#it just annoys me. i know we’re a fandom full of funny jokes/responses but at some point it just becomes disrespectful.

[fissions-chips]

Ngl it kinda grinds my gears when I make something, be it post or artwork or fic, and I make it genuinely sad as hell, and people just make jokes about it in the tags/response.

[deadanddeactivated]

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Put on Your Pants

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairing:  DLAMP Characters: Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Logan, Patton, Roman Notes: Day 12 of the fluffuary event being hosted by @tsshipmonth2020​​ - DLAMP.  i am so far behind opps. Summary:  Remus doesn't really mean to meet his brother's soulmates first. He just sort of does.

AO3

--

In a world of soulmates, Virgil sometimes wonders what end of the stick he got when words started appearing on his skin.  They weren’t First Words or Love Words, static words that marked a special moment.  Rather they were Written Words - the things that his soulmates had written on their skin.  Or drawn.  Or accidentally marked themselves with.  Basically whatever ink spills onto his soulmates, leaks onto his.  

Sometimes it’s nice, like the little ‘I love you’ that always appears in light blue pen at his wrist.  Other times it’s annoying, like back when he was trying to figure out exactly how many soulmates he had.  

The ink only remains on him as long as it remains on them.  Which is why that ‘I love you’ is usually faded by the time he goes to bed but fresh in the morning.  It’s also how he got a completely free and mostly painless tattoo of a yellow snake on his hip.

But there’s a thousand other connections Virgil could have developed, and sometimes that thought keeps him up at night.

A timer would have been interesting.  An exact count of the seconds until he met his soulmate, or the moment he fell in love with them.  It also would have been terrifying and a lot of pressure and Virgil’s really glad he didn’t get a timer.

First Words might have been nice.  Solid words that didn’t change or fade.  But then he ran the risk of having terrible first words, or gerentic ones.  Sure, no one really greets strangers with a ‘hello’ for that exact reason but the risk is always there.  And what if he misheard someone?  Or if two people said his words?  It all sounds like such a nightmare.

Virgil would just straight up hate having a first touch soulmark.  He isn’t a touchy-feely type person, just brushing up against a stranger in the street leaves him wound tight all day.  And what if that was how he and his soulmate touched?  He’d never notice.

Of course there are also the invisible connections.  Like Strings of Fate, or Guides.  Then there were the colourblind soulmates.  And the mental connections.  Virgil’s pretty sure any type would make him nervous.  It’d be too easy to ignore the strings and guide, to run away from who fate deems his match.  Being colourblind doesn’t seem too bad, but Virgil would always be doubting if he had soulmates at all.  Same if he had something like a soul song.

Besides, he’s seen Aunt Patty cornering his cousins with invisible connections before, grilling them for news way worse than everyone else.  That is something he’d rather avoid, thank you very much.

So yeah, Virgil often wonders about the other connections.  But usually he decides written words suit him just fine.  

Usually.

“Oh come on.”  Virgil complains when he steps out of the shower.  Red’s got a moustache drawn across his face, which means Virgil has a moustache across his face.  Virgil also has class today.  Where people will see the moustache across his face.  And stare.

“I so don’t need this today.”  He grumbles.  Unfortunately, there’s really no avoiding it.  He can’t miss this class.  Only hope his soulmate will rub the moustache off soon.

Another piece of ink catches his eye as he gets dressed.  Light blue ink right beneath the usual ‘I love you’.  ‘Sorry!  It was a joke! -- thinks hes funny.’  One word, likely a name, is smudged and unreadable.  Like names always are.  Virgil isn’t sure if Light Blue doesn’t know those details wouldn’t show up or if they just never think about it.  

What he does know is that Light Blue and Red have met, a few months ago at least.  He figured it out when the usual ‘I love you’ appeared in red text on his other wrist, the handwriting matching Light Blue’s perfectly.

Virgil also knows that, despite Light Blue’s tendency to talk to him, none of his soulmates share his Written Words.  Which is fine, it’s whatever.  Most soulmates don’t share a connection.

He’s pretty sure Red can see strings, based on the rings they sometimes draw around the base of their fingers.  Light Blue told him he has Love Words, one night long ago when he was wondering about a person he doesn’t know exists.  Virgil has suspicions that Yellow is coloured, because sometimes they write the names of colours up their arms.  To Virgil they’re all yellow, but he doubts that's accurate.  Dark Blue is a mystery.  If Virgil had to guess, he’d say Dark Blue has Timers because, very occasionally, Dark Blue writes numbers and dates that don’t quite match their usual science-math mumbo jumbo.

All of that is fine with Virgil.

Really.

“Put it out of your head Virgil.”  He orders himself, huffing.  Why is he so focused on his soulmates this morning?  Does a stupid moustache prank really have him digging deep right now?

Or, a quiet and very honest voice says in the back of his head, maybe it’s because it’s your birthday.  Which, Virgil knows, is much more likely.  That doesn’t mean he wants to admit it.

So what if it’s his birthday?  So what if he’s another year older and no closer to finding his soulmates?

So what if it’s another year he doesn’t even exist in their lives.  Not really.  Not the way they exist in his.

Because if he’s right about his soulmates, then they don’t have a changing connection like his.  They have some flat, unchanging thing that doesn’t tell them anything.

But Virgil?  Virgil already knows them.  He knows that Red likes theatre, because they’re always writing down their lines or the dates of shows or the roles they want, sometimes later circling the ones they got.  He also knows that Red always forgets the milk.

Then there’s Light Blue, who will write on his skin for hours because he doesn’t want Virgil to feel alone.  Even though he doesn’t even know Virgil’s there, reading his every word.  He also sounds like the sweetest person on Earth.

Yellow likes to draw.  They also have a pet snake, and a pet rat.  Virgil thinks they’re terrible with names too, because they like to write people's names only to give them little nicknames or descriptions.  

Dark Blue probably writes the least, but when they write boy do they write.  Virgil’s arms have been covered in various math formulas and half-finished thoughts.  It’s like Dark Blue can’t find enough paper in the world to contain all the thoughts in their head.

That’s what his soulmates are to him.  Full people that… well, that he’s sort of already fallen in love with.

It hurts to think they know nothing about him.  

“Okay great, I guess we’re just having a bad day today.”  Virgil huffs, fitting a scarf over his face in hopes it’ll cover the red moustache.  It must have been drawn in some heavy duty stuff.  

Great.

--

“Trying to look anime instead of emo today?”  Virgil sighs as he falls into his seat, not even sure he wants to give Remus a response.  No matter what he says, Remus is likely to make something of it and Virgil just isn’t sure he has the energy.

Of course, his friend is likely to make something of it even if he doesn’t say anything so…

“No.”  He admits, pulling the scarf down to reveal the mark.  “Apparently someone played a prank on Red this morning.”  Remus gasps, then grins.

“Matchy!”  He says.  

“Sadly.”  Virgil agrees, rolling his eyes and fixing his scarf back up.  “Hopefully by tomorrow they’ll both be gone.”  This time Remus’ gasp is more offended.

“Are you insulting my moustache good sir?”  He demands.

“Always.”  Virgil smirks.

“I’d throw my gauntlet at you but Roman refuses to give it back.”  He claims. 

“You’d duel me on my birthday?”  Virgil asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh most certainly.  It’s like birthday punches but with sharp pointy things!”  Remus grins.  “But, since it is your birthday…”  Virgil’s amusement turns to caution at the look in Remus’ eye.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”  He warns.

“I won’t, I won’t!”  Remus assures, brushing him off.  “I’m just saying you should come to my dorm later to get your present.”

“Isn’t that my present there?”  Virgil asks, gesturing towards the lump on the desk, horribly wrapped in a mix of purple spider-themed paper (the spiders look self-drawn) and green octopus paper.

“Nop!”  Remus claims, very concerning grin on his face.  “This is something else!”

“Seriously?”  Virgil sighs.

“As a heart-attack!”  Remus grins, and then grins all the more as Virgil mutters about how that doesn’t work.

--

‘It’s ready!’  Virgil sighs at the message for the thousandth time, trying to pretend he wasn’t nervous.  And excited.  Nercited.  Oh god, he’s been spending way too much time with Remus lately.

And he’s about to be spending more time with him too, because he’s just reached the door to Remus’ dorm and the mysterious birthday present beyond.  Raising his hand to knock, telling himself he just wanted to get this over with, Virgil pauses right before his hand connects with the door.

“Remus, this is ridiculous!”  An unfamiliar voice snaps from the other side of the door.  Does Remus have guests?  Although it could be Remus’ roommate, that guys so exlusive Virgil’s not convinced he exists.  Should he still go in?

“Just trust me Ro, you’ll love this!”  That’s Remus.  What is he talking about?  Surely it’s not… no, Remus wouldn’t be trying to play a prank of him.  He’s better than that.  Right?

“I don’t trust you.”  Mysterious Person, possibly roommate, probably ‘Ro’, huffs.

“Oh come on Roman,” a new mysterious voice speaks up, “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“The last time you said that I ended up with a moustache drawn on my face!” 

What?

“Shush!”  Remus shushes the other.  “Shhhhhhhh!”

What?

Did, did Virgil hear that right?  Surely he didn’t.  Surely he misheard, or it was a coincedience or- 

A ding sounds from his pocket as Virgil’s phone goes off.  The door opens a second later, revealing a wide-eyed Virgil with his arms still raised to a pouting Remus.

“You heard, didn’t you?”  He whines.  “Roman you stole my thunder!”

“What?”  Virgil finally manages to say it as Remus steps back, revealing the owners of the mysterious voices.  Two men are standing side by side in the middle of the dorm, chests wrapped together with a mix of purple wrapping paper and green paper covered in octopus’.  One has browny-blond hair and big blue eyes framed with glasses.  He smiles at Virgil, seeming entirely unbothered by Remus’ sheddigans.

The other man is clearly the twin brother that Remus has mentioned having.  They’re practically spitting images of each other, although this one looks more… well, less like a chaotic mess.  He has his arms crossed and a moment ago he sounded very put upon.  But now?  Now he’s staring at Virgil like a deer in headlights.

A lot like Virgil is staring at the two of them really.

Surely these aren’t…

That can’t be possible, right?

But right under the twins nose is a somewhat smudged, slightly faded moustache.  It’s drawn in a black marker but it other wise matches the red mark on Virgil’s face perfectly.

“Hi!”  The blond greets, waving.  “I’m Patton!  You’re a friend of Remus’, right?”

“Um, hi?”  Virgil manages, swallowing around the lump in his throat.  If Remus’ twin is Red, and Virgil is starting to really think hope he is, would that mean Patton is Light Blue?

Holy shit was Virgil really… really staring at half his soulmates right now?

“He’s a friend of mine, but his much more to you.”  Remus says, grinning ear to ear and wrapping and arm around Virgil’s shoulder.  Still stunned, Virgil doesn’t even push him off.

“Huh?”  Patton asks, tilting his head tiltly.  In response, Roman holds up his hand and wiggles a finger.  Virgil can just barely make out the purple ring at the base of the finger.  “Oh my gosh, really?”  He asks, hands raised to cover his gasp and growing smile.

“I uh, I think so.”  Virgil says.

“Well I know so!”  Remus grins.  “I recongized that moustache immediantly, I mean I did draw the original.  Aren’t I the best best friend?  I got you your soulmates for your birthday!  They’re even wrapped!”

Virgil takes a moment to let that sink in.  

And then…

“You got me stuck with a moustache on my face!”  He accuses, turning to glare at Remus.

“It was for a good cause!”  Remus claims.

“Good cause my ass.”  Roman huffs.

“This is so exciting!”  Patton grins, bouncing and accidentally breaking the wrapping Remus had done, much to the mams dismay.  Without the paper in the way, Patton quickly bounded over to grab Virgil’s arms.  “What’s your name?  What’s your soulmate connection?  Wait, you were talking about the moustache does that mean you have Written Words?  Oh my gosh that’s so exciting!  Does that mean you got my words?”  Words tumble out of his mouth so fast that it takes Virgil a moment to catch up.

“Uh,” he starts, “I’m Virgil.  And uh, yeah.  Um…” he trails off again, not quite sure what he’s meant to say.  So instead he gently pulls his arm out of Patton’s hold, turning it over so he can see the words there.  Words that Patton wrote.  Every morning.  Holy shit.

“Oh my gosh!!”  Patton squealled, pulling Virgil closer to look at the words.

“Babe you’re overwhelming him.”  Roman warns, having recovered a lot more completely than Virgil has.

“Oh please.”  Remus says, leaning more completely on Virgil’s side.  “I’m the most overwhelming person he knows.”  This time Virgil has the sense of self to bump Remus off, although he has to do it with his shoulders since Patton still has his arms.

“That’s not a good thing.”  He huffs.  

“Ignore my brother.”  Roman says, he taps Patton’s shoulder and Patton, begrudingly, steps away.  Virgil’s arms don’t stay free for long, Roman taking his hand and bowing over it.  “I am Roman Prince, I have been searching all my life for you Virgil.  You are more beautiful than I ever dreamed.”  He says, ending his little speech with a kiss to the back of Virgil’s hands.

“Uh,” is all Virgil can manage, his face flushed red.

“That was really good Ro!  You didn’t even stutter this time!”  Patton praises, making Roman’s face turn red as he stands back up.

“Patton!  You’re not meant to tell him that!”  He hisses.  His face goes all the redder when Virgil laughs. 

He knows these people, he suddenly remembers, he’s known them all his life.  Red is just as dramatic in person, Light Blue just as sweet.  Virgil never should have expected anything different.  The thought calms him.  Why was he so overwhelmed in the first place?  

“I’ve been waiting all my life for you to find me, Roman Prince.”  He teases, laughing again when Roman stutters.  It reminds him of the grand declarations Red would write, the hearts he would draw, only to quickly scribble them out in embarrassment.  It’s cute.

“Using our dorm for a party I see.”  A new voice speaks up.  “And blocking the doorway.”

