#ignored and sometimes outraged by this fandom yet i’m always right

[satorugojowidow]

I'm so proud to have carried the jin and kaori and kenny agenda all these years. History have judge me right

[kimiko-dear]

Demoncest? Really?

The Obey Me fandom has some pretty weird ideas. Sometimes I can dismissively wave my hand and ignore it because I know that when you’re young you can have some pretty offbeat ideas that you’re absolutely sure about because you don’t have enough life experience and/or weren’t paying close attention. Heck, I’m 62 and I still have those, but at least I’ve reached the point where if someone explains why I was wrong, I can feel stupid, apologize, and stop thinking/saying the stupid things from then on. Most of the time. I hope.

But, come on. The boys are brothers in name only. Brothers by choice. Brothers in arms. And fanfic writers who want to ship any of the characters together are welcome to do so. I don’t see it myself, so I don’t write it, but I’ve seen some authors do it, and do it so well that it seems perfectly believable, even for me. I like that they can take aspects of the characters and expand upon them in a way that may not be game canon, but *could* be. 

A lot of this anti-demoncest stuff ignores not only the fact that the demons aren’t really brothers, not even related (except maybe Lucifer and Satan, but putting those two together as a romantic pair seems like an exercise in self-flagellation to me,) but that the game itself has Asmo coming on to his own brothers, Solomon, Barbatos, and even Diavolo. Yeah, that’s Asmo, avatar of lust - you should be concerned more if he *doesn’t* do this.

Of course, he’s also crazy about mc, and most of the mcs are female, plus there’s “Popular With The Ladies,” so you know he’s not defined by some limited gender role. (I don’t like him being portrayed as gay, or the gay best friend, either, because I believe the only thing that limits his pursuits is consent. That demon is pansexual as anything.) But right from the beginning, the first thing he wanted to do when he and Beel accidentally switched bodies in Season 1 was get naked and do some exploring. I still laugh to myself every time I think of him telling Lucifer he looked so good he could climb him like a mast in the Cruise event. Barbatos reprimanded him for getting too handsy right on the dance floor. He never stops asking, but he always stops when asked to stop.

The devs put these Asmo moments throughout the game, so I think we’re *supposed* to think about the characters having physical or emotional relationships with others besides mc. (How many humans could live for thousands of years and never have even a crush or go out on a date? Get real!) At the same time, Asmo gets turned down every time, sometimes gently, sometimes dismissively, but never aggressively. Everyone knows that he takes no for an answer.

So as a player, or a writer, you can take this and imagine that there’s other stuff we haven’t seen. We hear about succubi and witches and obviously female demons exist, but until 13, who’s so far most assuredly not interested in any of the other characters, It’s a bunch of guys who’ve been together for millennia. Did they experiment? Try things out to ease some tension? Maybe, maybe not. That’s entirely up to your imagination.

What we *do* know is that *if* it happened, they were consenting adults at the time, and even the twins aren’t blood related, because none of them were born the way humans are. So if you want to think about or write about “demoncest,” go ahead. Anyone who responds with moral outrage or calls for a dogpile for others to assault you with their moral outrage should be ignored - or, better yet, blocked. They’re upset about a situation that doesn’t exist, and you don’t need that kind of ignorance in your life.

[imthebadguyyy]

maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

-------

A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

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[peanut-in-the-goal]

could u write something like remus is out running errands or something and he gets recognized by an nhl fan who’s homophobic and shitty and he goes home and sirius comforts him and it’s cute and fluffy

I KIND OF WENT ON A RANT IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS IM SO SORRY

ALSO I LOST SPEAKING PRIVILEGES WITH @kielemarie because of this. IM SORRY MARIE PLEASE ANSWER MY ASKS

@candy--floss--kid you asked to be tagged when i finished so here ya go

@lumosinlove thank you for this fandom that is sweater weather

also here’s the last thing I wrote because I'm proud of it please I thrive on validation

---

Remus was walking down one of the aisles in the store, looking for a baking mix. He figured that he’d finally take up the challenge of teaching Sirius how to bake. 

He found a simple recipe. Yellow cupcake mix, how could he mess it up? Remus thought to himself. He placed it in the cart before he felt someone forcefully slam into his shoulder. 

He stumbled, his hand immediately going to his scar from Grayback. He looked up slowly, dreading who he might see. 

His eyes locked with the dark green ones in front of him. The tall man’s eyes matched the Slytherin Jersey he wore. Riddle was in bold letters on the back. Which was bad, but not the worst thing that could have happened.

He allowed himself to breathe, it’s not Fenrir, he let the relief of it wash over him. 

“Sorry,” Remus said. He knew it wasn’t his fault but didn’t want to start any drama or conflict when there was no need for it. Especially with a Snakes fan,

He tried to just walk away. He had everything he needed for just a lazy day at home, but the man stepped in front of him. 

Remus looked up confused. Leo has told him about Karen’s doing this sort of stuff. Something that Gen Z came up with or whatever, but he wasn’t sure if he entirely grasped the concept. Suddenly the man started laughing. A deep menacing, laugh that had no humor behind it. 

His eyes were hard as he stared at Remus. 

“It’s not right you know.” He said. His voice was deep and loud, everyone else in the aisle turning to look. “You’re just a bunch of sinners.”

Remus realized what he was referring to in a heartbeat. He was taken aback at first, he knew people felt this way but he had yet to have anyone come and say it to his face so plainly.

He took a step back moving the cart to go around the man, “Excuse me,” he gritted out. He started pushing the cart before a hand reached out and grabbed it.

Remus raked a hand through his hair, sighing he looked up at the man. The green-eyed man was smirking at him, holding onto the front of the cart. The letters stood out in the harsh lighting of the store, glimmering every time he moved.

ALWAYS, PURE, HOCKEY.

The words were printed underneath the symbol, the green snake. It made him sick, he felt bad for all the people who were drafted to that team, stuck without a chance of escaping on their own.

The queasiness in his stomach turned into anger. He used that.

“Was there something you wanted?” Remus asked, generally annoyed now. 

“I want you to know that it’s not fucking right.” The man stepped closer, Remus stayed where he was. 

“Noted, now if you don’t mind I think I’m going to go home to my boyfriend.”

One of the people next to him snorted and tried to hide their laughter at the affronted look on the green-eyed man's face. 

“How can you even look at yourself in the mirror?” The man sniped. 

“Easily, knowing that a homophobic git who can’t keep their nose in their own business isn’t looking back.”

More people laughed, Remus smirked. The man seemed to be getting angrier and angrier, which was just fine. 

“You’re broken.” The man pursed his lips.

“How original.”

Remus pushes the cart again, managing to make the man dislodge his fingers. He started towards the checkout, wanting to get out of there as soon as he could. 

It wasn’t his first time he heard these things. That was all he heard when he was in the media and the pictures had just come out. But Sirius had suffered through most of the face to face stuff, while Remus saw all of it online.

It didn’t make the impact of the words any easier.

It disgusted him that people still thought this way, that they didn’t like that he was able to find love with someone that wasn’t accepted. So what, oh no, they have the same genitals, obviously, it isn’t right. Fuck them for thinking that, honestly. 

It’s sad that they’re so limited to that type of mindset. Where only one thing is right and everything else is wrong in their eyes.

He huffed, walking down the aisle with his head held high. 

Stand your ground, don’t let him win. You got this.

The man followed him, yelling slurs from where he was trailing behind him. 

Don’t let him see, it’s okay. Just a little longer than you can go home to Sirius and everything will be alright.

He finally makes it to the front of the store, but of course, there’s a line. He stands waiting for self check out, it’s the shortest.

“It’s disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting.” Remus didn’t even raise his head to look at the idiot.

Just ignore it, don’t give him the time of day. Keep your head up.

“How am I disgusting?”

“You’re limiting people to only live by your standards and your viewpoints on what’s normal rather than letting them be happy and live how they want. It’s gross really, that you’re so closed-minded about these things for fucks sake.“

“I’m saying what’s right!” The man spluttered.

“How is it right? How is any of that right?” Remus snapped his head up to look at him, his eyes were hard. “You’re telling me that I’m not allowed to live my life or be happy because it doesn’t see fit to you?” He shook his head in outrage.

The man opened his mouth to speak but Reus didn’t let him.

“Ever hear of John Locke. Our three natural rights that we’re all born with? One of them being the Pursuit of Happiness. I’m not hurting you am I? Me happening to like other men does not affect you, it affects me. It makes me happy and you’re really going to come out here and fucking tell me that I’m not allowed to be happy?”

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

The man was at a loss for words, scrambling to grab onto anything to say but he couldn’t.

“It’s still not right.” He said gruffly.

“Yeah, you said that already.”

The man glared at him before huffing and walking away. Remus sighed in relief. 

He walked up to the check out that had just opened, swiping his items before getting a bag and rushing out of the store. 

Some people smiled at him in encouragement, but he was so drained and just wanted to be home at the moment.

He threw the bag in the passenger seat, climbing into the car to drive. He sat there for a minute.

In for four, hold for six, out for eight. Repeat. It’s okay.

He shuffled his playlist, smiling softly and humming along to the tune of Free Fallin by Tom Petty. He was definitely free falling when he fell in love with Sirius.

The drive home was short, luckily they lived close by.

He pulled up into the driveway and quickly scrambled out of the car. His chest felt tight and there was a lump forming in his throat. He jiggled the key in the lock, difficult because of how shaky his hands were.

Finally, he heard a soft click and stepped inside.

“Baby?” Remus called through the house, his voice cracked slightly. He could hear the dull noise of the TV in the other room, then some shuffling, before Sirius’ goofy grin popped around the corner. Slowly, it morphed to one of concern.

“Re?” Sirius took in his red face, and trembling lips, before pulling him into a hug. Remus sagged against him, letting Sirius support his weight and dropping his head against his shoulder.

“Vas tu bien, mon Loup?” Remus nodded his head slowly against Sirius’ neck because though he might not actually be okay, he felt safe in Sirius’ arms. He held on tighter when Sirius went to let go.

“Mon loup? What’s wrong?” Sirius asked. He pulled back just enough to be able to look at his face. 

Remus stuttered for a moment.”There uh…” Sirius rubbed his side soothingly. “There was this idiot at the store, h-he said it wasn’t right?” His voice came out as a question. He bit his lip hard against the tears welling up.

God, why did he feel like crying? It’s not like he hasn’t heard all of this before because he has. But having someone saying it to his face like that in the middle of a store where he’d never had problems before was like a punch in the gut. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

Was he going to get stopped on the streets or in the stores and restaurants just because he was gay? Because he chose love over being what everyone else wanted him to be?

As long as he got Sirius it would be worth it in the end. It had to be.

“Wasn’t right?” Sirius furrowed his brow. “Oh.” The realization dawned on his face.

“No, no, Remus, non.  He’s wrong, He—”

“I know.” Remus looked at him. “I know. Just… Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Are people always going to look at us like we’re different j-just because we love each other?”

Sirius made a sad almost whine like noise. “I’m sorry Re…”

Remus sighed, dropping his forehead to rest against Sirius’s shoulder again. “At least I have you.” His words were muffled but Sirius still understood.

He smiled softly at his boyfriend. “I could say the same thing. Come on.”

Sirius led Remus back to their living room, the TV playing some cooking show that started when Sirius’ had ended. Sirius sat on the couch, pulling Remus to lay down with him.

“Has it always been this bad for you?” Remus murmured, his eyes were already shut. He cuddled further into Sirius.

“I guess. I don’t know, I stopped listening to that stuff, they’re all wrong anyway.” He grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the couch and draped it over them both.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” Sirius pressed a kiss to the top of Remus’ hairs.

“I love you too,” but Remus was already softly snoring away.

---

Remus’s eyes fluttered open sometime later. He was curled on the couch with Sirius. It was dark outside, the stars shining through the leaves of the tree that stood outside their window.

He shifted to rub at his eyes, yawning.

“You’re cute.” 

Remus snorted. “I just woke up.”

“You’re still cute.” Sirius laughed softly, brushing some stray strands of hair from Remus’ face.

Remus yawned again. “What time is it?”

Sirius grabbed his attention phone from where it was laying next to him. “7:30, you’ve been asleep for a while.”

Remus huffed, sitting up all the way. 

“I was going to teach you how to bake a cake,” he pouted. 

