#ive been meaning to post this for a while.

[st4rstudent]

YES I AM A NERD A BOOKWORM IM STUDIOUS TO MY CEREBRAL CORTEX TO MY GLUTEUS

no text ver

[corviiids]

ooh idk if you've talked about this one before, but what about goro akechi for the kira game?

HI RAPS

verdict: im prepared for this to be controversial, but consider this: ive never been wrong in my whole life. i think goro akechi could beat kira, but i don't know if he'd be happy with the outcome.

could goro akechi identify light yagami

im answering this one first because i want to make a point about this. listen. i feel like due to akechi's whole Plot where he Fakes Solving Cases For Clout, people forget that he actually is a really smart person and a good detective. like, he's not the super prodigy genius he pretends to be, but he's not a fake detective. he faked solving those shutdown cases for extremely specific reasons:

he was the fucking perpetrator so it served him to take control of the public understanding of the investigation into them and control the narrative; and

those cases were particularly high profile and would have been impossible to solve by anyone else, so 'solving' them would catapult him into notoriety faster than anything else - it was a clout speedrun, which is what he and shido needed.

but there are numerous other cases and puzzles in various bits of p5 media that he solves without faking them, plus we see plenty of occasions where he demonstrates his high intellect. the casino is a great example because i feel like the game takes that palace as an opportunity and relishes in letting you know what akechi can really do. the anime and the mementos mission manga both have subplots where akechi solves / helps to solve legitimate mysteries. and of course the famed unused mementos request in p5r which i think about all the time. it's kind of a shame that akechi's fake cases end up overshadowing all his real ones when he's a legitimately competent detective, even if he's not the impossible prodigy he projects as and even if he's nowhere near the level L is.

of course there's also the obvious one! while we are all aware that the phantom thieves are the least subtle people on the planet, and all ren's confidants eventually work it out just because he's so deeply unsubtle about it, it is still the case akechi identified them as persons of interest very early on, before pretty much anyone else (partly by intellect, partly by his metaverse advantage, i'll get to that). that's relevant because i think the phantom thieves are reasonably analogous to kira in the sense that they're utilising supernatural methods to target individuals which are untraceable via ordinary means.

now i dont think akechi could identify kira nearly as quickly or cleanly as L could, but i do think that if you placed him in charge of the investigation with all the investigative resources of the prosecutor's office / police department, he would be able to identify light as at least a person of interest in a reasonable amount of time, for two main reasons

light is more sneaky than the phantom thieves, but also makes the same kinds of identifiable mistakes that the PT do (eg targeting people in a set area, operating in such a way that it's possible to identify him as a student, being easily provoked, etc); and

unlike L, akechi has supernatural powers.

which brings me to:

could goro akechi intuit the mechanics of the death note

no, i don't think so, not on his own. but he wouldn't need to, because he has access to the metaverse.

we're back at the universe question. i think to fairly answer 'could they beat kira' questions we have to give our detective character all the advantages they have access to in their home universe, which means that akechi not only has his intellect but also has the metaverse, his persona, and his experience traversing the collective unconscious. (by the way, here's my post about what if light yagami had a palace.)

which means that once goro akechi has identified light as a person of interest, not even needing to ID him as a particular suspect, he can check whether the metanav gives him a hit. then he could infiltrate light's palace / find him in mementos (let's be real it's gonna be a palace) and find out the rest of what he needs to know from there. the metaverse isn't only useful for changing hearts and causing shutdowns. shadows are very forthcoming about their evil plans. all akechi would need to do is find light's shadow, and he'd find out everything he needs to know about the death note and kira's new world.

(follow-up question for fun: if akechi didn't have the metaverse, would he be able to intuit the mechanics of the death note? i think that akechi would ultimately get to the same point as L, namely, that kira needs a name and a face, but the specifics of 'magic murder notebook' would escape him. so no.)

could goro akechi survive

i think this would really depend on the context in which this investigation is taking place, but broadly i think it's likely? not certain, but it's likely. it depends on how reactive light is and depends on how well akechi reads the kira situation early on.

akechi is pretty shrewd, with the exception of major blindspots where someone he has a grudge against is concerned (hence why he's vulnerable to shido and to ren's plots). but i think kira is dangerous enough that akechi would be on pretty high alert from the start. in canon he's cunning enough to make false statements to the media to trick the thieves into thinking he's at least partially on their side / not an unambiguous enemy (that's the same strategy used in romance ha ha ha) so i think once akechi identified a person of interest he wouldn't be stupid enough to publicise that he's closing in on them and would probably start leaking false theories to make light think he's completely off the trail - after all, unlike L, akechi's name and face are completely public, so it would be way too risky to make light feel cornered. it would be smartest to play up the shallow celebrity angle to make think light he's just a dumbass idiot talking a big game.

i think akechi would bank on kira's MO of only killing criminals. after all, light didn't try to kill L until L deliberately goaded him into it - it's unlikely that akechi would have a reason to think that light would try to kill him just for investigating. up until that point kira has been masquerading as an icon of justice, so it would (and canonically did) take a lot to make kira veer from that ideology into killing investigators just because they threatened him. however, it's not impossible given nobody really knows anything about kira at that stage, so while akechi might make it public information that he's investigating kira, he wouldn't let on that he thought light was a threat.

then he could either:

initiate a surprise raid on light to get the death note based on information gained from light's shadow - risky because if it goes wrong light will kill him, but this will net him the most glory

(pre-phantom thieves) kill light - stops the murders but means akechi doesn't get clout for solving the kira murders single-handedly, not preferable

(post-phantom thieves) change light's heart - akechi also doesn't get credit and would be reluctant besides

so it depends how we're defining success i guess. could akechi beat light by killing light? likely yes, by simply causing a shutdown before putting light on notice that akechi was on his trail at all. could akechi beat light by apprehending light? maybe, it depends, it's risky. could akechi beat light by changing his heart? only if the thieves are involved.

so i guess the answer is yes i think akechi has the capacity to beat kira but probably not in a way that akechi himself is satisfied with and it wouldn't be a sure thing. it could go either way.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

letters that i can never send

words: 25,571

Chrissy/Tina | Teen and Up Audiences | POV Tina | Ghost Chrissy Cunningham | Letters | Right Person Wrong Time | Unhappy Ending

beyond excited to get to share my fic for @sapphicstevents' stranger things sapphic mini bang!! writing it definitely fought me for a while but i'm really proud of this fic.

so here's the first chapter and a cover i threw together to post it with! the whole fic is up on ao3 here, and @hullomoon has been amazing and created a podfic of the work for anyone interested in listening <3

---

Chapter 1 : A Pack Of Green Scrunchies

words: 5,739

June 20th, 1986

Dear Chrissy,

I wish I had known you before everything went mad. 