“Hey De!”  Remus grins.  “Guys this is my roommate, I told you he was real!”  The three soulmates look over, meeting the mysterious mans yellow eyes.  Roman makes a strangled noise but Virgil doesn’t get time to think about that.  He’s a bit distracted as De’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he stumbles. 

“Shit.”  Virgil curses, quickly stepping forward to catch the stranger. 

“I’m fine.”  De claims, eyes already blinking open again.  “It was just… lots of colour, rather quickly.”

“Oh my gosh!”  Patton grins, looking from the now yellow band on Roman’s wrist to the new comer.

“I am the bestest best friend and the bestest rommate!”  Remus announces, cheering.

“Huh.”  Is all Virgil can manage for the moment, staring at his soulmate as gets back on his feet.

He’ll never actually tell Remus this but… yeah, best birthday present ever.

--

“I am determined to find our last soulmate first.”  Roman announces, slamming his lunch onto the table the others have claimed for lunch. 

“I’m still reeling from the fact there’s only one.”  De, actually Dante, says.  It didn’t take long for him, and Virgil, to get used to Roman’s particular brand of dramatics.  Or Patton’s practicular brand of ‘constantly, unintentionally adorable’. 

“I’m sorry!”  Virgil says for the thousandth time, although there’s no heat in it.  “I can’t help my eye colour!”

“Colours.”  Dante corrects.  He’d been only a little put out when he realized Virgil had mismatching eyes, apparently he’d spent his life assuming he’d have five soulmates not four.  That has been added to Virgil’s ‘con’ list for being colourblind.

The little messages his soulmates send him have been added to the ‘pro’ list for Written Words, not that he’ll say aloud how much he loves them.

“Why first?”  Patton asks, because he’s a kind heart who will actually play along and not just tease Roman.

“Because Remus keeps meeting my soulmates first!  He’s convinced he’ll meet our last soulmate first, and I won’t let him!”  Roman explains.

“Well he does have a fairly good track record.”  Virgil says.

“You meet Patton first at least.”  Dante offers.

“No, I meet Remus first.”  Patton admits.  

“Patton was his favoruite barasita.”  Roman says, like it’s some great tradegy.

“You know, it shocks me how good he is at finding soulmates.  He couldn’t even find out classroom today.”  Virgil says.

“Seriously?”  Dante asks, smirking.

“Yep.  Apparently he ended up in some science class and decided to just stick around.  He made a friend though.”  Virgil elbroates, pulling out the text messages they’d been sending earlier that day.

“Oh, maybe his friend is our soulmate!”  Patton suggests, deaf to Roman’s dramatic ‘noooooo’.  “He does write a lot of science-y things, right Virgil?”

“Lots of people do science-y things Patton.”  Virgil points out.

“Still, maybe there’s a clue in the things he writes to you.”  Dante says.

“He doesn’t write anything to me, he just writes on his arm.”  Virgil argues.

“There has to be some sort of clue.”  Roman claims, suddenly in good spirits again.  “This could help us track him down, so we can meet him before Remus.”

“I hate to break it to you but any ‘clues’ would probably be smudged.”  Virgil shrugs.  “All I know is that he’s probably got a timer.”

“A timer?”  Patton asks.  “How can you tell?”

“Well it writes weird dates sometimes.”  Virgil explains, lifting his sleeve to show the date on his shoulder.  There’s a date about three weeks from now, which has be crossed out.  “But it changes almost every time.”

“I hear that’s common with timers.”  Roman says.  “Apparently the timer changes when your fate changes, like you were meant to meet today but you missed your train and now your won’t meet for another three months.”

“Seriously?”  Virgil frowns.  “Okay that’s terrifying.”

“I like it.”  Dante says.  “Soulmates seem way too ‘free choice is a myth, our lifes are completely pre-determined’, you know?”

“Okay!  Let’s not have another one of those talks!  I need to sleep tonight!”  Patton quickly shuts that down.  

“Yes, let’s go back to talking about how we’re going to meet our soulmate before my brother!”  Roman says.  “If he’s crossed it out, does that mean that’s not the date anymore?  What’s the new date?”

“How am I meant to know?”  Virgil sighs.

“Hey guys!”  Remus calls out.  “Look I made a friend!  His names Logan.”  He gestures to the man beside him who suddenly raises a hand to his head, wincing.

“Go away Remus, I’m trying to organize how to meet my soulmate without you.”  Roman says, back to his brother.

“Might be too late for that.”  Dante warns. 

“Seriously?”  Virgil asks, looking from Dante’s smirk to the new comer.  Roman turns to look, eyes glued to the end of a red string that no one else can see.

“Oh come on!”  He exclaims, frowning.

“Four for four!”  Roman cheers.  

“Why does Remus keep meeting my soulmates first?!”  Roman demands, standing from the table to glare at his brother, hands on his hips.  For his part, Remus is finding quite a bit of amusement in his brothers annoyance.

“Oh last soulmate!!”  Patton grins, jumping from the table to wrap his arms around Logan.  “We found you!”

“Or Remus found you, he has a habit of that.”  Virgil says.

“It’s a horrible cruelty of fate.”  Roman huffs.

“Way not to be overwhelming everyone.”  Dante comments, resting his cheek on his hands as he looks between Patton, Roman, and Logan.  Virgil just watches Logan, seeing all the stages of surprise and confusion that he went through meeting Pat and Roman.

“Ah,” Logan finally manages to speak, “I was wondering why they suddenly all matched.”

“What luck!”  Patton grins.

“Remus luck.”  Virgil says.

“Stop giving Remus all the credit for my soulmates!”  Roman snaps.

“We’re not just your soulmates.”  Virgil argues, just to rile Roman up a bit more.  As they bicker, Patton lets go of Logan and instead leads him to their table.  It was a little cramped with just the first of them but they managed the six.

“They’re always like this.”  Dante warns from his spot across from Logan.

“Don’t lump me in with them.”  Virgil says, only to immediately return to his overplayed argument with Roman.

“Believe it or not, this is actually them giving you space.  De almost passed out when he met everyone.”  Remus faux whispers to Logan.

“It was because of the colour!”  De claims, face turning red.

“Oh my god!”  Patton exclaims, suddenly standing and looking mortified.  “We didn’t do introductions!”

“I think,” Logan tells De, looking over the chaos, “I might not mind.��

“Yeah, they get you like that.”  Dante sighs.

“Don’t let him follow you, he’s just as bad.”  Virgil says.

“Oh so’s Logan, you guys just didn’t see him in class.”  Remus grins.

“Falsehood!”  Logan claims.  Virgil can’t help but laugh, grinning as he feels something settling.  They go through proper introductions.  Roman goes last, giving his customary prince-y bow.  And then getting flustered as Patton, Dante, and Virgil clap because they’d made a secret pact and they all agree Roman looks adorable flustered.

When Virgil goes home, he’ll fret that they scared Logan off.  He’ll worry they were too much.

But tomorrow, Logan will join them for lunch once more.  And the day after, and the day after.  Then, when the semester ends and they have the time, they’ll all look for a place to live together.

And when Roman comes home, grumbling about how Remus found his own soulmates and Roman wasn’t at all involved, Logan will be there to chuckle about it.  

All of them will be.

[xadoheandterra]

Series: Semblance Title: Patriciate Fandom: Jak and Daxter Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII Characters: Jak, Daxter, Samos, Keira, Kid!Jak, Ashelin, Torn, Tess Tags: Worldbuilding, Accidentally King of Haven!Jak, hurt/comfort, things go wrong, things get better, things get worse again, slow build, slow burn, slow to update, cross posted, fantasy racism, canon divergence, been meaning to share this here Summary: “It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”

If Jak knew the consequences of that one, selfish choice…well, he’d probably have made the same decision either way.

Jak forgot something kind of important. At least it gave Torn time enough to get him presentable.

Daxter ducked between legs and strangers alike, scurrying along the ground on all four paws. He dashed quick from the port and used all of the little known side alleys that only three years in Haven could teach an ottsel. Two of those three years he’d worked hard to unearth and learn the layout by himself despite Haven’s insane size. It’d taken him the better part of the first year to just learn how to traverse the city at barely two feet tall; after all the distance Jak could travel at a dead run in an hour Daxter could barely achieve in three.

And he wants this damn thing pronto, Daxter grimaced to himself. Really buddy? It ain’t easy getting’ around by myself and it ain’t like I could ask anyone! I can’t even jack a damn zoomer, sheesh.

Sometimes Daxter felt like Jak could be so inconsiderate, taking his willingness to help a pal out for granted. Still Daxter persevered, and yeah maybe he realized after he’d finally reached the beginning of Main Town that he could’ve asked Tess for a ride but damn if Daxter weren’t determined to do this one his own by that point. Even still Daxter had a limit, and one that rapidly began to approach given how much his chest burned and his legs and arms hurt.

Jak’s just gonna hafta deal with me bein’ a bit late, Daxter reasoned to himself. I’ll make it up t’him later. He skittered to a halt over by the nearest bridge. His chest heaved as he flopped down against one of the rails supports, the small backpack that Tess had scrounged up for him to carry the key in thunked heavily against the ground. Exhaustedly Daxter brushed along the fringe of what would have once been his bangs to wipe away the sweat that had gathered. He grimaced at the feel of slick fur and resisted the urge to growl out of annoyance.

Sometimes he really hated being an Ottsel. The fur and two feet tall were prime reasons to resent the transformation, no matter how used to it he’d gotten. Daxter puffed out a breath and pressed his head back against the rail and closed his eyes.

“Ugh, why s’it gotta be so far?” Daxter grumbled to himself bitterly. He didn’t see the glances from the others who meandered around Main Town, going about their business, but he knew they were there. He’d gotten stares like that all the time, although the ones that he and Jak got together where by far the most hilarious of the lot.

“I think I found him.”

“Really? That small thing?”

“Well Commander Torn did say an orange rat, right?”

“I thought he was joking.”

Daxter opened one eye to look for the voices the minute he heard ‘Torn,’ a snarl on his lips. He wasn’t a rat Precursors damn it all! His gaze found a small trio of slightly armored teens that he vaguely recognized from the few times he and Jak spent more than a night at the Underground barracks.

“Oi!” Daxter yelled. He jumped to his feet, quite suddenly energized, hands on his hips. “It’s ottsel. O! T! T! S! E! L! Get it right, ya jerks!”

The three teens turned and shared a look before they seemed to nod in agreement. One of them approached and Daxter noted he wore some sort of half-KG mask. He vaguely remembered Tess had mentioned something about the Underground’s members were now forced to be recognizable since the metal head invasion.

“You Daxter?” the one on the left said. Her voice rang with the tinny quality that Daxter associated with the KG.

“Ya work for the Tattooed Wonder?” Daxter shot back, eyes narrowed and lips pulled down.

“Yeah it’s definitely him,” the one on the right said. He shot a side glance to the girl. The one in the middle, closest to Daxter, snorted disdainfully.

“This job sucks,” the middle one grumbled and turned his gaze away from Daxter to look instead at his companions. The one on the right’s eyes crinkled in the amused way and the one on the left looked like she was hiding a smile under that mask.

“What job? Searchin’ out the good ol’ Orange Lightning?” Daxter didn’t quite leer, but he did drawl out the words. At least two of them seemed decent.

The girl on the left laughed. “Definitely him. Come on, orange lightning. Commander Torn’s asked us to pick you up.”

“Said something about it taking too long,” the one on the right said.

“I still don’t get why we’re stuck with carrying this pet,” the middle one huffed.

“You can carry me anytime you like, gorgeous,” Daxter winked to the girl, who laughed good naturedly with the guy on the left while the middle one growled. “I’ve been lookin’ for a cute ride like you. I got one mean delivery I gotta get over pronto, y’know?”

“I might have heard,” she replied as she reached out a hand for Daxter. He quickly scurried over and then up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Damn is this what it feels like to be him?” she said almost reverently.

“All th’ time, babe,” Daxter nodded. “Now c’mon! I’ve wasted enough time huffin’ it by myself. Ol’ gravelly shoulda sent someone sooner.”

“We should just shoot it,” the middle one hissed.

“Aw, I like you too grumpy!” Daxter cooed back, face twisted into a sickly sweet grin.

“I’m gonna shoot it,” ‘grumpy’ snapped and reached for his gun.

The one on the right grasped his wrist before he could do anything and hissed, “Do you want to get on Commander Torn’s bad side?”

“But it’s annoying.”

“It,” Daxter said sharply, “is a he, and he happens to be the one who saved all your asses with his trusty sidekick Jak who just happens to be his best fuckin’ friend and can, y’know, get growly.”

Grumpy swallowed heavily and backed off at the look he received from his two partners.

“Told you,” the one on the right mumbled. “Bad idea, man.”

“Yeah,” Daxter agreed. “Listen to your conscience over here.”

“Fuck you,” grumpy spat.

‘Conscience,’ snorted a laugh in response.

“Funny,” Daxter’s current shoulder seat laughed softly. “Come on, we best hurry. We’re gathering a crowd.”

Grumpy and conscience exchanged glances, paled, and quickly began ushering their female compatriot onwards.

“Weren’t we supposed to not draw a crowd?” conscience uttered.

“Your fault,” grumpy spat.

“Oh hush,” Daxter interrupted, “and get movin’!”

All three started to run at that. Daxter relaxed against the gentle lull of a shoulder at full run, a wide grin across his face. Now he’d get there in a decent amount of time. He’d have to thank the Tattooed Wonder for giving him such a lovely ride, too. Daxter paused, then frowned, then wanted to cry at the realization he actually had to thank the asshole who called him a rat.

Torn stared at his communicator in faint horror, although Jak figured a good majority of that actually was for show. Torn had to be acutely aware of how uncomfortable this entire situation made the teen, give that Jak practically gouged his legs throughout a good chunk of the process. The act did serve to put Jak into a more comfortable mindset, comfortable enough that his eyes were black with dark eco—just tinged purple instead. His skin looked a bit paler than normal, but that could be associated to nerves rather than eco.

“Why is your rat insisting on riding one of my men up the elevator?” Torn’s voice practically squeaked at the end he wheezed so hard.