“I know how to bake a cake!” Sirius exasperated, “I also stand by my statement of you’re cute.”

Remus huffed out a laugh.  He stood up, “I’m sure you do.”

“I do! Celeste taught me.”

“She taught you or she tried to teach you, there’s a difference.” Remus raised his eyebrow,

“Fine, she tried.” 

“Then I will conquer the impossible.” He said it boldly, standing up at the same time, making them both laugh. 

“I’m not impossible.” 

“Teaching you is,” Remus smirked, tugging Sirius’ hand to make him get off the couch.

He felt so much lighter now. Being around Sirius tended to have that effect on him. He made him forget what he was worried about, and made him feel safe and loved. The man from the store was still in the back of his mind nagging at him but at this moment that didn’t matter. Nothing matters except the two of them. And wasn’t that wonderful?

“I am not impossible to teach,” Sirius whined. Remus laughed, walking into the kitchen.

“Yes, you are baby,” Remus shook his head fondly, looking for the bag from the shop. He didn’t see it. “I think I left the stuff in the car, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll get it!” Sirius grabbed the keys before Remus could, a dopey grin on his face.

“Must everything be a competition?” There was no bite behind his words, watching Sirius fling the door open. The cold air from outside drifted into the heated house, Remus shivered.

The door shut and Sirius was back in front of him, bag in hand.

“Ready to show you that I can learn!”

“Did you lock the door?” Sirius hesitated for a moment. Remus had to bite back a laugh, “I’ll go lock it,” he pressed a kiss to Sirius’ cheek.

“Now we’re ready,” He pressed a kiss to Sirius’ cold nose this time.

He took out what he bought, vanilla extract, a boxes of cake mix, sugar, and sprinkles.

“Okay so…” He held one of the boxes, reading the recipe on the back. “Can you preheat the oven to 350 degrees, baby?” He asked. Sirius looked at him before walking over to the oven. “Or, do you want me to do it?” 

“I can do it.” Remus laughed.

“Sorry.” Sirius batted Remus’s hands away. “Okay, what’s next?”

“Uh, we have to make the batter. Can you get the eggs out please?”

“Mhm,” he got the eggs from the refrigerator, placing them gently on the island. 

“Alright wait, we need 3 eggs, ½ a cup of oil, a cup of water, and this.” He held up the mix for emphasis. 

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” he smiled at Sirius. He owed one heck of a lot to that idiot. His idiot.

“Easy,” Sirius dragged out his words and laughed.

“See you say that now, but something has to go wrong I swear.”

Sirius grumbled as he went to crack the eggs into the bowl for the electric mixer. Remus laughed again, going back to reading the instructions, making sure that they were doing it right.

“Oops.” Remus snapped his head up.

“Oops? What do you mean oops?” He leaned over to look at the bowl. Half an eggshell laid on its side in a bowl, on top of the already broken up egg.

“Told you something would go wrong,” Remus laughed, carefully picking it out to throw away.

They worked on making the batter, Remus telling Sirius what to do. Finally, everything was in the bowl and they just had to mix it.

“Okay, you can turn on the — hey wait!” 

Sirius pulled the little switch on the side of the mixer. All the way.

 “No! Sius don’t.” But it was too late, the powder from the cake mix flew everywhere. Finally Remus was able to hit the switch back, turning it off.

They looked around, but the mix had covered the counter tops and ground in a sheet of what looked like dust. 

A startled laugh came from him, Sirius following right after. Their shoulders shook with mirth.

“Well that was a bust.”

“And we still haven’t even started on the frosting yet.”

[snowdice]

One More Dance (Part 11 of the Series “Is There Anything Left of Patton?”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, Virgil & Patton, Logan & Virgil, Roman & Patton

Characters: Patton, Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remy

Summary: Logan and Virgil try to keep better track of their zombie roommate now that they know he can open doors. It doesn’t work.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Patton is a zombie

This is the eleventh part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton?

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

“Food You’ll Never Eat”

“Things You’ll Never Do”

“There Are Things That Are Lost”

“There Are Things That Are Missing”

“And There is a Question”

“Is There Anything Left of Patton?”

“And There is an Answer”

“But What Does It Mean”

My Master Post

In the weeks that followed the macaroni revelation, Logan and Virgil kept a closer eye on the zombie in their home. They intended to keep him upstairs all the time, but a problem with this goal quickly arose. That is, Patton did not want to be upstairs all the time. Logan had even tried keeping him on his leash, but it quickly became apparent that, while Patton certainly hadn’t been able to get off the leash before, he very much could now. Logan had gone to sleep with him tied to a chair one night and had woken up with him in their bed, the leash still tied to the chair, but no longer attached to Patton.

For a while, he and Virgil traded off on watching Patton duty, but they quickly became exhausted and it seemed the moment they took their eyes off him, he was down the stairs to hold staring contests with Roman and Remy. They eventually gave up and let him do what he wanted. Apparently, he wanted to have not-quite conversations with Roman which always managed to make Logan’s blood pressure spike, but Roman would just chatter away while Patton stood there not reacting. Somehow, Roman never suspected anything was amiss and Logan eventually forced himself to relax about it and did his best to get on with life.

It was about a month after Roman and Remy first arrived. Patton was upstairs as it was still early morning and he’d been asleep when Logan had woken, and Logan was watching and silently judging Virgil as he started ripping up the couch once again. “Ugh, where is it?” Virgil asked.

Logan sighed heavily. “Did you honestly lose your hoodie again?” he asked.

“I swear! I swear I put it on the couch last night. Seriously, I didn’t touch it afterwards.”

“And yet, the fact that it isn’t there indicates otherwise.”

Virgil glared at him with a couch cushion in his hands. “You know, you’re kind of a dick sometimes.”

“What’s going on?” Remy asked, chewing on a hunk of bread as he exited the kitchen.

“You know you’re a monster, right?” Roman spoke up from where he was currently laying on the floor on the other side of the room. “There’s jam and honey in the kitchen. Why would you choose to eat plain bread? You didn’t even toast it.”

Remy just rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

“I lost my hoodie,” Virgil said. “Have you seen it?”

“Mmm, nope,” Remy replied, before stuffing the rest of the bread into his mouth. “But I lost my sweatshirt too so tell me if you find mine while you’re looking.”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full,” Logan said, his face screwed up with his displeasure.

“Wait,” Virgil said. “Your sweatshirt’s gone too? When did that happen?”

Remy swallowed his food and shrugged. “I left it on the armchair last night and it was gone in the morning.”

“Weird,” Virgil said. “I left my hoodie on the couch last night and it was gone in the morning.”

“Ask Patton,” Roman suggested. “I heard him up and about last night again. Maybe he grabbed them.”

“No,” Logan replied, “That’s…” Ridiculous is what he’d been about to say, but then he paused and locked eyes with Virgil. Logan thought for a long moment. “Laundry,” he said softly.

“What?” Virgil asked.

“There was half folded laundry in the living room and blood in the kitchen,” he said distantly.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. “Hey, Logan, wait, what are you talking about?” Logan ignored Virgil in favor of continuing down the hall past the steps into a room he hadn’t used since before the outbreak. He heard Virgil and the others follow him and gather near the door to the small laundry room. He flipped open the lid to the washing machine and reached inside. “Is this the sweatshirt you were looking for?” he asked Remy.

Remy took it from him. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Why was it in there?”

“Laundry and cooking,” Logan said in response. “He was… I believe Patton may have… gotten confused and was performing chores as he would before the outbreak.”

“Oh…” Remy replied.

Logan turned back to the washing machine and pulled out a different article of clothing before holding it out to Virgil. Virgil blinked and then snatched it away, his mouth open in surprise and possibly a small amount of outrage. “Apologize to me,” he demanded.

“…There is no way that I could have known.”

“Apologize!”

Logan pursed his lips. “I apologize.”

“Heck yeah, you apologize,” Virgil said. Then he blinked down at his hoodie. “H-how long has this been going on?”

It was a good question and, while Logan wasn’t sure of the exact date, it quickly became clear that the answer was a while.

There were small things he hadn’t noticed until he looked for them: doors in different positions then they were left, clothing moved about in drawers, the faces of the stuffed animals in the closet sometimes in different places.

Yet the most notable thing was when he’d come downstairs almost 3 months after Roman and Remy showed up to see a bucket in the corner of the living room by the armchair. “I think Patton got a bit confused again last night,” Roman explained when he asked. “I saw him pouring water in the corner, so I put a bucket there. That way it didn’t get anything wet.”

Logan cast his mind back through the months to when the water first started to appear. How much had he missed or looked over with Patton, he wondered. This, whatever it was, had been going on since last December at least as that’s when he’d first noticed the “leak.”

He had no idea what any of it meant.

God, it was really hot today, Virgil thought. Usually he didn’t like to have idle hands, even now, in the middle of July, he was always preparing for the winter, but today it was just too hot for working in any capacity and everyone else seemed to agree. Virgil was currently sprawled out across the couch, his feet over Patton’s lap, Logan was reading a book in the armchair and Remy was laying face down on the floor.

All day, Roman had been messing around with a guitar they’d found on a scavenging trip a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to have finally actually gotten it in tune and was singing some Disney song. Virgil was loath to admit it, but it was actually pretty nice just laying there listening even if, every so often, Patton would make some guttural humming sounds and shift around, trying to get to Roman and the noises he was making. Virgil always pushed down with his feet to keep him on the couch.

Roman finished the song and strummed idly for a few moments. Patton made more sounds in response. Suddenly, Roman snapped his fingers making Virgil jump and look over at him. “‘Here Comes the Sun!’” he exclaimed.

“What?” Virgil asked, squinting at him.

“That’s what he’s been humming all day!” Roman explained. “Ever since I sang ‘Yellow Submarine’! Do you like The Beatles, Patton?” Roman asked.

Virgil was 99% sure Roman was reading way too far into the sounds Patton had been making. Patton always made sounds when people around him were being noisy. Yet, before Virgil could even think of a way to respond, Roman was already on his knees in front of Patton and had started singing softly.

Virgil had to pause because, okay, yeah, maybe he could hear a bit of a resemblance to the noises Patton had been making recently. He watched as Patton reached for Roman like he reached for every moving thing that entered his vicinity, but Roman took it as something that it wasn’t and grabbed his wrist, yanking the man to his feet and almost topping Virgil off the couch.

Virgil panicked and tried to reach out to stop the disaster in progress, but he was too slow, and Patton was already being spun around the room in Roman’s arms as he continued to sing. He saw Logan jump to his feet as well, his book landing on the floor with a thump, but both of them paused when there was a laugh.

Patton was… giggling? Even Roman stopped spinning around to look at him in surprise. He continued to giggle for a few moments and then his face dropped, and his laughter turned to sobs.

“Oh god,” Roman said, horrified, stepping away from him with his hands raised. “I’m so sorry.”

Logan was across the room in an instant, pulling Patton into his arms as Patton full on started to wail.

“I’m sorry,” Roman repeated in a whisper.

“Don’t be,” Logan chocked, and Virgil knew why. It was because if there had been any doubts that there was something left of Patton alive in the form that had shambled around the house for the last couple of years, they were all wiped away the instant you looked at his face right now. Chin trembling and lips pulled taunt, he cried so hard he was shaking with it. Tears poured down his face and splattered on his hands still half raised from where Roman had been gripping them, and the way his breaths rasped was different than the sound of every rattling breath Virgil had ever heard from him. That was a person, 100%. And he knew what was happening at least in this moment. There was no doubt in Virgil’s mind.

“Hi Patton,” Logan said softly, his own tears quickly pooling in his eyes. He reached up to wipe away a few of the tears on Patton’s face. “It’s okay dear. Shh.” Patton reached for him, but not in the mindless way he always did. Instead of scraping against his cheeks again and again, he grabbed Logan’s face between his palms and pulled his head down, so their foreheads brushed together. “Oh, hello my love. Hello. Look at you!” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Patton’s eye and another to his cheek. Logan continued to murmur soft words and started to rock the man back and forth as both of them cried.

“Come on,” Virgil said to the other two who were starting at the scene in confusion. “We should probably give them some privacy.”

Remy pushed himself up to his feet and grabbed Roman’s wrist pulling him from the room into the kitchen.

They all stared at each other for a few minutes. “So…” Remy said. “Like, is he actually a zombie or what?”