I think I told you that before, but I mean it now more than I meant it then. It feels so crazy to think that we went through school walking past each other in the halls and not even glancing in each other’s direction. I know that I did the same thing to other kids but it still feels impossible.

My mom took me out to the mall the other day—there’s a mall in this town, not like the destroyed one in Hawkins. It’s full of people and stores and it's loud. I didn’t like it. I always used to find it annoying how quiet Hawkins was sometimes, but I hate how loud it is here. There’s too many people talking and smiling and I can’t see them without thinking about how oblivious I was before I met you.

They were selling scrunchies in one of the stores. My mom was looking for a new purse but I stopped to look at them instead. I bought a pack of green ones because they made me think of you. I wonder if that’s what you would smell like; cotton fabric and lingering perfume from my wrist.

I miss you. 

Tina.

—

The lights in the hospital waiting room hum with an electric static. Even under all the anxious chatter and background noise of the hospital, it’s the only thing Tina can hear. Well, that and the fading ringing in her ears.

Her hands clench and unclench around the hem of her shirt as she watches the minutes tick by. Beside her, her dad’s leg bounces up and down. She’s not sure if he’s aware of her watching him. The man stares ahead down the crowded hall through the chaos as if her mother will suddenly appear there, good as new.

Tina doesn’t say anything, just reaches out and entwines their fingers, letting out a sigh of relief as her father squeezes her hand back. She needs his strength to lean on. It doesn’t matter that, rationally, Tina knows her mother’s injuries from the earthquake were far from the most severe that came through those hospital doors today.

She’s never been more scared than she was when her dad came stumbling out of the rubble, shirt bloodied and with her mom’s arm over his shoulder to support her weight. Tina had been so frantic that she can’t even remember if her mother had been conscious at that point. She was out cold during the drive to the hospital, though; the sounds of ambulances and firetrucks and police cars responding to the destruction weren’t even enough to break her from her state. Her father had somehow remained stoic then, too.

Thankfully, it’s not too much longer before a nurse lets them visit her mom. After hours of waiting, they’re more than ready to see how she’s doing. 

With all the trouble caused during the disaster, her mom is crammed into a room with other people, separated only by a flimsy curtain. Around them, the relieved reconciliation of other patients and their families fade into the background as Tina reaches her mother’s side and grasps at her hand where it lays atop her blankets. 

IVs poke into her skin and wires trail off to monitors she doesn’t even begin to want to look at. Instead, Tina focuses her gaze on her mom’s weary face. She looks tired, eyes rimmed with dark circles that are only accentuated by the pale colouring of her skin. But she seems okay, all things considered, and Tina sighs out in a relieved whoosh of breath.

The nurse goes over her mom’s condition with her dad, but Tina hardly takes in a word—the moment the nurse confirms that her mom will be okay, she tunes her out entirely. Instead, Tina drinks in the sight of her mom, brushing a careful thumb over her scraped knuckles and almost tearing up when her mom gives her a small smile in return.

Eventually, the nurse hurries off again and Tina’s dad slumps into a chair beside the bed. Tina barely glances his way, too scared to look away from her mom, convinced that if she so much as takes her eyes off her, something terrible will happen again.

“Tina,” her mom sighs. “I’m okay. You don’t need to look so worried.”

Tina shakes her head.

“I was so scared,” she manages, voice cracking under the tears she spent so long suppressing. They finally rush down her face in a flood of emotion, tasting salty where they converge in the corners of her mouth.

“Oh, baby,” her mom says, voice softening. “It’s going to be okay now, okay? Why don’t you go and get some rest, you look exhausted.”

Tina can’t help but laugh at that, an ironic, choking thing. “I look exhausted?”

“Well,” her mom smiles before shifting slightly and doing her best to smother a wince. “I’m already laying down and getting rest. I’m more worried about you.”

Guilt stabs Tina’s heart like a blade. Her mom’s the one in a hospital bed, with doctors and nurses hovering around outside to help if needed, and yet Tina’s the one acting like the world’s weighing down on her shoulders. It’s shameful in its own way. 

Tina always thought she was strong enough to be her parents’ equal. She did well enough in school and had plenty of friends; her parents saw how grown up she was and even helped her plan her Halloween parties; her mom told her everything—every annoying thing someone at work said, every snippy little complaint about her dad forgetting to hang the washing out…

And here she is now. Comforting Tina like she’s a little kid in need of a nap and not a seventeen-year-old who should be better than this. So, she shakes her head, plastering on a smile even as her eyes sting with another wave of tears and, admittedly, exhaustion.

Before she can put up much protest, her dad pipes up to agree with her mom. It doesn’t leave enough room for anything more than Tina going along with what they want. Her dad almost follows before he hesitates, catching her mom’s eye. She nods back at him.

“Why don’t you see about finding some dinner for us two? I won’t be far behind you, I just need to have a talk with your mom.”

What is Tina supposed to do about that other than leave? She’s obligated to listen to her parents, even if she wants to stay. Besides, she’s sure she’ll be visiting her mom as often as she can until she’s discharged. 

So, it’s fine. All this is fine.

When she gets to the door, Tina turns and looks back at her parents one last time. With all the other people talking in the room, she can’t make out what her parents are discussing. What she can make out is the way her father’s face pinches into a concerned frown. 

Whatever it is they wanted to talk over without her must be serious. Resigned, Tina sets off in search of the cafeteria. It feels strange, pushing on through crowds of the distraught and the injured. Against her better judgement, her eyes catch and linger on the horror around her. 

Nothing will ever be the same after this, not in Hawkins at least. Too much bad has happened, too much to even let herself think about.

By the time her dad finds her in the cafeteria that evening, the dinner that Tina bought them has long since gone cold.

—

School doesn’t reopen until a week later—a week filled with funerals and clean up and searching for anyone still buried under the rubble. During that time, Tina recovers what she can from her trashed house to cram into some other girl’s bedroom. She should probably count her lucky stars that its usual inhabitant left for college a year ago, otherwise she would be knocking elbows in this little space—seemingly so much smaller than her own room was.

She longs for home: for her corkboard of polaroids of herself and her friends, for each marker line creeping up her door frame dedicated to a year of her life, for her fuzzy blue blanket, and for so many more little comforts that she had taken for granted. Staying here, in someone else’s bedroom while her dad stays on the pull-out downstairs, makes her feel strangely like a jigsaw piece jammed into the wrong puzzle.

