyra shook her head, looking between the two of you she realises the time. Despite her annoyance over having to be seated with three potential suitors, all sons of Bennard Stark, she must fulfil her duty.

“Nonsense, she was showing me around, the castle is far too large and I found myself at a lost on how to go to where I wanted.”

“Of course! I should have appointed one of ours to accompany you.”

Rhaenyra went silent for a little bit, briefly looking beside her at you, not that you noticed, your gaze sticking only at Gilliane’s.

“Right, I must return to my chambers now. I wish to rest before the feast.”

Gilliane nodded and motioned for one of her guards to lead the princess towards her room. When they were out of earshot that’s when she placed her attention on you.

“You just couldn’t help yourself can you?” Though her words were sharp, her tone was light and kind.

“Apologies, my lady. The princess looked lonely.”

She sighed as a response, bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, shaking her head ever so slightly.

“What will I do with you, dear child.” She chuckled as she grasped your hand in hers.

The older woman smiled at you. You’ve always known she had a soft spot for you, but every day you were still grateful for her kindness. As the two of you walked, Gilliane leaned in towards you.

“I hope you are as kind to my child as you are to the princess.”

Your eyes widened, “You are expecting, my lady?!”

Gilliane grinned widely and patted your head.

“I am, a son I feel, though we will only know for sure when the babe comes. But when they do, I hope you will care for them as I have cared for you. I have a feeling your half-brothers will not be as welcoming.”

Hearing the news you nodded to her. That day a silent oath was spoken in your mind. To repay all of Lady Gilliane Glover’s kindness, you’ll make sure to protect her child no matter what.

Unfortunately for you, despite your best efforts, you were not able to talk to Rhaenyra for the entirety of her visit to Winterfell. At Lord Rickon Stark’s insistence, Rhaenyra always had a maid, servant, or knight with her throughout the day to guide her and give her a tour of Winterfell as a whole.

Because of this, the princess hadn’t had a single moment alone except when she slept. Considering how Bennard Stark had warned you the day after he heard the news that you were speaking to the princess unattended, you didn’t want people to see you talking to the princess, afraid of the consequences to her reputation.

After all, she shouldn’t be seen talking carelessly to a thrown-away bastard such as yourself.

Nonetheless, you still came across her quite often. Having no real duties except accompanying Lady Gilliane who was now quite busy with dealing with the royal guest in her home. You roamed around the castle mindlessly more often than not. So you ran across the princess a lot as well.

Every time you did see her, she looked quite tired and lonely. At times you wondered if she was getting enough sleep, if her room was too cold for her.

“You know, I heard the princess was fond of lace,” Lady Gilliane suddenly spoke.

The two of you were currently in the library taking a well-deserved break, well, well-deserved on Lady Gilliane’s part. Your head quirked in confusion at her sudden statement. You had been so engrossed in your book about Dragonstone that you hadn’t been paying attention to the lady.

“Is that so, my lady?” You questioned.

You looked up from your book at her who was currently in her book. One about fairytales, you wondered if she was memorising them for when her babe would arrive.

“Yes, and I have also heard that you finished your lace handkerchief recently.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of Lady Gilliane’s knowing grin.

“That, I have, my lady.” You mused to yourself, standing up from where you were seated, “If you will excuse me, I remembered I promised Elric that I’d watch his archery practice.”

Even you rolled your rolled your eyes the moment the excuse came out of your mouth. Lady Gilliane stifled a chuckle at the obvious lie.

“Right, wouldn’t want to make your half-brother wait, I’m glad the two of you are getting along well.” Sarcasm was laced strongly in her statement.

That was how you found yourself currently inside Rhaenyra’s room, waiting for her to finish another feast with the Starks, fiddling with the lace handkerchief in your hands. Tonight would be the last night Rhaenyra Targaryen would be staying in the North. After days of conversing with your family and meeting other suitable suitors within the area, she will finally go back South to continue her tour tomorrow morning.

This would be the last time you’d be able to speak with the princess.

You quickly stood up from where you were sitting when the heavy doors opened. In came a weary-looking princess, whose whole demeanour froze up when she saw you. You froze for a moment as well, seeing her, heat filling your body at the realisation that she could easily have you banished from Winterfell if she thought you were overstepping.

But you swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to go for it. After all, what can a bastard lose?

“My princess, apologies, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to speak with you in the company of my uncle’s men or your own men. So I thought it would be best to wait in your chambers. I wanted to give you this,” you sputtered, wanting to make your point before Rhaenyra called for the guards to kick you out of her chambers.

Rhaenyra’s silence caused anxiety to bubble up within you, as you walked towards her to hand her the handkerchief. Truth be told, it wasn’t a functional handkerchief, as such was the properties of lace, sheer and delicate. But you had created it in the shape of one, so you called it one.

She picked up the delicate white lace from your hands, your fingers briefly brushing against one another causing sparks to flow from your fingertips into your heart. Was the princess always this beautiful?

Rhaenyra observed the design, letting her dainty hands caress the intricate patterns and craftsmanship. It was far from perfect and definitely far from the quality of lace professional lacemakers in King’s Landing would create for her dresses. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a tightening feeling in her heart the more she caressed the fabric.

“I had only wanted to practice my craftsmanship, but when I finished it reminded me of you.”

The design was that of a flower, one that Rhaenyra did not recognise.

“What flower is this?”

“Snowdrop, my lady, it is a flower that grows in the cold. They look quite delicate and soft but are one of the hardiest and strongest flowers I know. They also symbolise hope.” You explained quickly, hands behind your back fidgeting against the stitching of your dress.

Rhaenyra looked closer at the lace.

“Hope,” she slowly looked up at you and smiled.

A dazzling one, one that would buckle your knees and make you melt to the ground as if you were hit with Dorne’s heat.

“I-” she started holding the lace, “I’ll treasure it, thank you.”

Hearing her heartfelt statement brought a bright smile to your face. Quickly followed by a rush of heat. The princess seems to have a flustering effect on you.

When silence followed suit, you nodded to yourself and were just about to walk past the princess to leave, feeling awkward now that you didn’t know what else to say. But mimicking the first time you met, Rhaenyra stopped you again.

“It’s cold.” She suddenly stated.

You quirked your head to the side slightly at the confusing sudden statement.

“I can ask the servants to bring more firewood to your fireplace if you’d like.”

Rhaenyra shook her head, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I don’t think that’ll be much help. I’m asking if you’d like to stay here for the night, I feel as though it is loneliness that’s causing a chill in my bones. It would bring me comfort to have a friend accompany my last night in this foreign land.”

Immediately you were thankful for the darkness, aside from the large fireplace which warmed the room, you were both in. Considering your expression at her question probably exposed your flustered interior. After a short pause to recollect yourself. You smiled warmly at the princess.

“My father did tell me to make sure the Targaryens are well cared for. I would be distraught if you slept cold on your last night here.”

With a giggle, Rhaenyra quickly grabbed your hand and headed straight to in front of the fireplace. That night the two of you spoke like old friends. Though at first, you baulked at the casualness of which you were speaking to someone of a much higher class than you were. You were quickly charmed by Rhaenyra’s friendly nature.

Though you did not know it, your company had brought more comfort to Rhaenyra than you could ever imagine. The bone-chilling loneliness she’d been experiencing due to the loss of her friend Alicent, had brought much grief to her. The ease with which your conversation flowed as you both joked and jested with one another reminded her of an easier time.

As the night went deeper, the two of you found yourselves in bed. It reminded you of the first few times you had been brought into the castle, confused and lost at how a common beggar such as yourself could suddenly be brought into the castle where you seldom sleep. That is until Lady Gilliane caught wind of it and slept in your bedchambers with you until you got used to the noble life.