Roman gave him a confused look.

“I honestly don’t even know anymore,” Virgil said.

Want to read more? The next part of the series is

One More Chance

[levyfiles]

I want to start a shyan blog but I’m so scared because I don’t know how Shane and Ryan actually feel about it which makes me nervoussssssss help

Ohhh boy, brace yourself, nonnyhunny. I’ve got some word vomit for ya

To start off with, I just want anyone and everyone who is currently new to navigating this terrain we call the internet to know one thing and that is this one very important concept. Embrace your own insignificance! The internet is a big place. I once read a post on here that encouraged new users to think of Tumblr itself like you’re walking into a Walmart. You’re not here to make friends and you’re not here to shop for everyone else; you’re filling your own cart with the things you need and like and if someone comes along and takes a long good look at the things in your cart and says, “WOAH there, eating trans fats is unhealthy for you! I never eat trans fats because of a big list of reasons! Stop buying trans fats!!” you’re gonna be both puzzled and annoyed because it’s your cart, your Walmart experience; why the hell do they care what you’re gonna get?

However! I get it, the internet is now comprised of six different websites/apps and if you’re on there, there is no way to avoid or curate a completely ideal sense that you’ve made a space that’s all your own. There are going to be people who disagree with you, people who decide they don’t like what you do, but ultimately, in the midst of all that, you’re going to find people who feel the same in whatever regard you express yourself and that’s why it’s important to just express yourself because otherwise you’re going to develop a lot of disingenuous connections with people who would likely try to ruin your life if you disagree with them on some subject or other.

Now with that whole disclaimer in mind, I also understand where you’re coming from. Putting myself in the shoes of someone just trying to participate in a new fandom where there is a lot of contention among the masses about the rights and wrongs of RPF and whether the concept fits in with a philosophical debate about human nature and the way we interact with each other, witness each other’s journeys. That’s simply it, however; it’s an ongoing debate and where philosophy and debate are concerned, I always hold the belief that an individual’s right to ground themselves and say “These are the principles I wish to abide by” is sacred and ultimately, no amount of anonymous hatred or shrieking messages of outrage is gonna change that until you yourself decide that the principle isn’t working for you personally. My principle is that it’s fiction; an AU to explore as valid and sweet to me as demon!Shane headcanons are, but moreso because I identify with queer love stories and friendships forged by strangely deep similarities and complementing souls. I also love personalities like theirs, love the idea of said friendship and what it would bring to a story about two human beings who meet by happenstance and end up building something world-changing together. Still, because I am just a writer and a consumer of media, that’s the nicest thing I can give myself, a fictional account of these things while witnessing the real version happen in parallel. I get to celebrate in the overlap of similarities the real world and my fictional account take and watch it inspire my friends and mutuals to build their own universes and it’s beautiful. 

With that point being made, I also understand the reason a lot of people are nervous about being open about shipping. The backlash from a bunch of strangers seems to take on a note that would make even the nicest person sound like a puritan about to hold some extravagant witch trials. Nothing more interesting than a person claiming to do good in the world using words like “exterminate” “cleanse” or my personal favourite “purge”. I’ve read rumours being spread about shippers that take on their own life especially because it’s human nature to let other people handle the research; it’s human nature to just take a believable narrative at face value. One rumour being that shippers of this fandom write stories where we kill off Shane and Ryan’s significant others. Myself and my friends who are avid readers of the ao3 tag know that that hasn’t been the case since 2016/17 and by all accounts, I have yet to find the fic where this happens (barring a tinsworth fic I’ve only heard about). Mind you, not many of us check out Wattpad but even there it’s more self-insert friendly with themes I can’t even stomach. 

Which leads me to the last point and the main reason you sent this ask, I’m assuming. Ryan and Shane’s personal thoughts on the issue. Now, it behooves me to supply screenshots and proof when I make a claim but let’s consider if instead from the perspective of two adult men who have operated online far longer than a lot of their audience. Given that I am the same age as Shane, I know what the internet used to look like and how far it’s come and RPF is not a brand new thing neither did it pop up out of nowhere when One Direction debuted. And just like fanfiction in and of itself had its pushback from media because of its demographic and absolutely because of its queer-leanings, RPF appears to get a lot of that same energy, but it’s not an inherently toxic past time. Much like any fandom activity, it can get bad because fandom is not a monolith; it’s a bunch of individuals enjoying a medium in the ways they have learned to. You’re gonna get some individuals who “do it wrong” and some who do it differently, but ultimately, just like the forums and the reddit threads Shane and Ryan trawl in their past time, there are circles you learn not to veer into and terms you learn to blacklist/block/mute. With that being an indication of where they’re coming from as internet creators, I am confident when I say that, as long as it’s not being mailed to them, linked or quoted at them, they don’t care. They would know something that gets popular on the internet summons a brand of transformative art and fiction but much like they tend to ignore thirst tweets in their mentions or the repetitive requests for the same things over and over. They’d see it and gloss right over it. Shane is the type who writes long essays on reddit addressing the things that bother him, Ryan is weird and vocal and an oversharer sometimes when it comes to things Shaniacs say to him (i.e. that Voice he did for the occasional Shaniac who approaches him). It’s just one of the incarnations of fandom that they choose not to engage with, which, good? Because it’s a fan-specific activity. Once in a while you get a creator who wants to interact with fanfiction and it goes sideways because not all stories are written for them, much like not all fanart is made with the mindset to share with them. 

It’s just a regular old fan interaction and community habit that builds bigger followings. 

All in all, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Unless you mean to be in their @’s all the time or link them on discord, or put any of your content in their hands, they are not going to see it. They don’t care. What they do care about is that you’re watching, that you support them and send them encouragement because they’re creating their own medium of content and a bigger following means more people get to see it and extract something positive from it.  

[itsclydebitches]

I will personally never understand why the "bird conversation" happened. Qrow basically shut it down, by (I may be wrong, but I'm pretty sure he did) saying they agreed to taking the ability. It feels like we're being told to take Raven at face value, despite other, more trustworthy charecters speaking to the contrary.

He did. Basic rundown of the conversation: Yang enters it pissed off, they learn all the revelations that the rest of the group got a few episodes back, Ozpin asks if this was “more or less what your mother told you,” Yang straight up ignores him and Weiss has to answer for her with, “for the most part.” This finally makes Yang angry enough to respond with “You forgot to tell everyone what you did to Qrow and my mother,” there are gasps and horrified looks from the group, but we get a shot of Qrow smiling and going “oh great”---he knows this secret isn’t a big deal but that convincing the others of that won’t be easy. 

Ozpin explains about the power while Yang pouts on the couch. Nora angrily accuses Ozpin of “messing with us” (even though you all took way stranger things at face value... like reincarnation...), Jaune crosses his arm and adds “What else is new?” Despite these explanations with no downsides mentioned, Yang is still furious: “Why would you do something like that? I mean, what is wrong with you?” 

She gets antagonistic enough that Qrow shuts her down and then explicitly states, “We made a choice. We wanted this.” 

Ozpin then looks to Qrow and asks permission---“May I?”---in order to explain further, detailing that he needed allies to search for Maidens and keep an eye on Salem’s movements. The question heavily implies what should already be obvious: this was Qrow’s secret to keep and tell. Why is everyone gunning for Ozpin when Qrow, the person with the actual ability, likewise made the choice to keep that from his family? These explanations segue into the reveal that Ozpin created the first four Maidens and he ends his speech by admitting that “it was never my intention to lie to you.” He and Qrow share a knowing look as he admits that he “plays things close to the chest” which honestly, to me, reads as two war-worn adults acknowledging that this shit is complicated. You keep secrets, you tell lies, you do what you need to in order to survive and keep others safe. Look at these youngsters who think that non-stop honesty is always the way to go. Or is in any way easy even when it should be done: 

Yang still looks pissed as hell despite thoroughly being proven wrong

and then makes her announcement that she’ll stay if Ruby stays, but no more secrets or half-truths. Ozpin agrees with “Understood.” 

Which, obviously, the fandom has used as the go-to moment to damn Ozpin. You promised not to lie and then you did! Which yeah, that isn’t great. He should have been honest here in his inability to promise such a thing. However, that’s not the only factor in all this. We also have the fact that “no more lies or half truths” does not equal “tell us every single detail about this war right now that includes your very personal and traumatic history.” We have the issue that Yang and many of the others (notably Jaune) were unwilling to judge Ozpin fairly from the get-go. They decided that he was guilty before the trail even began and, when faced with evidence that proved all their assumptions wrong, decided to ignore it rather than admitting they were wrong. You’re going to trust a group like that with world-altering secrets? And we finally have the issue that Yang herself clearly doesn’t believe in her own ultimatums. Or doesn’t think they should apply to her. Keeping Raven’s Maiden power a secret? Turning on Ironwood to spill the beans to Robyn and letting her escape? I don’t put must stock in a character’s outraged, “You kept secrets and lied?” when they’re keeping secrets and lying too. The group’s inability to make the jump from “Wow. Sometimes we do need to keep information close to the chest” to “Oh. I guess it makes sense then that Ozpin would do the same thing” is one of the things that still characterizes them as naive, hypocritical, and downright dangerous given the stakes. 

From a fandom perspective though, I’m not at all surprised that a completely unambiguous admission from Qrow---“We made a choice. We wanted this”---holds no weight. 1. Because he’s another adult that can’t be trusted (see: the group turning on him with their weapons in the snow) and 2. Because the concept of a “choice” apparently disappears whenever Ozpin is thrown into the mix. This is the same thing we’ve seen regarding Pyrrha, the claim that she couldn’t really make a choice. It was never a choice at all. She was manipulated/pressured/steered into being a Maiden so the choice is only a “choice.” Ozpin is still at fault. Now here’s Qrow, saying he made a choice, and fans tend to talk over that with, “No. You only thought you had a choice but I’m sure Ozpin did something off screen that puts him at fault” (see: Qrow saying straight out that Ozpin doesn’t know what happened to Summer and everyone jumping to, “No he definitely does and just lied to Qrow.” Ozpin’s off screen villainy is brought up with a shocking amount of frequency) The fandom takes headcanons and assumptions as fact, leading to an inability to attribute agency to anyone if Ozpin was at all involved in their choice. Ruby entering Beacon, Pyrrha deciding to take on the power, Qrow choosing to be a bird... all of it has been re-framed as Ozpin “forcing” them in one manner or another, which is not only untrue but a real disservice to all their characters. The only time Ozpin “forced” someone to do anything is when he forced Oscar to get involved in this fight, and that’s only “forcing” via unavoidable circumstances. Yeah, technically you could let the farm boy live out his life and just screw the rest of the world... but that would make you a villain via inaction. As someone who was given an actual uninformed choice via the God of Light, Ozpin does a great deal to make sure people know what they’re getting into. Checking at the very last second if Pyrrha is still willing to go through with this. Telling the group to leave now if they’re not wiling to help secure the relic. It’s just that he has to balance that transparency with the never ending risk of information falling into the wrong hands/someone else betraying him... which is no easy task. Do you look at the angry teenager who took her bandit mother’s words at face value and go, “Yes, now is a great time to tell them information that as of yet in no way affects them and would absolutely decimate their mental health at best and lead to them screwing me over at worst”? No. That’s stupid and dangerous and, based on how the group has reacted thus far, just going to make the whole situation that much worse. 

[love-fireflysong]

Day 6: Meeting

Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Ashley Brown, Josh Washington, Hannah Washington, Beth Washington Words: 1852 Rating: General Author’s Notes: Until Dawn babies time! And by babies, I mean like they’re like, 12 or so. Looking back, I think this is the first UD fanfiction I wanted to write, I’m pretty sure I came up with the rough plot for this one not long after I played the game for the first time back in 2016. So this is a 4 year old idea finally breaking free! And in keeping with the theme I’ve apparently been starting, I have also never read Murder on the Orient Express. Maybe one day I will actually have a side plot revolving around something I have actual experience with.

Ashley had always loved the library. And today didn’t change that thought, no sir it did not. And just like any other day she visited, she pushed open the door and breathed a sigh of relief at the air conditioned air that felt so jarring against the mid-afternoon heat of July’s summer at her back. Greeting Miss Jennings who was sitting at the check-out desk by the door, she walked further into the building, past the children’s section where they were doing a craft of some sort with Mr Harper. Cut pieces of construction paper and glue were scattered across the table, and the hands of little kids were eagerly reaching to try and beat the others from grabbing their favourite colors.