There’s nothing to be done about that, with the roof of her house half-collapsed it’s not like they have much choice other than this. She is grateful that her dad’s work friend—Mr. Daniels—took them in, but that doesn’t stop her longing for what she’s lost.

Returning to class brings back none of the normality she longs for, either. Sure, the cracks in the road outside have been hastily paved over for the most part and the classrooms have been deemed safe to return to despite whatever state the earthquake had left them in, but everything has so clearly shifted…

All Tina sees, everywhere she looks, are the empty seats. The ones from kids whose families fled the town are one thing, one type of grief for the friends she’s not sure she’ll ever see again. The rest are something else entirely, vacant seats that will never be filled; those seats offer no question to their absence in Tina’s life.

So far, she has been to eight funerals. Three of them were some of her best friends. She didn’t sleep the nights after any of those. After the last one, she hasn’t been able to bring herself to attend any more; it turns out that there’s only so many bodies you can handle saying goodbye to within such a short period of time.

Mr. Clarke clears his throat, trying to recapture the forlorn attention of the room. Even he can’t seem to muster a genuine smile so Tina doesn’t know how he expects the students to care about any of this. Honestly, she’s surprised the school has even bothered swapping teachers to fill in for staff absences with how little chance they have at passing their exams after all this. If their grief wasn’t enough, having a teacher so clearly unprepared to deal with older kids isn’t going to help them learn at all.

She remembers Mr. Clarke from middle school and almost, very briefly, feels bad for thinking poorly of him. He’d been a nice enough teacher. She’s sure he’s still nice enough, but she just doesn’t have it in her to care about stuff like that anymore. Not after everything. She’s not sure how she fits into this new, broken version of Hawkins; how the hell should she be able to care about how everyone else fits in?

Slowly, the eyes of the class do raise to the man where he stands, squirming at the front of the room, backdropped by the chalkboard covered in scrawled science Tina hasn’t understood a word of. She can’t help but think that their usual teacher would have explained it in a way that made so much more sense to her.

She doesn’t know if that teacher is one of the leavers or worse.

Everyone sits quietly as Mr. Clarke stumbles his way through telling them about the commemorative assembly that is going to be held in the gym. Both schools will be coming together in a few days time to remember their lost friends, or at least that’s the plan.

Silence hangs in the air for another excruciating moment. Then the whispering finally begins. Names get thrown around, ones Tina is sure must belong to the dead.

“Jason,” someone whispers.

“Carol,” says another.

“Nicole—”

The whispering gets cut off abruptly by the scraping of a chair as it’s shoved out from under its desk. Some kid launches himself to his feet and stalks out of the room, eyes red-rimmed. Behind him, the classroom door slams shut on a spluttering Mr. Clarke.

Whispers start up again in the wake of his sudden departure. This time, Tina tunes them out. Instead, she sets her thoughts adrift, steering away from anything too dour to think on. She doesn’t want to deal with this today. They’ve only been back at school for a day. 

She isn’t ready for this yet. It doesn’t feel like there has been nearly enough time for any of them to come to terms with this. How the hell are they going to get through these last two months of school and—

“Tina!”

Blinking back to her senses, Tina looks up, across the lunch table and to whoever called her name. It’s Vicki, looking at her with wide, concerned eyes. She probably should be concerned, Tina can only vaguely recall walking to the cafeteria, she’d been so trapped in her own mind.

“Sorry, what did you say?” she asks.

It’s just the two of them, perched on the edge of a sparsely populated table. Their group used to be a lot bigger.

“I—” Vicki starts, hesitates, and then leverages a painfully forced smile onto her face. “I asked if you figured out what you wanted to do at college yet.”

She wants to wince, to cringe away from the inane topic. It makes her feel sick to pretend that everything is normal. People died, other people got hurt, the town is a mess. Why would they be worrying about stuff like this as if it means anything at all anymore?

“I don’t know. With my mom in the hospital everything’s changed. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

Vicki squirms uncomfortably at her confrontational tone, looking chastised. It makes her deflate a little, feeling suddenly very cruel. Just because Tina doesn’t know how to play at being normal, doesn’t mean she has to be such an ass to her friend over it. She still cares about her and being a bitch is only going to drive a wedge between them. It’s not like she has many friends left after everything, either.

Her hands tremble in her lap and she shakes them out as if that might banish some of her simmering nerves. It doesn’t. With a tense kind of control, Tina pushes up to her feet. Vicki’s eyes swivel up to her, surprised by the abrupt shift.

“Bathroom,” Tina chokes out, trying to tamper down the frustration in her voice.

“Tina…” Vicki starts but Tina is already walking away.

The lighting in the bathroom is dingy and off-putting, and yet the electric buzzing of those fluorescents still puts her in mind of sterile hospital walls. Her mom’s been making a great recovery, she reminds herself. She’ll be home before she knows it. Maybe then everything will start going back to normal.

The porcelain basin of the sink stares, glaringly white up at her as she leans over, splashing her face with metallic-tasting water from the old taps. Her ragged breaths send speckles of water back into it as it drips in trails down her face. She’s probably smudged her makeup now, and it didn’t even help at all.

With a choked sob, Tina turns her face upwards, meeting the paled expression of her reflection; eyes wide, droplets of water clinging to mascara-tinted lashes. But that’s not all she sees.

A sick feeling of horror settles deep in her stomach as she notices something from the corner of her eye—something hovering behind her, in the corner of the bathroom. The room had been empty when she came in. Heart hammering, startled by being snuck up on, Tina whirls around to see—

Nothing.

Just an empty, dingy, school bathroom. The green doors of toilet stalls stare back at her impassively as she clutches a hand to her chest, willing her racing pulse to settle.

It was nothing. It was her mind playing tricks on her. It had to be nothing. Because if not, how could she explain that fleeting glimpse of the ghost of Chrissy Cunningham?

—

Tina’s pen taps restlessly against the Daniels’ kitchen table, the only sound in the eerily silent house.

Sharing a living space with another family comes with all the chaos one would expect, with each of their routines clashing loudly and incompatibly as they stumble around each other each morning and night. And yet the quiet moments like this are almost worse, when everyone is out working or visiting the hospital or whatever else it is these people do. Aside from Tina, it’s empty. Abandoned, almost, like the rest of this god-forsaken ghost town.

She scratches a frustrated line through her pitiful homework attempt and pushes it away across the table, out of sight and out of mind as she stares distractedly out the window. The chair she sits on creaks as she leans to the side, trying to look out into the street. Usually at this time of the evening, kids would be running around, excited and playing in the warm spring air. Usually parents would be seen and heard, trying to cajole their kids inside for whatever they had cooked up or ordered in for dinner.