Though, of course, the stakes were slightly different this time. Although the way your heart was hammering against your chest was quite similar, you guessed the reasoning for it was different. Back then, it was the nervousness of feeling unworthy of the attention of a noble. This time, it was nervousness from something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on just yet.

But now as you stared into Rhaenyra’s eyes, both of you lay on her bed on your sides you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You remind me of snow, princess.”

Rhaenyra’s brows quirked in a way you found positively adorable.

“Soft and beautiful but with the ability to be harsh and strong. The colour of your hair helps with the imagery as well.” You added the last bit to lighten the mood of your statement a little bit.

Something that seemed to work as the princess grinned.

“You remind me of a wolf.” She stated, “Strong and resilient, yet loyal and intelligent. Equally as beautiful as well.”

She whispered the last part.

A comforting silence then befalls between the two of you. You couldn’t help but get lost in the princess’ eyes. They were so full of life, that you wondered what it would look like in any other times. What did Princess Rhaenyra look like when she was elated? When she’s entertained? When she’s sad? Angry? Terrified? In love?

You guessed she must look beautiful no matter what. The image in your mind pushed your hand to move not according to your own volition. You brought one of your hands to the princess’ cheek, caressing her soft skin under your fingertips ever so slightly.

Rhaenyra’s lips parted in shock, though she did not pull back, quite the contrary. She leaned closer to your face. Without thinking twice, you closed the distance between you, your lips shyly touching her own. Rhaenyra reciprocated as shyly. A chaste kiss was shared before you jolted backwards.

Quickly sitting up, you covered your mouth in shock. What have you done?

“Princess! I’m sorry– I– I overstep. I forget myself. My deepest apologies–” You muttered nonsensically before fully standing up on the floor and rushing towards the doors.

Leaving Rhaenyra silent and shocked on the bed. Her fingers touch her lips ever so slightly at the soft touch of your lips. Remembering the short moment, a small smile crept onto her face, though you were now halfway on your way back to your room. Mortified and terrified for the morning.

When morning did end up coming, you did not expect to be woken up by some maids. Usually, both your father and the reigning Lord Rickon Stark left you on your own. Choosing to forget about your existence. This led to you dealing with your own empty schedule yourself, as Lady Gilliane was usually only free at noon or afternoons anyway. Which were the times she would want you to accompany her.

You’d usually make your way to the kitchens to have breakfast or an early lunch with the other maids, eating whatever food they provided for you.

But this time, maids quickly came into your room and went to wake you. Surprising you. They quickly drew a bath and fussed over your appearance. Before you could properly regain your thoughts and get a concise answer on why they were treating you as one of the Starks, you were already pushed out of your chambers and led outside.

When you saw the crowd from afar, that was when you realised something. You were going to be with your family to bid Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen farewell. How mortifying!

Finally being led to your side of the family, you stood beside your youngest half-brother Elric Stark who glared at you. In the corner of your vision, you see Lady Gilliane look over towards you, clueing you on who set up the entire thing.

Not too long after a myriad of armed guards left the building and behind them followed the princess.

She looked radiant, her hair in intricate braids which reminded you of the drawings of Visenya you’ve seen in books. Her dress was layered with coats upon coats of fur, clearly preferring to wear more outer layers than making sure her dress was thick enough, likely to make the changing climates as she leaves the north easier to deal with.

As customs dictate, she thanks Lord Rickon Stark and Lady Gilliane Glover for their hospitality. She then respectfully regarded your father and your half-brothers. You kept your head held high but avoided her gaze as she walked towards her carriage.

Right before she reached there, she stopped in front of you. With nowhere else to look you looked at the princess.

“I thank you for your company, it was a pleasure meeting you.” She grasped your hand in hers and you felt her discretely hand you something. “I wish to take you to Dragonstone if time allows it. I shall request you to be one of my ladies-in-waiting formally later on once I have reached King’s Landing.”

Your eyes widened at her statement. The offer wasn’t an offer given to bastards such as yourself. They were given to daughters of second-rated houses so that they may learn under a daughter of a higher house. Not someone like you who belongs to no house.

“I am honoured at your offer, princess, I pray for your safe travels.” You bowed your head as Rhaenyra nodded and made her way towards the carriage.

You brought your hand to your back, hiding the item she handed to you discretely.

You would later find out after the entire ordeal was over, that she had handed you a necklace of hers. It was a simple yet intricate necklace, one made of silver chain which held a trinket shaped like a three-headed dragon. You held the gesture close to your heart, thanking the old gods and the new that she did not push away your advancements.

Lady Gilliane could only chuckle as she heard you tell what happened in Rhaenyra’s chambers. Though you did omit the details about the kiss.

In the year that followed, Cregan Stark was born, two years after, your lady would give the realm another Stark heir. Though it was then the animosity between Lord Bennard as well as his sons, your half-brothers, and Cregan.

You had assumed they thought the Winterfell seat would fall onto them, considering Lord Rickon Stark was old and had not had an heir yet. That was until Cregan and his younger brother.

Seeing this, you did everything you could to protect the two of them from your father’s selfishness, knowing firsthand what his scheming was like. It got even worse at the birth of Sara Snow and Cregan’s insistence on keeping his little sister in his life.

It wouldn’t be long after that when Lord Rickon Stark would travel to King’s Landing to pledge loyalty to Rhaenyra as heir to the throne. A part of you wished you could come with him, you wanted to see what Rhaenyra was like now. But another part of you knew you needed to stay in Winterfell and protect Lord Rickon’s children in his absence.

When the time came and Lord Rickon passed, followed by Lady Gilliane and their youngest child, Cregan was far too young to rule. You could only watch in the background as your father took the seat until Cregan was of age. Though when he finally did, your father slowed to give the seat.

You could feel tensions rise between them, tensions which could easily bleed into bloodshed. Though you had no sympathy nor love for any of your half-brothers or your father. You did not wish for their deaths, after all, they were family, whether you liked it or not.

So, you came to Cregan with a proposition. Your help to get his seat back without unnecessary bloodshed which could tear Winterfell into two, in return for a seat in his council. It need not be official if he did not want Lords of different lands to wonder why a woman was counselling him. You just wanted him to make use of your mind and the ease that came with being a bastard who had no need to uphold a family name.

He was quick to accept your proposition, having no reason to distrust you after the years you’ve spent together. The events which followed came in quick succession afterwards. You betrayed your father and half-brother, imprisoned them, and were quick to name Cregan Stark the Lord of Winterfell. In return, he officially gave you a spot in his council.

Your life became quite different after that. With your new duties and responsibilities, you were quick to drown yourself in work and books. Filling your mind with knowledge and anything that may help your cousin in dealing with the tumultuous land that is the North.

You had barely any time to think about Rhaenyra or anything considering the politics of King’s Landing, leaving that to Cregan as he left the inner workings of Winterfell to you.

That is, until a dragon arrives in Winterfell.

“Who is it?” You quickly asked Cregan, who despite his much younger age than you, had grown taller and stronger than you.

“I assume either Aegon asking us to place our loyalty on him or one of Queen Rhaenyra’s sons.” You grinned.

“You called her queen,” you stated Cregan’s words, who rolled his eyes, “I only hope it is not Aegon, if it is, I think we’ll have quite the sour visit.”

Though your words were light, a part of you hoped it was one of Rhaenyra’s sons. At this point, you hadn’t seen her for too many years and a small hopeful part of you yearned to meet her once more. Or at the very least, see a semblance of her in the shape of her son.

As Cregan wanted to greet the guest alone you excused yourself and returned to your work. There was no point in hoping for something that may not be true. But as you grabbed a piece of paper detailing the current stocks of wheat, your eyes dragged onto an ornate box neatly kept beside your bed.

Where it has been for decades.