Jak scrubbed a hand through his now groomed, wrapped, and braided hair. It hung in twisted, braided dreadlocks that suited the young teen and at the same time felt like a punch to the gut. If Torn didn’t know that Jak happened to be the young kid he’d once looked after—and thus had to be related to the late King Damas—then the resemblance sure as hell would have told him as much. Granted Damas never did quite wear the locks as well as Jak could.

“Mar you have to have some Wastlander in you,” Torn muttered as he flopped onto the couch.

“What does that mean?” Jak blinked at the sudden non-sequitor.

“Your hair,” Torn waved a hand. “No Havenite can wear it like that so easily. You see it more on Wastelander’s than anything.”

Jak’s brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could get a word in about it Torn shifted and spoke up again.

“Seriously though what does that rodent think he’s doing anyway? He could put her at risk!”

“His name is Daxter,” Jak pointed out, “and he’s probably exhausted. I forgot how far Main Town is from the bar.” Jak leaned forward from his spot on the bed and scrubbed at his face. “He’s probably pissed about that. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Do you like him nagging you or something?” Torn quarried. When Jak didn’t answer at first the commander shifted to stare at the teen, concerned.

Jak sighed. “…sort of.” He licked his lips. “It’s…I didn’t speak for a long time, Torn. Dax talking…it’s normal.” He smiled fondly. “He spoke for the both of us.”

“He still does,” Torn grumbled.

“Yeah.”

Despite being an ottsel Daxter at his core didn’t change. Jak relished in that, relished in how much his friend still remained his friend because damn if he didn’t regret that accident so much. He opened his mouth to speak some more when a sharp rap at the door sounded throughout the room. Torn got to his feet and Jak likewise pulled himself up.

They shared a glance—looks like it was showtime. Jak got to his feet, Torn shortly behind him. Jak wanted to get the door, but Torn motioned for him to stay—they’d gone over, repeatedly, in the wait for Daxter to show up and in the time that Torn worked on his hair, how the people around Jak were expected to act. How Jak would be expected to act. While it sat wrong with him to hang back, he still let Torn take the lead and open the door.

This whole insane plane hinged on Jak, after all, and if he didn’t show the right response at the right time then any credibility as being the last heir to the House of Mar wouldn’t matter. It grated to act like some damned nobleman when first and foremost Jak was anything but; still he waited, anxiously as evidenced by the slight shift from foot to foot. Torn slipped the door open, took one look out into the hallway, and sighed in relief.

“Ashelin,” Torn greeted sharply, and stepped back.

“Commander,” Ashelin responded in kind. She stepped into the room first, behind her followed an Underground fighter with Daxter perched precariously on her shoulder. Jak zeroed in on his best friend, and a small nervous smile flittered across his face.

No one said anything at first, or at least no one but Daxter and Jak. Jak’s little twitches—almost completely unnoticeable—clued Daxter into the bigger picture within a minute. The conversation went on much longer than that though, with an ever growing darker expression on Daxter’s face. The ottsel glanced between Jak, Torn, and Ashelin with a scowl until Ashelin couldn’t take it anymore.

“What!?” the young Praxis heiress snapped out. She looked to Torn for back up, but Torn refused to respond. He’d seen the silent communication in action too much to even attempt to counteract it.

“Nothin’,” Daxter said eventually after a pleading look from Jak and a slightly pulled face. “We’ve got a show to get on the road, right?”

“What do you mean we?” Ashelin demanded. “You were just delivery—”

“I ain’t leavin’ Jak to deal with just you,” Daxter shot back, “and my ride here ain’t either. We’re both goin’ an’ you’ll just hafta deal there princess. You roped Jak into this thing and ya better handle the consequences. We’re a pair an’ that is that.”

Jak smiled.

“Dax’s always had my back, Ashelin,” he said softly. “Besides, as I understand it if I just walk in with the Ruby Key they’re going to demand how a priceless artifact integral to this city’s history just so happened to disappear and then reappear with the House of Mar.”

Torn smiled, and nodded once in approval when Jak glanced his way. He spoke up to catch Ashelin’s attention. “Look at that Ashe, the kid has a knack for this,” he teased for a second before he added seriously, “He has a point and you know it. Especially when you know it was this very council that ousted the last King we had.”

“That was my father—” Ashelin counteracted, only to be cut off with a look.

“It might have been your father,” Torn said carefully, “but even your father can’t intimidate the other sage lines. At least three quarters of them had to be in agreement. Not to mention the other minor noble houses.”

Ashelin bit her lip, frustrated, but she had to admit Torn was right. Although neither of them had been there for the original banishment of the House of Mar, they both knew the aftermath intimately enough. Still—Ashelin turned toward Daxter and with a sharp look assessed the situation.

“You can’t just waltz in with the Ruby Key, either,” Ashelin pointed out. “You’re too involved with Jak.”

“Ah, but I’m involved officially as of this past year,” Daxter pointed out slyly. Jak didn’t bother to fight down his smile as Ashelin blinked in slight surprise and Daxter continued barreling on, head held high. “In fact I was quite the respected bug hunter up until the business went up in smoke; I merely stumbled across this here puppy,” Daxter patted his bag, “without knowin’ what it was. I’m just a poor ottsel—we’re not taught Haven’s history.”

“If anything Dax only realized what the Ruby Key was after he and I got involved,” Jak added softly, and completely convincingly. Any protest left Ashelin.

Torn glanced at them, then asked, “How will you explain your closeness?”

“How do you explain a soul brother?” Daxter shot back full of complete self-confidence.

“We click,” Jak shrugged, and it was the honest truth—he and Daxter had always just clicked like that.

Torn appraised them for a second more—and almost let out an amused snort when he realized the soldier before him was still star-struck and drooling; kids these days—before he nodded sharply. He turned to Ashelin and said, “They’re good.”

Ashelin looked ready to protest, so Torn stepped up to her and grabbed her shoulders. “They’re good, Ashe,” he said sharply. “Trust me.” It took a second longer before Ashelin let out an explosive breath. They’d wasted enough time already on this whole mess, and so with a sharp turn she motioned for the group to follow.

“Look alive soldier,” Torn said under his breath to the young girl. She jerked, flushed, and then straightened her back and fell into step just behind Jak.

[head-full-of-things]

‘With Great Power...’ teaser, a secret santa gift

Hey guys! I'm in @bazwillendinflames LIS2 Secret Santa.

I got the amazing Stef aka @ladyofthecreed. Your request was for wholesome Daniel and Sean on the road to Karen's comminity after ep 4, but I saw how sad you were after ep 5 and Redemption so I wanted to cheer you up, as well as all of us who got it, with something more fun.  Of course it started as fun and then I actually started writing and it also made me cry haha

The basic premise is 16 year old Daniel post Redemption, who decided to use his powers for good and becomes the superhero of Beaver Creek! This is a scene, a sneak peek if you will, from the fic. I'm posting the sneak peek here for you guys, and when the full fic comes up I'll post it here as well as on AO3.

And @bazwillendinflames thank you so much for organizing this! It's a really cool activity for the fandom. Oh and for giving me a gift fic of course

I hope you'll like it 😊

Note - before this scene Daniel saves his classmate with his powers.

-----

It was the longest, most confusing three days of Daniel’s life, as he had to wait until Tuesday, which is visitation day, to finally talk to Sean and tell him what happened. He spent them doing what he usually did—schoolwork, hanging out with Chris (who kept asking him to repeat every detail of what happened, writing it all down in his notes app), and helping his grandparents. But while usually it was more than enough to fill his days, now he found it couldn’t calm this feeling that was threatening to blow up inside of him. He saved Jason’s life. This brought him back to when he was thirteen at that school trip, when he lifted the school bus enough for it to get away from that cliff. It’s strange, when he first got these powers, on the run with Sean, he used to thinking about them as mostly as a way to destroy or attack. Sure, in his time in Haven Point Lisbeth told him it was a gift, that he was meant to do good in the world, but that woman was badshit crazy so it doesn’t really count. And after he got back to Beaver Creek, he did his best to hide them. But now he used them for good, and he really liked this feeling. 

So yeah, he couldn’t wait to tell Sean, but he also felt terrible fear washing over him every time he thought about actually telling him. How is he supposed to just go there and say: ’Hi bro, remember how you sacrificed the best years of your life so that I wouldn’t be in trouble with the law? Well funny story…’

And so he waited for Tuesday to come but also hoped it’d never come.

Time worked as usual though. The day arrived, and Daniel once again took the bus to prison. When he met Sean he kept quiet. Sean didn’t seem to notice his nervousness though, they spoke for a few minutes, about Daniel’s school life and how the big test went. Then Sean told him a joke that he heard from his cell mate Carl four days ago. He kept laughing as he was trying to tell it. Daniel thought that still laughing about a joke four days later seemed like too much. But who knows, maybe he was just too stressed at the moment to appreciate it.

He sneaked a look at the guard, who again was completely immersed in his game on the phone and not paying attention to anything that went on in front of him. This was his shot. He leaned closer to Sean and spoke quietly: “Listen, I gotta tell you something.”

Sean’s eyes lifted. “Yeah?”

He told him the events of what happened, and as he did a big smile rose on Sean’s face. Daniel expected shock or maybe fear from him, but certainty not the amused look he gave him.

“Wait… You don’t look surprised.”

“Well, we had a TV hour at the cafeteria. ’Local teen saved under mysterious circumstances. Only clue to the identity of his saviour is a drawing of a wolf found at scene.’ Dude that shot with the drawing on the floor was on loop the whole day,” he said with a laugh, keeping his voice low.

Daniel grimaced. “Oh man. So why didn’t you tell me you knew? Let me talk about the Algebra test for an hour like an idiot.”

“Look I just… Didn’t want you to feel you have to tell me. It’s your superpower after all. You’re grown now, and I know I’m not that much a main figure in your life anymore, with me being here, and....”

He frowned. “Don’t. Say. That. Ever. Do you hear me? We’re the wolf brothers remember? It’s forever. Plus you know that if it wasn’t for your help with my power back then, I wouldn’t have a clue how to control them in the first place.”

Sean gave him half a smile.

He smiled too. But he had to ask him a question, and he did, barely getting the words out of his mouth. “Sean, are you disappointed at me?”

Sean’s eyebrows went up. “What? Why?”

“I mean, you practically gave up everything in order for me to have a normal life, and here I am putting it all in danger. I mean look at what happened, I wasn’t careful enough and now I’m all over the news.”

“Why would I be? This is the most publicity a drawing of mine ever got,” he laughed, but stopped when he saw Daniel’s very not amused face. “I’m not disappointed of you Daniel, I’m proud, because you put your secret in risk to protect someone who needed help. You’re a good person.”

He let out the air he was holding.

“You know, when we were on the run and I found out you had this crazy power, I have to say I was terrified. Not of you, but… Of the responsibility, I guess. Remember when you took that hula doll from Brody? I understood then that you were looking to me on how to behave. I was so busy with keeping you alive and well taken care of that I didn’t even realise that with Dad gone, I also need to teach you those kinds of things. And with the… Added flavor of you having a power that could blow up anything in the thirty feet radius, I knew that if I fucked that up, it would have bigger consequences than when other people do a bad job raising their kids. But at the end of the day, I did a pretty good job if I can say so myself.” He smiled and let a small laugh. “And what you did yesterday? It just proves that to me even more. And it also proves to me that I made the right choice that day… At the border.”

That day at the border they almost never spoke about it, and when they did Sean always said it in a hushed, soft tone. Just hearing these words brought back the feeling—the heat on his skin from the bright sun, and the tears on his face. The sound of the sirens that didn’t fucking stop to let them think, or say goodbye properly. And more than anything, the great love he felt for Sean, that his body was almost too small to contain.

It was their last moment together alone, without an annoying person standing a few meters from them to make sure they don’t get too close. 

Sean gave up everything for him, and hearing that he doesn’t regret it… Shit he didn’t realize how much he needed to hear it until now. He felt tears stuck in his throat as he said “All this time I was so afraid Sean, that you…”

“Shh, it’s ok,” Sean said. They leaned forward so that their foreheads touched, and stayed like this for a while. While still being like this, Sean continued speaking softly, making sure the guard still doesn’t hear them. “Daniel I need you to know, that I didn’t do this for you to have a normal life. I did it for you to have your life. I knew you needed a family, a stable environment and school. A friend like Chris. I wanted you to not have to fight anymore, or use your power for me or anyone else. Only if you do it by your own choice.”

He nodded, lifting his head to look at Sean with tears in his eyes.

“I also told you that day to remember who you are. Remember? So don’t try to be what Grandma wants you to be. Don’t even try to be what I want you to be, ok enano? Be yourself.”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m not even sure I know who that is anymore.”

Sean looked him straight in the eyes. “Not anymore. Yet.” When they noticed that the guard saw them being so close and lifted his sight from his phone to watch what they’re doing they separated, Sean’s sending a hand to ruffle Daniel’s hair a bit as he pulled away.

“You guys got 5 more minutes!” the guard called, and they both sighed. There was something else that he had to tell Sean, so he had to say it now. “Sean, I think I liked it. Using my…”—He had to be careful in what he says now—”Skills for good. I want to do it again.” Now that he said that he realised that, In a way, he knew this since the moment he saved Jason, or maybe somehow all these years in Beaver Creek.

Sean leaned forward. “Alright, what do you want to do then?”

“Well I’ve been thinking, maybe I could take a tour around the town once in a while, see if anybody needs help. And if they do, help them in a sneaky way so they won’t see me.”

“Like superhero patrol?” ??

He laughed. “Yeah, or something like that.” He thought about it for a second. “Man, Chris is going to freak out when he hears this. But imagine if Grandma finds out, she won’t let me leave the room for maybe… A whole year.” 

“Don’t worry, it was pretty easy for me because I know about your powers. You can count on one finger really the amount of people who even know about your power,  not to mention that you live here. As long as it stays like that you’re safe. Just… Promise me that whatever superhero shenanigans you’re doing, you’ll be more careful from now on, alright?”

They’ve had their share of promises between them on the year of their journey to Mexico. Every promise Sean made to him he tried to keep, so Daniel was going to take this promise seriously. He nodded. “I promise.”