Tonight, there is nothing but a creeping sunset that paints the sky a dull pink, like drops of blood diluted in a lake of blue. There is no one finding time to play, and no one enjoying a peaceful evening, and Tina’s parents aren’t here. It’s just her, alone with her anxious mind.

She should be at the hospital, trying her best to be there for her dad and checking in on her mom. But going there again and again felt like poisoning herself, losing herself in worry that would set her heart pounding and mind spiralling. It doesn’t matter to her scared brain that she knows her mom is doing much better, she still can’t help but feel sick with worry.

And she’s so tired. It makes visiting her mom so difficult because her mom gives her this pitiful, concerned look whenever she sees her like this. Tina just can’t take that; being a burden to her parents instead of a place of support. They have nothing to be worried about, really. It— She’s just tired…

She can’t sleep with worrying about if something happened to her mom in the night, or if another earthquake might come to completely level this damn town. And what’s more, her mind hasn’t been able to stray far from the thought of what she saw—or what she thinks she saw—in that damn bathroom. Any time her mind has a chance to wander, her thoughts get inevitably dragged back to that sight.

She had only glimpsed her for a fleeting moment but that had been enough. Enough to see the shape of blood splatters on her cheer uniform and the inhuman pallor of her skin… Now, every sound—every creaking shift of this unfamiliar house, every car driving by, every sudden noise—leaves her jumping, expecting to see something horrific around her as if she’s being tormented by some twisted apparition. She hates it.

She should know better than this, she doesn’t even believe in ghosts! Whatever she saw must just be a trick of the mind. And yet.

With a frustrated groan, Tina pushes her chair out from the table and stands. Sitting around like this is doing her no good, either. It’s like she can’t escape any of this worry for even a second. Or, at least, she can’t when crammed into too-small rooms that have no space for the shape of her grief.

Her loaned keys chime against each other as she snatches them from the countertop. She just needs to get out of the house, walk around and clear her head. Maybe then all this anxiety can start to dissipate and the memory of that hallucination will fade.

Locking the door behind her, Tina wanders off in whatever direction her feet decide to take her. 

The air is clear outside and she hopes that might ease some of the tension that she has been holding, coiled and aching, within her. It’s hard to remember that she doesn’t need to be prepared for something awful to happen, because chances are nothing will.

She wishes she believed that.

Every time she blinks back to awareness, she finds herself on a different stretch of road that she can’t recall making the conscious choice to head to. This walk clearly isn’t doing anything for her. Clear her mind? What a ridiculous idea. How the hell could a place as fucked up as Hawkins bring her any relief, no matter where she might go or what she might do? It’s like the only thing her body knows how to do here anymore is to run on autopilot—to keep her body moving as her thoughts keep on spiralling.

She stills, taking a frustrated breath and at least trying to keep track of where she’s ended up. Her eyes scan her surroundings, taking note of how the efforts to fix up the town haven't reached this far yet, great deep cracks still clear and precariously crisscrossing the roads, splitting the asphalt open to reveal the exposed bowels of the earth.

It’s not something she’s that surprised by. Ahead of her, the road turns off into the trailer park. It makes sense that no one has prioritised fixing up things around here. With the abandoned yellow streamers of police tape, catching and glinting in the golden hour, it’s only too easy to remember what happened here all too recently.

Tina cringes at the sight of them, dancing in the gentle breeze like they don’t know what they mean. Like they don’t know a girl was massacred inside that place. Still, she can’t quite tear her eyes away. For a long, breathless moment, she just stares, caught in the bone-deep wrongness of that place. And then, like ice slithering down her spine, a stomach-churning feeling of horror settles upon her. It takes a hold in her chest before she even realises the cause of it.

Just barely visible from this far away, lingering in the window of the Munson’s trailer, is the shape of a person, standing stock-still. The longer she stares, breaths shallow and fast under the weight of that settling dread, the more the distant shape seems to resemble a girl, its silhouette becoming more convincingly feminine as that agonising second draws out longer and longer, running on forever as her gaze refuses to budge from the sight.

It’s like time has stopped. 

Tina doesn’t realise she’s stepping away until her feet scuff against the uneven ground and she nearly loses her balance. That, at least, is enough to break her out of her trance even if the terror sinking into her stomach refuses to dissipate; she rips her gaze away from the trailer as if burned. It feels like the shape of that figure is scorched into her retina now.

Unwilling to look back at that window, Tina runs.

—

Sitting through the commemorative assembly in the school’s gymnasium is like pulling teeth. Every word jars her, striking through with pained awareness of how overcrowded the room is playing host to two schools and yet not nearly as crowded as it should be.

She feels like an exposed nerve, too vulnerable for this. Her eyes burn with exhaustion and the threat of tears.

At some point she stops listening entirely, too mentally overwhelmed as she tries not to think about anything at all if it will get the ringing in her ears to stop. As she looks down at her hands, the shadows cast by the lines of her palms form a dark echo of the blood and grime she remembers from that day. She had to trim her nails as short as she could to get rid of the last traces of it.

When they’re finally dismissed, the end of the speeches coinciding with the end of the school day, Tina lingers behind at a shout of her name.

Waving over at her from through the dispersing crowd is Vicki. There are strained creases around the corners of her eyes as she weaves her way to meet Tina but she valiantly keeps a smile in place, something more than Tina can say for herself.

“You want to tag along with me? I’m heading to meet Samantha, she snuck some of her parents' booze in all the confusion so we’re going to meet up and let off some steam.”

“Samantha Stone?” Tina clarifies. “Since when do you hang around with Samantha?”

Vicki scoffs. “Since almost everyone else is gone.”

Tina presses her lips together to keep the sudden roll of nausea at that blasé statement at bay. Vicki seems to pick up on it, her expression dimming marginally with her concern, but she chooses not to question it. Instead, she strides on, head held high.

“Anyway, we all have people’s memories to drink to. I cannot deal with the aftermath of that stupid assembly while sober. So, you coming or what?”

Tina takes a steadying breath and follows. After all, it’s not like she’s got any better ideas. 

The crowd that gathers at the edge of the school’s field is a mishmash of different people, most of whom Tina has only ever seen around each other in the classroom or at her own parties. They seem to clump together uncertainly, stilted conversations offered between each other about inane topics that Tina doesn’t have the energy to entertain.

Regardless, she loiters around with the group, accepting whatever drinks get thrust into her hand and taking great gulps to avoid joining any conversations. Listening is more than enough, if you can even class what she’s doing as listening. 

Everyone else, at least, seems on the same page about getting shit-faced. As the hours creep by, shoulders finally start to slump and the group gets rowdier the drunker they get. Bottles are uncapped with grandiose claims of them being in honour of someone who couldn’t be there with them.