Further in she reached the stairs that would lead into the more sophisticated, at least in her opinion, reaches of the building. In its deeper depths, she would find the tables and desks set up for people studying and working on projects. Ashley couldn’t wait until the day she was old enough to have a reason to go downstairs, to be able to go down there everyday. She imagined that once down there, she would never want to leave the peace and solitude that the desks with it’s high privacy partitions would provide. Instead, she headed into the higher reaches of the building. Her hand grabbing onto the stair’s rails, feeling the chipping paint beneath her hand as it glided up the bar, already bracing herself for the wonder she knew would greet her upstairs.

Reaching the top floor, she felt the large smile come to to her face at the sight before her as it always did. Green eyes brightening as she took in the seemingly unending rows of shelves, packed so full of books that they threatened to spill out sometimes, and so tall and high that the tops almost brushed the ceiling. Ashley took a deep breathe through her nose and let it out in a happy exhale. As always, the room carried in it both the hint of paper and ink from the newer books recently added to the library’s extensive collection, but it was the overlying sweeter, muskier scent of books that had been here longer than she had been alive that felt like coming home.

She stepped in further, already knowing exactly where to go. Any other time, she would peruse each and every one of the shelves, fingers brushing across the well-worn and cracked spines of favorites and the unblemished spines of treasures yet to be discovered, wondering what adventures—what knowledge—she would find within its pages. But not today.  No, today Ashley Brown was on a mission. In fact, one could say that she was on a case: the case of the Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie. Eagerly, she rushed to the mystery/thriller side of the floor and gave a cry of victory when she managed to find the well-loved spine of the book, thankfully not needing a stepladder to reach it, and rushed towards her favorite chair in the corner. Finding it thankfully unoccupied, she sank down into it’s extremely worn and frayed depths.

Around her was silence, the only thing interrupting it was the occasional turning of pages and the shocked gasps when the two darker haired girls pouring over a book on the table nearby found something particularly exciting. It was the best kind of silence, the best kind of noise. Ashley let herself curl up deeper into the armchair and opened the book and began to read.

Finally. Finally. She was home.

ONE: AN IMPORTANT PASSENGER ON THE TAURUS EXPRESS

It was five o’clock on a winter’s morning in Syria. Alongside the platform at Aleppo stood the train grandly designated in railway guides as the Taurus Express. It consisted of—

“Hey.”

—a kitchen and dining car,—

“Hello?”

—a sleeping car and two local coaches.

“Hey!”

With an angry sigh, Ashley reluctantly lowered her book to glare at the boy sitting in the chair across from her with all the hatred her tiny twelve year-old body could muster. Only to have it flag in dulled surprise when she realized that she had in fact been glaring at his legs crossed over the back of the chair. His head was actually hanging upside down, dark hair hanging straight down, and a wide, cocky grin on his face.

“Yo.”

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Ashley returned his greeting with an extremely terse ‘Hi’ and continued reading.

By the step leading up into the sleeping car stood a young French lieutenant,resplendent in uniform, conversing—

“So, what are you in for?”

She wordlessly lifted her book higher and continued to read.

—conversing with a small, lean man, muffled up to the ears, of whom nothing was visible but a pink-tipped nose and the two points of an upturned curled moustache.

“I mean, what crime did you commit?”

Ashley wanted desperately to ignore the boy but somehow knew even now that it was a lost cause. So instead, she hesitantly lowered her book with a tired sigh. “Crime? What are you even talking about?”

Still upside down on the chair, the boy shrugged, the movement doing little to jostle the hands laced over his stomach. “You know, what you did in order for this to be your punishment.”

If he thought that this clarified the earlier question, the he was very wrong. It had only left her more confused then before. “Punishment? Are you talking about the library? Or the book?”

“I dunno, both I guess?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Wait. Are you saying that you’re here by choice?”

“Yes?”

“And reading by choice?”

“Yes?”

“Oh I can’t believe this.” With a grunt of effort, the boy pulled himself up so he could, very clumsily, maneuver his way on the chair so he was sitting in it properly. Now right side up, and the red in his face lessening as the blood in it returned to the rest of his body, Ashley was able to see that the boy was around her age, if not a year or two older. “You mean to tell me that you not only came here—for fun—but to read a book—for fun?”

“Well, yeah. What else would I rather be doing?”

He looked at her like she was insane, which she found to be very rude when they didn’t even know each other. “Oh, I don’t know, playing outside? Hanging out with friends? Playing video games? Pulling pranks? Cleaning your room? Literally anything else?”

Ashley bristled. “Why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here then just leave!” She pointed towards the stairs behind him. “The stairs are right there, no ones stopping you! So if you could go and let me get back to my book, I would really appreciate it.”

The boy snorted. “Would if I could, Red. But as I mentioned earlier, I’m currently being punished.” The boy stood up and walked behind Ashley to look down at her book and began to read aloud from the page she was open on. “’You have saved us mon cher—’” Ashley couldn’t help but wince at the worst approximation of a french accent that she had ever heard “—said the the General emotionally, his great white mustache trembling as he spoke. Wow. This is what you read for fun? This? It’s so boring.”

Ashley closed her book as she glared back up into the boys face. “What did I do exactly to deserve you bugging me like this?”

He snorted as he looked at her. “Don’t know what you did, but sure know what I did. Me and my best friend got caught pulling a prank on old man Zimmerman next door. He’s at home grounded, and I’m on baby-sitting duty for the foreseeable future.” He pointed with his thumb towards the two dark haired girls reading at the nearby table. 

One of the girls turned to speak. “Not our fault that you decided to play ding-dong-ditch with Chris.”

The other girl, this one wearing a pair of glasses, joined in. “Yeah Josh. And leave the poor girl alone. She would clearly much rather be reading then dealing with your sorry butt.”

The boy (Josh, Ashley reminded herself, not that she really cared though) turned to better respond to the girls, who she was able to identify as his sisters by the same dark hair and nose that they all shared. “Say’s you Hannah. I will have you know that she is probably vastly preferring my company to that musty old book she’s reading.”

“I’m really not. In fact, the quicker you shut up, the quicker I can get back to it.”

The look of outrage on his face was so comically over-exaggerated that she couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe this. Hannah and Beth I can understand, but you don’t even know me? And you’re already dissing me like this?”

“Oh I think I’ve learned all I need.” Ashley closed her book finally, and started to tick off her fingers with each point made. “You’re an annoying, egotistical, cocky prankster who loves the sound of his own voice. And who is also being a pain in my butt right now.”

The silence in the library was now far heavier than it normally was, and Ashley put her hands over her mouth as she realized in shock what it was she had just said. She had never been this sassy before, especially to a stranger, but something about Josh had just brought out the, well, sass in her.

Hannah, at least she thinks Hannah’s the one with glasses, reacts first by throwing her hands over her face to muffle what could possibly, though there is no way that’s what they are, be giggles. The one she thinks is Beth glares at her. “I don’t know who you think you are, but how dare you talk to my brother—”

The sound that interrupts her is one that Ashley never expected. It’s Josh, who’s holding his gut as he cries tears of laughter, going so far as grabbing onto the back of her chair to keep himself upright. Somehow, he manages to squeeze out what he says next in-between huge, gaping breaths of laughter.“Oh man, you really have my number don’t you?” Eventually, Ashley starts to smile and hesitantly laugh along with him, having no clue what just happened.

It’s takes one of the other library patrons on the floor with them, an older white-haired man Ashley vaguely recognizes from her visits here, shushing them sternly, and her hiding her rapidly reddening face behind her book, for Josh to finally settle down.

“Oooh, I like you. What’s your name, Red?”

“Oh, um, Ashley.”

“Well, Ash—”

“Ashley.”

He ignores her correction and sticks out his hand to her, smiling with the same wide grin he had on when he had been hanging from the chair. “I think we’re gonna be great friends, Ash.”

And god help her, Ash agrees with him as she tentatively grabs the hand offered to her and shakes it.

[seyaryminamoto]

I recently saw a heavy criticism of The Beach saying "it's the single least realistic portrayal of teenagers on television: spoiled, rich kids don't actively shun Zuko for having a disfiguring scar on his face, no one tries to start shit with Azula over the volleyball game, teenagers referring to themselves as teenagers, a teen boy tells people not to make a mess, a bunch of 14-16 year-olds sit in a circle and psychoanalyze each other, everything else about the campfire scene." Your thoughts?

:’) that someone looks at the Beach and dismisses it for being “unrealistic” by whatever their cultural standards are is probably enough of a sign of the irrelevance of said person’s opinion. I mean, obviously they’re free to think what they will, but...

Fire Nation society is not American society. I’m going blind here, maybe this person isn’t American at all, but somehow I mostly see such kinds of narrow-minded criticism from first-worlders who are seldom exposed to lifestyles outside their particular, contemporary bubble of experiences. 

Now then, let’s get into the actual debate: Fire Nation society values violence quite a lot. Fire Nation society is full of people who saw Zuko’s literal Agni Kai burning scene, and didn’t look away: the only character who does is Iroh, a very obvious hint by the writers that Iroh has discarded the cruel moral values the rest of the Fire Nation upholds.

With this in mind, a boy with a scarred face might earn all sorts of “ews” from our societies, damn right. From Fire Nation society, though? If even watching how the burn is inflicted didn’t bother most of them, why would the result be a problem? If anything, I wouldn’t be surprised if people with burn scars are even seen more attractive because it implies they were caught in violent scuffles with fire and still survived? Of course, the argument might go that Zuko’s burn is meant to be a mark of shame... but it’s a mark of shame for PRINCE Zuko. For that mysterious boy with the emo haircut in Ember Island, whose real identity is a mystery? It is shown, instead, to result in this reaction:

Now then, we could say that this is meant to be a jab by the creators and writers at Zuko’s hordes of fangirls, because frankly, Book 3 has several instances of groups of girls swooning over Zuko and it might be what they were going for. In this case, though, they’re swooning over him WITHOUT knowing who he is, as opposed to the fangirls in Nightmares and Daydreams. So, while it absolutely can be inspired on the many Zuko fangirls the staff knew about, this actually ends up serving to characterize a society, a culture: they don’t think his scar makes him unattractive. It’s blatantly stated that their reaction is the opposite. So, instead of thinking “oh god that’s so unrealistic”, how about we actually stop trying to measure everything by our standards and consider that this could be an element of WORLDBUILDING...? :’)

(Also, I’m pretty sure there’s a fair share of privileged young women in our current society who think Kylo Ren was hot as hell with a huge scar across his face... are those people not real, by any chance? :’D If anything, they’re living proof that girls swooning over a scarred boy in ATLA are absolutely feasible, no matter if not everyone shares their opinion)

Continues under the cut becasue this got long....

Now then, Azula is shown to take the Kuai ball game too far. She outright causes the ball, in the final kick, to burst into flames and burns the net. Going by Chan and Ruon Jian, these kids are privileged idiots, why lie... but are these privileged idiots stupid enough to see a girl flying three feet into the air, kicking a firebent ball and then giving a foreboding speech, and say “OKAY WE’RE GONNA PICK A FIGHT WITH YOU FOR BEING SO COMPETITIVE!”???? I mean... honestly. Why would anyone do this? Azula turned an inoffensive Kuai ball game into a battlefield singlehandedly: THIS, as well, is meant to be a display of characterization. That people don’t take the game so seriously, that they wouldn’t pick a fight with her because she’s dangerous or because they just don’t care as much as she does... it’s characterizing Fire Nation people every bit as much as it characterizes Azula.

Azula and Zuko are both shown reacting in ridiculous ways to casual things in this episode: Azula takes the game too far, potentially stages the burning down of a house in retaliation for being rejected by a boy, Zuko is hysterical and jealous and snaps at Mai over stupid things... it’s, again, a matter of showing how poorly adjusted these characters are. They’re not normal kids. They DON’T behave like normal kids. Normal, privileged kids in the Fire Nation, are kids like Chan and Ruon Jian. The episode literally gives you the chance to see Fire Nation society for what it is, in a way no other episode does... and because it’s not like our societies, it’s somehow wrong?