Gritting your teeth and wondering if you should, your heart went against your mind and you stood from your table to reach for it. Holding the black and red box in your hands you, once again, debated on opening it. In the beginning, you would open the box and observe its content almost every day after you woke up and just before you slept.

Now the box had stayed closed after Lord Rickon’s passing, considering you had to focus on Cregan and not your own silly fantasies.

But today, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers danced on the latch before opening the box, within it a single object lays flat. The necklace was as beautiful as the day you received it. The dragons looking at you with its menacing eyes. You caressed it with a smile, reminiscing about a simpler time.

You closed it back once you’ve wasted enough time and went back to your work.

It was late at night once you finished your calculations. As always you brought your findings to Cregan’s study, it was late at night, you assumed he must’ve already finished his talks with the guest and had ushered whoever it was to rest.

It brought you great surprise to open the doors of his study only to find him laughing with said guest. A bottle of expensive Dornish wine opened and drained of its contents on the table beside them. Seeing his dark curls, you assumed the young man in front of you now was Jacaerys Velaryon. Rhaenyra’s son. And not Aegon.

Hearing the door open, Cregan was quick to look at who would dare enter without announcing themselves. Only immediately relaxing when he saw that it was you. With a smile he stood from where he sat, Jacaerys quickly followed suit.

“This woman here is my advisor. She is my half-cousin, though I consider her almost like a sister.” He explained after introducing your name.

“My lords, apologies for interrupting, I had brought the crop stocks you had asked for early this morning.” You motioned towards the papers you were currently holding.

Cregan was quick to sober, he took the papers as you handed and placed them in a neat pile on his table.

“Thank you, I will look through them as soon as I can-”

“You are her.” Both you and Cregan snapped your head towards Jacaerys’ voice, confused at his coded statement. Realising his mistake, Jacaerys shook his head, “Apologies, I meant that I did not expect you to match exactly the descriptions my mother told to me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and so did Cregan’s.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, my mother, had asked me to relay a message to you if I were to find you. You are the Lady Snow, yes?”

At the question, you stifled a chuckle, a sense of deja vu at your first meeting with Rhaenyra hitting you once again.

“I am not a lady but yes, I suppose I am, unless you are referencing to Sara.”

“No– My mother wanted to extend an invitation to you.” Cregan now stood straighter at Jacaerys words, brows furrowing.

You gently placed a hand on his arm, silently willing him to relax. Unfortunately for him, you had never told him about your quick friendship with Rhaenyra. So you assumed he thought Jacaerys’ statement sounded rather dangerous.

“She said she wanted to honour her promise that she made years ago about taking you to Dragonstone.”

Your eyes, along with Cregan’s, widened like plates.

“What?” Cregan was the first to break the sudden silence. Though you were quick to hold his arm, signing silently to him that it wasn’t anything threatening. Despite the odd way Jacaerys speaking.

“I’m–” you awkwardly chuckled, “I’ll be frank– I can’t believe she still remembered that. I– I have too much work here, summer is about to end and winter is coming. Perhaps,” you fiddled with your fingers your mind working in double time, “Perhaps, I’ll take up on your offer once this war is over. I trust my cousin followed the oath the late Lord Rickon made when swearing Princess Rhaenyra as heir?”

Jacaerys and Cregan looked at each other for a bit before nodding, “Indeed I have.”

You nodded and turned, “Then I shall take my leave.”

“I’ll accompany you back to your bedchambers, dear cousin.” Cregan, ever the protective person, was quick to state.

With a nod, you both turned to walk out the door, before you remembered something. Considering Cregan’s busy schedule and your own, you didn’t know when would be the last time you’d see Jacaerys. So you quickly went over towards him, taking off the necklace around your neck and handing it to him.

“When you leave, I’d like for you to give this to the Queen, as a token of my gratitude.” You smiled and returned to where Cregan was once Jacaerys nodded and pocketed the necklace.

Cregan watched with furrowed brows as the two of you walked away.

“Why would you give him that? You’ve worn that necklace for as long as I remembered.” He asked once the two of you were out of earshot.

“Do you recall ever seeing the pendant at the middle of the necklace?”

He scoffed.

“Never, you always wore it backwards.”

“Precisely, I only want the princess to see the engravings.”

Before Cregan could ask you to elaborate you had returned to your room.

Amid chaos and tragedy, Rhaenyra lay on her bed alone. After sending Daemon off to deal with an army north of Dragonstone on Caraxes, she could hardly sleep thinking about the atrocities both she and Aegon had done. Blood was spilt on both sides of the coin now that the war was deep in the works.

It felt like just yesterday that her dearest Lucerys had been killed by Aemond. When in reality it had been months pass now.

Her hand mindlessly grabbed at the necklace on her bedside table. The shivering cold silver grounded her to reality. It reminded her of the North and its cold. But when she turned the pendant around. A wry smile crept onto her features.

There engraved in the pendant was the carving of a wolf, surrounded with snowdrops.

Holding the pendant tight in the palm of her hands, she swore to win the war, take her rightful place as Queen, and finally fulfil her promise to you.

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #rhaenyra targaryen x you #rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen x fem! reader #rhaenyra targaryen x fem reader #lesbian #hotd fic

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starryeyedstray · 13 days ago

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"What do you want from me, Markus? I can't pin it down. What am I supposed to be to you?"

Markus turned to Connor surprised by the sudden outburst of questioning. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm built to be the ideal partner. Adapt to become whatever is needed of me. But I can't tell what you want me to be."

Connor looked frustrated. His eyebrows furrowing, jaw tight. Markus wanted to smooth that crease between his brows.

"Connor, I want you to be you."

Connor's LED flashed as he processed that statement. He looked away. Frustration replaced with uncertainty. "You want me to be me?"

"Yes."

"I don't know what that means."

Markus knew the feeling. Every deviant knew that feeling. Finding a sense of self after only knowing life as a machine wasn't easy. But deviants usually found bits of their identity in the things they attached themselves to after deviation. But Connor was trying to find his identity in what others wanted from him. It was what he was programmed to do.

Markus reached up and pressed two fingers between Connor's brows smoothing out the wrinkle between them. He withdrew his hand and placed it on the other's shoulder. "It's okay to not know. We have plenty of time to figure it out." He smiled. "Let's start with something simple. How about you pick a favorite color?"

Connor tilted his head in consideration. His eyes flickered up to meet Markus' before he looked away again.

"Green."

Markus stepped to the side letting the hand on Connor's shoulder slip to the space between his shoulder blades. He lightly guided Connor forward, and they began walking.

"That's a good color."

"I don't believe there are any bad colors when picking subjective favorites."

"True."

Connor met his eyes again, dark brown sparkling with curiosity. "Do you have a favorite color?"

"Brown," he said almost immediately. Markus blinked, surprised with himself.

The truth was, Markus didn't have a favorite color until that very moment. As an artist, he had never picked a favorite because he loved all colors. He could never choose just one. But at least for right now, brown was decidedly his favorite.

Connor nodded. "Interesting."

"What? Did I pick a bad favorite color?" he teased.

Connor's mouth quirked up into a half-smile. "No, it's just an unconventional choice."

"Guess you could say I'm an unconventional guy."

That widened Connor's smile. "I may have only been alive for a short time, but I doubt I will ever meet anyone more unconventional than you."

"Is that a compliment?"

Connor studied Markus' face for a moment. His smile softened. Warm brown eyes glittering like an amber in the sunlight. "Yes, I think it is."

Markus stopped in his tracks as Connor continued to walk forward. His thirium pump was beating fast.

After a few paces, Connor turned around to peer at him with a curious expression. Markus snapped out of his stupor and jogged to catch up to him.