Silently, Tina raises her own drink, the faces of her friends flashing in her minds’ eye. 

At some point, Vicki leaves her place at Tina’s side. She looks up to see her, arms interlocked, with Samantha and laughing the way she only does when she’s really tipsy. For a second, Tina considers going over to talk to them, but when she gets up from her spot on the bench her body feels clumsy and uncoordinated. It’s probably better that she stays here, leaning against the seat for support.

There’s another kid who could probably benefit from the same. He’s pale aside from a splotchy flush to his cheeks as he stumbles ungainly out from the tree line.

“Didn’t get lost taking a piss then?” his friend taunts as he wobbles his way back over to their side.

“I think I just saw a ghost,” he says in a daze.

Everyone laughs at that. Tina tries not to think at all.

The sun is creeping towards the horizon and Tina is far too many drinks in when the nausea finally hits her. It feels like a physical thing, crawling its way up her throat.

“Shit,” she gasps, floundering up onto her feet at last and heading blindly into the trees. At least there she might have just a smidge more privacy in her shame.

Her sneakers shuffle over uneven earth, hesitant at first until the need to puke becomes too much and she hurries further along, with all the uncoordinated grace she can muster. Knees meet the ground and an arm braces against a tree as she sucks in deep breaths. They slowly soothe the sickness away. In the end, she’s not sure if it’s better or worse that she didn’t actually vomit.

Head still hazy, she looks up and widens her awareness back to her surroundings.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she says, clambering back to her feet, as she spots them.

It’s a girl. It’s too far away to be sure but she looks to be dressed in a cheer uniform, at least from what Tina can see. The girl is curled around herself, sitting with her back against a tree and her head in her hands.

This could be it. This could be that same hallucination. 

Tina should just go—whether or not this is real, she just needs to leave it alone. If this is just some other student from their drunken group, then her crying is none of Tina’s business. Hell, she’s had to step away for private moments herself and it’s not the sort of thing you want to be walked in on. And if this is Chrissy, then… Well, then that doesn't bode well to think about.

Leaves and twigs crunch underfoot, stealing any stealth she might have managed, as Tina approaches. Not like it matters, the girl doesn’t react at all, as if she can’t even hear her.

The closer she gets the less she can deny it. That strawberry-blonde hair, held back from her face by a green scrunchie; that small stature; the familiar cheer uniform, speckled with somehow still-red blood… She may not have known Chrissy personally, but Tina had certainly seen her around enough to be able to recognise her.

She slows to a stop, looking down at the figure of her. From here she can see that her head isn’t actually in her hands. She’s covering her ears, muttering something under her breath that Tina can’t quite make out without getting closer.

Tina’s mouth opens to speak but she finds it suddenly dry, her throat barren. She clears her throat, the sound perversely loud in the atmosphere around her.

“Chrissy?” she manages finally, voice little more than a whisper.

Chrissy’s head snaps up to look at her, eyes wide and frantic. Her whole body tenses, posture coiling and shifting as if she’s preparing to bolt, and for a moment Tina feels that same need to flee echoed in herself. Neither of them do.

Tearful, blue eyes take in Tina’s face before some of the fight seems to drain from her, slumping infinitesimally against the tree behind her. Tina, though, doesn’t relax and her alcohol slowed mind fumbles to come to grips with the sight before her.

Chrissy, where she sits in the leaves and dirt and forest debris, is so pale. Every so often, the very vision of her seems to flicker in Tina’s sight, as if the girl herself were not fully corporeal… trapped between this world and the next.

“Are… Are you real?” Chrissy breathes, voice small and broken.

The irony of that startles a laugh from Tina before she can help it. 

Shouldn’t she be the one asking that? Chrissy is the dead girl out of the two of them. If either of them should be mistrusting their minds right now, it should be Tina. Because if ghosts aren’t real, as Tina had always believed so strongly, then how can Tina be facing this right now?

“Am I real?” she scoffs, voice bordering on hysterical. “You’re the dead girl here.”

“What?” Chrissy asks in that same crushed tone.

“You’re dead,” Tina tells her, because what else is there to say?

Somehow, Chrissy seems to pale further, as if blood was rushing away from her non-existent face.

“No. N-no. I’m not, I can’t be. What are you talking about?”

“You died. In the Munsons’ trailer.”

“You’re lying. I’m right here—I can’t be—” Chrissy’s voice becomes shrill and stricken with panic before an anger steals over her features. “This isn’t funny. What kind of joke is that? I just—I need to get home.”

Tina scoffs, almost disbelieving, and steadies her swaying against a low-hanging branch.

“I went to your funeral. You’re dead. And I must be going crazy…”

The last part comes out half as a laugh, half as a sigh. It’s a fact she’s resigned herself to uncomfortably quickly, but what other explanation could there be? People don’t just see visions of dead girls sitting around and telling them they can’t be dead if they’re not mad.

Chrissy’s expression glazes over, seeming to be lost in her own mind as a fresh wave of tears give a new shine to those mournful eyes.

“You’re lying,” she says again, but this time she sounds more defeated than accusing, like it makes sense to her even if she doesn’t want it to be true.

Or Tina’s mind thinks Chrissy shouldn’t want it to be true—if Chrissy’s ghost actually was in front of her, that is. But she isn’t, because that would be preposterous. She’s just had too much to drink, and she’s been feeling paranoid, and it’s not as if she’s been able to rest since all of this began.

She doesn’t know why she’s indulging this in the first place. 

Her mouth opens to say something to that effect. Surely she has some smartass comment about it all, but all that remains in her mind are the wispy impressions of the thought as she tries her best to reorient herself. In the end, she gets nothing out before a voice calls out for her. 

Damn, she’s been out here for too long. She’s not even really sure how much time has slipped away without her notice between her leaving the gathering and ending up where she stands now.

Right, that decides it, she’s leaving. This—all of this—is something she doesn’t want any part in. Not ghosts, or hallucinations, or whatever any of this is and certainly not while she’s drunk. There are a thousand more important things she could be worrying about, she chides herself as she turns on her heel and sets her eyes on the way back. In fact, she’s mid-step when a feeble voice calls out for her.

“Please, don’t go. I’m scared to be alone…”

Tina pauses, her heart pounding.

“I need to get back,” she says; to herself, because there is no one else there. 

For a moment, Chrissy is quiet. Tina almost thinks the hallucination has finally dissipated when she speaks up again.

“Will you come back?”

Tina’s heart stutters in her chest. This isn’t real. None of this is real. She turns to look behind her and Chrissy is gone, not even a trace of her to be seen. 