They stood up and hugged, Daniel once again trying to take as much of Sean as he can, and as Sean went back to his cell, being led by the guard, he turned around and told him “I believe in you enano. I love you.”

“Love you bro,” he yelled back.

On his way out of the facility the sky was black but full of stars. Grandma always said that you can see the stars here in a way you simply can’t in the big city.  Karen said it was true, but you can see a lot more in the desert. But today Daniel focused on something else. As the bus got to the station and he took a seat, he spent the whole ride smiling and looking at the distant lights that he knew came from Beaver Creek, the town he was going to protect.

[sawyer-saucee]

If You Had The Chance To Change Your Fate...

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Words: 3,992

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Pairings: Rociet, fatherly logince, fatherly lociet, platonic anxciet, brief brotherly mociet (blink and you miss it)

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, panic (but no panic attacks), mentions of breakups/divorce, a good hearty dose of Deceit’s potty mouth (swearing), arguing, mentions of Nazis (as in, our boys hate them)

Summary: Devon Lee, a hopeless romantic who would never admit to it, and Roman Adelio, a man who’s long since given up on love, are destined to be together. Will fate do its job correctly, or will the pair defy the ides of fortune?

A/N: This is a story I wrote for @quoth-the-sparrow​!!!! It took longer than I intended because it ended up being a monster of a story (originally it was only going to be around 1,000 words of pure fluff, but we can all see how that turned out), so dad, I hope you like it! (And I hope everyone else likes it too!) <3

10 years, 4 months, 13 days, 11 hours, and 58 minutes. That was how long Devon Lee had been waiting for his soulmate. As a child, he’d always assumed the world was colorless, and that everyone saw it the way that he did. But, as it had been explained to him by his older brother Patton when he was nine years old, eventually, when you found that one person who was destined to be your perfect match, your world would change. It was hard to explain how when Dee couldn’t even begin to visualize what this “color” Patton spoke of looked like, but his brother made it sound so appealing. “Dee,” He’d said, “You know that feeling you feel when your favorite TV show comes on at just the right time? Or… oh! Or that feeling when someone gets you the perfect gift?” And Dee had nodded as Patton grinned and said, “That’s what the world looks like when you find your soulmate.”

So, ever since that moment 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes ago now, Devon had been waiting. And waiting. And waiting. At a certain point he quite honestly had become sick of waiting and had renounced the prospect of soulmates as a whole, but deep inside his chest there had always been a longing that he would never admit to - a secret timer keeping track of the 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes that he’d been waiting. Not that he was counting or anything.

Roman Adelio, on the other hand, didn’t believe in soulmates, not one bit. He hadn’t since the moment his mother had walked out the scuffed front door of the house he’d grown up in, leaving him behind with only a father with the words, “Have you seen a pair of blue ballet slippers anywhere?” tattooed on his chest and the knowledge that even though the first words of his mother were permanently etched onto his father’s skin, that hadn’t stopped them from falling apart. He never wanted to be like them. So, he took the whole theory if Occam’s razor to heart and decided that the simplest explanation was that love was simply a fraud that he would never participate in.

…12 years, 6 months, 24 days 12 hours, and 9 minutes.

That was how long it had been since Roman had given up on love.

His skin was devoid of cheesy first word tattoos, and he was determined to keep it that way.

— — — — —

“Dee, come on, you’re 5 minutes late for your meet-and-greet already!” Virgil, Dee’s ever-so-irritable manager called from ten feet in front of the tardy YouTuber. Devon sighed and propelled himself forward with slightly more urgency, the tires of his wheelchair squeaking over the tiled floor.

“We’re not late, we’re simply rebelling against the society-imposed definition of punctuality,” he deadpanned, rolling past Virgil through to the outside of the building. “I, for one, think it’s an inspiring display of anarchy.”

“You know, it’s real funny to see you playing hard to get when you’re already hard enough to like.” Virgil huffed in response, giving the back of Dee’s chair a playful shove to get him going faster. The man laughed and deliberately slowed down, thereby causing Virgil to let out a sort of half distressed croak/half irritated groan. It was terribly amusing, to say the least. After a moment of tense silence broken only by Virgil’s incessant nerve-amplified echolalia, (“An- anarch- anarchy- anarchy- fuck…”), the manager finally snapped.

“That’s it, I’m going ahead. I’ll let the fans know you’re gonna be late, but you’d better hurry your ass up and get over there, okay? You have five minutes before I flip my fucking lid, Dee.”

“That sounds entertaining, maybe I’ll take my time just for that!”

“You have a goddamn death wish, I swear to god!” Virgil yelled as he took off sprinting towards the building they were overdue at. Dee chuckled and kept rolling along, enjoying how warm the sun was that day. His friends often joked that he was cold-blooded for how intolerant he was to the cold and… in truth, he wouldn’t deny it. It fit his aesthetic.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…” As the wind picked up, Dee noticed the voice that it was carrying with it. He didn’t believe in magical creatures like sirens, and yet his first thought upon hearing that voice was that no human could possibly sing so beautifully. The song was meant for a high voice, like the princess in the movie, but somehow the rich bass tones of the voice he was hearing brought the melody new life. In other words, he would allow this man to step on him, no questions asked. Dee’s vivid gray eyes - well, he had no idea if they were actually gray, because everything else was, too, but regardless - scanned the grassy courtyard he was going past and eventually landed on the shape of a man twirling around in the center of the yard. He was just as attractive as his voice was, further solidifying Devon’s resolve to allow this man to step on him. The wheels on his chair protested as he rolled into the grass, but Dee was so mesmerized by the image of this tall, lanky - was that a dress he was wearing? - unabashedly effeminate man that he hardly noticed the barrage of bumps.

Dee blinked, finding his vision going a bit blurry all of a sudden. Dots began flashing in front of his vision as he drew closer to the man, and he shook his head, absently dismissing it as an effect of jet lag. As he neared the man, getting close enough to make out details like the spattering of freckles all over his body, the light streak in his otherwise dark hair, even the collection of bandaids scattered all over his body, a sure indicator that he was either clumsy (he had so much limb for just one man, after all) or just plain reckless, Dee noticed something that he wasn’t sure how to explain. A change in the man’s face. The grays he’d spent his whole life staring at were morphing into something unrecognizable, and-

“Holy goddamn motherfucking shit…”

— — — — —

Roman clamped his mouth shut and turned to face whoever had just ever-so-rudely thrown off his groove. The courtyard had been blissfully empty for the first time that day and though he loved his fans as much as they loved him, a moment alone to sing had been a welcome intermission. Especially since he’d been around so many people bragging about their soulmates all day.

It was to be expected, of course, since Roman’s YouTube channel was dedicated to music and he sang love songs almost exclusively, but people introducing their soulmates to him still made him uneasy. All of the “We met because we were both fans of you!” And “Our first words were lyrics from your song, look!” Were sweet, of course, but still…unnerving. Every time he saw those tattoos he was that eight-year-old kid again, watching everything he loved slip away.

And now that his moment of solitude had been interrupted, he wasn’t gonna lie - he was more than a little irritated

“Excuse me, I was singing here!” He protested, placing his hands on his hips and sticking out his bottom lip in an indignant pout. Foot tapping fervently on the grass, he waited for the man’s response - a man who, Roman noted, was far more attractive than he had any right to be. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, though one had flecks of gold ringing the pupil. Roman hadn’t even known that was possible, he’d only ever seen characters in his favorite books described that way. Aside from that, his hair was an array of sloppily dyed and removed colors, with gray fading into yellow and then into purple and pink and blue and bleached-out blonde… it was like the guy had just grabbed whatever random boxes of dye he could reach and went nuts. It was cute, though. A large wine-stain birthmark made his fairytale-esque golden eye stand out even more and wow was Roman gay. That didn’t change the fact that he was tempted to go full Kuzco on this guy. He felt a pinch on his neck and winced, bringing his hand up to rub at it while he continued, “It’s not very polite to interrupt a man in the middle of a serenade!”

The man’s face remained blank and he blinked a few times, his hands tap-tap-tapping on the rubber wheels of his wheelchair.

“…I’m going to be real here, a moment ago I was annoyed but now I’m a little creeped-”

“You’re my soulmate,” The man whispered, so quietly that Roman wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. He hoped he hadn’t heard him right.

“…What? You-”

“You’re my soulmate!” The man shouted, eyes lighting up. “My brother once told me that seeing color was beautiful, but I never quite understood what he meant until now!” A moment of silence passed between them, and just as Roman was about to open his mouth to say that no, there must be a mistake, he didn’t even have a tattoo- “I’d apologize for the tattoo, but I find it rather funny that you have  “holy goddamn motherfucking shit” permanently etched into your skin.”

Roman let out a fearful squeak as he fumbled to pull out his phone and check his face in the camera. His cheeks and forehead were clear, nothing on his arms…he was almost ready to berate the man for lying when he noticed the dark words written in clunky, nearly illegible cursive on his neck. ‘Holy goddamn motherfucking shit.’

“…What?” This made no sense at all. He didn’t even know what to say. This man seemed nice and all, but Roman had promised himself he would never let this happen to him. There must have been some kind of mistake. “I don’t… I don’t have a soulmate!” He blurted stupidly, rubbing at the writing on his neck.

Dee squinted, confused. “…Right, of course you don’t. It isn’t like the first words I said to you just appeared on your neck and I can see color now, something that only happens once you find your soulmate or anything. But you know. Of course I’m not your soulmate.”

“No, I-” Roman stammered, falling back a step. “I-I- I don’t have a soulmate. And even if I do, I don’t want one!”

“Don’t…” Dee blinked, trying to process what this man, his soulmate, had just said to him. After all this time… he’d waited 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 24 minutes for this? A guy who wanted nothing to do with him? “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Look, you seem nice and all, but I-”

“No no no, I did not wait ten years for this-“

“Oh, so you expected your soulmate to just fall all over you the moment you met him? To sweep you away and live out a happily ever after with you? Is that it? Well, I’m sorry to destroy your fantasy, but I don’t do love, okay?”

A sigh broke past Devon’s lips as he crossed his arms, leaning forward to catch Roman’s eyes. “Geez, who the hell hurt you?” He asked flippantly, somehow missing the way the man’s face paled. “The universe matched us at birth and you’re not even going to speak to me?”

“The universe is bullshit!” Roman yelled, catching Devon off guard. “It’s all a fucked-up system that I don’t want to be a part of! I’m not letting some metaphysical Tinder ruin my life again!”

Among all of that dramatic ranting, one word stood out to Dee. “…Again?”

Roman blinked, mentally running back through everything he’d said. “I…” Dee noticed how hard his voice was shaking. “Just leave me alone. Please.” He whispered desperately, turning on his heel and sprinting away.

Dee watched the man run, the heeled boots he was wearing clacking against the smooth concrete like a heartbeat.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

That man was his soulmate.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

He wanted nothing to do with Dee… and there was a reason why. Something that man hadn’t been able to say. He knew it.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

But most importantly…

Ba-dum, ba-dum, creaaaak- the door of the nearest building opened and shut, the man’s face appearing once through the glass and then disappearing down a long hallway.

Someone had hurt him, and under no circumstances would Devon stand for that. With new resolve, he started painstakingly wheeling himself across the grass to follow his strange, sad new soulmate.

— — — — —

The moment Roman heard the door he’d run through shut behind him, he pushed into the closest bathroom and collapsed under the sinks. This was not possible by any stretch of the imagination. He’d come here to this goddamn con to have a good time and meet his fans and now he was, about to cry in a bathroom because some excited, well-meaning guy had come up to him and told him something that anyone else would be happy about. He let out a choked sob and covered his eyes, employing his fingers as little dams to keep the waterworks in. Going back out there with swollen eyes and a red nose was not an option.

What were his options, then? Avoid this guy for the rest of his life, not only subjecting himself to the constant fear of running into him again but the guilt of knowing that he’d deprived this guy of his (supposedly) one true partner, or accept it and live in constant fear of it all falling apart? He couldn’t do this right now. Hell, he couldn’t do this ever, what was meant to be the happiest moment of his life was making him feel things he hadn’t felt in years, things he’d never wanted to feel again.

“Anyone in here?” A voice called out, muffled through the flimsy wooden door of the bathroom.

“No!” Roman called back, mentally kicking himself for that stupid move.

“Good to know,” The voice replied, growing clearer as whoever it was pushed the door open. Roman heard the couple grunts and the squeak of rubber on tile, looking up for not even half a second to see his soulmate struggling to get the heavy wooden door open while his wheelchair kept rolling backward from the force of him pushing. “Stupid broken brakes…”

“What are you doing here?” Roman snarled, hastily wiping his eyes and retreating back further into the corner.

His soulmate shrugged as nonchalantly as a person could while fighting with a door, saying, “You seemed upset.”

“Yeah, because of you.” What was this guy’s problem? “I told you to leave me alone!”

“Well, I once told my brother that I wouldn’t come home from school until Aladdin came to pick me up on his magic carpet. We can’t all have what we want- a-ha!” He finally won the battle with the door, letting it shut behind him with a triumphant click! “Now, I believe we skipped some pleasantries. I’m Devon Lee. Or Dee, if you’d prefer. I didn’t catch your name.”

The bathroom went silent save for the shaky breathing of someone trying to stop crying and water echoing through the pipes overhead. Exchanging names would mean this man knew him. This man, with his mismatched eyes and crazy hair and obnoxiously bright yellow-and-green wheelchair (and people thought Roman was extra), would have a name to associate with his face. That would not do.

“I didn’t throw it.”

The excitement that flickered to life in Devon’s eyes was unexpected, and Roman nearly flinched when the man burst out, “Oh my god, that was not a Heathers reference!”

He got that? Most people only understood when he quoted the songs, not the script. “You know Heathers?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s not like I’m a die-hard musical theatre fan or anything.” Dee laughed, a sound that made Roman think of bubbles. “Heathers, Waitress, Hamilton, Rent, Sound of Music, you name it, I know-”

“You like the Sound of Music?” Roman gasped. He pushed himself up off the floor, forgetting for a moment why he was so upset. “Most people I bring it up to tell me it’s a girl’s show.”