... Also, teenagers referring to themselves as teenagers is somehow unrealistic? I mean... is it nowadays? I don’t think any teenagers had a problem with saying they were teens in my youth :’DDD literally remember MCR released a song called Teenagers and a lot of us loved it to pieces. What exactly is so outrageous about it? Might be that this worked better in the mid-00′s, but I hardly think this makes no sense? Aang refers to himself as a kid earlier in the show, is that unrealistic too and worth rebuking a whole episode over? Are all teenagers supposed to be pretending to be grown-ups, like so many 16-year-olds on Tumblr who always talk like they’ve figured out the world and try to impose rules on fully-grown adults upon whom they have absolutely no power? :’DDDDD Yeah, I think this particular point is a stupid thing to make a fuss over. Honestly, it is.

Chan tells people not to make a mess = unrealistic. Ha. Did this person ignore his reactions at the chaos Azula, Zuko, Mai and Ty Lee caused in his house? “YOU BROKE MY NANA’S VASE!!!”, anyone? Like... I’m sorry, but this IS characterization, yet again! This shows Chan is a spoiled brat who wants to stay in his family’s good graces. The party isn’t at all as crazy and wild as you’d expect from, again, an American teenage party... and why? Because, for one thing, Chan is clearly afraid of the consequences of too much chaos in the beach house: this implies fear of authority, of his parents, perhaps even his grandparents. 

For another, again, FIRE NATION SOCIETY: what does this clever critic know, by any chance, of Nazi Germany’s Hitler Youth? I’ve watched a few documentaries about it, and basically if you were a boy and you weren’t in Hitler Youth, you were no one. You were worthless. And what happened in Hitler Youth? Conditioning to the extreme. These kids were taught all the alt-right ideology that Tumblr despises, and they were made to believe it was an undeniable reality. Were there cases of kids who didn’t like it, kids who didn’t approve of it? Surely. But the general idea of Hitler Youth was to educate every kid to behave in the way Hitler considered appropriate, to the point where “the notion "Germany must live" even if they (members of the HJ) had to die was "hammered" into them.”

This is, of course, an extreme example and I’m sure Fire Nation education wasn’t that extreme because we saw it for ourselves, it’s not. But a slightly milder version of it? That’s absolutely feasible and consistent with what we see in The Headband. Therefore, kids getting high and drunk at a party? Maybe that kind of thing simply DOESN’T happen in a Fire Nation party? :’) Maybe they’re taught that those kinds of things are off-limits to anyone under a certain age (or outright forbidden, might be the case with drugs), and as they live in a tyrannical society that priorizes the Fire Lord and his decrees above all else, where his word is treated as that of a god, even mischievous teenagers refuse to act out? :’D oh, what an implausible concept, this just can’t possibly make any sense! Hitler Youth is unrealistic too!

Lastly, that a bunch of kids would sit in a circle psychoanalyzing each other seems implausible to this person is actually laughable for me. Not only have I constantly found myself, from my early teenage years to current days, serving as some sort of unofficial therapist for many of my friends, who share their woes and ask me for advice (whether they’ll heed it or not), most importantly, I once had an experience with a friend, back in high school, much like what happens with these kids in The Beach, after I’d spent years doing a lot of post-depression introspection. I shared a lot of stuff I didn’t often talk about, and beats me WHY I felt completely comfortable sharing it with my friend that day, but I did. She understood me, listened, offered her opinion, and we talked about her problems too. This happened when I was 15-16. If this person has never experienced such situation... why, that’s not anyone’s business. But it’s certainly not their business to determine this just DOESN’T happen, to anyone, ever. I can safely say it does, to people who do have problems and who sometimes just need a friendly shoulder to rely on. Maybe this critic’s life is just so perfect they’ve never had to share their woes with anyone else :’) I’m afraid that doesn’t invalidate those of us who are different, and it doesn’t invalidate the possibility that those four could talk, as they did, without breaking characterization, in the scene of the fireplace at the beach.

ANYWAYS...

Saying that a show about a group of kids who save the world and then effectively become leaders of such world, facing very little opposition in the process, is unrealistic because “teenagers aren’t like that becuase I wasn’t like that as a teenager” may be one of the most ridiculous and shortsighted things I’ve seen in this fandom, AND I’VE SEEN A LOT OF RIDICULOUS AND SHORTSIGHTED THINGS. A person’s experiences are NOT universal, regardless of how widespread their culture may be. More importantly, fiction does NOT have to abide by rules established by our current society’s state and cultural values. ATLA, as it is, is a completely different world from our own, regardless of its inspiration in many Asian cultures.

I, personally, find it a lot more unrealistic that Fire Lord Zuko can become Fire Lord without much in the way of visible protesting or boycotting when he was a banished prince who didn’t even win in his Agni Kai against Azula since it’s Katara who ends up defeating her and, as far as the rules go, Azula technically won even if not in the most dignified of ways. I find it even more unrealistic that LOK tells us Zuko was Fire Lord successfully for 70+ years and the Fire Nation has been fully reformed into a non-warmongering country despite the 100+ years of indoctrination started by Sozin’s rule. That this gets swept under a rug, not only in the neatly wrapped finale that leaves a thousand unanswered questions, but in the sequel show that merely confirms Zuko succeeded and shows NOTHING of how he managed to reform such a fucked up society...? That is a thousand times more important to me than “privileged kids aren’t acting like privileged kids OMG!”. Honestly, you want privileged kids abusing all their privileges in our society? Go watch Gossip Girl, I genuinely recommend it. You want something that proposes a completely different possibility and a glance at what a society guided by a tyrannical dictator looks like? Feel free to watch The Beach again with a completely different focus and MAYBE you’ll understand what the writers were going for.

If this person happens to see my answer, I hope they learn that worldbuilding, for a storyteller, entails CREATING a world that isn’t necessarily like the one we’re familiar with. There are multiple layers to such a world, and society and culture are some of them. Not all cultures and societies work the same way, which is part of why sometimes you’ll find behaviors from people who belong to wholly different cultures and wind up perplexed because whatever they’re doing is completely unfamiliar for you. Are there any universal behaviors in humans? Maybe! But in a work of FICTION, even the most universal of behaviors can be changed, deleted, altered however the writer sees fit! :’D it’s not a novel concept, and as far as logical fallacies are concerned, this show features a whole slew of those that have nothing to do with this peculiar sense of “realism”, fallacies that absolutely can and should be called out. Namely, things that contradict the internal logic of the show, rather than things that are incompatible with OUR world. Portraying a world that’s very different from ours, on virtually every level you can think of? That’s called creativity, not lack of realism. Please learn the difference.

[sometimesrosy]

Part 1 I've yet to understand why bellarke shippers hate b*cho so much. Like, to me, the fact that it exists is the only proof I need to know that bellarke will get together. I mean if the writers really wanted to put an end to bellarke once and for all they would've picked raven, not echo, as a romantic partner for bellamy after the time-jump. Raven is a fan favorite, and she was already in a love triangle in which a guy chose Clarke over her.

Part 2 Plus, Raven and Bellamy were friends before the timejump and they had even slept together once. So they would've made much more sense than b*cho. But the writers knew that if they had done that, bellarke would've been off the table. So they went for b*cho instead.

I totally agree with you. B/R would have been a death knell for bellarke or a tragedy for raven. B/E is the perfect choice to push Bellarke into an acknowledged romantic relationship.  Notice, I don’t say “canon,” because I think Bellarke IS canon, in the way that Elizabeth and Darcy are the canon relationship in Pride and Prejudice even though they were not together or official until the very end of the book. 

And I think THAT is the difficulty fandom is having with B/E vs Bellarke. Because they are not looking at the story being told as a crafted work of art, intended to convey something intentional. Instead, they are looking at it more as a game in which one side wins and one side loses, like football. 

The narrative is a narrative that tells Bellarke’s long, arduous, tumultuous, complex journey towards being TOGETHER. (And together has been the theme since season 1, and it is represented IN CANON, as Clarke and Bellamy uniting.) Over the course of the show, being “together” has gotten more and more romantic every season, while holding off on giving the audience the resolution of kiss/confess/sex and I’m gonna add one more quality to that audience canon representation. Marriage. Because it is possible that marriage is on the table.

Why? BECAUSE the main story, the underlying story to the whole thing, is the Bellarke love story. And making B/E a canon relationship, and yet denying it development or story on screen, is a clear cut sign that Bellarke is a committed story. 

Why? 

Because B/E has been used as a COMPARE AND CONTRAST to Bellarke as a romance since the moment it became canon, when B/E being together was set up as a shock after watching Clarke alone and longing for Bellamy to come home. 5.01. B/E has ONLY had story that served to further OTHER storylines, Bellarke, the Blakes, Missions, wars, forgiveness. And if it focuses on either Bellamy or Echo, we have seen that neither Bellamy NOR Echo are getting what they need from the relationship.

You simply can’t tell a romance story without TELLING THE ROMANCE STORY. Therefore, B/E is a romantic obstacle to the romance story that IS being told. That is Bellamy and Clarke finding their way back to each other, now as a main plot line.

SO WHY do the bellarkers never seem to recognize B/E as a STANDARD romantic obstacle in the COMMON love triangle trope? This has always confused me because we get this story in fanfic all the time. I myself have written Echo as part of a love triangle and I did it before s5 too. Since s2, actually. So why are we ignoring the completely romantic trope of the love triangle and instead hating B/E so much? When it really isn’t so terrible a relationship, it’s just not the RIGHT one?

I have to go back to the football game analogy. 

They have teams. Bellarke vs B/E. Bellarke is THEIR team. B/E is the enemy. Any points the enemy gains is an assault on their their team. Therefore they hate B/E and they hate the fans of B/E. When B/E has the ball, that’s all they see. And they only count certain narrative evidence as points.

Now if they saw the story the way I look at it (and you too it seems) they would realize that certain things, like a forgiveness scene, “go save clarke,” the cinematography, cuts, music, constant b/e bickering, the jeaousy scene followed by the b/e fight scene, B’s grief, characters saying B cares more about C, The scenes with B and Josephine, bringing Clarke back with his love, even a b/e hug scene where his attention goes back to Clarke, and a final bellarke hug-- all these things add up to points in a Bellarke love story, and they overhwelm the B/E evidence of 5.01, Bellamy fighting for E against O, B/E goodbye scene, war comrades, “who knows forgiveness like us,” and bellamy saying he is forgetting the past (clarke we assume) when echo tells him, finally, about her family dying, and he seems to recommit to Echo... although it then switches to Clarke in danger and all his attention goes to Clarke from then on so I’m not sure we can count that. But that’s the thing. When you’re playing football with the story, you take things out of context, and for some reason, fandom seems to think that if you can convince others that a scene means nothing (Octavia’s “another traitor who you love”) then it doesn’t count. 

The way they count points in the shipwars is to find out who can make the most persuasive tweet/post about their ship. And if they can manage to make people doubt what they saw on screen by rewriting the story to fit their headcanon, then they win. 

Convincing people that what they see with their own eyes is a lie/delusion is actually called gaslighting. 

We see Bellarke happening on screen, but certain antis convince us we are delusional, or being baited, or things like narrative structure, cinematography, themes are made up things that don’t exist. 

Some people believe the gaslighting. They’d rather have a fanwar or believe that JR hates them personally, and have someone to be angry at than... idk... enjoy a show that did not go in the predictable direction they thought it would?

They hate B/E because of the points (kiss/confess/sex.) Because of the shipwars. Because some people try to gaslight us and this makes them angry and they take it out on a character? Because they’re afraid to allow B/E to be valid because of those antis who say it’s real and endgame. IDK. I think that B/E can be both valid and NOT endgame. Maybe because being outraged is the way they fangirl. And so they need to be FURIOUS at someone in order to work up the passion they want to feel, in order to feel like they are part of the in group, someone has to be in the outgroup. (You can actually WATCH as some fans, when their previous enemy (CL? CL fans? remember them?) is vanquished, have to search around for a new enemy. Sometimes they pick another fan (some people picked me as their enemy as soon as CLs went away even though I refused to play,) sometimes they pick the writers, sometimes they pick another character or ship. These are the ones I call antis. They are not so much fans OF a thing they love, but a group of people defined by who and what they hate. The thing that ended my commitment to fandom was when the bellarke fans decided BELLARKE was the thing they hated. I just couldn’t deal with that, as they decided that their headcanon was the REAL bellarke, and what we saw on screen was a betrayal. Me. I liked the story. Still do. And like it better than the headcanons at this point which tend to be more simplistic and trite.