“Tina!”

“Yeah,” Tina replies, the words mumbled to herself, as she finally unsticks her feet from the ground to return to the group. 

---

chapter 2

[wilcze-kudly]

https://www.tumblr.com/miss-sweetea-pie/755138140549808128/something-that-ive-been-thinking-about-is-how?source=share

Hi! Apologies, but I've decided that I would no longer be responding to having zk takes sent to me! I started doing these bcs people sent them to me and I saw other people doing it and, don't get me wrong, it was fun to write analyses based around them, after realising that posting a link to the OPs blogs might put them at risk of harassment/hate, I don't think it's worth the cheap thrill of spending like half an hour researching the symbolism of La Pietà and then infodumping it.

This doesn't mean I will stop doing analyses cokpletely, but if you do have requests for me to do them, please just send an ask containing a subject, not a link.

I will be still writing metas about Avatar, but I think I will be trying to remove myself from the Kataang/Zutara ship war. While it's fun to pick apart arguments and research filmography etc, the animosity between the two sides is genuinely quite upsetting and I've noticed its been taking a toll on me. I just find it very suprising how many people view Zutara and Kataang as some sort of dichotomy.

I will still gladly talk about Aang, Katara, Kataang and Zuko, but I want it to be less in terms of going against someone else and more because I genuinely love these characters.

I don't like that I may have contributed to someone getting hate over a questionable, but ultimately rather benign take and I also don't like how I've handled certain conflicts and situations.

I also know that a certain zutara shipper has access to my blog, despite me having blocked them particularly to avoid conflict, which is very cool and not at all disconceting.

So to that person, if they may be reading this, I genuinely apologise for reaching out to you when I did, it was never my intention to cause you discomfort or upset. I had previously seen some of your metas on other characters and I enjoyed them and found your points intriguing and wanted to learn more about them. I apologise for using the term "arguing in bad faith", because I may have used the term incorrectly, trying to express that you didn't seem to interested in discussing the subject, which I understand, as I was the one reaching out to you. I apologise that I missed any cues of discomfort or unwillingness to engage. I take responsibility for that and I mishandled the situation and may have gotten too pushy. I just wanted you to know that I never wished to come off as disingenuous or pushy or make you uncomfortable in any shape or way.

[mossy-aro]

ultimately i think my insistence on aro positivity honestly is as much a political stance as a personal one.

when i say aro positivity is crucial and that i dislike doomer-ist posts that express sentiments like 'I hate being aro so much I wish I was dead instead’ it's not because I don’t think there can and should be a space for negativity and acknowledging self-hate, or the many ways being aromantic can really suck sometimes. i find that to be very important!

that being said. there is smth here about how self-hate posts are sometimes just arophobia that we inflict on ourselves. and when we put that out into the ether it (intentionally or not) can become arophobia that we inflict on other members of the community. i think there absolutely needs to be a place for negativity and the expression of anger and frustration and self loathing even - these are all good things to talk about because these are things that we experience. that being said, it can also be genuinely upsetting and triggering to people to have what is essentially arophobia shown to them and then have that be validated by other aspec people. your personal thoughts can affect your wider community on a level you may not anticipate. and i understand it i truly do! it took me so long to be able to recover from accepting being aroace - it threw my entire world off kilter and made me question everything about my place in the world.

but my insistence on aro joy and positivity is because ultimately i do believe that building is at the core essence of it all. that ultimately discussions and the purpose of community should be about construction, not destruction. and this is both a personal and a political stance. talking about how much you hate yourself and cultivating online discussions/spaces where negativity about aspec identity is the main and only theme is destructive - if that’s where we let the conversation end. these thoughts can and should be used as a vehicle to look for a path forward!

joy and positivity create a space where the focus can become on forging a path forward, on construction, on community building instead of tearing ourselves and others down with negative thoughts. it’s not productive or healthy when it stops at a place of negativity - it becomes actively destructive to the essence of community.

and i do think that this is especially poignant considering the fact that being any kind of queer, but especially aromantic (and/or asexual) means forging a path for yourself and making your own happiness where there is no obvious way forward. our communities exist mostly online (right now, anyway), there is little recognition of our existence in the real world, the effects of amatonormativity are both pervasive and actively dehumanising, and there are legal, economic and social structures in place actively making our lives more difficult. yes that all sucks! it’s good to acknowledge that. we need to in order to change it. but more importantly, that’s not the end. we are still here and our happiness, our future is for us to determine. even if we can’t change the laws or society, loving yourself and understanding aromanticism as a political identity (as well as personal), as a radical worldview, and as a protest against amatonormativity is essential for both community and personal well being. the personal is political.

tldr. i guess my point is that as a community, we should focus on building, improving, and nurturing ourselves and each other (construction) as opposed to destruction. we should recognise aromanticism and asexuality as political identities as well as personal ones and rely on community and self-love in the absence of anything else as a form of protest and political power. destruction (the recognition of everything that is wrong) is essential as a starting point - but where do we go from there? we rebuild.

[hashtagloveloses]

im still kind of in disbelief that that the internet like...turned on lore olympus. i get the whole "once something is popular people make it their personality to hate something", and the "incredibly online people make age gap discourse about immortal gods bc they need to touch grass," and you're certainly not obligated to like it, it's not everyone's cup of tea, but like. it is a genuinely good comic. its issues are no worse than like, most serialized web comics that have to struggle with the medium, and its art style is engaging and interesting, and has improved a lot over time. i know there was a very t*rf-led movement on here a LONG time ago starting discourse about greek myths to get crypto t*rf shit about femininity across and i know thats where some critiques come from. and it's weird that many criticisms of "modern retellings" get blamed on lore olympus bc it doesnt actually follow them - like, demeter isnt some crazy bitch, she's a character with complexity and depth.

yes the original intent of the story is changed, a story that women in ancient times could relate to about the fears of marriage, but LO actually does what modern retellings of old stories do best - modify a story to serve a similar purpose, but reflecting the modern audience's contemporary issues. in this case, embracing the complexities of love and marriage as a survivor of sexual assault, something many modern women struggle with. persephone's relationship with demeter ALSO reflects a very real struggle many modern young women have, of finding identity and sexual agency as an adult when your entire life has been controlled by a helicopter mother, even with the best intentions, and with her own trauma.

i also find the criticisms of the body types and sexuality often misogynistic and weird - people want things with a distinct, interesting style, they want women with sexual agency to be promoted and not sanitized, and yet LO gets over-criticized. how persephone dresses, how the other gods dress, changes a lot depending on level of confidence, mood, etc, and is a part of the storytelling in an interesting way. you don't have to like it, and i know there's jokes about the LO art style of drawing women, but i have a body like some of those bodies. i know other people who do, or at least similarly. it's not like a lot of comics or manga or anime where everyone is a stick, and they get to be sexy! it's nice!

and when people complain that its the only webcomic people read well then thats a YOU problem. i read a LOT of webcomics. i talk about them to people, i recommend them. romantic and otherwise. do you? do you spend as much time complaining about lore olympus as you do talking up other cool webcomics that deserve attention?