Dee grinned. His smile was pearly white, though Roman didn’t miss the shiny gold teeth in place of his incisors. A brilliant smile, shiny gold fangs, a love of musical theatre almost as obsessive as Roman’s… what didn’t this guys have?

“Girl’s show?” He scoffed. “Please, gender is meaningless and Julie Andrews’s voice is a spiritual experience anyone would be blessed to hear.”

“Yes! Finally!” His hands twitched as he resisted the urge to happy-flap them. “I must know, though, who’s your favorite character?”

Dee pursed his lips, tugging thoughtfully at his hair for a moment before answering, “Leisl. I admire her capacity for deception.”

“Oh? You’re a fan of deception?” Roman’s eyebrows rose, and the fear that he’d forgotten about in the wave of that’s-my-hyperfixaiton joy bobbed back up to the surface like a shell being tossed around in the sea. “…why not Rolf, then? He was a classic liar, and a talented one too.”

“Rolf?” Dee folded over cackling, clutching his stomach as he fought to speak through incredulous giggles. “He was a Nazi! Not to mention that he betrayed Leisl, the girl who loved him, by trying to get her family murdered. You must think so little of me to even imagine that I could admire him!”

Though Dee kept laughing, Roman had long since fallen silent. This wasn’t okay. He wasn’t supposed to connect with Devon - or… well, technically he was supposed to, but he didn’t want to, even if the guy liked the Sound of Music and understood his Heather’s reference and had come after him when he was upset, even if Dee was attractive and seemed funny and kind… even if he appeared to be everything Roman had ever wished for, there was too much of a risk. Maybe Devon would expect too much or they’d have a long relationship until one day Roman’s heart was broken.

‘And I call myself brave,’ Roman’s mind scolded him. ‘Roman ‘Never Runs From a Challenge’ Adelio, a coward since the year of his birth, 1999.’

“Look, Devon…” he began. Dee stopped laughing immediately, turning to face Roman with a kind of intensity he’d never seen before. “I… you seem nice, but… I don’t… the rest of my life can’t be dictated by this,” his nails trailed over the tattoo. “I’ve seen the aftermath. It… it’s not good.”

Now, it was Devon’s turn to go quiet. Or it would have been, if he weren’t such a loudmouth. “Alright, I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from,” Carefully, he rolled forward. “And I… while I want a soulmate, it wouldn’t be right for me to force you to have me. All I ask is this.”

Roman cowered at those words. Something bad always came after ‘all I ask.’ What would he want? His number? Sex? Something worse?

“Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”

“…What?”

Devon smiled, repeating clearly, “Would you like to go on a date sometime?”

“I-” Had Devon not heard anything he’d just said? “I said I don’t… s-soulmates aren’t something I-”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand. Ignore the tattoo, ignore the colors thing, that never happened. I like you, no-name kid. You seem kind and genuine, not to mention that you’re a thespian and seem to be haunted by the ghosts of your past-” Roman laughed despite himself. “-all things I find incredibly attractive. Soulmate or not, I’d like to get to know you better. So, that said,” Devon folded his hands in his lap, sitting back and smiling that million-watt, gold-fanged smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

And in that moment, that 15 seconds where he was faced with a choice he’d always dreaded having to make, Roman felt his racing heartbeat begin to slow. The panic-induced adrenaline drained from his system and he let out a heaving sigh. He still had two choices, but those choices had changed now. It was no longer a matter of fate. No longer a choice between being guilty or trapped. It was now option A) Go on a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked, or B) Turn down a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked. Well, Roman may have been a stubborn ass sometimes, but he was also incredibly gay.

“…You know what? Okay. One date.” Roman huffed, bouncing a red converse-clad foot on the tile floor.

“Excellent! I only need one more thing from you.”

“Oh?” Roman smirked, “Well, ask away.”

“Would you mind tossing your name now?”

Roman opened his mouth to acquiesce before promptly snapping it shut with a sly little smile and pulling a paper towel from the dispenser over the sink. “Sure thing.” A moment later, a slightly-crumpled tissue landed on Dee’s lap as Roman walked past. “I’ll see you around, Devon.”

Dee hastily smoothed out the paper, finding two lines of text written in broad, loopy block letters.

Roman Adelio

+1 618-0339-8875

“I can’t wait, Roman.”

— — — — —

“And that, my son, is how I met your father!” Roman finished with a flourish, wrapping his arms around Dee’s neck from his place on his husband’s lap. Logan, the ever-curious 7-year-old that he was, clung to Devon’s leg and asked,

“But why did you accept Pa’s date if you didn’t want a soulmate?”

Roman smiled, pulling his son up onto his and Dee’s lap (and chuckling as Devon shoved the pair of them off). “Well, your father was against nazis, so how could I say no?”

“…Daddy, that can’t be where the bar is.”

“It isn’t!” Devon was quick to cut in, playfully smacking Roman on the arm. “What are you teaching our small, impressionable child, Roman?”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Roman yielded. His teasing expression softening as he gazed at Devon. “In truth, I still think soulmates are complete bullsh-” One glare from Devon washed his mouth out. “-I mean, completely fake. Logan, my little piece of stardust, listen to me.” He gathered the small boy in his arms, feeling his tiny heartbeat against his chest. “It is you and you alone who decides who you’re meant to be with. If that person is your soulmate, then that’s beautiful. If not, it’s just as beautiful to love someone else. Do you understand?”

Logan looked up into his father’s eyes, letting a small smile spread across his face before nodding. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good,” With a sigh, Roman stood, planting a tender kiss on Devon’s lips as he did so. “You know, my dear,” He whispered, leaning his forehead against Devon’s. “I may not believe in soulmates, but perhaps, to some extent, I believe in fate.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, my darling, that soulmates or not…I know I was meant to be with you.”

“Daddy! Pa! Gross!” Logan whined, wedging himself in between his fathers in a truly archaic act of rebellion.

Devon laughed, pushing himself off of his chair to make a wiggly little cuddle pile on the floor. The three of them fit together like long-lost puzzle pieces, each from different puzzles but all cut from the same mold. They may not have been what they were “supposed” to be, but they were still able to make something truly beautiful.

And that was enough.

[artificialqueens]

i know (rajila) - queenraja

A/N: please don’t ask me to describe what this is i wrote it at 5am this morning with no sleep, didn’t sleep until i finished 2k of angst, and there’s been no edit. basically, raja & manila current day at some sort of event ft. angst bc i am That Bitch.

this is my second (2nd) time writing rpf & my first time writing in the drag race fandom, so please be kind. i only started watching drag race last week, so i’m definitely not the expert, but i have binged tons of content. please let me know what you think & leave some feedback, i’d really appreciate it!

content warning!!!  angst like whoa, explicit language, mentions of anorexia & self harm, just general some darker depression themes ( aka i project what’s new )

love, ant <3

“Fuck!”

Sworn to a frustrated reflection, staring blankly back at her in the mirror, and, unfortunately, overheard by a passing Manila in the hall. Her footsteps went unheard on the cement ground despite their loud echoing, which stilled quickly at the outburst, pausing just beyond the doorway to peak in and see what had caused it.

The culprit? A shaking hand, bearing the weight of a mascara wand that had slipped and missed, and stabbed just down below, where cheekbones gave way to softer skin, darker skin where sleepless nights pooled. 

Raja bore her teeth together, and shoved hair- grey, she reminded herself- out of her face as she bent over, closer to the mirror, close enough that breath could fog, taking a napkin to begin to scrub. Here, the foundation didn’t cover wrinkles, pressed from years of smiling and crying and laughing- mostly crying. So close, she could see the way fat seemed to cling to her bones, underneath her jaw that was becoming less and less defined, and she’d fucked up the contour on her stupid crooked nose and-

“You’re going to make yourself bleed.” Raja froze, tissue hovered just over her cheek from where she’d been wiping, and while she didn’t move, she dared to flick her eyes up to where Manila entered now, revealing her hiding place.

There was no response, just a silence that hung for a moment, and Raja couldn’t figure why. It could’ve been a joke. Easily, she could’ve cracked a smile at her old friend, and stood up, and greeted her. Manila was fully dressed; a 50’s polka dot hoop skirt, as put together as always, and not a stitch out of place. They had hours to go until the filming started, and yet, she looked ready to pounce in front of the audience in a heartbeat. Raja exhaled, looked back to the tissue, which had successfully pilled up with balls of mascara, foundation, paper from the rubbing. 

“You don’t go through this many years of drag without getting thick skin,” she responded, trying for a joke at least, still facing the mirror.

“I mean, look how red you’ve made your skin,” Manila ignored her, speaking quietly, coming to her side. They weren’t touching, but they could’ve been. Manila’s perfectly manicured nails hovered just above a thin, tattoo’d arm, as if asking her to oblige, her eyes not leaving Raja’s face for a second.

Raja straightened her back slightly, eyes focused again on the mirror, on Manila’s face, so perfect, watching her. Giving her the time of day. It sank so deep in her chest, past her heart, past her ribs, that for a moment, she thought she could barely breathe, she might choke on it. Her own nails, black and chipped, a bit, clutched tighter at the tissue in her hand. 

“It’s alright,” she assured, just over a whisper. “I just forgot what I was doing for a second.”

Raja didn’t know what she was arguing against. That she hadn’t done it on purpose? Did Manila believe that? That she had wanted to-? One flick up at Manila’s face in the mirror, at painted brows that had furrowed down, and Raja knew the answer. Manila’s hand made the rest of the painstaking journey down to Raja’s skin, and her palm was so warm, so soothing, so comforting. 

Raja forced another exhale out. Well, she hadn’t, had she? There was no reason to be worried, was there?

“Sit down,” Manila gestured decisively to the stool, tucked away under the dressing room counter with her other hand, and then ventured a smile. “Let’s get your face finished, girl. You can’t go out looking like that.”

“I can-“

“Sit down.” And it wasn’t an option, anymore. 

Raja’s eyebrows arched high, and she nodded, breaking away from the solace of Manila’s presence just long enough to drag the stool out, and sit, obediently in front of her, waiting. Manila didn’t even hesitate, leaning in with all the poise and practice of a professional, foundation cream gliding over the area that Raja had scrubbed away. For a moment, Raja let herself relax, let her eyes close patiently; but shoulders remained tight, and upright, and elegance of a model, someone who was always a model.

After a heartbeat, as she turned to cap the foundation cream, Manila spoke: “So, you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Well, we’re gonna talk about it.”

She began to sponge away at Raja’s face, gentle, firm. Raja hardly even managed a sigh, that constricted feeling returning, swelling up in her throat, in her chest. Lucky she had her eyes closed.

She knew she shouldn’t let her face break, not while Manila was working; she knew she shouldn’t let even a sign of anything pull through. It was unprofessional, it was selfish, it was stupid. Her eyebrows still pinched together, though, to keep everything together, like duct tape on a dam. Immediately, that feeling began to burn, and she felt it strangle in her voice as she said, again: “No.”

Movements stopped on her face; it was unprofessional to move, she thought, she was a model, she knew she shouldn’t have broken, she shouldn’t have ruined it. Instead she felt fingers move tenderly to her jawline, a startling feeling that nearly made her jump.

“Raja, hey,” Manila’s voice came through again, so quiet, so soft, so… so worried. Raja didn’t open her eyes, feeling the tightness only worsen. It was selfish to make Manila- her friend- worry about her, to do all this. She was a winner, wasn’t she? She was supposed to do all this on her own, she shouldn’t need help, she shouldn’t need anything. Manila tried again, her voice even softer, fingers lifting Raja’s face up- and she didn’t know she’d even dropped it down. “Hey, look at me.”

For a moment, she couldn’t. She was too afraid of letting the tears spill through if she did, and then they would have to start over again- no, wait. That was stupid, to assume that Manila would even still want to help her. She would have to start over again. She was afraid of opening her eyes and seeing nothing but frustration, but anger at her actions. 

But that pleading voice fought through, a cutting knife that told her not to disappoint, not to upset Manila. She blinked open dark eyes, shining bright from tears she tried, and failed, to fight away. And there was Manila, looking down at her with all the adoration, and patience, and worry in the world. “Hey,” Manila repeated, breathed, her hand not leaving Raja’s face for even a second.

They weren’t supposed to do this. Manila was quirky, and funny, and out of the box, and loud, and annoying, but never in a bad way. Raja was out of this world, and introverted, but extroverted, and every contradiction, and eccentric. They didn’t do serious. Not even when they were a bottle and a half deep into Barefoot Pink Moscato on a Wednesday night. Not ever. Yet here she was, crying practically in Manila’s arms for no reason that she could fathom, and Manila was standing for it.

“I’m sorry,” she managed as soon as she could, the feeling of tears looking underneath her chin, just above her Adam’s apple. 

“No.”

“But I am-“ Manila cut her off by kneeling before her- and, oh, God, Raja could only think of her look, how she needed to be careful about the dress, please don’t tear it- moving her hands to rest on Raja’s stocking-covered knees, instead, as light as a butterfly.

“Girl.” Manila gave a little shake of her head, then, as if throwing away that idea, and spoke again, much gentler. “Raja. You have nothing to be sorry for. You never do.”

It felt, then, like a truck had slammed into her, and Raja was still catching her breath; if she had it, she would’ve argued back, but Manila wasn’t done.

“You don’t owe anyone else anything else. You already proved yourself by winning,” Raja’s mouth opened but Manila held up a finger to silence her, “No, listen to me. You’ve proved yourself once and you’ve proved yourself a thousand times after that. You don’t owe anyone anything of yourself. The only person you owe an apology to is yourself. You’re the only one still judging you. Everyone else here-“

She stopped, then, letting her lips part into a smile. “Everyone else here who matters, that is, already knows who you are, and what you can do. They don’t care, Raja.” Her hands came up to Raja’s arms, then, as if begging, pleading. “They don’t care.”