It’s all a mess, frankly. And because there are so many different perspectives on the show and fandom, it’s probably best to not look for ONE answer. There are different subcultures within the fandom culture, after all, and within that, different people have different experiences and responses.

In order to understand how the fans are reacting to the story we have to understand the culture and psychology of fandom, and that is rather complex. And different for many people. I like to understand why people think what they thing, but in the end, I just have to stick to the text and continue to analyze canon without being influenced by fandom which seems to me to often be to WAY off base.

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Oh, Prince. I mean, this isn’t even your fault. You’re so used to one dimensional characters, aren’t you, that you can’t believe a character might have more! 

Let’s take a quick look at your nonsense, point by point. 

I can always take comfort in one fundamental truth about my fandom:

There is no one who dislikes the character of Stiles Stilinski more than Stiles Stilinski stans.

I may think that he’s a spoiled white boy who has tied his self-esteem to his ability to get his father and his friends to accept his sarcasm and outrageous demands, but I could never say that he’s not willing to go the extra mile for the people he cares about.   There’s too much evidence on the screen for me to ever say that.

What Stiles stans say this though? Every Stiles stan I know is perfectly satisfied in their belief that Stiles will absolutely go the extra mile for people he cares about. It’s why there are so many BAMF!Stiles fics. People love it when Stiles goes that extra mile, and often in a very bloody way! 

If you’re trying to make the point that there are even things that even you have to agree are true about Stiles, then maybe don’t lead into it straight from the argument that Stiles stans hate Stiles? Because, as always, you’re about as clear as mud. And about half as palatable. 

I may think that the show’s writers believed the character was entitled to lie to the people he cares about, entitled to be cruel to those he cared about, and entitled to physically and emotionally lash out at people when no other protagonist was allowed to do so, but I could never claim that he’s not brave or clever.  There’s too much evidence on the screen for me to ever say that.

But his stans don’t care what was up on the screen.

This is a cute attempt at rhetoric. And I see that you’re calling Stiles a protagonist now. You really do just have selective interpretation of what words like “protagonist” and “foil” mean, don’t you? And you change them more often than your socks. For someone who tries to maintain an air of intellectual superiority over others, you really shouldn’t use terms when you don’t understand their meaning. Stiles is not the protagonist of the show. You actually grasped this at one point. What happened? 

They truly believe that the character who aggressively pursued his crush on Lydia Martin would pine in secret like a wilting flower.  In Seasons 1 & 2, he didn’t observe his love from afar, sighing softly, he approached her repeatedly.  He never hid his emotions.  Was he successful?  No.  But you can’t tell me that the boy who told Lydia Martin at the Winter Formal exactly what she meant to him would turn around and conceal his romantic feelings for any other character (Derek, Peter, Theo, Isaac, anyone).  

Okay, but guess what? I can tell you that. You may lack the imagination to consider it, but I’ve read plenty of fics where Stiles is so outrageous in his declarations to Lydia because he’s trying to hide his asexuality, or his bisexuality, or his homosexuality, or even the fact that he’s just crushing on someone else. Your lack of imagination is your own problem, Prince, not fandom’s. 

They truly believe that the character who yelled at his father – the person he cares about most in the world – repeatedly, who demanded that his father listen to him, that his father respect his point of view, that his father open eyes to what’s going on around them, would suffer in silence if Scott, his best friend, supposedly neglected him.  That he would hang around like an abused wife as Scott treated him badly without raising a fuss.

Ah yes, because a person’s relationship with their best friend is always exactly the same one as they have with their parent, am I right? Same dynamic, same stakes, same everything. 

Let’s look at Isaac. Isaac is both the victim of abuse and a bully. These things are simultaneously true, and they’re situationally dependant. Imagine saying “Well, Isaac was an asshole to his peers, so he’d never just cower there and let his father abuse him!” Different people, different situations, different stakes, different dynamics. 

They truly believe that the character who slid into a police car to tell Derek that “I’m not afraid of you,” who confronted Peter when the alpha said “You’re not the bad guy?  Yeah, right,” who sassed off to Gerard “What are you, ninety?”, to an Ethan “Are you threatening me?”, to an FBI agent, to Theo, would be too scared to tell Scott that he was a tyrant and a monster?  That he would meekly fall under Scott’s thumb?  

Hmm... again, because a person’s relationship with the antagonists or the villains is exactly the same as the one they have with their BFF, am I right? 

Prince, here’s some shocking news: Stiles doesn’t give a fuck if Ethan or Rafael McCall doesn’t like him. Why would he? And yet he very much does give a fuck what Scott thinks. Remember that time he was too scared to tell Scott the truth because he was afraid Scott would kick him out of the pack? It was kind of big for his character motivation in Season 5. Weird you’ve forgotten it now. 

People like to say that any interpretation is valid, but that’s simply not true.  You can’t say that since Stiles was angry with Scott in Alpha Pack for going with Deucalion that he never believed in Scott’s principles, when he turns around and tells Theo that the thing he fears most is losing Scott as a friend because he broke one.   You can’t say that Liam thought Scott was a terrible alpha and then have him spend four episodes trying to make it up to Scott.  

No one can cherry pick the scenes that support a position and ignore the scenes that counter it, no matter how much they might want something to be true.  

You can’t say those things, Prince, because clearly you lack imagination, or the knowledge that people are actually complicated and messy. Fortunately there are plenty of fic writers out there who aren’t similarly constrained. 

Also, it’s funny that you bring Liam up here. Liam attacks Scott. Then Liam spends a bunch of episodes apologising for it and trying to make amends. Now, as you’re a Scott stan I understand it’s hard for you to recognise that sometimes characters realise when they’ve made mistakes and actually try to atone for them, but well, sometimes that’s what happens when people fuck up and make the wrong decision. And clearly at some point Liam did think Scott was a terrible alpha--hence trying to kill him and everything. Like, he probably wouldn’t have done that if he’d thought Scott was right. I mean, that’d be an odd thing to do to the alpha you thought was doing an amazing job, wouldn’t it? 

And then Liam apologised. 

We call that character development. You wouldn’t recognise it though, since Scott never had any. Of course you’re confused when it happens to other characters. 

Again, Prince, your lack of imagination isn’t fandom’s problem. It’s yours. 

[teamoliv-archive]

✍

For every ✍ I get in my inbox, I will reveal a pet peeve I have about rp.

I have a bit of a history with custom militaries in RP to the point where I very very rarely will RP with them anymore. Militias, small private orders, guilds, etc. are all fine, but if you have a full-scale organized military, I’m probably not going to interact with it. For those who want the long version, check the break.

Custom organizations in RP tow a line for me. On the one hand, there’s plenty of room to add things like companies, religions, non-profits, activist groups, and all manner of entities that can add some fun fleshing out to characters and stories.

That said, they can also be just as bad, if not worse than OCs with outrageous status or capabilities that push the limits of the lore. This is particularly true with things that are added in the large scale such high ranking officials in custom nations or organizations where the player is basically trying to put their character on a level of authority equal to some of the most influential movers and shakers of a setting. I really hate this because unless your organization can have a justifiable place inside the existing setting’s world framework it really shouldn’t be there; and for some reason it’s always custom military entities. In nearly two decades of RPing I have yet to encounter a custom military organization in any fandom I liked because they always did the same irritating things and always wound up with very few consistent writing partners as a result.

I don’t know if this is just the fact that creating a custom military immediately gives players a sense of power and influence they have complete control over, or if I’ve just had utterly horrid luck with these but every single damn time I’ve ever encountered a custom military organization, no matter the fandom, seems to do the same irritating things. If it’s not a semi-autonomous “special elite” sub-organization that reaps all the benefits of a canon military while not listening to its rules and regulations, it’s an outside force either from a neighboring (commonly custom) nation. Either way, I always see characters from said organization:

Act as if they have full civil and legal authority no matter where they are though some treaty contrivance.

Utterly ignore, disrespect, order around, or otherwise bad mouth members of whatever canon army exists.

Act as if they both have the right to take full command of whatever they’re cooperating with other units with and/or treat any orders or attempts to actually foster any sense of communication be turned down in favor of more order shouting from someone who realistically should have no authority over someone else’s troops.

Any comments, questions, or criticisms being met with consistent threats that aren’t actually enforceable unless they insist on it OOC.

Now all of these are just shitty RP behaviors in general. Rampant disrespect of other people’s muses for little reason, insisting on having full authority over the situation to the point of ignoring the other player’s wishes for the scene, and 

Sometimes the player will even bad mouth or criticize the implementation of whatever canon military is in place (whether or not said player was ever actually in the military tends to be a toss up) to the point of it being kind of obnoxious.

I know this sounds really specific but for whatever reason this has been every custom military in RP I’ve ever encountered. I still wouldn’t say the problem is the concept but I’ve yet to see it done well.

[flyswhumpcenter]

Fugitive [Whumptober 2019 - Day 9: Shackles]

Summary: Ruri mentally negociates with the shackles she has on her wrists and ankles.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V (personal dystopian AU, more info in notes)

Content Warnings: Imprisonment

Wordcount: 678 words

Notes: Hey y'all, do you like it when I decide I don't really like a prompt this much so I go out of my way to take it as metaphorically as possible, all that with the intention of twisting and bending it so it fits one of my very odd AU settings or just what I feel like writing at a given point? Yeah, that. It's based on an AU of mine, that's featured mainly in my fic Black-Winged Icarus, which can easily be found on my AO3 profile. That's... kind of it, actually. Explaining BWI's setting is kind of complicated and frankly I'm not in the right mood for it lmao. 

Event hosted by @whumptober2019

AO3 version available here.

----------

In more ways than one, Ruri was shackled to a wall, by the wrist, by the ankle.

Sometimes, she had a real shackle right above her feet. It wasn’t chained to anything, because that was an outdated practice to have. Instead, it was meant to track her in her every moves, how much she walked around her cell, how much she got up or sat back down, if she was trying to escape or if she was a patient girl who was silently plotting in the dark of her pathetic excuse for a room.

She knew all this from its appearance alone. It was lightweight and shining under the light like chrome finish. It beeped red from a LED indicating it was functioning. From the corner of her eye, she was always waiting for it to remain black forever, but it only did so for longer periods of time at some points of the day (moments where the prison was struggling with its electricity bill, she figured). After some time spent there having nothing to do but calculating a pattern and being forced to watch a cruel program on the TV, she had mentally noted down the ideal times to flee would she have the opportunity to do so at last.

They hadn’t left her wrists alone. Sitting next to her left wrist was a bracelet not unlike her ankle cuffs, sitting against her skin with seemingly no way to remove it. It was tight shut around her forearm and there was nothing she could do about it except stare at her prisoner number. In the eyes of everyone but the black-winged mole that had made his way to her cell, she was XYZ2, the second high-profile prisoner they had gotten to from her people. Alas, she was but the first nor the last: their leader had led the ways, her brother had followed her in Hell, and neither of them had come back from Academia’s headquarters yet.

Ruri was shackled to a prison cell and couldn’t do much about it. Even Crow, a guard officially endorsed by Academia, didn’t have the keys to anything but the front door and maybe a staff room or two. Everything had a key because humans would too easily escape their cages if one key opened more than one thing at a time: a waste of resources because Academia didn’t care about the shortage of metal in some parts of the territory they were supposed to be governing. No point in getting outraged about common knowledge and mere facts: it’d be a waste of time and energy too.

Still, she had somehow found one way out of this misery, even if it was shabby and had nothing to do with how imprisoned she was. No matter how many hand and ankle cuffs they’d try to slap on her limbs, no matter how much steel they’d make her wear to disgrace her and strip her from her sense of self and humanity, she’d always find a way around, find the fatal flaw in their ecosystem to squeeze herself out of the mess and out of the sharp-edged darkness.

Because the only way Ruri had found for herself as long as she stuck with shackles around her limbs was to escape with her mind, she had picked up an unconventional style of meditation, that she had come up with on the fly. She’d focus and forget the tragic world around her, even if just for an hour or two, ignoring how much captivity hurt her. That way, she could give herself back her wings and fly away from her birdcage, and they’d never be able to catch her out of her body.

If she was shackled physically, then she’d refuse to let them chain her mind; and until they’d have invented mind control, she’d remain free, in her own terms. She wouldn’t let herself be trapped, not when she had Shun to save and a revolution to take part in.

Her will would be so solid that it’d break the shackles of the mind.

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #12

Tissues at the ready, because, sniff sniff, this is the last post in the current series. And we’re ending with me, @ohaine, putting questions to one of my favourite people in the whole world, @likingthistoomuch, who answers questions about her secret squish, how culture and language influence her writing, and why her eyeball occasionally rolls under the bed.

If you’ve been in the Sherlolly corner of the fandom for any length of time at all you’ll already know that likingthistoomuch is funny, sweet and not afraid to say what she thinks. What you may not know is that she’s one of the kindest, wisest people that you’ll ever meet. She’s a beautiful person, a wonderful friend, a bit crazy, a bit sarcastic, and now, by public vote (well, I voted for it), an honorary Irish cailín dána. As if all of those things weren’t enough she’s a damn fine writer too. Want me to prove it? 

Molly looked surprised but followed his lead. They moved to the silent tune being played in his head, upping their tempo as the notes seemed to flow fast and with certainty until they reached a crescendo and slowly seemed to fall as leaves in autumn, leaving a wonderful silence in their wake.

“There’s no silence when I’m around you. It’s music. And its beautiful.”

The simplest symphony, one of her sixty two stories, is one of my all time favourites, and I was so happy to get the chance over Christmas 2018 to pick her brain about where these beautiful words come from.

OhAine: I’m always impressed by the gentle way you treat your words, and I’ve often wondered is that because English is a second language for you?

Likingthistoomuch: I am always surprised when reviewers say that because I honestly just blurt it all out. There is no deliberate attempt to make the words the way they are. And English, though it may seem like my second language, is in a way my first because my entire education has been in English. (I just may be more fluent in it than the local languages but that’s a discussion between my mum and me that you really don’t want to know.) The only real barriers are when it comes to the British way of putting words. Because we are so exposed to American TV, that’s the language that forms immediately in my mind. But it’s getting better, because nowadays it’s all British TV for me! (GoT is worldwide and based in Westeros so it’s not American ok!)

 OhAine:  Brit-picking you mean? Nothing will throw me out of a Sherlock story faster than reading something that just shouldn’t be there, so how do you get around it?  

 Likingthistoomuch: I (le gasp!!) ask people like you and Emma Lynch but mostly I just bulldoze ahead. (My muse lasts less than the winter here so I need to move it quickly.)

 OhAine: And is it that love of film/TV/stories that inspired you to write in the first place, or are you a life-long writer? What was the very first moment that you thought to yourself; I can do that?

 Likingthistoomuch: I would call myself the Accidental Writer (I can almost hear the play-writes scribbling that title down...royalties people!!!). I wanted to read a story with a certain story line, and the then regular prompt takers were all busy. @writingwife-83 was the one who suggested that I try writing the fic on my own, she said, “Why don’t you just give it a go!” And I did. The result, Moving with time, didn’t seem to be too bad considering. Of course I get the cringe moment when I read it now, but that’s what started the ball rolling!

 OhAine: This seems like a really apt moment to slip in a reader question submitted by @writingwife-83. She asked; How does writing inspiration tend to strike for you? Does it hit you out of the blue or does it come from something more external? 

Likingthistoomuch: It’s literally a hit from out of the blue! It can be a movie or a song or recollection of a scene, literally anything. That is exactly why my post-TFP took so long to finish, the story (Our love has a way about it) was just not getting through!! So I look at admiration when writers take on a prompt and expand it into stories. My mind’s inbox is full of Asks, waiting for the brain to acknowledge and work on it :).

 OhAine: When I looked at your sixty two stories as a body, it occurred to me that there are two types of stories that you excel at; Victorian!lock, and short scenes—

 Likingthistoomuch: Ooh thank you.

 OhAine: No, genuinely, no smoke blowing here LOL. I think you have a real affinity for Victorian Sherlock. So, how do you get into the mind set and what about that era particularly inspires you?

 Likingthistoomuch: The mind-set isn’t much of an imaginative journey. We Indians have a saying, "The English left India but left their bastard behind." This refers to the narrow minded, sexist mind-set that was highly followed during Victorian times, remnants of which we are still fighting to get rid of here. Not blaming it all on the English, we have been pretty inventive with our own original regressive thought process too. So for the social mind-set and fic setting, all I need is to look out the window. 

I love putting Molly and Sherlock in that era because on some front, both of them epitomise "not all heroes wear capes". She is trying to reach for opportunities that are denied to her just because of her gender and he is seen as the almost vulgar, rude and insensitive soul who is ready to judge people on their merits alone...(oh how dare he!!) It’s a personal favourite to put them in an era where they do struggle and fight but eventually it always work towards what they want, and of course, they get it via some unrelenting angst but hey what’s the fun if it’s all bubble gum. (It’s almost my inner romantic peeping out but don’t you dare tell anyone about it, I have a reputation to keep!)

 OhAine: I can kind of relate to that – and this is something I put to @hobbitsdoitbetter too, because she writes Victorian era Sherlolly so brilliantly as well – I often think of Molly in the Victorian works as being like Irish women of the last generation who took their small victories where they found them.

 Likingthistoomuch: True, unfortunately every geography and people has a similar story to tell. Things are changing but this change has yet to reach the grassroots levels.

 OhAine: We can’t talk about your Victorian!lock without mentioning With eyes shut tight, where you did a very interesting thing when you switched to John’s voice in a very ACD way. What inspired that? How did you find John’s voice?

Likingthistoomuch: I actually found John's character (and Martin's fabulous portrayal) in TAB to be very interesting. Here is a man who can see what’s correct, will support it but is also so short sighted that he doesn’t realise that in supporting the women's struggle elsewhere he is ignoring the struggle going on in his own home. So there was the empathy for Molly not getting her due treatment as Sherlock's wife balanced by the outrage at her wanting to follow her own heart. Martin's performance in TAB is my favourite of the special and it was fun to try and bring in his voice, the sarcasm battling the disbelief. I had great fun doing it :)

 OhAine: I have this theory that you have a secret squish on John, am I right?

 Likingthistoomuch: You mean crush? I absolutely adore the boots off Martin Freeman, his performance is exquisite. I know we all look in awe at Ben's work, but for me, performance wise Martin takes the cake.

As for John...you know Sherlock puts on a veil of indifference to hide that he feels so much. I think for John it’s the opposite. He thinks he feels a lot and understands it all, but he too is hiding the inner struggling man. That’s why the TLD exchange between these two, (S: Underneath all we may just be human. J:You too? S: No, you too) is so profound. Just as Sherlock found in John a partner, John did too. It’s just that Sherlock accepts that he needs John, John is too blind to understand that he needs Sherlock too. That is one man who has his emotions so cross wired and tangled, it’s a very interesting character. And the thing is I feel Sherlock understands that and hangs on to John, not looking at it as a weakness. John, if he ever introspects, will find his dependency on Sherlock as a weakness. It’s basically asking Sherlock to do something, which he himself would not apply. 

And Martin adds a different layer each time he plays him.

 OhAine: One of my favourites of yours is a short story (<1,000 words), New paths. There’s a very calm, meditative feeling to the story: could you tell me a bit about your inspiration?

 Likingthistoomuch: So, couple of years back we made a trip to England, and had visited Filey, near Scarborough in Yorkshire. After a long drive from London, we arrived and realised that there was a view of this cliff face from our cottage. And while my city bred, urban self gawked at the lovely site, the cloud thing happened and the hills actually turned pink. In that moment, it went all quiet and I literally felt the tiredness from my long journey seep away. And it’s only nature that can do that magic.

While writing New Paths, I wanted to see things from Molly's perspective. Do I feel she broke down and cried buckets and ate two tubs of ice cream? Maybe, but I don’t think so. I think she just felt tired and also at the same time, like a huge weight was off her back. And sometimes, what you need for your soul to just feel even a little better is a few moments away from humanity. Not necessarily to forget things, but more like to recharge your batteries and get the energy to deal with things in a better way. So I made her experience what I did that evening. I made her experience the sea, the beautiful colours that nature shows and just heal her tired heart a little. God knows she needed it.

 OhAine: Misty silhouettes is a unique story, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one quite like it before. Can you tell me about how it came to you and what are the challenges of writing Sherlock and Molly through so many lives?

 Likingthistoomuch: Misty came about because of Mirrors, a short one I wrote on my phone, half asleep and trying to get rid of an ear (brain?) worm. Kiki had loved it and encouraged me to expand on it, which I attempted to do. I think I had just recently watched a historic Indian movie and was highly impressed with the battle scene, hence the opening sequence. I thought; why not work through time as well as geography, bringing these two closer and closer, like they showed in the short Sherlock episode before S3, where Anderson comments Sherlock is coming home? So they start in ancient India, and then slowly weave geographically as well as chronologically towards their current destination, London. 

The challenges were to keep the story along the same theme as Mirrors, so trying to find characters, stories and their ending as well as the transition into the next life was some work. In short, I feel I have exhausted my small quota of creative imagination where the story stands right now, on the cusp of the last chapter where Sherlock is now in current time. It is definitely NOT abandoned; I have at least formulated ten stories and discarded them all because after such a long journey, Molly and Sherlock deserve a good reunion. And I trust myself to write it one day. Because that right end WILL come, I am sure of it.

 OhAine: Have you found that end yet?

 Likingthistoomuch: I may have! I have just started on that path, praying I stay on it.

 OhAine: What does your proofreading and editing process look like?

 Likingthistoomuch: Going through the document three times, checking for typos. Posting the fic, finding those three escaped typos and correcting them. Finding typos the more times I read a story. Yes, that’s the process. Elegant, no?

 OhAine: Super elegant, LOL!!! You would rather do it yourself than press a beta into service? Or do you find working with someone else restrictive?

Likingthistoomuch: I think it may just be because I am such an impatient writer. I have loads and loads of ideas but putting them on paper takes a lot out of me. So once it’s there, I can’t wait to get it published and for you guys to see (and maybe get a few reviews too.)

I am learning. I do at times ask for help to oversee the plot and the work and it’s worth waiting.

OhAine: But you work without a beta most of the time… Is that a deliberate choice, or something that’s just evolved?

 Likingthistoomuch:  Actually, that’s just how it evolved. My first impression of a beta was someone who would do a read through and call out my typos and grammatical mistakes. Then it dawned that I could ask about the story line and if / how/ will it work. The advantage of working with someone is that you might get a better way of putting your story forward, get help when you are stuck. Or they’ll help you understand character’s motives and inspirations even more, which was a fantastic new experience for me. On the downside you could end up telling someone else's story.

 OhAine: I think that’s a great point; you can end up telling someone else’s story, and it sort of has me reflecting that I’ve done that when I was very new to writing. Has it ever happened – even in relation to reader input – to you?

 Likingthistoomuch: Actually no. But that’s also because almost 95% of my fics are one-shots. As for inspiring something new, only Kiki's advice at expanding Mirrors was an exception. The rest...? I am a free bird!!

  OhAine: I’ve seen it argued lately that sites like tumblr stifle creativity and can lead your writing in directions you wouldn’t have otherwise taken it. What’s your take on that?

 Likingthistoomuch: Oh good question! The social policing at times can inhibit your writing and introduce undue caution at best or a total change of direction of the story at worse. It’s something that every writer has to take a call on, and finally write a story that he or she wants to tell. Because, at least for me, I know when I have written something good, and maybe not many would like it. But it’s the story I want to tell, and if I am not able to do that, no matter how many accolades I get, there would always be a feeling of dissatisfaction bubbling beneath the surface. I may just not share my work next time, and that would even further piss me off :D So not a good cycle to get into. I would encourage writers to take pride in their creation and own it like a boss. Your words indeed are your baby!

 OhAine: Does that mean that social media has been a stimulator more than a damper of creativity for you?

 Likingthistoomuch: So far I have had a relationship with social media where I have been able to distance myself if there indeed is shit happening. Which, if you have been on tumblr long enough, you know is pretty frequent. I keep to my lane, and I expect you to do the same. So far it has been a stimulator, and the few moments where it could’ve been a dampener, I was able to remind myself that’s it’s all virtual and imaginary and I have a real life outside, and hence was able to ignore the shit.

I have a very simple mantra, you no like, you unfollow or block or ignore. I will survive, indeed thrive, in your absence....if I notice your absence in the first place.

 OhAine: The thing that puts me off social media is the combative purity culture that seems to be so prevalent now.

 Likingthistoomuch: *roll my eyes so hard am still looking for my right eyeball that rolled under the bed, the bugger* All I can say is, real life is tough as nails, Social Media should be a platform to release some steam, not to order or bully people around. Again, instead of telling people what to do, what to post it would be better if the Social Police (aka Staff) got their act together and BLOODY ADDRESSED THE PORN BOTS. (I got 5 new followers yesterday and no prizes for guess what they are.)

Also, as a blogger, it’s not MY responsibility to ensure that YOUR children and young people see clean content. There are tags and blocks meant for filtering NSFW stuff. I came to your free site because I thought I could post/follow the stuff I want. And people will always find a way to find 'blocked' content. It’s called Google.

 OhAine: And a few quick fire questions to wrap it up. Starting with: how do you find your titles? 

 Likingthistoomuch: Like literally throwing a net out there and hoping the words caught make sense. Sometimes it’s just *snap* and you have your title, sometimes it takes time. I always hope the story inspires the heading but that rarely happens. Except for my post TFP, Our love has a way about it. That was purely the after effect of finishing chapter 1 that I had been trying for months.

 OhAine: How do you gauge the success of a story? What’s the metric you live by?

Likingthistoomuch: Reviews! Comments! God, I love them. But honestly, sometimes it’s more about being happy myself and putting an honest effort on the paper. I feel the best when I know the job I have done is a good, genuine one, like for Our love has a way about it.  It’s a lovely feeling and very few things can replace that knowledge of a job well done.

OhAine: Do you find writing is an outlet for real life pressure?

 Likingthistoomuch: Not really. How can I say this, it adds a bit of colour? Like people who art! Writing makes me feel good, that I can do things that may not have a tangible benefit for anyone but it is a big achievement for me. And since not many know that I write, it’s a very personal feeling, a fight to the finish with myself. 

 I had a great time addressing all these questions, Áine. I am surprised that the answers aren’t one worded, as I half expected them to be. Caught me in a chatty moment I should say :) This has been a wonderful exercise, and dare I say, a wonderful initiative. Kudos to you for coming up with this. 

OhAine: Aww, thanks Gee, you’re such a sweetie :) It’s been great fun, but I’ll be glad to get Friday afternoons back to normal!!

So guys, that’s it for now. I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who read, followed, re-blogged, liked, left comments, and supported this project, none of which would have been possible without the oh-so many lovely writers and interviewers who gave up their their time to participate, and who so kindly shared their fandom and writing experiences. Thank you all so, so much ♥

[robininthelabyrinth]

Eyestealer 3 - ao3 link

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama (mostly gen, hints of other relationships later)

Summary: Hashirama really doesn’t approve of the thoughtful way his father looks at his younger brother’s bright red eyes. He’s sure it doesn’t mean anything good for anyone.

He’s right.

A/N: a quick (but sadly short) update for @blackberreh-art, who needs something to read on the flight

——————————————————————————————

The one ability of Tobirama that their father seems to actually respect is the strength of his sensor abilities.

"No Uchiha could have reached that far," Butsuma says begrudgingly when Tobirama reports comings and goings from the edge of his extremely impressive range.

It may be the nicest thing he's ever said to Tobirama, who is all but walking on air for the next week, even if no one who isn’t Hashirama or Kawarama or little Itama would be able to tell. He doubles down on training that ability thereafter, broadening his range even further and increasing his precision to focus on additional details.

He gets very, very good at it, too. Hashirama has found that when Tobirama puts his mind to something, really puts his mind to something, there's very little he can't do.

(This is, sometimes, a problem - Tobirama is extremely creative, smart and unorthodox, but unfortunately he, like their father, is a brilliant tactician. Fantastic for battle, absolutely fantastic; wonderful in the short term and, at least for Tobirama, sometimes in the medium term, but when it comes to thinking long term...ugh.

Seriously, sometimes Hashirama wishes he wasn't born as good a strategist as he is because he's pretty sure he's going to be driven up the wall by the fact that he can so clearly see future consequences that no one else ever seems to think about. At least Tobirama is learning, even if he still hasn't quite figured out that just because you can invent something doesn't always mean you should.)

Still, as much as Tobirama wants to make their father proud, as much as he loves him, he hasn’t lost his reason or his sense of caution. He tells his father anything that might be helpful, practical useful things, but Hashirama is the only one who knows the true extent of his sensing: how sensitive he is to the nuances of others' chakra, how he can all but replicate exact details even from a distance, how much it hurts sometimes -

How he's always sensing, always, whether he's asleep or drained of chakra.

Even though he's grown up well past the usual dangerous age, Tobirama's chakra still has a way of draining far too fast sometimes, no matter how little he's doing. Recently they discovered, through some impromptu games of hide and seek with little Itama, a happy soul, that it helped a little if he kept his eyes closed. Ever since then, Tobirama has spends increasingly more of his time in his private quarters wearing a blindfold, purportedly as a means of further training his situational awareness - not that he needs it, given that he learns to move around fluidly without his sight within the course of a few weeks.

Outside the home, where walking around with a blindfold would be more embarrassing and require more explanation, he takes to adding a happuri to his armor so that he can draw it down over his eyes whenever he has a moment to rest.

Things are going well.

Hashirama starts to feel happy: Tobirama's sensor abilities are a blessing, something he can be cheered for throughout the clan. Finally, he thinks, there was something that Tobirama could do that would bring him only joy.

(He should have known better than to tempt fate.)

It happens in public, at a formal clan dinner with all the elders and their father sitting there, and no one knows that Tobirama's senses are still working but Hashirama.

But because Hashirama is the only one who knows, he's the only one who has even the slightest idea what's happening when Tobirama suddenly drops his bowl, his expression twisting in horror, and throws himself out the window without a word a second later.

"Please excuse us," Hashirama says on his behalf to the outraged elders and their father, then follows him out before they have a chance to respond.

He doesn't know exactly what it was that Tobirama sensed that so overwhelmed him, but that expression means it's nothing good.

There are very few things Tobirama cares about that would make him willing to so breach the rules of etiquette so thoroughly beaten into him -

- and Kawarama is out of the compound on a courier mission.

Hashirama's already resigned by the time they're out in the forest, running faster than thought but still not fast enough, but Tobirama shrieks as though he was the one who was stabbed, his too-powerful senses showing him all the details he would never be able to excise from his too-perfect memory, staggering and beginning to fall even as he reaches the clearing that should have been safety, having exhausted himself in speed and left nothing for fighting.

Hashirama is just moments behind him, though, and he reaches out with the forest to try to strangle his brother's killers.

He gets two of the squad, mangling their bodies beyond recognition without the slightest ounce of pity, leaving them only identifiable as Uchiha by the scraps of fabic that flutter to the ground, but three others manage to evade him, disappearing in a flurry of leaves and shadow.

When he turns back, Tobirama is on his knees, sobbing and tugging futilely at the swords and kunai that pierce Kawarama's body. "I should've been faster," he says, voice broken. "I should have kept better watch - I should have been faster, I could've helped if I'd only been faster - Hashirama, help me! I don’t have the chakra reserves to heal him!"

Hashirama comes to stand by his shoulder. His heart hurts, seeing his brother's body like this, but not the way Tobirama's does. Tobirama was the one who raiased Kawarama, raised Itama, not Hashirama; Hashirama loves them dearly, but they're his brothers - to Tobirama, they might as well be his sons.

(And if some part of Hashirama bitterly remembers that Kawarama is their father's favorite, neither his disobedient eldest nor his despised second, and thinks of how despite Hashirama’s best efforts he had begun to absorb some of Butsuma’s more pernicious beliefs, repeating vile things about Tobirama when the other was absent even though it was Tobirama who loved him more than anything - well. That part of him doesn't need to see the surface.)

So it hurts and he grieves, but he also knows that it’s not as bad a blow as it could have been - not as bad a blow as it is to Tobirama.

"We'll take him back for a burial," Hashirama says, because there's nothing before them but a corpse.

Tobirama moans in despair, horrible grief making his voice grate terribly, like the sound of splintering wood, and then suddenly his hands fly up to his face, his chakra levels suddenly draining at an alarming rate.

"Tobirama!" Hashirama exclaims, moving forward at once. "What - a trap? Tell me what hurts!"

He continued his lessons as a healer long after the medic taught him those few techniques and insisted that Tobirama learn, too, counting on his brother's genius mind to start coming up with new combinations almost at once, which he had. They were both very good at it now.

"My eyes," Tobirama moans. "Something's wrong with my eyes."

Hashirama's scanning frantically, looking for the damage, but nothing's coming up as wrong. As far as Tobirama's body is concerned, it's working as designed.

Except Tobirama's chakra is still draining away like he somehow sprung a leak, which means there must be a wound - a trap - a seal - something - but where could it be? With enough expertise, a trap seal could be drawn on any surface, solid or liquid: on skin, hair, tongue, eyes –

Eyes.

"Hold still," he tells Tobirama, more or less futilely because Tobirama is barely even twitching anymore. "I'm going to pop out your lenses."

He hasn't seen Tobirama without his lenses in years, nothing but the brief glimpses when he helped him in the mornings, but he still remembers what they look like under there - what they should look like, that is.

And the second the lenses are off, there it is, whatever it is that's hurting his brother: the black flecks in Tobirama's eyes have changed, turning instead into a pinwheel made of little black waves.

(It's almost like the Uchiha symbols he's seen scribbled on old scrolls, but that makes sense, doesn't it, that the Uchiha would leave an Uchiha trap on a freshly-killed corpse, meant to catch the unwary.)

"Tobirama, I think I've figured it out where the trap is - Tobirama - no, don't pass out - Tobirama! Stay with me...!"

Hashirama doesn't want to leave Kawarama's body behind, but he would do it in a heartbeat if he thought the medics back home would be of any help. He would throw himself on the nonexistent mercy of the Uchiha themselves if that's what it took to save Tobirama’s life, but he knows that they won’t help either.

It’s up to him.

He sits there all night, between the corpse of one brother and the comatose body of another, ignoring everything he’s ever learned about healing in favor of brute-forcing as much of his chakra into Tobirama as either of them can tolerate and a little beyond, and he thinks he might go a little insane in the process.

(Sometimes Tobirama's eyes look as if they themselves have drained of all color, an almost pale lavender with rippling concentric rings around the pupil, but Hashirama manages to convince himself it's a trick of the light and with an concerted effort it goes back to the more familiar red.)

Morning comes.

Tobirama opens his eyes.

They’ve gone back to the normal red-and-black-flecks, Hashirama is relieved to see, and his chakra appears to have stabilized.

“Anija,” Tobirama croaks, his voice cracking. “Tell me –”

But he falls silent.

Hashirama knows what he wants to ask, knows why Tobirama didn’t ask it, and curses yet again his brother’s memory.

He wishes, more than anything, that he could tell him that it had only been a dream.

“Let’s go home,” he says instead. “Get on my back.”

Tobirama’s eyes flicker and change – pinwheels again, and his chakra swells as though he were using some sort of powerful jutsu – but then they return to normal as he forces himself to calm, willpower overcoming his emotions as it has had to do far too many times before.

Looks like whatever the Uchiha did to him, it's not going away anytime soon.

Fine, whatever. It doesn't matter. Hashirama will find a way to make sure Tobirama survives whatever this is - survives and thrives. He will.

He won't let him down again.

“I remember them,” Tobirama says quietly, interrupting Hashirama's thoughts.

“Them?”

“The three you missed. I know what they look like. The next time we go up against the Uchiha, I’ll kill them.”

Hashirama knows Tobirama means it, too; he’s killed before already. If anything, he’s killed more often than Hashirama has, for all that Hashirama’s power is the more deadly – Tobirama knows how much Hashirama hates to strike the finishing blow, so he does it for him when he can, Hashirama finding often enough the shinobi he’s grabbed in the roots of the Mokuton have their throats slit or their lungs filled up with water before he’s forced to crush them.

“Well,” he says, shrugging. “That should make Butsuma happy, at least.”

(It doesn’t save Tobirama from being punished when he gets home, though, and Hashirama’s fists clench so tightly that his palms begin to bleed.)