[moodr1ng]

i totally understand that when discussing the sex lives of gay people, there is a very large overemphasis on a top/bottom dichotomy to the point that many people (especially cishets and lgbt people w little experience in the subject) believe that all or at least most lgbt people are exclusively tops or exclusively bottoms, and i understand wanting to correct that misconception, especially because part of the reason it is so widespread is because cishets assume that in same-gender relationship one person must always be "the woman" (who therefore exclusive bottoms) and one "the man" (who exclusively tops). i understand wanting to make people understand that for many if not most gay people, switching is natural and enjoyable and that these roles are not usually so strictly defined.

but ive seen far too many people say things like "we take turns like normal people" or "im normal i just switch" - with that specific phrasing of "normal" or very similar wording - and i really want you to consider that that is a very hurtful thing to say. there is and has been a longstanding disdain for men who exclusively bottom and a specific disgust for men who bottom in sex with other men, as well as disdain for stone butches and stone fems, who are often treated as regressive, selfish, reproducing heterosexuality, or inherently sexually disordered. people (especially wlw) who exclusively top or bottom are often treated as if their sex life cannot be satisfying, as if they are sexually defective, as if their boundaries are unfair to their partners, as if they have some sort of sexual issue that they need to just get over. before you say something about how switching is "normal" unlike the supposedly immature or regressive people who dont switch, please consider that there is no "normal" sex, that it is not more progressive to put norms on how people may have sex, and that what is most unhealthy for all of us is to tell people that their sexual boundaries and the things theyre not comfortable or willing to do during sex make them abnormal. as someone who is a stone top in large part because of sexual trauma, some of you honestly make me feel like shit about myself for not wanting to be topped, and i dont think thats "normal".

[agravetokeep]

Pt 1 / ?

[nonomives]

Hunt vs. Hunted AU

(a.k.a. Vampire Wally AU)

Meet the Kardashians—i mean the Pillars

Part 1 || 2 || 3

Character line-up (Oldest to youngest)

So a bit of character Info:

There were more of them, but given the dangers of the monster hunter's profession, theyre the only ones left.

Hannah Pillar

She isn't the actual eldest sibling of the bunch, but among those who are still alive and somewhat sane, she is the oldest. A former mercenary whose main weapons were firearms. She was quite successful in her career but a traumatic incident happened that led to her not being able to weild a gun anymore. She eventually got hired as a desk worker in H.A. (Hunter's Assossiation) mainly handing out missions or intel to monster hunters.

She has a stable relationship with all of her siblings, sometimes the person everyone tells their worries to. She's nutruing and mature, but can also be quite cold and strict when need be. She is also often apathetic to things around her, something that got carried over even after she stopped being a hunter.

Harvey Pillar

Acting second oldest, Harvey is the genius of the group, or so he constantly claims himself to be. There is truth to what he says though since he works as a researcher in H.A. where he gathers information about the various mythical creatures the company had captured. Once, he used to admire this type of work until witnessing a thing or two which led him to be quite nihilistic. He's mainly just in it for the bragging rights and the money now.

Complete drama queen. Heidonistic and arrogant, he can come off as an asshole once he opens his mouth. Hannah keeps him in check most of the time. He does try to act like a big brother but struggles to be sincere about anything because he thinks it's a weakness. Very insecure, easily gets envious, especially of Howdy. For as vocal as he is, he does have many skeletons in his closet.

Howdy Pillar

A very popular hunter that is crowned The Hero of the Century, succeeding his late older brother, Howard Pillar. This is all due to his countless instances of saving people from dangerous monsters, especially feral vampires. Add this and his family background, he was made the H.A.'s face man, appearing in many interviews and posters for the company. He is quite the busy man, and Hannah usually acts as his manager, helping him with his packed schedule.

Howdy is closest with Hannah, but he also enjoys the banters he gets with Harvey. Charismatic and witty, many would think he is a perfect person, the ideal hero. The reality of it though is that Howdy is only in it for the revenge of his deceased siblings. While he smiles and acts relaxed in public, he is otherwise serious and gruff. Doesnt trust easy either. He also doesnt like how the media portrays him and would try to avoid being detected by anybody while he's on the job.

Here's a sketch lol

Honey Pillar

The youngest of the group. She is the black sheep of the family, refusing to associate with H.A. or monster hunting in general, and choosing a career as an actress instead. Despite the controversy that came with this decision, Honey ended up becoming famous because of her alluring personality on the screen.

Aside from Hannah, she despises everyone. She hates Howdy especially because of an instance that lead to her twin sister's death and her loss of 2 arms. She hates Harvey a little less but prefers not talking to him at all. Honey is a drama queen herself, but in a less direct way.

[dreamsy990]

some of the less nice thoughts about being aroace

extras below the cut

sketch

closeups on my favorite panels

bonus: adios

[slavhew]

i like ms paint but i like mspaint-esque pressureless brushes more.

exclusive never before seen art process snapshot under cut.

this is what it actually looks like in the canvas. it was a warmup for a larger thing and took way too long so my frustration is justified i think

[wizardsimper]

Anytime I see bg3 fanart of the companions that excludes Wyll:

[oceanwithouthermoon]

maybe its just me but i cant stand when people are like "it just doesn't sit right with me how teruhashi thought about aiura 🥺" like yes... its not supposed to ??? because her thinking badly of other girls and prioritizing male validation over everything is one of her main flaws ??? can we talk about that WITHOUT making it seem like shes not allowed to have a single actual flaw without suddenly becoming an awful person? nobody can handle complex female characters at all and its so fucking annoying

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 784: The first day's mountain

Pag 1

3: We're passing through the riverside road

4: I see it

6: Kaka

7: Ah!!

8: Teh!

9: It's the first day's

Pag 2

1: “mountain”!!

Pag 3

2: As we “promised”!!

Pag 4

3: It's the “first day's mountain stage”!!

4: A year ago

6: Manami-kun said it after the finish line, on the third and last day of the Inter High, when both of us were all worn out and barely still on our bikes

Pag 5

1: But having our race at the end on the final stage is too much pressure

2: Next year, if we both have the chance to run in the Inter High....