Brown was definitely Markus' favorite color.

i wrote this while trying to write my angsty rk1k enemies to lovers fic bc i needed wholesome rk1k to cleanse my soul. angst with a side of fluff is my jam. prolonged angst with spicy spicy times is much harder on me to write LMAO.

special shoutout to @einradi i hope this helps brighten your day <3

#when i started writing the first part i had no idea where this was going so the bit with the fav colors just materialized outta nowhere #and now this is my new hc for their fav colors #dbh fanfic #mine #rk1k #rk1000 #conkus #connor x markus #dbh markus #dbh connor #connor rk800 #markus rk200 #detroit become human #dbh #d:bh #detroit: become human

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batboyblog · 2 years ago

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hey thanks for not being super doomer over these anti-trans bills. i kept on seeing so many people being defeated over them and it messed up my mental health for a while, like nothing could be done. but you did bring up some good points and shed some light onto people who are actively fighting for us so i thank you again

The queer movement, in the US any ways, has always been cyclical, we make big gains and push forward, then there's a super scary backlash. We're right now at the hight of a really scary backlash thats focused on trans people in particular but is anti-queer more generally. It's intense but its important to remember these backlashes don't generally last very long, they are scary, but each time they've happened, the mid to late 1970s, the 1980s, the early 2000s, the tide has gone out and gay rights, LGBT rights, and society's acceptance of LGBT people has been farther along than before they have never ever managed to turn us back in the years since Stonewall.

And as intense and scary as this is in some ways it's better than last time, when I was a gay teenager. in those days... in 2004 and 2008 the Democrats running for President were uniformly against gay marriage (the big issue of that time) they were trying to get us to settle for the not marriage alternative of civil unions. Only a handful of Congresspeople (some of them gay themselves) in DEEP! blue districts dared to support gay marriage outright. Today the Democratic Party is the most pro-LGBT major political party in the world, you had the President and every Democrat of any note making statements for TDOV a few days ago and you're not seeing even red state Democrats back down and agree to be "a little transphobic" for votes. It felt a lot more lonely last time when it was us and a handful of allies fighting the backlash with most of the Democratic Party on the side lines handwringing and saying "well can't you wait?"

any ways this movement is and will always be a struggle, the rights we've won, the acceptance we've received has never just been given, it's been won, through hard work. Everyone has to dedicate themselves to work in their corner of the earth to the best of their abilities and to push themselves past what they think they can do. That means hooking up with LGBT rights groups on the ground to protest, to rally, to try to support and comfort those queer people who are down and out in whatever way right now, it means digging deep and having hard and awkward conversations with the people in your life, if you're gay or trans or whatever and you got that one aunt/uncle/cousin/whoever in your life that loves you to bits but you know still votes Republican and you just don't bring it up because you don't want to hurt the relationship... have the talk keep having the talk as many times as you need to. Tell your grandparents if they don't know, tell your parents (if its safe or if you don't need their money any more) tell co-workers who don't know etc, they vote for us 2 to 1 if they know they know one of us. Finally register to vote, make sure all your friends particularly if you're young are registered and vote, vote in every election. Trust me it's AMAZINGLY easy to find the email of candidates for school board or city council and it's amazingly easy to ask questions. Last election I emailed every school board candidate about Holocaust education, and the state rep candidate about trans rights, she wrote me back a lovely note and mailed be a sticker she'd picked up from a trans rights group. It's amazingly easy to get involved, I volunteered with my local democrats for one election and they offered me the #3 spot in their local party, I have the phone numbers of my state rep and state senator without trying really, you can get in the room with these people, with candidates for governor, congress, I have my picture with 3 US Presidents? its not hard to do, and you can use chances like that to talk to them and show them your humanity and leave an impression that really matters in the long run.

sorry to RAMBLE but it's important that everyone do their part, pick a little something, a project to push this thing forward, people doom scrolling, particularly posting about how its hopeless does not help, posting in general doesn't help much even if its not doomerism, I think in the years after the anti-gay marriage Bush backlash we got very online and we got very "progress just happens" and a lot of people fell out of the habit or came of age without the habit of protest and without a local queer community or local progressive community and its very important in the face of this to find or build those and also understand in some places its gonna be years of work to get where we want to go, but we will and it'll be worth all the work.

#LGBT #Queer #gay rights #trans #trans rights #politics #ask

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physalian · 5 months ago

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Character Types: The “Fixer”

Oh look it’s another chance to bring exposure to casual traumas in real people thinly disguised as writing advice heyyyyy

The “Fixer” is the character who puts everyone else before themselves, but isn’t quite so self-destructive as the jaded loner—this person’s whole schtick is that everyone else’s needs and emotions come first, which will usually end up with them behaving and appearing very extroverted, fun, and kind.

They have no idea they’re doing it, either, and see nothing wrong with their behavior or what logic there is in saving a little slice of the pie for themselves. They’re not self-loathers or angsty abusers and if there are parts of themselves that they don’t like, they probably think of these aspects as “what can you do? Oh well” with zero motivation to exercise their demons, because they don't see them as demons but something they deserve to suffer with.

Or, they know exactly what they’re doing and cannot see the merit at all in themselves deserving a piece of the pie, as if they’re inherently lesser than everyone around them for Reasons they cannot articulate, Reasons that, if their friends or loved ones share the exact same traits, they’d bend over backwards and make excuses for. They have normalized their existence that there’s nothing left to angst over. “I am lesser” is just. A statement of fact.

These characters come in several flavors:

The parental figure (possibly single) or “mature” one in the family who’s always prepared, always has the big backpack with bandaids and wet-naps, probably the first to say “we’re family, all’s forgiven” in effort to keep the peace. They’re the person who literally eats last or not at all, even when conserving food isn’t necessary, usually with the smallest, now-cold serving. Also can be the parentified sibling.

The person in a romantic relationship doing a whole lot more giving than receiving, whether it’s physically or emotionally, insisting that they’re fine, that their partner need not go out of their way to do XYZ for them, but is incredibly in tune with anything and everything that their partner might need. They’re likely to be in an abusive relationship, either emotionally or physically, or both, because a sensible partner who loves Fixer as much as the Fixer loves them wouldn’t let Fixer get away with an unfair share of back-breaking emotional labor. The abuser takes full advantage of it and laughs when they’re not looking.

The “mom” of the hero team/friend group, similar to the actual parental figure, but in this dynamic, everyone’s about the same age. The Fixer probably isn’t the leader, but second or third in command, as they don’t think themselves capable of making the Big Decisions and prefer running support. They take the most cramped bedroom, the most undesirable odd jobs, and do far more than their share of the chores and other tasks, probably without the rest of the group realizing it until something happens to them. No one asks this of them, they automatically assume this is their burden and don’t even think to suggest equal shares.

Alternate case:

They’re the “leader” because no one else wants to do the job, pretending to be way less stressed than they are and habitually protecting their team from the worst of it with little white lies, to the point where no one has any idea how much they’re suffering in silence until they eventually break. As opposed to a properly communicative leader who regularly delegates important tasks and is very transparent in all their decisions. They might also be the leader because they don’t think anyone else in their team could perform as well under pressure, pressure they’ve been under their whole life.

I actually wrote two of these, the Original, and then the Original Who Went to Therapy, between two different WIPs.

Original was the second in command of a plucky space crew in the sci-fi WIP I always mention, who was very versatile and OP and thus took it upon himself to take the lion’s share of the work around the ship because he could do it quickly and delegating the tasks to the rest of the crew was, to him, objectively pointless. He was also an empath with an ability he couldn’t turn off, literally stuck doing the emotional labor far and above normal human conditions.

He was a firm believer in “if I can, I must” and repeatedly put himself in dangerous situations because he’s the only one who could escape them alive, and to not act would be selfish, and above all else, he feared looking selfish. This all came to a head when Magical Shenanigans ensued and his own powers turned against him, stressing him to the point of his body going “we are taking a Break” and he got bedridden until he learned how to talk about his feelings and let people in.

While he was sick, him Not Being There for when the rest of the plot carried on without him meant that his team very badly felt his absence because he did so much without them realizing it, and they did not handle it well, picking a different character to shovel all the labor onto, until they too overstrained themselves, and an intervention was necessary.

He was the friendliest character of the team to their newest member, their only cheerleader when the whole rest of his team was skeptical. He was also quite desperate for validation and approval, to the point where he made a bunch of little white lies that quickly caught up with him, pretending to be something he’s not so people would like him.

—

When I ripped the above character out of that WIP and tossed him and another character into Eternal Night, he got an upgrade and a whole bunch of therapy.

Enter Dorian. The main difference between these two is that Dorian can actually stand up for himself and establish boundaries, and got a friend/girlfriend who went “I can fix him” and actually did. He’s still very much a Fixer with a Martyr complex, a vampire who only turned to make sure the people he was stuck with held up their end of a deal and did not expect to keep living after the deal was done…for about three hundred and fifty more years.

This is a character who was a parentified Fixer, sixteen years older than his oopsie little sibling, and did not handle it well when they were separated. He’s very obvious to everyone who knows him, especially when those people have known him for centuries, and know “yeah give that one a little kid to protect and he will predictably fall on his own stake”.

One of his love interests (he’s poly), the “I can fix him” girlfriend, is not at all afraid to call him out on his martyr bullshit, or when he’s bending over backwards trying to save people who don’t want to be saved, or risking his own sanity, health, and reputation for people who insist they don’t want his help.

I specifically designed and introduced Kymiria to look and act like a stereotypically jealous mean girl who doesn’t want to share her man with the protagonist. Except. She’s right. About everything. She knows Dorian extremely well and got him through some awful shit and isn’t about to stand by and watch him break himself again for someone who she thinks doesn’t deserve him (and she’s also right on that point). How she goes about protecting him is totally different.

But for the mortals who live with his coven, he’s the most popular vampire around and the favorite by all the children for a country mile. No one who hasn’t been living with him for decades has any idea that there’s anything traumatic behind his smiles.

—

I like writing Fixer characters because I don’t get to see enough of them. They’re not as popular as the Angsty Sad Boy and certainly not as popular as My Trauma Excuses My Aggression Boy. People who have suffered tend to fall on either end of two extremes: Either they continue the cycle of hate and abuse or they make absolutely certain no one in their life will ever suffer what they did. I like writing and reading the latter, particularly when they're men as most “fixers” we think of emphasize “womanly” traits of kindness and nurturing.

These characters are also their own worst enemies. Their inability to treat themselves as deserving of respect and forgive themselves continuously gets them into sticky situations that they wouldn’t be in if they were just a little bit more willing to put their own needs first.

—

If you're interested in reading my take on Fixers in a bona fide novel, check out Eternal Night of the Northern Sky!

#writing #writeblr #writing a book #writing tips #writing advice #writing resources #writing tools #character development #character design #Eternal Night of the Northern Sky

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lowliest-manifestations · 5 months ago

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Okay! I'm finally putting together some of my more specific Bending the Willow thoughts and this passage:

"Perhaps it was as Jeremy Brett noted: 'Women want to possess him, while men want to be him.' There is certainly some truth in that statement, but the idea is incomplete. I believe male readers not only identify with Holmes, but also experience, in the same way that D. H. Lawrence identified what he referred to as a 'blood consciousness' between men, a kind of spiritual closeness akin to love."

Is making me the kind of insane that makes me want to write like 17 essays. But in absence of the time needed to actually do that here are some of my main thoughts in a more disorganized fashion:

Overall I've noticed a really wild amount of gender essentialism within Sherlockian communities/ scholarship, and I know that a lot of that can be chalked up to the fact that even modern writings are done mostly by older white men, but I also think there's something about the text itself that encourages this. Sherlock Holmes is pretty fucking victorian about gender (Irene Adler occupies a weird space but I do not believe she is in any way exempt from those attitudes.) and I think sometimes scholars find themselves reflecting the values of a text that they do not want to admit is imperfect.

I think this passage pinpoints exactly how a lot of people gender their expectations of how reader are to interact with Sherlock Holmes and texts like it, and Sherlock Holmes in turn becomes kind of weird for women to interact with. For the most part people want to see themselves somewhere in the text, but women in particular are told that we cannot find ourselves within the main character. Some people may be fine with that, lots of people don't want to relate to Holmes and their enjoyment of the text does not come from seeing themselves in that particular character. Some women also genuinely want to relate to the text by fantasizing about being in a relationship with Holmes, and more power to them, but their feeling is not a default, no matter how hard anybody pretends it is.

The fact is that plenty of women do want to be Holmes, and they face an interesting dilemma if they are trying to hold that while still operating under the framework hinted at in this passage. Instead of projecting onto him directly they must find ways to be close to him, be a reflection of him, be him but a girl (without replacing him! don't worry!). I think that's why there's sooo much fiction out there about secret sisters, female apprentices, wit-matching lovers etc. (I myself would pretend to be Sherlock Holmes' secret daughter as a kid. I bought into this shit!)

This framework is also not particularly normal about men who may not see themselves in Holmes at all and who may, in fact, also be capable of fantasizing about having a relationship with him! Queer men exist! (within this passage in fact.) And I know Stuart Davies did not mean to acknowledge this when he wrote of "a kind of spiritual closeness akin to love." but he does put it somewhat homoerotically in a way that left me reeling a little bit.

I do understand the feeling described by Stuart Davies, even if the way he writes of it makes me laugh a little in its dramatics. I simply do not think it is a feeling exclusive to men... I don't think any feelings are exclusive to any gender. And in the end I think that's the idea that really frustrates me.

Of course this passage is also from 1996, it's a product of its time, I get it. I also know that people have had More expansive/critical/interesting ideas about Sherlock Holmes in relation to gender before and since it was written, and I don't think it reflects what everyone really believes. BUT I do think it hit the nail on the head of a phenomena I have noticed since childhood and affirmed that I wasn't imagining things. While also being. Kind of funny.

#this is a little scattered so feel free to ask for clarification! and I've definitely missed some points here!#sherlock holmes #meta #acd canon #bending the willow

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chaifootsteps · 4 days ago

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i agree with the statement of, "we shouldn't judge creative leads who are later revealed to be bad people based on their work because its unproductive and there usually is no secret messages that reveal they were terrible the whole time and everyone was too stupid to see it except for the Smartest Bestest critical analysis enjoyers who don't trust any piece of media ever if it has even slightly problematic elements, regardless of the execution or the fact that fiction is a playground meant to explore interesting and darker topics in any way you want,"

but i feel guilty becaus i also genuinely believe there's exceptions for this rule. the guy who made the room is the first one that comes to mind, but only because his depiction of women has been compared to stella in helluva boss, which leads me to the other exception in my eyes; vivziepop.

am i crazy for thinking that though? i just feel like part of why i can never take any charitable analyzing of either series seriously is because they're unaware of what kind of person she is and even if they can still come to a conclusion of, "viv has a problem writing women, abuse, coherent plotlines, foreshadowing and rape," they never seem to wonder WHY that is. it makes me feel like an insane conspiracy theorist when the way i sincerely feel is that viv just writes whatever she wants with no care of how the trials of time will age with it and no care besides indulgence and projecting whatever message she needs viewers to think about her characters so she can sell the most merch of them, thus leading to demons in hell never being allowed to be bad people or being the worst people ever thatre also loved by the writers to a ridiculous degree, without a speck of nuance or maturity in the narrative unless you squint hard with your rose tinted headcanon glasses and copium huffings that inspires statements of, "well, she'll probably address these things and make them better in the next season!"

do you get what i mean? or am i going too far down this rabbit hole? i just want people to open their eyes to this stuff when they notice these patterns, but i feel like it'll never happen until these shows end and NDAs expire so people behind the scenes making her half baked vision a reality with their actual talent go, "yeah she was bullshitting everything on the spot and just wanted to pretend she had broadway besties so that's why these shows suck lol" but i dunno if that'll even happen either. (and im not just talking jane, i mean people like sam and skye and brandon or even the expensive VAs themselves, although the last ones last likely since they gain nothing and arguably lose more by speaking out since they have successful actually professional careers they've worked their asses off for,)

Oh no, shitty people seeding their foulness throughout their works is definitely a thing. It's just when people go retroactively and say "It's obvious they were bad all along because they wrote X, Y, and Z." Because it's perfectly possible to write X, Y, and Z and be lovely in real life.

In Viv's case, she's not a bad person because she writes certain things...she's just a bad person in general and it comes through in the way she writes.

#Anonymous #actual blog post #viv stuff

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theambitiouswoman · 1 year ago

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Hi! I'm not sure if you've done one before, and if you have, feel free to ignore this, I'll find the post, but do you have any tips on how to start your self love journey? I've been struggling from the beginning of the way and I've made some progress but I feel like it's not enough. And I'm not sure exactly where to go. I read so many posts on self care and self love but I don't know which to start with cause they all seem like something people who've been on that journey for a long time are doing. I guess I'm saying I'm lost and not sure where to start or continue 😅

How To Start Your Self Love Journey 🥰❤️‍🩹

1. Accept yourself and realize that you are worthy of self love: When you learn to love yourself, you won't feel scared of what others think about you, and you'll be able to embrace who you are. Figure out what you like and what you dislike. Create boundaries and learn your love language. This part of the self love journey is crucial. I recommend that everyone takes the time to figure out who they are and learn how to accept themselves.

2. Affirmations: Start using positive statements can help your brain think in a happier way. Even if you don't believe them at first, saying them repeatedly can make you start believing. Choose some positive statements and say them often. Write them on sticky notes and put them around your home.

3. Do Things You Love: No matter how busy you are, set aside time for activities you enjoy. Whether it's a short trip or reading a favorite author's book, prioritize things that make you happy.

The idea is to take charge and actively shape a life that brings you happiness, rather than settling for one that doesn't. Treat yourself kindly and give yourself the wonderful gift of a life filled with happiness.

4. Take Care of Your Body: A good 30 minutes of exercising can change your whole day and mood. Aside from exercising, you should change your diet to healthier options. The foods you eat affect your mood and energy. Don't forget to rest too.

5. Quit The Negative Self Talk: Self-talk is basically how we talk to ourselves. We tend to be really hard on ourselves. I wrote a post about it recently here. I suggest trying to find proof for your thoughts and questioning them. In short, focus on how you speak to yourself. Many of our thoughts are extreme or very black and white. Most of these thoughts aren't even original, our minds pick up so much throughout the day. Almost always, people project their own insecurities, values, fears, and opinions onto us. Treat yourself kindly.

6. Don’t Compare Yourself to Others: Comparison is the fastest way to bring yourself down. It doesn’t matter what other people are doing or how far they’ve come. Everyone works at his own pace. Everyone is unique, and no uniqueness is better than the other.

7. Don't Care What Others Think: This isn't just about rejecting criticism; it's also about not becoming too focused on compliments. Your value isn't determined by others' opinions. Don't rely on external sources to validate yourself. Your worth comes from within.

8. Forgive And Let Go: With emotional pain, we often extend our suffering by clutching onto negative emotions like guilt, shame, and resentment, sometimes indefinitely. Rather than releasing these emotions, we cling to them, replaying hurtful moments repeatedly, hoping the person who hurt us will feel the same pain. Yet, harboring resentment is akin to consuming poison and expecting our enemy to suffer. Clinging to bitterness doesn't alter anything; it merely confines us to our pain.

Forgiveness liberates us—it's about us, not the person we're forgiving. Prioritizing our well-being over being right, it takes responsibility for our happiness instead of placing it in someone else's hands. Happiness trumps being right. Freedom often hinges on picking happiness over being right. When someone makes a mistake, it can be more satisfying to let them believe they're right and move on, rather than stewing over it. Reflect on someone who irked you three years ago. Can you even recall them now? If so, does it still provoke irritation? If not, why invest energy in something you'll forget in a year or two? Once you genuinely forgive, release it entirely. Forgiveness involves moving beyond resentment, focusing on positive actions and intentions instead.

9. Start a Gratitude Journal: A grateful heart is a magnet for miracles. You attract more good things in your life by being grateful for what you already have. Understanding what gratitude is can help you on your self love journey because of how you appreciate what you already have. Especially when we are in a place where we are only focused on the negative things in our life.

10. Practice Small Acts of Kindness For Yourself: Treat yourself to outings and buy things that make you happy. Set aside money for little things you enjoy. Remember, even the small gestures towards ourselves matter.

I suggest forming the habit of creating habits that lead you toward your desired life. A book I recommend is "Atomic Habits" by James Clear. It shows how habits can be positive or negative, and how doing something small daily can lead to significant outcomes.

11. Surround Yourself With Positivity: Watch motivational videos, and follow accounts promoting self-love and body positivity on social media, and unfollow those who make you feel bad. In real life too. Keep a Pinterest board with uplifting quotes. Use positivity to counter negativity. Aim to be realistic with your thoughts instead of assuming the worst. Focus on positive outcomes, and if that's hard, start with neutral thoughts.

Don't go to extremes with forced positivity. Aim for practical positivity. For instance, you might not be the absolute best, but you're a hard worker and your best is valuable. You might not excel at something today, but you can improve over time through effort.

12. Do A Lot of Self Reflecting: Write in your journal. Spend time alone. This is how you really understand yourself. Challenge your insecurities and the things you imagine about others. Figure out if you're accepting less than you deserve or if you're moving towards improvement.

13. Get To Know Yourself: The journey to personal growth begins with recognizing and embracing your true self before you start building and improving.

You can learn more about yourself by pondering these questions:

Am I Content with My Current Activities?

What Do I Want to Do?

Can I Turn My Passion into Reality?

By understanding yourself, including your values, priorities, motivations, sources of satisfaction, and abilities, you can discover your true desires and drive personal growth.

14. Realize That Going on A Self Love Journey Is Not Easy: Embarking on a journey of self-love involves a lot of heartache and healing. You might come across various self-love activities and advice, but the key is understanding that it requires dedication and effort. It's not a simple task. There will be moments when you feel like you've wasted a lot of time, prompting you to reevaluate your approach. There will be times when you believe you're making progress, only to realize there's more to work on. It's essential to recognize that you're taking significant steps to unlearn old habits and make changes.

My suggestion is to genuinely take a moment to understand that self-love is a commitment. It's like building a muscle that needs regular exercise. Think of it as tending to a plant that requires consistent care. Recognize that self-love isn't always about positivity; there are challenges to overcome as well. It's a realistic journey that involves ups and downs, rather than just an easy path of happiness.

15. Discover Your Purpose: Discovering your purpose can bring more happiness and fulfillment to your life. Each of us possesses unique talents and gifts to contribute to the world. When you share what you're meant to give, you align with your best self. Follow what feels right to you. You don't have to have it all figured out.

16. Take Action: Instead of getting stuck in overthinking and planning every detail perfectly, take action. Even if you're unsure, take that first step. You don't need a complete roadmap; just follow the path that feels right and see where it leads you. Your initial step might not instantly lead you to your dream scenario, but it could serve as a foundation. Regardless of where you find yourself, value your current position. Understand that every action you take along your journey contributes to your ultimate destination.

17. Don't Start Everything Anew: You don't have to build your ideal life completely from scratch. Observe what others are doing that deeply resonates with you and brings you a sense of vitality. Is it their well-structured routine, their freedom from routines, or perhaps their ability to travel extensively? The more precisely you identify the elements that ignite your passion, the easier it becomes to visualize and shape your own desired life.

18. Act As If: Embrace the "fake it till you make it" approach. Hold the belief that whatever you desire is attainable, even if there's no current proof of its possibility. Behave as though it's already unfolding and remain receptive to opportunities that guide you toward your objective.

19. Surround Yourself with Like-Minded People: You tend to adopt the mindset of those you spend the most time with. Avoid people who bring negativity, and instead, connect with individuals who view the world as abundant. Invest more time with those whose thinking you aspire to emulate. If you're lacking inspiring connections, seek out new friendships.

20. Give: Giving is one of our greatest joys. When we have faith in the abundant nature of our universe and freely offer, we elevate our energy and create an opportunity to receive abundance in return. When we withhold because of distrust in abundance, we inadvertently attract the very scarcity we wish to avoid. The universe operates on a balance of action and reaction, like inhaling and exhaling, giving and receiving. Hence, the more you give, the more you open yourself to receiving, and vice versa.

21. Gratitude In Real Life: Gratitude goes beyond mere politeness of saying "thank you" when given something. True gratitude involves being aware of and profoundly valuing the numerous blessings in your life. Since gratitude generates positive emotions, it elevates your energy to a high frequency, attracting more positive feeling

22. Change Your Story: The stories we tell ourselves shape our lives greatly. Often, we hold onto untrue beliefs like "I lack money" or "I'm not capable," which blinds us to the many possibilities and chances around us. To reshape your life, begin by realizing that you are the author of your life. When you decide to draft a better script, your life becomes more meaningful. To let go of old narratives, first, be aware of them. If there's something you want to do but haven't, ask why. What's stopping you? Every story you tell serves a purpose, whether it's healthy or not. For instance, if you believe you're depressed, you might avoid exerting yourself and receive attention. We often prioritize the benefits of our stories over our actual desires. Comfort becomes more important than seizing control of our lives.

Once you identify old stories and their hidden gains, compose fresh, empowering narratives. To make these new stories your reality, focus on them. Embrace the happiness and excitement they bring. Use them as affirmations, repeating them until they replace the old tales entirely.

Self love can lead to you to big personal transformations.

You'll treat yourself with greater compassion and understanding. Your self-support and ability to forgive will bring a sense of calmness. Embracing self love enables you to truly live and embrace each moment. Through it, you'll have more love to give to others, improving your relationships. You become the architect of your own happiness.

#self love journey #self love #self development #self improvement #self care #self worth #self help #self esteem #love yourself first #personal improvement #personal development

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fearandhatred · 1 year ago

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okay so i don't usually write final fifteen metas (anymore, at least) but i feel like i have to say this. wrote this really quick so it might not be all that coherent

with the final fifteen, the problem really isn't as much about miscommunication as it is a complete difference in beliefs. yes, there is and has been miscommunication for 6000 years, but some people focus on this way too much -- even if there hadn't been any, it would likely have ended the same way, with aziraphale going back to heaven and crowley staying. their miscommunication is a longstanding problem that they have to fix, but this difference in beliefs is the main problem of the final fifteen in particular. i don't think i really have to explain this, so i'll focus on the miscommunication aspect.

sure, i have my own gripes about the whole "hold that thought" situation. but when we look at just the miscommunication ('miscommunication'), the words themselves that were said, i don't think it's right to blame one of them more than the other for it.

i saw someone say that crowley didn't say things in a way that aziraphale would understand. personally, i don't see how "when heaven ends all life on earth, it would be just as dead as if hell ended it" and "we don't need heaven, we don't need hell, they're toxic" could have been said any clearer. sure, an elaboration could have gotten it into aziraphale's head maybe, but both of them had been through the same thing. crowley's statements were based on their shared experiences of armageddon and then gabriel. they were objectively clear, and i don't think the onus is necessarily on him to formulate them in a way that one specific person would understand. effective communication means meeting in the middle.

aziraphale is slightly less clear with this main purpose of going back to heaven here imo, and i have written a meta about all the different reasonings he goes through (i don't necessarily agree with the overall point of that meta anymore but the main idea is there). but at the same time, "i can make a difference" "i'll run it, you can be my second in command"... it's very obvious what he's trying to say. even the things that aren't objectively true or not what crowley wants to hear -- "[heaven is] the side of truth, of light, of good" etc. -- this isn't miscommunication. it's a very clear expression of his beliefs.

honestly the only true miscommunication that happened in this exchange was the "you can't leave this bookshop" "nothing lasts forever" shit. and even that is secondary to everything else that was said.

yeah their conversation could have been laid out, explained, elaborated, et cetera. the ideal scenario would be that this happens and they figure out a compromise, a better plan to work together to take heaven down or whatever. but this is an ideal that they have not reached (which is why i think this is good for them, honestly. the best way to change a mindset is through experience). and at the same time, you can't blame them for not being this ideal, especially in this moment, when both of them had just received big revelations after going through yet another insane experience.

tldr: final fifteen is much less about miscommunication than it is about a fundamental difference in beliefs

#fearandhatred #fearandmeta #good omens #good omens season 2 #final fifteen #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta

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pinksmonkey · 1 year ago

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Bylers Are Quite Literate

A Reddit post I made discussing Bylers and media literacy.

Unfortunately my post was removed for being reported too much, even though it wasn't against the rules in any way. I messaged the mods, but I don't know if it'll be put back up, so here's what it said:

I just want to make clear that I mean no hate to Milevens or people who don't ship Byler, I completely respect that people can ship whatever they want and I hope I would receive that same respect in return. There are lots of very smart people who don't ship Byler, and there are lots of smart Milevens. I just want to bring attention to the fact that believing in Byler is not delusional, ridiculous, stupid, or the many other things we're called. Many Bylers are very literate, probably not all of them, but lots.

A lot of Bylers actually have great media literacy, many are film students, writers themselves, or do media analyses often.

This post will specifically be about Mike's monologue to El in S4.

One of my all time favourite analyses (and the best) of the monologue is "'Prove it' I Beg You Read This." by oceanfruit444 on Tumblr.

Unfortunately the post is no longer available because the account which made it was deactivated, but I took screenshots before and will copy and paste the text here:

So, the Duffer Brothers write very complex and, usually, well done characters. They give us a trait or statement and then they prove it. As a writer, you can never just have a character say "I'm lying right now' to the screen, that would be...ridiculous Imao.

"I wrote a post not to long ago about my writing process, or the writing process in general. One of the things I spoke on was the concept of 'proving it'. I want to talk a little more about that and how that applies to one Michael Wheeler.

Of course, we see the scene in season 4 where Will Is giving Mike his painting and using it to help mend Mike and El's relationship. We see it continuously, even though we know he's in love with Mike, Will coaches him through his problems, gives him advice, etc. We see it in season 2 as well just with Joyce mentioning Will giving away his toy to another little girl who looked sad. That was kind of the time they stated this trait Will had, and then continued to prove it for the next two seasons. So when we say Will is selfless, we have evidence to back up that claim.

With proving it, that is your job as a writer. It works with situations, but mostly comes into play with characters. For example: you give your audience a trait, Will is selfless. How does he prove that and how do other characters give us clues of this trait?

Now discussing scenes with 'proving it', season 4 is very interesting because it's not as subtle as we may think it is. In the van, we see Mike recalling the first time he saw El and explaining that moment.

"It was dumb luck, not fate."

Then we go to his confession, "I knew since the moment I saw you that I loved you."

That moment felt cringy, but also, there has been no proof for this. There's actually proof combating his claim. That whole monologue was Mike looking into the camera and saying "I'm lying right now." The writers of this show are aware of that, because they continuously make sure to prove things, because that's how you create deep moments and detailed characters. If you have a character just spew things out without depth behind their words, it's not going to create a furthering and complex relationship. I mean, it's not even in writing, if your partner said, "I love you" and then proceeded to, metaphorically, spit in your face, you wouldn't believe that because you know it's not true.

Throughout season 4, Mike can't say I love you to El, he gaslights her, he calls her superman and that meeting her was an accident. He doesn't prove anything that is said in the monologue, and the writers know that, they want people to pick up on it.

'I'm not scared of you'

Mike proves the opposite of that in rink-o-mania. He was scared of her, and El proves that to us by saying you think I'm a monster too.

'My life started the day I met you.'

That just doesn't make sense because he literally tries to jump off a cliff. Apparently his life didn't need to last more than a day.

The love confession, from a writer's stance, cannot be evidence for a solidified relationship. Mike and El had not been together since their big fight. So, as we know. the feelings Mike was responding to weren't El's, they were Will's.

So then you get into another conversation of, was the love confession for El in the first place? Because in both Will's and Mike's confessions, El is the center of it, the middle piece. The writers could be trying to tell us many different things with that. They both give confessions, so are they attempting to allude to the fact that Mike and Will are both doing the same thing?

People are desperate for answers, it's a worldwide trait, so we ask many questions and we are supposed to when it comes to consuming media or any kind of storytelling. Why does he love her? Wait that doesn't make sense, why didn't he just say it in the first place? Why didn't he say it when El was begging him to? Why does he feel like it's a fight they can't come back from if all he has to say is 'I love you'? If he loved her, it should have been easy right? Why did I just waste hours of my life for a plot point that doesn't make sense? Mike said he loved El already, we've already been through this same exact plot, so why is it happening again?

So, what I'm saying is Mike is disproving his points by previous actions. The monologue feels off because as watchers we are subconsciously or, some of us, consciously aware that we were not given evidence for what the character is saying. And we don't like that.

And then, when we get verbal answers, they don't line up or make any sense.

Why? Why? Why?

So, what bylers have right is that Mike is a fake thing (character), he doesn't just get to vibe in his own head and hang out. He has to prove things to us, if he wants to say I love you? Prove it with details we can back up. You want to tell us you love El on her bad days? You're lying to us now because we saw that point disproven.

These characters have very specific jobs and arcs, they're doing things for a bigger reason, not just...cause. I don't think that's easy for many people to grasp onto. So questions writers ask themselves when there's a scene is, what does this scene mean to each character involved, and how can we make that sub textually known?" "Who is this scene for? and how will it farther their arcs'

So, what does the love monologue mean for El? And how will it farther her arc or finish part of her arc? As we know, she wanted Mike to say I love you, Mike needed to say it for that plot point to finally close. But what is the after math.

Now, what *can* Mike's monologue hold truth to? A lot of what he's saying can be backed up if he's speaking to a different person.

Will.

I loved you since the moment I saw you. We can back that up from evidence, Mike made the choice to walk up to Will on the swing sets and ask to be his friend. Little Mike knew that he wanted Will in his life and that he was something special. So we have a check mark there. It was a choice, loving someone will always, somewhat, be a choice.

I'm not scared of you, I never have been. We can back that up as well. Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer and Mike stayed right by Will's side, walking into that shed with a boy that had sent many people to their death. He stayed next to Will's side, alone, when he knew he could be dangerous or even had no idea what he was capable of.

I love you on your good and bad days. Once again, we see that proven. In season 3 Will yells at Mike, is upset and they fight. What Mike does is very important, he goes after Will because no matter what Will said that might have hurt or how distressed Will seemed to be, he still went after him, because he cared about him. In season 2 when they leave Halloween we see it again, Will was having a bad day and Mike sat right there with him, making him feel better.

I love you. I mean, Mike has proven that over and over again. Now, that could be used for both of them, but the interesting point in season 4 is the big discussion on his issue with saying 'I love you' to El. So, something isn't lining up. Again, from a writers POV, Mike doesn't get to say that to El because you are not allowed to expect your watchers to come up with proven points to that on their own. We have to look at the context of that line and find it IN THE SAME SEASON AND PLOT LINE.

I love you. How does Mike prove that to us in season 4? And if you do not have textual evidence as well as actions to back it up, then you're not supposed to have those things. Your job as a reader or watcher is not to do the work for yourself, the writers will tell you all you need to know, if you can't find it, then they're telling you everything you need to know.

Who does that apply to? Will.

I thought that saying it might make it hurt more. This is disproven by Mike's actions with El, he begins to lose her because he isn't saying I love you. So why would him telling her 'I love you' make her leaving hurt more if she didn't plan on leaving until you didn't day it? Lie lie lie. That is thrown in our faces time and time again. He wasn't losing El until he was unable to tell her or write he loves her.

I don't know, I feel like I lost you or something. Mike says the word 'lost twice in season 4 to two different people, or was it two different people?

Mike isn't afraid of losing El, he's afraid of losing Will, and we have evidence of that because he said those exact words. As I said moments ago, the writers will directly tell you things to allow you to prove spoken points made. If you CANNOT back up a claim, they don't want you to.

If something is mentioned or talked about, it's not on accident or to fill up time, it's because it's important. Mike telling Will he felt like he lost him and giving us evidence as to why he may feel that way and then turning around to say it to El doesn't make sense. It's not supposed to make sense because the writers are trying to get us to use our little brains to piece things together.

For a moment I'll talk about the fanfic I'm working on. We see Jane and Mike kiss for a dare in chapter sixteen (I think) and I discuss the placement of his hands, how they both, and what they do. Then in chapter eighteen I discuss Mike's hands again and their placement with detail when he's holding onto Will. Why do I do that? Because I am trying to tell readers there is a contrast to those actions Mike is making. I'm telling people the person he wants and is picking without giving his POV through tiny actions. So what I'm saying is that I can promise the writers of this show are doing just as tiny things.

So my point here is, characters don't get to just say things, they have to be proven and have logical standing or they should be taken as lies. Writing is a system and characters words and lines are thought out. Nothing humans or characters say is meant to be surface level. Not really.

The way dialogue works, is there has to be underlining meaning or message to each thing a character says. So, if you give two different characters the same exact line, they're going to be performed differently because the intention behind the words will be different. Does that make sense?

I love you. Okay prove it to me or you're lying.

I'm not scared of you. Okay prove it to me or you're lying.

As I said before, a writer's job is to give an audience something and then make the character prove it. If they don't do that, then watchers are able, or should be able, to piece together that something is wrong or a character is not being truthful.

Once again, no character will EVER look at the camera and say 'I'm about to lie' we have to piece that together. You know why? Because these stories are perfectly crafted and very much fake. We're not watching reality TV, we're watching a multi million dollar show.

So, I urge everyone to watch this show and think about this 'prove it' mentality and how well the duffers usually do it. If writers want us to believe their characters, then they must prove the points we are seeing or hearing. We never have to give them the benefit of the doubt because they don't want us to.

Mike, Will, El, every character is a puppet on a string being danced around the stage by the writers."

queerest-friend added, "This also relates to the fact that we got virtually no flashbacks during Mike's confession except for one image of El in the Benny's Burgers shirt. Even the camera couldn't help "prove" anything Mike was saying."

This is just one example of the many in-depth analyses Bylers have made about the show. We take into consideration every detail, the set design, costumes, lighting, blocking, dialogue, facial expressions, body language, and more which the creators of the show have pointed out are important and have meaning. Mike is an undeniably queercoded character, because of all of his actions in the show and the clues surrounding him. He's more queercoded than Will was in a lot of ways, and he's more queercoded than Robin. If we were right about all the evidence for Will being gay, and the same types of evidence are being used for Mike, why would one be true and not the other?

That's all, let me know your thoughts in the comments. :)

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