Silence sat over them, like an overcast cloud as Raja tried to swallow all of her friend’s words back, only managing a desperate: “Manila…”

But Manila stood to full height, then, hand resting on Raja’s head, her words even more distressed. “Let yourself rest, Raja, please. Please.“

Delicate, polished fingers moved, naturally, almost, through Raja’s hair, long strands parting as she moved from temple to the base of her neck. As if instinctively, Raja couldn’t help but be drawn forward, as if intuitively pulled towards Manila’s presence, towards her touch. It felt more like a command in a second, and before Raja could protest, she was being pulled into a hug, pressed into soft fabric of Manila’s dress, just above her belly buttons, both of her firm arms wrapped around Raja’s head. “Manila, the makeup,” she whispered, into the dark warmth, her shoulders still stiff, still tense, and not letting up for a second. “Your dress-”  “Shut up,” came the tight response, and for a second, past her own tears, and past her own simmering doubts, if Raja listened carefully enough, she might have heard the slight crack in Manila’s voice. “I don’t care about my dress.” Her lips came down to Raja’s scalp, bent over her in a protective stance. For a moment, just a brush, just a taste of a kiss pressed over Raja’s skin. Her fingers continued to stroke through, up and down her neck, the base of her skull, responding to every shudder of a sob that wracked through her body. But you should, Raja’s head ached. We go on stage in an hour, in front of hundreds of people, you should care. The dress matters, I don’t. 

“I care about you,” Manila continued, spoken against her skin, sighed like a prayer, a silent longing; perhaps if she said it with enough power, enough conviction, enough love, it could be believed. I don’t, Raja retaliated. Manila didn’t let up, not letting go of her for a second, holding all of the pieces of Raja inside of her slender arms and holding her tight, together. “I care about you. Not about my stupid dress, or makeup getting on it, or if your mascara isn’t perfect, or if you cry in front of me. I don’t care about that. Only about you. I…”

It became evident for the first time that Raja was not the only one crying. Manila took in a hitched breath, struggling for a moment past her ribs to gather up the breath to continue, swallowing hard and fighting through it. She spoke when Raja felt her own words stolen away, blinking into the fabric of her stomach, her face hot and wet and refusing to release everything for even a moment.  “Raja, I,” that same hesitation clenched in her chest again, and this time Raja felt it, pulling back with tear raw cheeks to meet a reflection, Manila’s face wearing the same anguish, the same desperation. 

The weight of the situation began to sink over them, years of friendship inflating to fill the tiny space between them, and with all the strength that she could muster, Raja moved one thumb up, swiping away one black-stained tear from Manila’s cheek, swiping it away with the twitch of a smile over her unpainted lips. Manila’s touch faded from her hair, sliding to her shoulders, to her elbows as Raja’s arms reached up to Manila’s face instead, framing contoured cheekbones. Tears slipped over the back of her hands, as she stroked the apple of Manila’s cheeks.

Raja nodded, wordless for a moment as she fished out the ability to speak from the pit of her chest, deep within her heart. “I know.” Manila’s tears twisted into a laugh, tightening on her elbows. “Do you?”

Another nod, another wipe of tears still flowing. She hardly even noticed her own, their shining, red-lined eyes meeting in the middle as she breathed in, and out, and spoke: 

“I love you, too.”

[latter-day-saint-nick]

I should probably ignore this, but I’m feeling petty today.

I’ll address your second point first. The reason I singled out Moffat is because I’ve been annoyed with his work since Doctor Who, a show that I loved before he took over and the writing went downhill. My tag “flipping Moffat” is an in-joke between my wife and me. We started saying it in response to Moffat’s bad writing and dangling plot-threads on Doctor Who, but then went on to use that phrase jokingly whenever a piece of fiction has bad continuity and makes no sense, even when Moffat isn’t involved. Many of his worst qualities as a writer are on full display in Dracula: bad continuity, queerbaiting, dialogue that tries too hard to sound clever, clear contempt for the source material, poor attempts at female empowerment that just come off as sexist, male protagonists who are so much better and more important than everyone else. Since Moffat worked with Gatiss on both this and Sherlock, it’s safe to assume that Gatiss is just as bad of a writer as he is, but I can’t muster up the same hate towards him, simply because I know less about him. I don’t know what Gatiss’s personal views are like, but I have read plenty of interviews with Moffat where he says incredibly sexist and just generally gross things. So, yeah, screw Moffat and his relentless misogyny!

As to your first point, look, you’re allowed to disagree with my views, but saying that I shouldn’t be allowed to engage in media criticism is just rude. Especially when you don’t even bring up any counterarguments as to why I’m wrong apart from that the lead actor was hot. And you are absolutely allowed to enjoy trashy television because it has attractive people in it. Just like I’m allowed not to enjoy it.

Not to brag, but... okay, yeah, I’m totally saying this to brag, but I literally have a PhD in literature. Media criticism is kind of my thing. No, my rant was not on the level of an academic essay, but it wasn’t meant to be. My aim was mainly to be entertaining, which is why I used a joking tone throughout, even inserting some of the funny comments my wife and I made while watching the show.

But the fact that I have a PhD doesn’t even matter, because you didn’t just say that my critique was invalid, but that every person on Tumblr’s critique is. Why is that? Is it because there’s a lot of teenagers on this website? Teenagers may not have as much nuance in their media criticism than someone with more experience and education, but we all have to start somewhere, and just because someone’s young doesn’t mean they have nothing worthwhile to say. As far as I know, there’s no sign in front of fandom that says, “You must be this old for your opinion to matter.”

Have I seen bad media criticism on Tumblr? Sure. But I’ve also seen a lot of good, thoughtful discussions. I follow a lot of blogs that examine issues like sexism, racism and homophobia in media. Invariably, they get a bunch of hateful comments from people who think they’re over-analyzing or that they’re hurting the fandom by discussing racism. And this is kind of the vibe I’m getting from your comments, which is why they rankle me so much. Like I should just shut up about the problematic writing and let you enjoy your sexy vampires. (I apologize if I’m misunderstanding your intent here.)

Because while I mostly made fun of the bad continuity and the nonsensical plot, I did also touch on aspects I found troubling. Like queerbaiting. Literally one of the first lines of the show is, “Did you have sexual intercourse with Dracula?” Sister Agatha later explains that any contact with Dracula - including sexual - could have caused Jonathan’s condition, so there was no reason for her to phrase the question in such an asinine manner other than to tease LGBT+ audiences. And, no, the fact that Lucy has a stereotypical gay best friend in episode 3 does not make it okay. I talked about how Lucy’s characterization felt like a shallow attempt at female empowerment when it really just made her less sympathetic, because it showed her to be self-centred and vain. Which I feel is bad, sexist writing for a character we’re supposed to care about. Even making Van Helsing a woman came off as a shallow attempt at female empowerment when it seemed like the whole reason for the gender-swap was so she and Dracula could be shown in bed together at the end without it being gay. Maybe you disagree that showing Lucy being painfully and horribly burned alive was racist. I mean, in isolation the scene is still disturbing, but maybe not indicative of anything more. But taken together with the treatment of Bill Potts in Doctor Who it does present a troubling trend. Does Moffat (and Gatiss) actively hate black women and want them to suffer? No, probably not. But there is a subconscious bias in society that black women can take more pain than other women, and this shows up in the way they are treated in fiction. This is not a problem unique to Moffat, as the companion who was put through the most crap before Bill Potts was Martha Jones, another black woman. And this was during Davis’s era of Doctor Who.

So, believe or not, I actually put a lot of thought into my silly Dracula post. If you want to have a discussion about points you disagree with, that’s fine. But don’t just go around telling people that they shouldn’t be allowed to express their opinion.

[malereader-inserts]

The Breakup Scene

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Reader Summary: It’s just a total mayhem Word Count:1658 Request: Peter Parker x Actor Male Reader and the Reader is reading his lines to him and the lines are like saying I hate you because it like from a breaking up scene, and the team hears this and is not having it. 

“What’s the scene?”

You came sauntering into the Avengers tower that day, you were glad that you had a place to hang out with cameras flashing in your face. Your boyfriend was the famous Spiderman, and when his team found out you were dating (the gay icon and hero) they basically wanted to you to stay. Peter was here almost all the time, but even when he wasn’t you liked hanging around the team.

You found Peter very supportive and enjoyed your relationship with him.

“Does it matter? You don’t even watch my show,” You complained as you sat down next to him, averting your eyes at his English literature book, “Shakespeare?”

“It’s boring anyway,” You gasped, offended, as his bright smile beams at you, chuckling how silly you were, “Anyway, even if I don’t watch your show I want to know what scene you’re doing.”

“Why don’t you ever watch my show?” You asked as you watched Peter shut his book and throw it at the table.

The Avenger Towers was surprisingly quiet, like too quiet, but you enjoyed the sincere moments with Peter. Since you were just two teenagers, the adults (aka the responsible heroes of the world) like to make sure there isn’t any funny business - which all happens at your house when your parents go out for date night. 

The living room was almost spotless, you figured that Tony was at breaking point when he ordered everyone to clean their mess, actually in fact, now that you think about it more - it was probably Pepper who scowled at them, they were all secretly scared of the CEO.

“You have to kiss that girl you work with since your characters are in love and do the kissy stuff-” Peter made a face, his nose scrunched up with his tongue out feign out disgust.

“Pete,” You gave him a pointed look, but there was an amusement in your tone as Peter rolls his eyes.

“I know, I know! You’re gay, she’s gay, no strings attached, I just don’t like when my boy kisses someone else.” Peter grumbled, whining like a little child as he crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

You chuckled, your hand playing with his hair and softly placing a delicate peck on his cheeks, which turned red almost instantly. Your boyfriend likes to say that he isn’t jealous, but if the world knew that Spiderman was actually the greatest dork Peter Parker and he could control the plot line for your character he would most definitely make sure you weren’t kissing some co-worker of yours.

“Luckily for you, my dearest spider of mine, my character breaks up the relationship,” You shrugged as you hand him your script, shrugging your shoulders, “I think I almost got them perfected, but it doesn’t hurt to practice again, right?”

Peter looked at the words on your paper and looking at you, he wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept of helping you, but he has never done it before in a very open place. Mostly do it in his room back at Queens or at your place.

“Are you sure-?”

“Positive, I have the shooting tomorrow and this is practically my last opportunity to practise before I could possibly make a fool of myself.”

“Honey, you’re already a fool,” Peter started as he gave you a smug smile, “A fool for me.”

You choked out a laughter, throwing your head back as Peter grinned happily, watching you with bright eyes. As you calmed down, you both stare at each other with fond looks and genuine happiness.

“Alright, babe, come at me!” Peter spoke enthusiastically as he turns to face you fully, the sheets of papers pinched between his fingers.

You cleared your throat, your mind wandering before looking directly at Peter, when you had first started practising your lines with him Peter used to get uncomfortable with your stare, but now, he felt comfortable and he loved looking into your eyes.

“I used to think we were us verse the world kind of couple,” You started, reeling your lines, Peter always find your transition between your real you and your character, “You were my first love, and you always will be, but I don’t collapse for you like I used too, and I never will. “

Peter watched you acting, taking a deep breath, looking anywhere but him. Peter watched you in your full glory, it took his breath away.

“We can make it work!” Peter read the lines in front of him, with full emotions thinking that if he didn’t participate it’ll make you feel weird. “We can start over.”

“From where? We were doomed from the beginning.”

A bitter laugh had escaped your lips, a shiver had run down your boyfriend’s spine, watching how your eyes dilated when you looked back him. His heart was wildly thumping, he knew, he knows that you loved him but when your pupils dilated he knew that he was captivated in your spell.

“I guess, we’re better off as new people and different paths.” You continued as Peter’s lips tugged in a small smile.

“I hate you,” Peter seethes, looking at the paper and back at you as you nodded encouragingly to continue the scene, “After all that we’ve gone through? You are dead to me.”

However, getting caught up in your practice, some Avengers were peeking through and heard you running your lines, only to get misinformation as Tony burst into his living room.

“Are you breaking up with Peter?” The man exclaimed as he strode to hug Peter, gripping him tightly.

“Peter is a wonderful child,” Rhodey came crashing too, limping as he defended your boyfriend.

“I’m 16!” Peter exclaimed as you held back a laugh.

“Hush!” Tony and Rhodey spoke in unison as you watched the newly reformed team pile into the living room.

“Peter is a great man,” Steve had started, you raised an eyebrow, “He’s brilliantly smart and a gentleman, you must a fool to ever let him go!”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I-”

“I think we can all agree that we would hate to see this baby face-” Natasha started but was cut off by an annoyed teenager, waving his arms and trying to get out of Tony’s grasp.

“Hey!”

“Be upset, this kid is the heart and soul of the team!” Natasha finished, “Though this is the last time I will mention it, so take it in, kid.”

“That’s nice-”

“I can’t believe you want to break up with him, this nerd is at best when you’re around,” Clint mentioned as Sam hummed an agreement, “Like I don’t want to suffer his science jokes that only you seem to understand, excluding the science nerds over there.”

Both Tony and Bruce looked offended as Bruce counted back at his teammate, “Clint, you’re like, one of the biggest nerds here.”

“No, I’m not-”

“You’re all nerds,” Natasha cut them off, as Wanda giggled behind Vision.

“Breaking up with Parker here is a terrible idea,” Bucky piped up from somewhere, you turned to see him standing by the Norse God.

“Not only that-” Thor had started before you got irritated.

“Hold it, pointbreak,” You hear Tony snort as you looked at each of the team, you pull Peter into a hug, him leaning his weight on you, “I’m not breaking up with this dork.”

“You’re not?” Vision questioned as you roamed your eyes to see furrowed eyebrows of confusion, “But, we heard you before-”

“For apparent nerds, you are really idiotic sometimes,” You mentioned as you felt Peter’s laughter rumble against your chest, “And I say that with much affection.”

“So, you’re not breaking up with the kid?” Sam asked, his arms folded over his chest.

“No-”

“Tragic,” Dr Strange had piped up as you narrowed your eyes at him, “Joking, obviously, we’re very protective of the youngest.”

“I know, but I can assure you that I am not breaking up with Peter,” You had let go of Peter, who sat up and leaned his head on your shoulder, “He was helping me run my lines for tomorrow, spoilers: It’s a breakup scene.”

“Oh,” The team had spoken in unison, soon their faces flushing in a crimson colour.

You suppressed a smile as you affectionately kissed Peter on his temple, “I love Peter too much to even think about leaving him.”

“Right,” Steve scratched the back of his head, “I guess we owe you an apology.” 

“No need, spangle,” You waved him off, “Just a mistake, but please next time don’t assume our relationship, it’s, what’s a better word for-”

“Rude?” Peter offered as he sends the team a pointed look, who looked mildly embarrassed.

“So, you’re stuck seeing us still be in love,” You commented with a toothy grin with Peter had copied, the team had watched with great happiness.

“I guess we’ll leave you to it,” Tony said, awkwardly before sending both of you a wink as he started to loudly exclaim to evacuate the scene.

You couldn’t help but smile, appreciating how the team had great protectiveness of their youngest team member. You sighed in relief as the silence had once consumed the living room yet again.

“I’m sorry about them.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and pressing a kiss softly against his lips, smiling as you parted ways, “It’s okay, Pete, they care for you.”

“It’s annoying,” He whined as he collapses in your arms.

Falling back, you wrapped your arms around him as he snuggles closer to you. Your hand travelled to his prince charming hair and started to gently unknot the knots in his wavy hair.

“They love you, you know.”

“I know,” Peter sighs, shutting his eyes, “It’s overbearing, but I love them too.”

You softly laugh as you too shut your eyes, allowing the silence to consume you once again. Content in taking a slumber with your spider nerd in your arms.

[elizabethrobertajones]

not to play devil's advocate bc fuck that anon, but i don't think they were bitching about the destiel scene per se so much for the context of it, and the big romantic implication that we were waiting for was just a throwaway sex joke from a demon that we've heard the likes of so many times and it.. doesn't really move their relationship anywhere. i hope you understand.

Yeah, I do, when you’re not aggressive about it (thanks

I just feel like that anon’s aggressiveness was entirely about the sense of being promised an entire scene and then lashing out and blaming me/the fandom/the show?? for promising them something huge and taking their generalised disappointment/overall anger at the show and bundling it all into using this as the scapegoat for their anger. If they had just taken a mo to read those tweets again it came across fairly clearly to me that it was a single line and also one that was in the category of whoops and cheers and laughter from Jensen rather than “awww”s and other less bawdy reactions. The thing is that those spoilers weren’t hyping it up as anything more than what it was, and knowing now full well that it was a single line, re-read those tweets and it’s very clear that they were reporting faithfully on the moment while trying not to spoil it. Especially all 4 together in that post, which was the most popular I saw circulating, and I feel like anon in particular seemed to have been waiting for an entire scene and somewhere or other got very hyped up for something that no one had promised them from any of these 1st hand reports. Seeing the tweets again reminded me I had the anon in my inbox and I got pretty pissed off that they got so annoyed about it when I was taking another look at the spoilers with all the context… I just, like, really hate speculation and spinning enormous narratives like gold out of straw. 

I didn’t really talk about the moment itself, but, yeah. It isn’t anything new - Dabb has even written 3 years ago an almost identical scene with the angels taunting Cas with the implication he and Dean are boning, but this one made the connection absolutely clear for the audience, with no leaps whatsoever to connect what he was saying to Destiel, vs it being Dean’s phonecall that set that angel to threatening to cut off Cas’s junk. And we’ve gone a pretty long time since that level of taunting. I’ve always liked that 7x23 was the last time we got a “he’s your boyfriend” for a pretty hefty stretch of Carver era… I’m actually struggling to remember if there ARE any direct implications in seasons 8 or 9, and then in 10 we get the “Deastiel” moment in 10x05, and the deleted boyfriends argument in 10x14, and overall Carver era is extremely low on these implications and ‘jokes’ compared to Gamble era. I DO think the direct implications without any actual representation or canon sucks especially because these heap up and up and up in the ongoing annuals of Dean n Cas implications which are starting their 10th full year now. Like, interesting as they are on a meta level and for rolling along with the story having fun etc, cumulatively they suck when that’s as visible as it gets. 

I do think, though, that in general this line would have been treated with a lot more fun if it hadn’t been spoiled at all because even sensible people like yourself can build up an expectation that the line might not be another one of these, just out of hoping for the best/giving the show the benefit of the doubt. Like actually maybe it could be someone calling Cas on his feelings (like 13x04 and the Empty accusing him of having some secret love, which was profound rather than teasing and a whole other category of this stuff minus the whole har har it’s funny that you might be gay together thing which for me hands an enormous amount of leeway to the snide comments from bad guys as it creates the weight to the relationship which makes it more than something spun from nothing but needling from villains who think its a joke, whether they seem to believe it or not). So I do get the hope that you can build up that it might have been something else, even against the spoiler than Jensen absolutely cracked up at it (which to me, knowing how he laughs at these things in general, was really the thing that made me guess it was going to be pretty much what we got but I know I apply a lot of lowest possible expectations to thinks just to protect myself). 

Being bitter and cynical about it without proper mental upkeep in the direction of positivity can be really wearing. *I* can be cynical because I don’t mean it as wank and I know I still love the show etc etc so I’m prepared for the event without it coming across as disappointment… But that’s a strong mental wall I made and I know not everyone wants to/can/thinks we should have to do that. I sort of feel ALL media can be disappointing or not what you were after and basically only stuff you make yourself and a rare few creators will scratch the exact thing you want without issues. So I don’t feel it’s weird to allow SPN leeway to do sucky things so much as it’s the thing I’m most invested in so I have to be a lot more clear about them, while if other media lets me down in some way I am way more casual and roll with it easier to start with. And with SPN being heavily invested for so long, I’ve weathered SO MUCH outrage over these things and worse and less that something like this is very easy for me to soak with my mental armour and take on the chin and see it for what it is in the first place and so on without having particularly bitter thoughts when I immediately divine what type of line it will be from the spoilers. It’s not a “oh it will probably be garbage gay teasing” it a much more gentle reaction, knowing that I’ve already watched this far knowing the show does it so one more instance is just another for the record books. 

I mean there’s a feeling of collecting the show’s sins and weighing its heart when all is said and done in the future when the show ends. But that’s extremely morbid so I don’t linger on that part of this sort of disassociative permissiveness to the show’s nonsense :P

Anyways. It’s good to be excited about the show but when it comes specifically to wild destiel spoilers I do think this fandom seriously needs an overall better filter to decide what will truly happen, and there’s no one person to blame, it’s a mindset and we very easily get carried away, and I’ve had to learn the hard way that I need to set myself as a rock in that river and let it wash past me. And not make hard lines of saying not to get enthusiastic for ANYTHING because oftentimes spoilers about Dean n Cas working together or chilling together DO turn out to be really good and in no way should we approach the episodes like we’re going to be attacked, because that’s where bitter stan fandom factions come from. It’s so complicated, and I really was trying not to say anything about it but then I got frustrated and it’s hard to be completely perfect about keeping quiet on annoyances… :P 

I don’t know what the tl:dr is here.. I don’t blame people for getting excited, for sure. But maybe just for lashing out at others when they don’t get what they want and are really incautious. The original anon conjured a whole scene up they wanted, not just a line, and that to me is the perfect example of fandom spinning straw into gold with hype, and something I really can’t stand and at that point I start to say there IS a personal blame/responsibility. Peeps who weren’t THAT irrationally expectant and then proportionately furious after are cool and I wasn’t blaming anyone else >.> 

[ask-svt-hearteu]

“to all admins (who are so beautiful it is sO UNFAIR) : it’s me!!! sofia ahaha and im sending this a lil early because i wont be home for christmas (:p) and i’d like to thank all of you because i can’t send over gifts due to the ocean. damned water. somewhere in december, i think on the 14th??? i will have known this blog for 5 months ! which isn’t that long but im looking forward to spending many more weeks and months on this wonderful blog. all the admins are so, so friendly, nice, amazing, interesting, beautiful, etc etc. thank you for talking to me ! thank you for being here for me during the tough times! thank you for your advice, thank you for your jokes, your rants, your posts, your everything. this blog has given me as much joy as seventeen does. really! i’m so happy i stumbled upon this blessing of a blog when i was still a baby carat and needed more knowledge. 

but please, you guys, get enough rest okay? i heard that someone (like joshua’s wife cough) doesnt get enough sleep and i swear im flying over. all of you are humans and you need rest. you all are in school and you need rest from school (which can be a pain lets be honest) and a break from writing. remember, we, as your readers and fans, care more about your health than how fast you answer our asks. we want you all to be happy and we wish we could give you back the happiness youve given us with this blog. i hope that in 2018, the blog will earn many,many more followers, the admins will make many more friends, and get more supporters (ok but i still dont understand why and how people send hate to the admins?? like fuck you man, these people work so hard arghhh don’t send them hate just because you’re pathetic and lonely and deprived of love and all the good things in life. Legit everytime I see a post about a hater i want to throw a pan at the shithole who hated on these amazing creatures. @jun @minghao @hoshi @scoups jom let’s go beat up the haters im bringing my frying pan and my sunat knife y’ALL BETTER WATCH OUT LATER KENA I SUNAT YOU) drink water, not alcohol : okay sO YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT A HUMAN IS ALLOWED TO BE A TALENTED WRITER, PRETTY ENOUGH TO BE A MODEL AND BE A SINGER ????? JESS IDC WHAT YOU SAY YOU ARE G O R G E O U S YOU’RE SO QR3UBFD-BGQIF and you’re so talented and friendly and n i c e. You’RE SO HARDWORKING AS WELL YOU’RE IN YOUR LAST YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL AND STILL WRITE ON THIS BLOG AS OFTEN AS YOU CAN (it really touched me when i told you me and my best friend were fighting and you sent me tons of dino pics and tagged me in pictures of him. that really cheered me up , thank you :D) i think you’re the first admin i started to talking to hahahaha and even though im really annoying you still talked to me? like ?? i heard that you’re in your last year of high school and i wish you the best of luck !!! do only what you want to do. Don’t stress about choosing the right college/uni or the right course, just do what you want to. Please take your time with the blog, college tends to stress writers out and whenever you feel stressed rEST PLEASE. pls make many many new friends in college and have a better diet than ramen 24/7 which doesnt sound too bad but that’s a lot of sodium. i hope everything goes well for you but remember if anything goes wrong or u just wanna talk im here! love youuu bb. 10:10 : ok sERI. WE REALLY NEED TO FIND TIME TO TALK because whenever i text you you’re in class and whenever you text me im about to sleep (damn these timezones) sighh. it’s okay if i ever have kids, i’ll sell them and buy a plane ticket to meet you. okay when i first started talking to you i was really impressed because you’re really..tough? like i really people with thick skin and people who don’t give a shit about what other say and tbh i’m trying to be more like that. people like that are so cool !! and ur so pretty and cool sighh im so jealous (you have vv nice lips dONT TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY I JUST THINK THEY’RE VV PRETTY oR dO I) also you’re really smart ! like you’ve gotten full marks for a test like woah hoshi is so lucky. i hope you remain thick skinned and brush the haters away, but it’s okay to feel bad once in a while, you’re only being human. but you can talk to me any time you feel down or u just wanna talk or rant or vent. i hope you don’t stress about school, please take a break if you have to (i dont want you to go away i want you to get the rest you deserve)anyways i love you ! my name is soonyoung, call me soon : APA KHABAR MY MALAYSIAN FREN ahaha im soooo happy i met you on tumblr. *ur the aesthetic queen* . i hope that we meet in person soon or one day because we live in the same country and won’t it be cool to see each other? we should have a photoshoot together. speaking of photoshoot im very happy to have a model sensei to teach me how to pose. also ur one hell of a sweetheart. you always share fandom things with me and i tend to fangirl in the middle of tesco or class because of you. hmm if seventeen ever come back to malaysia we should meet at their concert, given both of us are going. i’d really love to know more about you lmao you’re so interesting and you’re really patient with me!!! which is reallly nice. okay bb let’s find a date when both of us are free and leggo have some fun. i hope you don’t ever have to feel sad. well actually i think sadness is vital to humans so maybe anger. i hope you’ll continue to be very peaceful and freak out w carats and kpop fans across the glose and i hope that one day you’ll see naega hosh up close and p e r so nal. ilysm bb xxx my i geddit because wo ai ni so ur my love heh : hello my wife /name twin ish / dancer girl / jun’s / blessing to thie world. oh my god we need to talk moreeeee. ur so funny and we’re so alike (like we both swear like pigs) but we’re different because you’re so good at dancing! heck, whenever i dance i blind people from a 5 kilometre radius. all the other admins say you could dance my i with jun and i am sHOOK BECAUSE ho l ee s h i et also do you know what i would give to see you dance with jun? i’d give up all my memes. yeah, that’s right. my knowledge of all memes and vines and fre sh a vacado. apart from your dancing skills, you’re very, very pretty. i can’t believe you think you’re ugly , sweet jisoos, you’re have… the beauty of all the sunsets in the world. you’re actually really nice (stop protesting) because you’ve listened to me rant about all the damn drama in my life and you gave me advice. and you’ve never lost your patience with me. jeez i love youuuu !!! you’ve laughed with me and sent me dino pics to make my heart explode and you were there when i did something really stupid on kakaotalk. sighhh good times amirite? well we can still talk on tumblr. i hope you continue being yourself, the amazing person you are. xx love you to bits. seventeenteenteen : i survived. you havent killed me yet. i have stuck to dino faithfully. well actually, my first bias for like, a week, was memesol but then dinosaur found his way into my heart. i know y’all are busy and it may be hard but please rest. please don’t read mean comments, please love yourselves, please eat well. please do anything that would make you happy. each and every one of you are so, so important to me and i hope all of you are healthy. the8 please rest, i hope you get better soon. scoups, i hope that fever is gone. dino, i hope you find someone that makes you really really happy and i hope you wake up with a smile on your face each day and i hope people will stop prying into your personal life because you deserve to find someone you love and you deserve to be able to love that person without hate. i hope all of you don;t feel pressured to keep away from relationships because of selfish “fans” and i hope all of you will be happy. @josh @hoshi @jun you guys, please take care of your aegis. @josh wish ur gf luck for college, @hoshi stop killing these girls w ur visuals and @jun im waiting for u and sophia’s dance duet. i love all of you with all my heart <3333 thank you for a wonderful 5 months, i hope many more will come. love, sofia xx add on : i wrote this note before jonghyun killed himself and i’d just like to say this to everyone. the admins and the readers ; please ask for help. you are not alone. people are here for you. mental illness is not and will never be a light topic. suicide is never the answer. i know it’s hard but you need to stay, because we need you. i need you. it doesnt matter if we are close friends or complete strangers : you are so important. you are strong and brave and kind and smart and beautiful and you can get through this. you have people willing to listen. if somehow the whole world refuses to listen, im here. there are people around you who care deeply about you and please, stay. if any of you feel sad about the recent tragedy, take a break from tumblr, okay? i love all of you and please, stay safe. — sofiafabulousphan”

Admin Jess: Sofia, bb T^T I honestly can’t express how much your words mean to me. I love you so so much thank you for everything. I honestly won’t deny, it’s hard. I think it will always be difficult to a certain degree to run this blog. Not that I don’t love every second of it believe me, I just (LMAO LEAVE IT TO ME TO START TEARING UP IN THE MIDDLE OF TYPING THIS) I’ve never wanted to do something I wanted to just because I can.  I don’t run this blog expecting anything in return. I do it because I genuinely love, love the happiness it brings other people, because I love seventeen and I love doing it all. If I didn’t love it with all my heart I don’t think I would have held up this long. You’re right, it’s my last year of high school. My hardest year because I decided to take a multitude of difficult classes. I have cried tears over so many classes (I’m crying writing this response omfg PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER JESS), I have had plenty of mental breakdowns, a lot of crying whenever someone simply asks me if I’m ok or suggests I get more sleep. I have been an emotional wreck all year. It is my fault though, I did decide to take challenging courses this school year, but one can only run on four hours of sleep everyday for so long and not be emotional I guess. AND I WAS TERRIFIED. I was so scared that in the course of this year, through all the difficult hours of studying and finishing homework at 2/3am in the morning before having to wake up at 6am and walk to school by 7am, that I wouldn’t have the time or effort to do just the one thing I wanted to do the most in the world. I only had one real hobby I loved doing and it was running this blog (again hella emotional and dramatic sorry it’s like one am here when I’m writing this). So I forgo sleep to get everything done. It’s not healthy but in my mind, if I gave up on this blog for one day, that one day might turn into two days, which would turn into a month, and then I’d never be able to do anything ever again just because I kept pushing it off, treating it as if it didn’t mean the world to me when it so very dearly does. OK I’M RAMBLING ABOUT MYSELF NO ONE CARES JESS AHEM,,, My point is, I sacrificed sleep for school and this blog not because I was forced to, but because if I slept, this feeling of guilt when I woke up in the morning, a feeling of “ahh I could have done more, I could have been better” would permeate my mind for who knows how long. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. I hate disappointing people. So to hear you say this blog and all the stuff we do on it makes you happy? It makes me think maybe I’m not such a big disappointment after all, and maybe if I keep working hard, I can continue making more people happier, and that’s all I really want. True, with college approaching, I can’t make any guarantees. I anticipate not being able to do anything at all, and that idea is scary too and makes me want to work even harder now while I still can. I will definitely try to get more rest though??? I mean no one likes a sleep-deprived me at 3am lmao, I may seem nice but at 3am I’m bawling my eyes out over homework and cursing at my posters and pictures of Seventeen and school and textbooks in like three different languages (it’s not pretty lol). So yes rest? Idk what that is... but I’ll try??? fjnvksjn? I think I recall when you first sent in an ask, I’m not too sure but honestly the blog is about as old as you’ve been here so thank you for being one of our first supporters (did you have a book with a flower icon hmm trying to recall)! The hate I think will always be a thing I’m sure, I just don’t know how to deal with it T-T I am very naturally a sensitive human bean, what can I say... LMAO I’M NOT GORGEOUS THOUGH it’s called filters, lighting, angles, and makeup. The only reason I look anywhere near decent is because I use a combination of those things to hide all my flaws LMAO. As for singing, I’m not super? I can sing a pitch correctly I suppose? I can sing a chromatic scale? Idk if that qualifies as good singing (I can definitely sing svt songs in broken Korean shamelessly no matter where I go though). I’m really not that good, but I’m not awful like a dying seal or smth. I don’t even think I’m a talented writer, I just try my best I guess. I do sincerely try my hardest. YOU’RE NOT ANNOYING AT ALL I 117% would listen to you rant or scream about anything and I’m just super grateful you don’t think I’m annoying lsnfdnvd. OF COURSE I THINK YOU AND CHAN ARE THE CUTEST (or you and Jongdae pick your poison;) and of course I sent all those Channie pics omfg, I’m always here if you need it^~^ Thank you for all your kind words love (AND IMMA PRETEND YOU DIDN’T CALL ME JOSHUA’S WIFE BC MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT KDFJNVKSBBDIBI I’LL CALL YOU CHAN’S WIFE ISTG I WILL) make sure to take care of yourself and you’re always welcome to come talk to me bb :)

Admin Meagan:  aaaHHHHHHH, really appreciate you Sofia ✨😩 Gosh, can't believe you wrote us sub a long essay AHAHAHAH. Also, SUNAT KAU AHAHAHAHAHAHAH (Non-Malaysians  wouldn't understand lmao) But yeeeee, thank you so so much baby for taking the time to send this ask in <3 It's been amazing knowing you and gosh you are such a sweetheart! Also, Chinese New Year is soon, let's go out together ;)) Cafe hopping at SS15 maybe? Hehe. I want my postcard AHAHA and to spend time with you of course!! <3 You are such a bright individual and Chan loves you hella lots. Thank you for always sending us such encouraging messages and for being a good pal really. But for reals, you mean a lot to me and gosh I can't wait to meet you. Also I not model material lah AHAHAH, only a certain days ;) but yess!! A photoshoot would be amazing haha, I can try to teach you some tips lmao. And yes, thank you for caring about our mental health. January hasn't been the best month for me, honestly it's been horrible but stuff like this really warms up my heart yah know. So yes, really really appreciate you man. Keep being so spunky and loveable. Take care, stay safe and I hope we get to meet each other soon ❤️

Admin Seri: SERIously SERIously, you have no idea how much this warmed my heart. ahh i so wish we could find a better time to talk, i’ll work on that :’) i’m not very good at expressing my feeling through words! and for that mianhae mianhae. in fact, that’s one very VERY COOL thing about you!!! expression your feelings isn’t the easiest and hey, use those feelings to brush for those haters. as you know love, other people’s opinions don’t effect me BUT THERE’S NOTHING WRONG with being affected! just know, those people are irrelivant, and once you realize they can’t do a single fucking thing to you unless you let them, it gets a bit better <3 but GIRL i remember you from the VERY being!!! i can’t believe you stuck around this long , you’ve seen all the changes, how much we’ve grown, it’s seriously amazing. becoming an admin (sure as hell didn’t know it back then) was definitely my HIGHLIGHT of twenty seventeen. there’s not a day that goes by where i regret it, not at all, even when our inbox is loaded or when i have writers block. and you being here along that journey warms my heart so so much! i’m not kidding sometimes i find myself in the middle of the night looking through all the comments or reblogs and GOSH i just see every single sweet sweet message you leave. AND OH MY GOD I’M ALREADY FOR SURE GONNA VISIT AJVBELJNGR IM ALREADY PLANNING TO ONE DAY TO SEE MEAGAN SO LIKE DUHHHH WE COULD MEET UP!!! just augh i’m super super grateful for you message jinja jinja ily~~~ <333 !!! {p.s. i totally wrote bodyguard reader! Chan thinking of you, ngl}

Admin Soph: As much as I love you and as much as you’re my ai. DONT GIVE UP YOUR MEMES FOR ME WTAF. MAN I LOVE YA BUT MEMES ARE IMPORTANT XD. And you might only be disappointed after watching me dance with Jun. Ah I wish we could talk more too :””) We get along so well and Im fucking positive were soulmates just looking at how similar we are XD. Ah im not really good at things like this. Im really speechless because damn boi I love ya and you took the time to write all this for us :””). Youre an angel sent from the heavens. AND ME PRETTY??? NUUUUUUUU.Just like what Jess said, filters and lighting exists. Im only cute tho (char). But youre more prettier than me love. Both inside and outside. You're as beautiful as the northern lights. And like the northern lights, you light up my dark days :””). We dont talk much but we always check up on each other man. Goddamn I love ya. I hope we can make more stupid but fun memories together ^^. And I will literally hug the shit outta you when we meet. Also can we like talk about how much we appreciate ya? You’re always in our inbox sending adorable and heartwarming asks to both Svt and us. I remember telling you that your asks about the admins literally brightens our day. How you're little “I hope the admins stay safe” means so much to us. I really hope you only experience happiness for the rest of your life. You’re a person I really appreciate and love. AS MUCH AS I LOVE JUN. HELL YEAH I SAID IT. hAHHAH Dont be afraid to come to me if you have any problem. I will always be here to talk to you and help you love ^^. Please take care of yourself too. DonT FUCKING SKIP MEALS. GET A LOT OF SLEEP OR IM GETTING CHAN AND JONGDAE. Ah im sorry if I didnt say a lot. I want to say a lot but I literally dont know what to say :””). I WILL MESSAGE YOU A LONG AS MESSAGE ON YOUR BDAY OR SOMETHING. I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY TO YOU GADBSVF ASNMK. For now, I love you and take care of yourself. You are loved by a lot and I hope your life gets filled with happiness and joy. Im also always here if you ever need to talk ^^

[elizabethrobertajones]

S2g I can't belive antis are so butthurt over Destiel fans being right that they'll slide into Destiel posts and write hateful shit. Like I'm not even that big of an account and I've been gettiny anti-hate.

Tbh I never get hate on my posts or in my inbox, except for in extremely rare scenarios. I’ve been in fandom for years and never got more than like one anon per year, and one or two posts that went right out of my sphere of influence. 

If you’re actually interested in stopping them bothering you I’d take the immediate steps of blocking every single one of them currently reblogging your posts. Scroll their blogs and block everyone commenting on things in reblogs on their blogs for the first couple of pages. Anyone who piles onto one of those posts? Blocked. It’s not giving in or losing the argument even if they then make posts on their blogs saying they won. All they won was an Annoying Person Award and you were just getting some peace of mind, which doesn’t say anything whatsoever about how wrong or right your posts are, especially when they’re the aggressors.

Next step is to invest in either a neutral tagging system (I use “deeean” etc specifically to keep out of the dean winchester tag unless I’m signal boosting a fairly neutral gifset or post. Or like, nougat winchester, mary f winchester, for the characters I know I shouldn’t post about in open waters who I had a little extra time to decide how I should tag them) or if that’s too much hassle, to always do tag padding. If you’re making a Destiel post, you can use Destiel as one of the first 5 tags, but if that’s the only relevant thing to a wider audience (also the only tag I use which IS one of the wider fandom tags because I ONLY want Destiel-positive peeps to see my stuff so I don’t care about throwing that tag around), but you KNOW Sam or Dean fans might not all ship Destiel, so the only people who would 100% care to see it as a group are the Destiel fans, put some filler tags in between that you know are just junk, like #destiel #1 #2 #3 #4 #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel, etc. 

I mean obviously if you’re posting just about Dean without any leading Destiel commentary you can tag him in full in one of the first 5 tags, but I am pretty sure your problem on that post at the top of your blog is because you didn’t tag it Destiel at all, commented on the Destiel parallel in the episode back to John, and then whacked a whole bunch of generic Supernatural tags on it in the first 5 tags.

I know the more hateful people whine a LOT about tagging but they get a really garbled bad impression of the fandom because they are shitty about curating their experience and leaving people alone when they see something they hate. But if you go out of your way to keep off their radar you won’t come across as “one of those fans” to them who is always posting Destiel in the main tags without anything for them to blacklist. Because while I deeply suspect they don’t ACTUALLY use blacklists since they still bitch about seeing stuff they COULD have blacklisted in the tags, if you can say “uh excuse me I tagged this Destiel, you should have been blacklisting it,” BOOM moral high ground

Like… I understand personal freedom and not wanting to give in to the haters or whatever sort of mentality is a thing, but it’s also no hassle, no sense whatsoever that there are hateful people in the fandom unless someone brings it to my attention, because I can post as much nonsense as I like and I get left alone because I’m not in the main tags except the ones I want to be in, and I am always making sure I’d have the moral high ground in an argument with snivelling internet people :P

The last time I got some weirdass hate it was because my post about Sam and the plastic reindeer having a staring competition got reblogged by canonspngifs, and they *even tagged it as ships for ts* which we all know is code for “need to tag this for the destiel haters because no one else gives a fuck what I reblog or gives me shit about it because they know this blog is just a library of neutral canon gifs” and so the hate blog went PAST that warning (hello, both me and Gifs being on the moral high ground to start with :P) and THEN reblogged it to bitch about how Destiel fans are the scum of the earth and shipping plastic reindeer bestiality now or something. But I mean my response to that could then be HOLY SHIT IT’S NOT THAT DEEP IT WAS A JOKE and block them, because I didn’t want to go any more rounds with someone who was making that strawman, but it was too funny to not show people what had just happened. And in every respect I’d done nothing wrong including that they didn’t even find the post through my blog.

(I really hope that “thinks the plastic reindeer is destiel proof” is something they strawman Destiel shippers with though. Please tell me if anyone ever sees them use that in an argument because I’d be delighted to know :P)

Anyway, I don’t see making some concessions to have a quiet life as letting them gain any ground, but I also don’t really measure how canon Destiel is or not based on how angry the people who hate it are :P I KNOW we’re right, so they’re infinitely uninteresting people to me.