3: …. yeah

4: Let's race for the mountain stage on the first day

Yeah

5: Like Toudou-san and Makishima-san last year

Onoda!!

Manami-san!!

Pag 6

1: Manami!!

Manami-san!!

2: Onoda!!

3: He collapsed!!

Manami!! Take off his helmet

It's okay, I caught him

Onodaa!!

Onoda-san

Do we have a towel?

Danchiku, water!!

4: Next year... the mountain stage on the first day.... yeah

5: Got it....!!

Pag 7

3: When you run along a river....

4: the water only flows if there's a difference in elevation, either uphill or downhill!!

5: Here it's definitely uphill!!

Even if it looks like a flat at first glance, it's gradually climbing!!

Pag 8

1: Toward that mountain!!

Reading the map, it says that it's 5km until the base of the mountain!!

2: 5km!!

3: Don't lose sight of it like last year!!

Yes!! Sorry!!

4: Hold on tight!!

5: 'Cause I'll carry you all the way to the foot of the mountain!!

Pag 9

1: Thank you!!

2: “Positioning”....!!

3: When going from a flat to a climb you need to “position” yourself

Each team accelerates from the flats in order to bring their climbers to a good position

4: It's the so called “mountain's launching pad”!!

5: There will be a difference of several hundred meters in the first stage between a climber who was launched near the front of the group and a climber who was made to run up from the back of the group

Pag 10

1: Bring Onoda to the best possible position, Naruko!!

Oh-

Sohoku is moving up!!

Pag 11

1: -ruaaaagh

Ugh!! Sohoku's Naruko is so fast!!

2: I get what you're tryin to say, Hotshot!!

I'll take him!! Definitely!!

3: That's why I left the first result to Kabu!!

4: On that winter day, with an apologetic face

5: Ah....

6: Ah- uhm, I have something to tell you, but

Onoda-kun, who told us like it was difficult to say....

Pag 12

1: Ah the stove? You can just turn it off, we're the last ones

Yeah, please. Woah, look outside, it's snowing

Seriously? It must be cold

2: That's not it!!

3: Th-th- this morning... I got a text

4: What was that, an acceptance letter?

The proficiency exam?

5: It's a reply to the text I sent....

6: Three months ago!!

7: Uhm... really, I was worried that back when we made that promise it was right after the race and we were tired, so I thought maybe he had forgotten

Three months?

It was a long wait

So I sent him a text to ask him if he remembers?

Pag 13

1: And I received it this morning

Must be the proficiency test

Shut up!!

What are you whispering idiot

“Back when”, when was it?

No idea

2:He said only one word, “of course”

4: So, uhm... this time

5: Is it okay if I run for the first day's mountain stage during this summer's Inter High?

7: Is that so? Kakaka

Onoda-kun's eyes, like he couldn't contain his excitement...

Pag 14

1: I haven't forgotten it!!

2: I can't forget it!!

3: Onoda!!

Onoda-kun!!

Pag 15

1: 2km left until the foot of the mountain!!

2: Do your beeest....!!

Aren't they climbing at an amazing speed!? Each team is getting in line!!

Yeah, you're right!!

3: Every team is trying to “position” themselves for their climbers!!

“Position”!?

4: Also, look closely

Right now, the cyclist in the second position in the ranks

Pag 16

1: is the one who will race in the mountain stage!!

Pag 18

1: Oi, are you kidding me? Hakogaku is sending Manami?

From the first day!?

Manami is in second place

2: He's the “final boss”....!!

3: My dream of getting the red bib has been destroyed even before reaching the foot of the mountain....!!

4: Oi, look over there, that's not all!!

For Sohoku....

5: Naruko is pulling the “King of the mountain”!!

Wa- we're done for!! Completely!! My mountain prize!!

Pag 19

3: Manami-kun!!

4: Sakamichi-kun!!

Pag 20

1: It's time for our promise!!

We're almost at the foot of the mountain!!

[usercelestial]

tbh i think a lot of the people saying "well both sides are wrong"/"bt stans are just as toxic" are just not exposed to other perspectives in this fandom. as a buddie fan who's been watching this show since s1, i can safely say that buddie fans have always been toxic. like as fact. to me, to say that bucktommy fans are just as harmful or just as annoying or just as bad as buddies consistently are is just. delusional. indicative of at worst a biased opinion and at best an uninformed one. buddie has been here since s2 and fans have ruthless ever since. bucktommy has been here for 3/4 of a season and for the most part, stay in their lane. i'm sure there are bucktommy fans who suck, like that's just being on the internet, but you have to be blind to ignore how insane buddie fans are and genuinely how much worse they are in comparison.

i don't want to generalize and i think constantly adding that disclaimer is annoying as hell bc obviously i'm not talking about everyone but because buddie has been here for so long and taken up so much mental space of very die-hard, passionate fans, you're going to see much more intensity on that side. after season 5, i had to step away from the fandom and the show because of how frustrating it got. it was annoying to see people swear up and down buddie will be canon by the end of s3-no wait s4-no wait s5-no wait- and ultimately it sucked my enjoyment out of a show i otherwise enjoyed because i got swept up in the Buddie Of It All and forget about why i watch the show to begin with. we've been left to stew in our theories and now we can't tell what canon and what's fanon anymore, and when the show reminds us, the disappointment and frustration kills our hopes.

i was also active in the dan and phil fandom and supernatural fandom, like ik why people think we're annoying and it's because we are. we make everything about the one thing we like, we comment on every post begging for it to become canon, we're violently disappointed when the show doesn't play into our fan theories because we've convinced ourselves buddie is going to happen by the end of the next episode or actually the end of this season or actually maybe the end of the next season. we've torn a part every female love interest, either making them boring or making them unlikeable in our fanon. all that to say is that when people call us annoying, they're telling the truth and when bucktommy fans say buddie fans are toxic, they're coming from a sincere place. i mean we can't even enjoy our own ship because we're so quick to get our hopes up and be let down about something as stupid it becoming canon. who cares if it becomes canon, just like it to like it.

and it makes sense why there's perceived "toxicity" on the bucktommy side. our energy is being matched; the obsession, the passion, the surge in fandom. if you don't like it or even just find it annoying, i suggest you guys look back on your own posts and comments and behaviors towards other people in the fandom and other characters and unbiasedly compare it to the Toxic Bucktommy Shippers you're claiming you hate. if bucktommy fans are obsessive, it's because we've set the stage for that. if bucktommy fans are getting aggro and defensive, it's because buddie fans have been on the opposition and don't know how to turn it off. we've gone from underdog to bully somewhere in the last 6 seasons.

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies