#they sometimes do realize how mean they’re being/recognize said ally as a friend BUT THEY NEVER SAY IT TO THEIR FACE. JUST TO EACHOTHER.

[jvnkless]

currently going down a bitter casgirl rabbit hole cause I’m nostalgic and it reminded me of one of the reasons why spn sucks so much: it’s lack of perspective. More specifically perspective outside of the boys.

Because I think despite spn being The Bad Person Show™️ it really does not budge when it comes to making the boys, along with their decisions, righteous in some manner. I know this isn’t true all the time but like generally. Particularly whenever they have an ally that they pretty clearly selfishly use without supporting or even thanking them while they’re still around.

Like, I think the last time they properly thanked & apologized to an ally would’ve been Bobby (I could be wrong about this statement btw it’s been a minute since I’ve watched the show). In an episode that, mind you, forcibly took away their perspective in favor of Bobby’s.

Like, we couldn’t just see them be good people & be good to Bobby, we had to wrench the entire fucking narrative for a moment just so they could do so. Jesus Fucking Christ Dude.

[markantonys]

path of daggers chapter 7-20

perrin seeing a woman who looks exactly like an older version of elayne getting all huffy about andor and the lion throne: huh, wonder who she could be

for real, if perrin had hung out with his best friend’s girlfriend one (1) time in tear he totally would’ve heard the name lini, or if he’d hung out more with mat and asked about his trip to the palace he would’ve heard the name tallanvor (pretty dumb of morgase’s party to not ALL go by fake names just in case), and he would right now know exactly what’s what. talking to your friends saves lives, people! this also goes to show how cut off perrin is from the other characters - rand, mat, egwene, or nynaeve would’ve either recognized morgase on sight or would’ve quickly pieced it together from having heard elayne talk about her mom and lini.

i’m hankering sooooo bad for a trakand family reunion now that they’ve all gone down/been forced down such different paths. the 3 kids especially - 1 being a whitecloak, 1 a tower aes sedai ally, and 1 a rebel aes sedai means they’re all 3 on opposing sides of each other, and i really want to see that dug into beyond the brief elayne and galad encounter in book 5. i’m dyyyyying for elayne and gawyn in particular to cross paths again, it would hurt like a BITCH and boy do i want that pain (although, poor gawyn, elayne is his raison d’etre in his pov and in her pov elayne NEVER thinks about him lmao). give me my Siblings Torn Apart By War angst!

i am probably the only person in the entire history of the world to read wheel of time and think “you know what this needs? MORE gawyn.” i just think he’s neat.

tallanvor is so annoying to me and i don’t know why. i just can’t stand him for some reason. genuinely think it might be a lingering grudge from that one time 5 books ago when he scolded mat for putting a flower in his hair. anyone who denies my boys the opportunity to wear flowers in their hair is my enemy for life (looking at you, green man).

me, knowing full well that mat is not in this book and is nowhere near ghealdan, reading that perrin sees a man in a broad-brimmed hat approaching: [beyonce meme voice] MAT???

but it turns out to be elyas. also pretty dope, i will admit! i’ve been wondering if we’d ever see him again. whoa i 100% forgot he used to be a warder.

we learn for the first time that the warder bond can be masked and that this is handy for sex. perrin is shook to realize that aes sedai fuck sometimes jfkgh

“i love her! why would i shout at her?” aww perrin ❤️ this is the most reasonable thing any wheel of time character has ever said on the subject of romantic relationships lmao also, elyas is the king of showing up out of the blue and infodumping key knowledge to help out perrin’s life, first with the wolf stuff and now with saldaean culture (although i thought perrin already figured this out from meeting faile’s parents so i’m not sure why he’s still like “wait, faile wants me to lose my temper sometimes????”)

tangent but i’ve seen many people annoyed that elyas was pushed to s2, arguing that it delayed perrin’s storyline, but i disagree. in the book it was SO RANDOM how this wolf guy just showed up and was like “hey kid you can talk to wolves” before perrin had even noticed anything on his own. i much prefer the show’s approach of perrin figuring it out a little by himself in s1 and then getting a proper mentor in s2 (at least according to casting speculation). and say what you will about laila and all that, but it 100% gave perrin a real and scary reason to be afraid of violence and his own strength, as opposed to book perrin who’s just like “i’m Very Big and that could cause problems if i’m not careful.”

faile telling perrin under her breath what to say so that he’ll look smart in front of alliandre hjkfg girlboss/malewife rights! they really are such a wonderful ship at their best, it’s a shame their worst is so bad.

alliandre going “wow perrin is so good at daes dae’mar” when perrin was actually spending the entire conversation thinking “oh my god i have no idea what’s going on faile help” this is such tgh rand energy i love it

“if not for perrin, faile thought she might actually have liked [berelain]” god i want that.............what is the POINT of this love triangle which 2 of 3 parties don’t want to be involved in! why can’t berelain and faile just become friends!

constantly annoyed by how the Bad Aiel Women (sevanna & co) all Wear Too Much Jewelry and Expose Too Much Bosom and Care Too Much About Silks, and how this is brought up every 5 sentences during every single scene they’re in

“[cadsuane] had not met many people she considered formidable, but sorilea was one. perhaps even a match for herself, in some ways.” game recognizes game! if only lini could be here to complete the trio

“strong endures; hard shatters.” “[rand] confuses them. he needs to be strong, and makes himself harder. too hard, already, and he will not stop until he is stopped. he has forgotten how to laugh except in bitterness; there are no tears left in him.” 😭😭😭😭 baby boy............

“the storm was coming? light, [rand] was the storm!” SEXY!!!! as always, rand pulling rank and yelling at people and ordering them around is 🥵

i yearn for soft rand. i’m wildly into hard rand. i contain multitudes.

literally sobbing over rand being close-ish to ebou dar and knowing that the seanchan have taken it over. go stop them! go rescue mat! be his knight in shining armor!

rand sits on a table, Rand Bisexual Sitting counter +1. man i can’t wait to watch josha’s rand sprawling about in chairs wearing fancy silk coats. and pulling rank and yelling at people. that’s gonna Awaken something in me.

nice to catch up a bit with the black tower, if by letter instead of in person. kinda wish rand had spent more time there so we could’ve seen more of what the training is like. we learn that a lot of them are either dying in training or are slipped poison in their wine after showing signs of madness 💔

rand hears about the damage done by elayne’s unweaving, though he doesn’t know the cause. UGH (avi)matrandlayne are all SO CLOSE to each other and yet so far! it hurts!!! fuck you, pattern! weave them back together right now!

“not a mild tone - [rand] could not manage that - yet heartening, he hoped.” 😭 “you’ll be with me to the last battle. i promise it.” i’ll admit i accidentally saw the fate of the character he’s addressing (if i’m remembering the name right) while flipping to the end to see how many pages the book was, but even if i hadn’t that’s a Character Death Toll if ever i saw one lmao

“rand had not realized he had spoken any of his thoughts aloud.” this happens SO MUCH in these books and i go crazy every time. no one does that in real life! in all my 25 years on this earth i have never once had a train of thought, heard someone respond to it, and went “oh gee i didn’t realize i’ve actually been talking out loud this entire time.” agh! i guess rand maybe gets a pass for potential madness reasons, but for all other characters this happens to there’s no excuse!

egwene’s dream: “rand wearing different masks, until suddenly one of those false faces was no longer a mask, but him.” 🗡️💔

“recently all of her dreams about mat were pale and full of pain, like shadows cast by nightmares, almost as though mat himself were not quite real. that made her afraid for him, left behind in ebou dar, and gave her agonies of grief for sending him there” mat my baby 😭😭😭 mat and egwene’s friendship is so good, there really is so much love there. and nynaeve too with her grief about leaving mat behind earlier. kinda makes me laugh how mat is way more besties with egwene and nynaeve than with his alleged Actual Bestie perrin, who has not thought about him for several books and vice versa.

hilarious how everyone was so upset about the hot weather but now that winter’s back they’re like “no actually this sucks.” mat didn’t have his life ruined in ebou dar for this! show some gratitude you bastards!

egwene’s like “we gotta get rid of the three oaths, i love lying” lmao bless her. interesting debate with egwene pointing out rightly that the oaths will put them at a severe disadvantage against the seanchan and that being able to lie has helped her and siuan immensely vs. siuan pointing out rightly that the oaths are the only thing that keeps aes sedai in check and gives the general public any trust in them.

“where was gawyn? was he well? was he warm?” egwene being extremely relatable! (to nobody but me)

the Year of the Four Amyrlins! my inner roman history nerd is delighted

talmanes and other band members have Felt that mat needs them, a tugging south towards him, whoa! i think this is the first instance of a non-rand ta’veren pull. now if only mat would pull rand and elayne to him............

egwene smacks down the hall and makes them declare official war on elaida. YES so satisfying to see egwene showing them how steely she is after all this time of pretending to be weak and easily manipulated!

elayne rides mandarb with aviendha behind her, arms around her waist 🥰 interesting that elayne is sharing a horse with aviendha instead of with her warder (who’s sharing with nynaeve) 👀 i’m going to continue my Wingman Birgitte vision and say that this was birgitte’s idea as a matchmaking attempt.

“she and aviendha combed and brushed one another’s hair - a nightly ritual for near-sisters” your daily reminder that the maidens also told rand that his brushing aviendha’s hair would be considered an intimate romantic gesture “and then they snuggled tiredly into the canopied bed in a small room.” BEDSHARING!!!!! 📣📣📣 BEDSHARING BEDSHARING oh wait nynaeve and birgitte are also sharing that single bed with them. but still, BEDSHARING! man remember the cauthor bedsharing days of eotw? i miss it.

elayne complains about nynaeve’s elbows while sleeping and says that “birgitte flatly refused to change places, and [elayne] could not ask aviendha to endure the woman’s sharp prodding” not even Asking your gf to put up with your friend’s sleep-elbowing, THAT is true love! and i bet part of the reason why elayne doesn’t ask is bc she knows aviendha would trade places without hesitation, THAT is ALSO true love!

“with nynaeve and [elayne] and the other sisters at the head [of the riding party]. and aviendha, of course.” aviendha is just a given in elayne’s mind now 🥰

while traveling through the andoran countryside, in addition to getting info about how much support house trakand has, elayne also wants to learn what the common people’s biggest concerns are 🥰

WHAT on EARTH did elayne DO with that dildo smooth rod ter’angreal that made her wake up in her shift the next morning with everybody amused but refusing to tell her what happened????? give me your theories STAT i must know lmao

we are now 2/3 through the book and nothing’s really happened aside from the bowl being used, avilayne’s exciting escape from the seanchan, and egwene’s war declaration. it hasn’t been boring (aside from some stretches of perrin’s and egwene’s sections) but........nothing..............has happened.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Alabasta (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

crocodile is one of my favorite villains in one piece for a number of reasons, and one of them is because he’s such a threat, the first real one faced in the grand line and one of the toughest in all of paradise. the villains from the arcs before this, like wapol or the agents from little garden, could barely even land a hit on luffy in actual combat. so crocodile is introduced here as an absolute force of nature, a complete contrast to recent villains and a very tangible threat. 

it’s an impression he very much lives up to later in the arc by crushing luffy not once but twice, which only makes luffy’s ultimate hard-won triumph feel all the better. luffy closes a huge gap over the course of alabasta in order to be able to beat crocodile, and giving us a sense of just how strong he is from the very start gives luffy clawing his way up to that level a lot more weight. 

the successive reveals of luffy’s family never fail to absolutely delight me, because in any other series they would almost certainly feel contrived, but knowing luffy, it is absolutely unsurprising he just never happened to mention his relatives. nobody asked! luffy’s unique brand of honesty is one of my favorite character quirks, because he’s very straightforward and in fact can’t lie for shit, but his priorities are so completely off the wall that he winds up omitting highly relevant information completely by accident. 

ace’s scene in alabasta really does impress me. oda’s said in an sbs that he knew ace’s fate from his introduction, which i find absolutely unsurprising given the intricacy of his story planning. that means he needed ace’s introduction to make him both likable and memorable enough in the space of just a couple chapters that the audience would be engaged when he became the focus of the story a couple hundred chapters on despite barely appearing at all in the intervening time, and he really succeeded. 

kohza is one of my favorite minor characters in the whole series, and i think he’s a big part of why alabasta’s civil war plotline works so well and feels so real. nobody on either side of the war actually wants to fight, but everyone has been driven to such desperation that they feel they have no other choice in order to save their country; and kohza exemplifies that. he's a good person who loves his country a lot, and who genuinely likes and cares about the royal family and vivi especially, and the only option he can see to save alabasta is terrible, but there’s nothing else he can do. 

it’s just fun for me to think about the fact that if crocodile was literally anything other than a very skilled logia, vivi would have ended the whole entire arc right here. 

i really like civil war storylines when they’re well-done, and i think alabasta is one of the best ones i’ve seen in media. most of it is down to what i mentioned earlier, about how nobody on either side actually wants to fight but feels like they have no choice but to. nobody here is actually in the wrong except for crocodile, and so until crocodile is defeated, nothing can be fixed- which is what luffy, of all people, is the one to realize. 

sanji’s mr. prince gambit is probably my single favorite part of alabasta, and i think one of the reasons i like it so much is because he basically beats crocodile at his own game. crocodile is terrifying in battle, but before anything else he’s a manipulator. he’s always working from the shadows, always deceiving people doing what he wants, and sanji manages to turn the tables on him and do the exact same back to him, twice. 

also sanji looks great in glasses

smoker and tashigi both get kind of unfortunately sidelined after this saga, but they’re both really great characters in alabasta. (tashigi especially; i’ll get to her later.) much like the rebel army, they’re good people trying to do the right thing in the tangled mess of tension and politics and resentment that is alabasta- and when that means working with pirates, they’ll buckle down and do it, despite how much it might contradict their worldviews. 

i love when events align in one piece so that people who don’t particularly like the strawhats wind up working with them for some common goal (as seen most prominently in impel down), and smoker and tashigi in alabasta are the first and still one of the best examples of that. 

the entirety of luffy versus crocodile round one is so well done. we’re a hundred and fifty chapters in, and although luffy has struggled in fights before now and then, we get the sense he hasn’t ever really been pushed to the brink, and he’s certainly never lost.

and then he does, completely and absolutely, without ever even landing a hit on his opponent, and it hits like a punch. 

oda seems to be a fan of characters just barely missing each other- the similar panel of robin and olvia running past each other from robin’s flashback comes to mind.

i’ve always liked that of all the strawhats, it’s usopp who gets the first “luffy is going to be king of the pirates” moment. they’ve all said it by the current chapters in wano (with the sole exception of robin, i believe), but usopp said it first, and that feels significant to me. he’s always been the one who feels the least secure in his place on the crew, but even so, he has so much faith in luffy. 

nami’s fight with miss doublefinger is pretty silly in places and i think it gets frequently (understandably, it must be said) overshadowed by zoro’s fight with mr. 1 directly afterwards, but i really like it nonetheless. it’s nami’s first real solo fight in the whole series, and once she finds her feet she kicks ass, and i really like that. it feels like a very satisfying development for her, to stand up and risk her life in direct combat for vivi’s sake. 

we’re now almost a thousand chapters in and its my firm belief that zoro versus mr. 1 is still one of the best fights in the entire series. i definitely think it’s probably zoro’s best fight- only his match with kaku compares. the narrative build over the course of the fight, from zoro struggling just to match mr. 1 (and getting shredded to pieces in the process) to cutting him down in one final stroke, is incredibly cool and satisfying to watch. it feels like a very tangible step forward for zoro in terms of ability, like a massive obstacle has been surmounted and, as he himself says, he’s now stronger for it. 

its also very cool that this is, i believe, the first appearance of what is probably observation haki, though it isn’t named or recognized as such. i’m always endlessly impressed by all the little moments of internal consistency that oda manages to sprinkle into his story. 

there’s barely any dialogue on these entire two pages, from crocodile dropping vivi to luffy and pell swooping in- the story is briefly told entirely through visuals- and i love that. it gives the impression of a single tense, frozen moment as vivi falls, which is then broken in spectacular fashion when luffy catches her. 

i really, really like the progression that runs through all three of luffy’s fights with crocodile. the gap between them goes from being impossible, with luffy unable to even land a hit and crocodile basically toying with him; to surmountable but still huge, with luffy able to land some hits but still outclassed; to finally putting them on basically even ground. and every inch of that growth on luffy’s part is hard-fought and hard-won and well-deserved. 

crocodile’s confidence in his abilities isn’t misplaced- he genuinely is that powerful. but if there’s anything we know about luffy by now, it’s that he doesn’t ever give up. it’s very fun to watch crocodile’s dismissiveness turn into disbelief turn into rage and frustration when luffy just won’t die. 

luffy is, additionally, pretty clearly a better brawler than crocodile (which makes sense, crocodile is clearly used to devastating long-range attacks with his powers while luffy grew up fighting giant wildlife with his bare hands), which means that by the time of their last fight, where they’re just whaling on each other in the catacombs and crocodile is starting to get sloppy and desperate and lose control, if anything it’s luffy who has the upper hand. 

zoro and sanji’s dynamic is always a favorite of mine, and one of the things i like best about them is how perfectly in sync they always manage to be when it comes to things that actually matter, despite fighting like cats and dogs pretty much every other time. i’ll never understand people who think they genuinely aren’t friends. 

tashigi is really good in alabasta, okay. she essentially has her own entire character growth arc. she goes from her stance in loguetown, where she isn’t even tolerant of (fully legal!) bounty hunters, to here, where she’s forced to confront that the world isn’t nearly as black and white as she’s always believed it to be, that sometimes pirates are good and allies of the government are bad, and ultimately makes the right choice to help the strawhats even though it clearly pains and frustrates her that she can’t do anything more herself. 

i’ll be forever mad that her only really significant appearance after this in punk hazard didn’t really live up to what her character deserved. 

i really like how the countdown sequence is done. the tension is ratcheting up and up and up as the clock ticks down in the final seconds, panels cutting all over the city to show all the different characters, everyone who’s caught up in this conflict and everyone who’ll die if the cannon fires-

and then the clock hits zero, and we get this panel that’s just... quiet, after all the madness, as we see how vivi stopped the detonation. i think oda is very good at setting up his pages so they have a flow to them, so no matter how quickly you actually read sometimes things feel like they’re going very fast and all happening at once and then it slows down and gives the reader a chance to breathe, if only to speed up again later. i think oda is really good at pacing in general, really, both on a micro level like this and on a larger scale. 

luffy’s greatest strength isn’t really his strength. he’s strong, absolutely, but that’s not really why he wins the fights he shouldn’t win. he wins because he just doesn’t fucking stay down. his fight with katakuri is probably the best example of this, because katakuri has him beat in pretty much every category except sheer endurance, and there as here, it’s that endurance that winds up getting luffy the win in the end. 

i do love that it’s the rain that ends the war. not the explosion and pell’s sacrifice, not vivi’s pleading, not even luffy kicking crocodile into the stratosphere, but the rain, the thing alabasta’s been missing for too long, the thing crocodile stole, the only thing all these people are fighting over. 

it’s crocodile’s symbolic defeat- at the same moment his power is broken by luffy, the stranglehold of dehydration he’s been using to foment war and rebellion is all at once gone, and he’s left with nothing at all, and alabasta can finally find peace and start to heal again. 

i always love the little moments that show, usually without words, just how much the strawhats love each other, and all of them unanimously waiting until vivi is out of sight to collapse so that she won’t worry, won’t see how ragged they ran themselves for their sake, is definitely one of them. 

i adore vivi’s sendoff, because while its sad she has to go, the certainty that someday they’ll meet again and that even if not they’ll always be crew manages to make this scene endlessly hopeful instead (which, i think, is also a good summary of one piece’s tone as a whole, at least in its more serious moments). luffy never says goodbye, after all, and nobody ever really leaves the strawhat pirates. 

i’m really looking forward to vivi’s re-entry to the story. i really, really want to see her reunion with the strawhats. 

hey look, it’s the panel my profile picture is from! 

the mystery surrounding robin and her past is built up in little ways long before enies lobby, from her harsh reaction when confronted with by tashigi to her aversion to being called by her given name to this flashback, of her talking to cobra about her dream. of them, the latter is my favorite, because i think it’s probably the most sincere she is until enies lobby- which makes sense, given she thinks she’s about to die. 

like many things about robin in alabasta, this gets cast in a new light by her backstory. if she dies here, so too does the entire legacy of ohara- but she’s so beaten down and hopeless that she really doesn’t see any light ahead to strive for. there’s no hope left, for her, and the whole world against her. 

and then there’s luffy, who creates hope everywhere he goes, who makes her live anyways. 

this is a hell of a spread to hook us very effectively right into the sky island saga. it’s a perfect reminder of just how much we still don’t know about all the endless mysteries of the grand line, and just how many adventures are still yet to be had.

[jebazzled]

They can’t ALL be serial killers: keeping your villains funky fresh

Ah, villains. Spicy assholes. Tricky buggers.

Villains can be very intimidating to write: writing requires you to put yourself in the shoes of another person, which is one thing to do with a decent person. But when you are putting yourselves in the shoes of a bad one - whether it be someone who is simply not very likeable or someone who functions in an antagonistic capacity to a story or rp universe’s hero - well, it can be uncomfortable. 

I didn’t start writing villains until well into my rp career, and I can’t think of a single character I wrote in my undergraduate creative writing degree who was an asshole. I now write a small handful of them - and like most things, I don’t think writing a villain is quite as scary as we sometimes build it up to be in our minds!

That said, writing a villain is an exercise in nuance, and this is something that is often missing from antagonistic characters. In this tutorial, we’ll talk about what makes a villain, and what makes a villain a well-rounded character. 

Triggers, mentioned largely in passing as examples: criminal activity, murder, assault, child abuse, car accident, drunk driving, animal abuse

What makes a villain?

Generally, when we talk about villains, it’s in the context of a narrative, some sort of overall plot theme where there is Good and there is Evil. Think: Death Eaters, the Dark Side, the Horde, the Daleks, the Orcs, etc, etc etc. For the purposes of this tutorial, I’m talking about characters who serve in that antagonistic role, but everything can also be applied to characters who are just shitty people without a part to play in any larger scheme. 

In a plot context, per Oxford Languages, a villain is “a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.” To be important to the plot, you do have to post, and if that’s something you’re struggling with, you might want to check out my Writer’s Block TED Talk ;)

A villain can have any number of reasons for being Like That: perhaps they were raised with a particular worldview, or were targeted by a negative influence at an impressionable and vulnerable stage, or genuinely believe they are doing the right and good thing. Maybe they’re just an asshole. In-character, your character likely doesn’t identify as a villain (because everyone is the hero of their own story) and in-character, your character might have friends, allies, and others with varying knowledge of your character’s misdeeds. 

However, out-of-character, you and other writers should recognize that your character is a shitty person. Writing one-dimensional, universally terrible assholes isn’t much fun, though. Which is where nuance comes in. 

Give your character other traits than “evil.” 

Unless your character is THE Big Bad - the Voldemort, the Sauron, the Hordak Prime - there is no reason for them to be Ultimate Evil, and writing them as an endless wash of evil will be boring for you to write and boring for other people to read. Your character should be something other than naughty. 

Using my own handful of villains/bad guys as examples, since obviously I take my own advice, and with apologies that 99% of my rp writing is in the HP verse:

Claude is a Death Eater as well as second-in-command of the magical mafia. He’s an expert blackmailer, has no qualms with murder, and can get pretty gruesome about it if he’s pressed to make a point. He also doesn’t drink, is a devoted father (has framed finger paintings in his study! drinks the pink lemonade his daughters love in crystal rocks glasses!), uses weird slang (”beat it, bozo!”) and takes the family spaniel on daily walks through Kensington Gardens. 

Cleo is a Death Eater and a lifelong bully, prone to theft, physical abuse, and with a knack for the Cruciatus Curse. She’s also deeply insecure, with an unshakeable need to be seen as useful; she’s competitive, and she’s horny enough to drop her purist pretense if a Muggle girl is what’s easiest to get her rocks off. 

Sadie is a squib spying on Order-organized safehouses for the Death Eaters. She’s also intensely curious and ambitious, determined and self-directed, and if she doesn’t understand emotions, it certainly doesn’t stop her from understanding how to manipulate them to maintain the illusion that she is not a threat. 

All three of these character concepts are more compelling than:

Veronica is rude, hates people, is outwardly mean to everyone she meets, uses cultural slurs on the regular.

We get it! Veronica is a shitty person! What else is she? In real life, shitty people typically do find camaraderie somewhere, somehow. Maybe Richie is a total asshole but has made a lot of money from his hedge fund, and he is generous enough with his yacht, ski condo, and jet that he has an entourage he thinks are genuinely his friends. Maybe Kaiytlynn is selfish and entitled, but her access to the entire royal family of Spain keeps her gainfully employed, and she’s genuinely good with her bedazzled bra business. Maybe Claudia is a giant racist, and she’s also YouTube’s most popular craft video creator. 

In real life, maybe there are some shitty people who exhibit fully antisocial behaviors and are rewarded for it. But this is fiction writing, and moreover, it is collaborative fiction writing, and Veronica is not a character who is fun or enjoyable to plot with. Antagonistic plots can have more trouble finding their footing than strictly romantic ones - but they can be fun and rewarding, provided that the antagonist is a compelling one. 

Let your character be something other than “evil.”

Give your character a cover.

More specifically than a trait other than “evil,” give your character a cover. By this I mean: give your character an angle that obscures their true colors, something that lures people - good people and bad people - into a sense of safety. 

Give your character something that keeps other characters from taking one quick look at yours and immediately clocking them as a bad guy. 

In real life, it often takes time to realize toxic people are toxic. In real life, people enjoy circumstances that make people less likely to view them as toxic - just look at the number of people who think Jeff Bezos’s obscene wealth is a marker of his merit as a human being. 

If your character commits a murder a week, is actively abusive to everyone they meet, and has no relationships with any other characters who might vouch for them - idk, man, I think your character is going to get caught! If your character is a quiet and unobtrusive owner of a vintage boutique, however? Well, they certainly don’t scream “IT’S ME! I’M BAD TO THE MOTHERFUCKING BONE!”

In the case of my bad guys:

Claude is a doting husband and father, notably not ascribing to purist tendencies that discourage women from work outside the home. He does legitimate work in real estate and investments, in addition to his shady dealings, to have a legally-sound paper trail should he ever be investigated. His family money funds an entire wing at St. Mungo’s Hospital, and he contributes to political campaigns for centrist politicians. He presents as a harmless goofball. He killed a man well before he turned seventeen. He almost went to Azkaban before graduating from Hogwarts. (”Oh, but he’s on the straight and narrow now!”)

Claude’s cover is that he masquerades as a genuinely good person, and a nice person. When people think about his old-money Sacred 28 family and what that might mean for Claude’s political activity, they also think about how he is a Gryffindor - not known for churning out Death Eaters - and they think about how he doesn’t seem intense enough to be a Death Eater. They don’t suspect enough to have much to go on. 

Cleo works as an Auror, and she’s genuinely good at her job - if only because she manipulates cases away from incriminating Death Eaters and their allies and occasionally Imperiuses a contact or two from her days as a Knockturn Alley bouncer to frame them for a crime. She doesn’t use slurs like “mudblood” at the office and doesn’t talk about blood status there, either. She doesn’t pretend to be nice, and her honesty there makes it easier to believe she’s not pretending when she does her job. It helps, too, that she is not Marked. 

Cleo’s cover is that while she seems like an asshole and is an asshole, she works in the agency tasked with eliminating Dark wizards and she’s good at her job, as far as anyone can tell. She is an asshole, but there isn’t reason to suspect she is an asshole who is part of the Death Eaters, and it is not illegal to be a dick.

Sadie goes out of her way to be friendly to every new safehouse occupant, acting as a guide to newbies about how to live in the shadows. She performs the role of caretaker, therapist, and confidant, carefully doling out the reveal that she is a squib for sympathetic effect. 

Sadie’s cover is that she manipulates other people into viewing her as too weak to be any kind of threat, and she intentionally manipulates people into relying on her for support and guidance. 

If your character is not experiencing social repercussions for being an asshole, they need to have a cover. If they are being an outright asshole, this should negatively impact them somehow. 

An outright asshole might be stuck in a dead-end job because no one wants to promote someone who’s not a team player. An outright asshole might be super lonely without the self-awareness to realize that their garbage personality is the reason for their romantic troubles. An outright asshole might not be able to talk their way out of a problem. 

If your character is an outright asshole and experience no repercussions whatsoever, they’re probably a bit OP. 

Give your character a motive. 

Now the big question: why is your character Like That? Like, for real. It’s so easy not to be a dick. Why are they a dick? What’s in it for them?

Yes, some characters might be an asshole because they think it’s fun and they like to watch other people suffer. But if all your characters are like that - isn’t that kind of boring?

If all your characters are like that - are you actually writing distinct, well-developed characters, or are you just spitting out the same edgelord with different faces?

Some of your character’s reason for being a dick can be because they think it’s fun. It can’t be the entire reason. It especially can’t be the entire reason all the time. 

Of course you can come up with a big tragic reason why a character is an asshole - but it truly doesn’t have to be that deep. (Tips on tragic backstories here.)

Of my baddies:

Claude is a purist because someone has to be a lesser class, and it’s sure as shit not going to be him! Claude is a Death Eater because his father saw a business opportunity - both direct work (e.g. the DE contracting Claude and his goons out for a hit, trafficking dark goods, doing deals with purist groups in other magical organized crime outfits across Europe) and indirect work (e.g. having stronger appeal to some of the most influential wizarding families.) He doesn’t love being branded with the Dark Mark (HE is the master of his fate, goddammit!) but hey, it’s a living.

This is a motive centered around financial gain and expediency. Claude is shitty to value money over human life, and he has no qualms about violence - but the motive is not “fun.”

Cleo is a Death Eater because, as a girl from a pureblood family of no importance, she recognizes that many of the people in the Death Eaters are important and influential, and she wants that kind of power. Additionally, she does get a kick out of violence, but she’s a weapon more than she is a fighter: she’s a tool who needs someone to wield her, to give instructions, to give her purpose. The Death Eaters offer both.

This is a motive centered around status and around order - Cleo being a person who needs order externally forced upon her. 

Sadie is working for the Death Eaters because she believes they will win the First Wizarding War, and she wants to secure a place in their new order - ideally something more than she had previously as a squib. She figures if the good guys are really good they’ll forgive her for keeping herself alive - but that the bad guys won’t forgive disloyalty. Also, her boss in the Death Eaters indulges her research in the Dark Arts, which is fun. 

This is a motive centered around security and self-satisfaction. It’s very selfish and cold, but it’s not, like, Sid from Toy Story. 

Why is your character Like That? What do they get out of Being Bad? What do they like about it? What purpose does it serve for them? 

If you can’t think of a reason your character would be a Bad Guy beyond that you want to write a Bad Guy, you should probably rework the character. It’s tricky to write someone who really should just be a Good Guy as a Bad Guy because, depending on your site’s setting, you might end up being a Bad Guy Apologist, leaning into the positive qualities of your character without writing them as an actual villain/antagonist/baddie - and remember, Death Eaters are shitty people! Antagonists antagonize! They should be complex, but you should never lose sight of an abusive class being abusive! 

And finally,

They can’t all be serial killers.

It’s tempting, since we’re writing fiction here and we all love drama, to reach straight for a Big Evil when we’re writing a baddie. They murdered ___! Egads!

If all of your baddies murdered their spouse/parent/sibling, again I ask you: are you actually writing distinct, well-developed characters, or are you just spitting out the same edgelord with different faces?

(If all your baddies specifically murdered a woman, might I ask you to examine this choice? Misogynistic violence is not a shortcut to character development.)

Cast of characters aside - what is it your character does that makes them evil? It is worth noting that bad behavior exists on a spectrum, and to jump to the far end of that spectrum without building the character up to it is often jarring and confusing. There are many, many things your character can do that might contribute to their Bad IdentityTM without killing anyone!

Baby Bads: No one gets hurt in a serious way, but the character is unpleasant. Think: a schoolteacher might not let you go to recess. You might get detention. Examples:

petty theft

general assholery

bullying

lying, small & large scale

general unkindness

minor manipulation for personal gain

Middling Misdeeds: These might cause some harm - physically, emotionally, or otherwise - but there’s some room for smart-talking or otherwise evading major consequences. Think: suspension. Examples:

larger theft and other money-related naughties: money laundering, ponzi schemes, etc

physical assault/battery

blackmail

bribery

large-scale manipulation for personal gain or for fun

hate speech (to be clear, I, JB, think this is way more than middling, but in art as in life, a lot of characters are going to do it and get away with it.)

Terrible Transgressions: The far end of the spectrum of antagonistic behavior. If your character is doing this shit, it shouldn’t be coming out of the blue. If your character is doing this shit, there’s got to be a character-driven reason beyond “flavor.” These are things that would get you expelled and moved into criminal court. A lot of things that are viewed as standard topics requiring a trigger warning fit into this category. 

murder

sexual assault

torture

child abuse

It’s easy in rp, where there are often way more criminal types in a character population than we hope exist IRL, to forget that murder is.... like.... it’s a BIG DEAL. It’s not something everyone has done. And thank dog, right?

If you’re attached to your character being someone’s cause of death, for specific character-driven reasons, you might think about alternatives. For example, if you hope to convey that Brandon Baddie is a callous asshole, instead of having him kill his roommate over a household chores dispute, you might have him drive drunk, hit a pedestrian, get out of the car, see the body, and drive away. If you hope to convey that Sandy Sadist is cruel, you might have her threaten her sister’s dog, but not actually hurt it, enjoying the fear of the sister and of the dog more than she would enjoy actually hurting either. If you hope to communicate that Ruthie Reckless is thoughtless, you might have her driving 100 mph speeding to the edge of a cliff while her father sobs in the passenger seat, stopping just inches from the edge. 

There are so many ways to make a point. If you’re going to kill someone to make a point, do it sparingly, and with very deliberate purpose.

Whether you’re starting your first villain or hoping to hone your villainous sword, I hope you found this tut helpful! Best of luck, and happy writing!

[mrfeenysmustache]

Cold

Written for @sesskag monthly prompts.

January's prompt: cold

Summary: Inspired by a tumblr post theorizing that Sesshomaru may be wearing makeup. I can’t find that post anymore or I would link it.

Can also be read on AO3 and FFN

The air in the cave was dry and warm despite the storm raging outside, but Kagome still felt stiff.

The sky had been dark and heavy all day, threatening at any moment to break open over their heads. A cool wind sliced through the hot summer humidity, whipping their hair into their faces and chilling their skin. They watched with wariness as the clouds churned above them, laced through with lightening and the distant rumbles of thunder.

They’d agreed to continue their journey as they were in a mountainous region with plenty of little caves to shelter in, but they were all on edge thanks to the charged atmosphere.

And then chaos struck.

A band of demons attacked for the shards and their group was quickly split up in the fighting. Kagome was shocked to find herself fighting alone with Sesshomaru when she’d previously been walking with Sango, but he’d long since proven himself a trustworthy ally so she did her best to offer support with her own powers and watched in awe as he took care of their opponents with quick, efficient ease.

And then the rain started.

Thick sheets of freezing rain dumped from the sky and soaked them through to the bone. Kagome panicked for just a moment when she couldn’t see through the downpour, but then a strong arm closed around her waist and she was airborne. She immediately relaxed upon recognizing the aura of her previous battle partner, and he quickly found them a suitable cave for hiding from the rain.

Her relief soon gave way to awkwardness.

She was completely alone... with Sesshomaru. They’d all joined forces some time ago in their seemingly endless search for Naraku, and in that time Sesshomaru had gone from enemy, to reluctant ally, to steady companion. They had what she considered, and hoped he did as well, a tentative friendship. They spoke here and there of things from her time, his life outside of the spider hunt, and even asked each other for advice and clarification on the children they’d adopted from each other’s respective species.

But Kagome was still nervous to be too casual with him, afraid of offending his aristocratic sensibilities by lowering anymore formality than she already had.

She was regretting that right about now as she stood and fidgeted with her hands while he gathered sticks from the dusty cave floor for a fire.

“If you have dry clothing to change into in that pack, you should change into them now. There is a small chamber in the back of the cave you can use for privacy.”

She said a quick prayer of thanks that he wasn’t looking at her to see they way she startled at the sound of his voice. She pressed a hand to her racing heart and looked around, spotting her overly stuffed bag against the cave wall. She snatched it up and scurried into the little stone alcove that was just deep enough to grant her the necessary privacy to change. Once dry and free of her wet clothes she felt much more comfortable, especially at the sight of the crackling fire in the center of the cave. It chased away the rest of the chill and lit the tiny shelter up with warm, golden light.

She sat down near the flames and relaxed further as warmth and comfort suffer her entire being, then she looked up at Sesshomaru sitting on the other side, intent on thanking him for helping her to shelter and building a fire when the words died in a garbled mess in her throat.

“What are you doing?!” She screeched, and he lifted one brow in question, but continued to remove the top half of his clothing.

“Would you rather I sat in my wet clothing?”

“I... I... uh-“ she clapped her hands over her flaming cheeks and looked pointedly away from his bare chest. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that he wouldn’t be as fortunate as she was to have so many extra clothes on hand. It would be really rude to ask him to sit there in wet clothing just because she was embarrassed.

‘Get it together Kagome, you’re an adult now, you can handle sharing a cave with a naked male.’

But when he started on removing his hakama she panicked again.

“WAIT!”

She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the fluffy robe she’d added in sometime in the last two years to wear after bathtimes during the colder months and handed it to him. He sniffed at it and then raised a brow at her in question.

“Its... kind of like a Yukata? People wear them after baths and things.”

He nodded and slipped the robe on, tying the belt around his waist before divesting himself of the rest of his clothes and Kagome breathed a little easier, though he did look a little funny in her fuzzy bathrobe.

He sat down in front of the fire and began ringing his soaking hair out. She felt a pang of guilt that she’d allowed her nerves to keep her from seeing that he was still absolutely dripping in rain water.

‘He killed those Youkai, grabbed my bag, got me to safety, AND built a fire. I’m not being a very good friend right now...’

“Here Sesshomaru-sama, I have a towel you can use. It’ll work better than just ringing it out.”

She met his gaze bravely despite her still pink cheeks as she offered him her towel and he nodded gratefully, pulling it over his head and rubbing it through his hair.

Kagome returned to her place on the other side of the fire and contemplated getting her books out to do some studying, but then Sesshomaru’s hand entered her field of vision holding out her now damp towel.

She took it and smiled up at him, but then his face made her gasp in alarm.

“Sesshomaru-sama! Your stripes!”

He blinked and his hand raised to his cheek.

“My stripes? What about my-“

“No not those, the ones on your eyes.. they’re gone!”

His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment and his head tilted just barely to the side.

“You speak nonsense miko. I do not have stripes on my eyes.”

Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him a moment.

“No eye stripes? How can you say that? They’re the same color as your cheek stripes! They go just across your eyelid!”

“Ah, those. Those are not stripes.”

“Then what are they? Where did they go?”

“They must have come off on the towel. They are much the same as what the slayer has on her eyes.”

Kagome stared blankly at him for several seconds, and then shook out her towel, examining both sides thoroughly until she found what she was looking for.

Two red splotches streaked across the white fabric in a way so familiar she couldn’t deny it no matter how incredible the whole incident seemed.

“Makeup?! Sesshomaru-Sama, you wear eyeliner? This whole time it’s been eyeliner?”

“I have never heard it called thus, but it is an apt enough description.”

“Huh.” She stared at him in disbelief for a moment before simply sinking back to the cave floor.

She eyed him and he looked very strange with nothing on his eyelids. She snorted at that thought.

‘He’s sitting across from me naked in a bathrobe and it’s his lack of eyeshadow that’s making this so weird. Go figure.’

“Do you.... need a mirror to put more on?”

“Thank you miko, but my supply is with Ah-Un.”

“I see. Does it... mean anything? The makeup, I mean.”

She had a hard time looking into his eyes as she spoke to him. It was like a classmate getting contact lenses after wearing glasses their whole life; it looked like him... but wrong.

He shrugged elegantly and spread his clothing a little closer to the fire to dry faster.

“It is not uncommon for those in my station to wear such facial adornments. My father inherited the practice from his father. My mother adopted it when they married. They both passed it on to me.”

“Oh... is it always the same color?”

“It does not have to be, but that’s the color my mother prefers. It is she who supplies it to me.”

“Oh interesting...” Kagome replied, once again eyeing her bag. Somewhere in there was a set of colorful eyeliner pencils she’d bought, intending to gift them to Sango. She’d known the red on her slayer friend's eyes was some sort of makeup, and she was going to ask if the new colors would be something sango would like, but the opportunity presenting itself to her now was too good to pass up.

‘And I can always buy more next time I go through the well.’

“Would Uh... would you be open to trying some new colors tonight then?”

“Come again, Miko?”

Instead of explaining, she dug through her bag until she found the pencils and held them up triumphantly, expecting that to be sufficient explanation. She was rewarded with a flat look of annoyance.

“Am I supposed to know what this is?”

She giggled and then moved around the fire to sit nearer to him, taking out one of the pencils and handing it over for his inspection.

“They’re eyeliner pencils. This is how people in my time would color our eyelids like you do. I have several colors in here if you want to try! I can even do it for you the first time!” She chirped happily, confident he would not take her up on that particular offer.

Her world fell out from under her when he handed the pencil back.

“Very well. I will allow it.”

“S-say What?!”

“I have never used such a device before miko, so I will allow you to demonstrate.”

“Uh.. Okay, that’s fair enough. Any particular color you’d prefer?”

She held out the package and he looked it over carefully before using his claws to gingerly pull one out and hand it to her.

“Green? That’s unexpected. But okay, I can do it. I’ll need you to stay seated and close your eyes, okay Sesshomaru-sama?”

“Hn.” He responded and tilted his face up, and Kagome had to take a deep breath to calm her once again racing heart.

She was struck by the realization that she’d never seen him this close before. She’d always found him beautiful in a very distant sort of way, but this close up he was positively stunning. His face was relaxed and trusting, and she felt touched that she’d made herself someone he could let his guard down around; his lashes were long and dark against his cheeks, and his chiseled jaw and nose were softened by skin that seemed too perfect and unmarred for such a battle hardened warrior.

Her hands fluttered around his face a moment before she found the nerve to force herself to touch him, resting one hand against his cheek to steady his face while she poised the other over his eyes. With as steady a hand as she could manage she pressed the tip of the pencil to his lid and pulled it across. A green line followed behind until she reached the end of his eye.

She switched sides and finished off the other eye, making sure they matched and that one line wasn’t longer or thicker than the other, and then she smiled in accomplishment that this whole thing hadn’t turned out to be a disaster.

“Alright Sesshomaru-Sama, I’m done.”

His eyes opened and her breath caught. The firelight reflected back at her, illuminating the otherworldly gold of them in a way that left her stunned. They looked just like a diamond she’d seen once during a trip to the mall as a child, it was large, clear and yellow, and it reflected a million pinpoints of rainbow light just the way his eyes were doing now. They shimmered and swirled and the only thought they left in her head was that she can’t believe she’d ever thought of these eyes as cold.

She cleared her throat and took a step back to give herself some space to breath, turning away to pull her mirror from her bag.

“H-here you go, you can use this to see. It’s very, very different from usual, but I have to say, the green look really nice with your eyes.”

Her cheeks warmed again but she met his gaze resolutely before he looked into the mirror at his reflection. He turned his head from side to side and examined her work then hummed under his breath in approval.

“This color is pleasing.”

“You can keep the pencil then. You can have all of them if you like.”

He took the package again and looked them over, drawing out another one.

“Your turn.” He said, gesturing for her to sit in front of him.

“Uh, pardon?”

“Sit Kagome, this Sesshomaru will return the favor.”

“Oh, you don’t have-“

“Sit.”

She did as told, swallowing down the explosion of butterflies that threatened to swarm up her throat and choke her.

She’d spent far too long isolated with the inhumanly beautiful Lord of the West, she desperately needed to rain to stop so she could get some fresh air.

He tilted her chin up gently and her eyes fluttered closed. She felt him press the pencil to her forehead, and in just a few moments he bid her open her eyes and look in her mirror.

She gasped again when she found that he’d drawn on her brow a purple moon that matched his own perfectly.

She looked back up at him in confusion, and found him staring back with a small but soft smile.

‘Oh my...’

She had a feeling that there was a meaning she was missing, but she decided she wouldn’t worry too much about that for now, this day had already been too much.

She looked back at the reflection of her new moon and grinned.

“Thank you Sesshomaru-sama.”

They relaxed into comfortable conversation, shared some travel rations from her bag, and then finally the storm broke just after Sesshomaru was able to redress.

Mere moments after the last drop fell from the sky, Inuyasha and the others came racing through the entrance, a million questions about what had happened and if they were safe. “What the hell happened to your face?!” Inuyasha shouted incredulously at his first look at his brother, but when Sesshomaru simply stared at him he huffed and rushed them all outside to hurry on their way.

She hugged her friends in greeting, shouldered her bag, and slipped the package of makeup pencils into Ah-Un’s saddle bag.

They were set to go, a few last rays of sun to spend finding a camping spot, and Kagome was ready to set off with an extra spring in her step.

[demoisverysexy]

An Open Letter to the Person who Blocked Me for Being Mormon

For context:

If you’re reading this, I hope it finds you well.

This letter is mostly for me, so I can get my feelings out. I’ve already talked about this with a few of my friends, and I’m feeling better than I was than when you blocked me. I’m still upset. Mostly because of general trends I see on tumblr of hatred for Mormons. A lot of it comes from ignorance and misunderstanding. Some of it comes from a place of genuine hurt that can’t go unaddressed. I don’t want to be dismissive of those who have faced trauma at the hands of my church. I am one of those people, and I know how deeply pain associated with my church can be. After our interaction, I felt that talking about it would help me process this.

Before I go on, I must be clear that this is not an attempt to get you to unblock me. As nice as it would be to be able to see your blog again – you’re very witty, and I enjoy your content! – I can live without it. This is more a response to the trend on tumblr specifically of hatred against Mormons, and assuming that they’re all bad people who are complicit in every single bad thing that the church does. You just happened to force me to be a little introspective about my church and my relation to it. Thank you for that.

First, however, I would like to clear up some misconceptions:

Your initial joke that prompted me to tell you I was a Mormon was a joke about Mormons and polygamy. The largest two organizations that can be classified as “Mormon,” The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and the Community of Christ (which incidentally allows for gay marriage and has female clergy, though I am of the LDS sect), both disavow polygamy. There are other, smaller offshoot Mormon groups who do still practice this, which is where horror stories of polygamists marrying teenagers arise. These people are also Mormons, though I wish they weren’t, in the same way that problematic Christian groups are Christian, though many Christians wish they weren’t.

I do recognize that mainstream Mormonism has been labeled as a cult by many people, though the reasons people provide generally don’t hold up. Often the proof that people provide of my church’s cult-like nature is to take note of corruption that can be found in almost every church. These issues – such as racism, homophobia, and misogyny, to name a few – while real and important to address do not a cult make. Sometimes the proof is to point towards practices that are demonized in my church, but are practiced in other religions with no comment, or even celebration. Other times people will point to their own experiences with toxic church congregations, and while those issues are very real, they are by no means universal. My experience growing up Mormon was a lucky one in many ways. I personally don’t think that most people who study my church from an academic vantage point would call it a cult. I would consult them on this matter. After all, someone in a cult is rather hard-pressed to be able to tell whether they are in one or not.

Another point often levied against Mormonism is how it leaves its queer members with religious trauma due to its homophobic teachings. I understand this well. I have experienced deep religious trauma associated with my political stances in favor of LGBTQ+ rights (though that wasn’t the whole story). I won’t go into detail about this right now, but suffice it to say, I had a very traumatic time on my mission that led me to a very dark place, and ended with me contemplating choices I would never be able to take back. I’m fine now of course, but I carry those memories with me.

So why would I stay despite all this? Is it because I’m brainwashed? You would have to ask a psychologist about that, but I would say probably not. I knew, and know now, that the ways I was being treated were unfair and wrong. I don’t have time to go point by point to address every grievance I or anyone else has with my church and explain my position on it, as much as I would like to clear the air once and for all on this topic so there is no misunderstanding. Here’s the reasoning that has kept me here so far:

I think that every person of faith must, at some point, deal with the problematic aspects of their church’s history and doctrine. This comes with the territory. Whether it be disturbing stories in scripture, imperialist tendencies, doctrines that chafe against us, or problematic leaders, no person of faith is exempt from wrestling with the history that accompanies their faith. I have studied my church’s history in depth. Many of the horror stories I heard were provably false. Many were true. Where does that leave me?

I believe that God is bigger and better than us. We make terrible, awful mistakes all the time. But I don’t think that makes God less willing to work with us. If anything, I think it means he wants to help us more. He wants to help us move past our histories and become better. My church has a long way to go in this regard. For too long we have been silent when it mattered, and people have been wounded by our silence. Or even the words we have said out loud! If you look at my Mormonism tag on my blog, you will see some examples of what I am talking about. I have been wounded by the things my church has said and not said. It hurts awfully, and I ache for those who have been wounded more deeply than I.

But at the same time, I cannot deny the healing my faith has brought me. Whatever problems my church has – and it has many, deep and pressing issues – it is because of my faith that I am the person I am today. I can draw a straight line from my religion to the positions I hold today. Because I am a Mormon, I became a Marxist. Because I am a Mormon, I became nonbinary. Because I am a Mormon, I became a leftist. I cannot ignore that my religion, flawed as it may be, has led me to where I stand now. I am at the intersection of the hurt and healing the church offers. It is a difficult line to walk. But I hope that in walking it, I can bring healing and love to those who hurt in the ways I do. To let them know that they are not alone, and that they have a friend who can help them wherever they choose to go.

Yes I am queer. Yes I am a Mormon. I am here because I am trying to fix things. If at some point in the future I realize that I cannot change things, perhaps I will leave. I hope it does not come to that. And things are changing. They have changed before, and they can change now. I am confident that my God is willing to lead my church where it needs to go. I hope I can help speed things along. We shall see.

But spreading unequivocal hatred and disdain for Mormons does not help those of us who are Mormon who are trying to fix things. Yes, those who have left Mormonism due to trauma need a safe place to be away from that, and acknowledging the church’s many faults can be helpful to those people. I myself have criticized my church quite vocally. But refusing to listen to the stories of those of us who choose to stay, telling others that we are evil or stupid or what have you, is also quite traumatic to us. We are people too, with thoughts and feelings. It is easy to dismiss us out of hand if you assume we aren’t.

I try to be open about my religion and political stances on my tumblr. See for yourself: It’s a mix of Mormonism, LGBTQ+ activism, Marxism, and pretty much every other leftist political position you can find. Along with all the furry stuff, of course. But despite all this, I am still terrified every time someone follows me to tell them I am Mormon. More than I am to tell them that I’m queer. Tumblr is not representative of how things work in the “real world,” of course, but I have received hatred for being a Mormon there as well. And it’s mostly other Christians. So on the one hand I’m hated by LGBTQ+ folks, on the other hand I’m hated by my church for being queer, and on the third hand (as apparently I have three hands), I am hated by other Christians. I do not face hatred to the same degree from other Christians. I saw it most on my mission. But still, it exists.

(Incidentally, Evangelicals, who you seem to have problems with, and perhaps rightly so, though I have not done a study of the matter myself, largely despise Mormons, from what I have heard. Something to consider.)

I want allies. I want help. I want understanding. If I am to push back against bigotry in my church, I need your help. I need everyone’s help. Fighting bigotry wherever we see it is a worthy pursuit, I think. And if we can succeed, we can make the world a better, safer happier place. I want to fight off the ghosts that haunt my church. You don’t have to fight them with me, but I would appreciate it if I could have your support. It would make my job much easier.

We aren’t enemies. At least, I don’t think you’re my enemy. We both have been hurt by homophobia and bigotry. We live in a capitalist hellscape where police brutality and racism are on the rise. Fascism is looming over the political backdrop, along with the ongoing threat of ecological disaster. I think we would be better off helping each other than going after each other. I ask that you please listen to us when we say you are hurting us. The Mormons you blocked knowingly followed you, an openly queer person who calls out racism and bigotry and pedophilia. Yet you assume we are in favor of those things. Someone can at once be part of an institution while recognizing it’s flaws. (Aren’t we both Americans? Why not move if we hate it so much?) And perhaps we have used the “No true Scotsman” fallacy to justify why we stay. I don’t believe I have. I don’t feel I need to.

I hope that you consider what I’ve said here. I hope we can work together. And I hope that no matter what, you find peace wherever you end up.

Yours truly,

Demo Argenti

[violetwolfraven]

Then I See You Again

33 w/ sprace— requested by @livininmyhead

You’re in the hospital and I’m pleading with you not to leave me and to please just wake up.

Rad. *cracks knuckles* Angst time. I’m gonna write this in a modern AU. Also, don’t fret about this now, but for future reference, to request fics, please, send me asks. Commenting your requests makes it harder for me. I will fill them, anyway, but please use asks in the future.

Tw: Injuries, I guess?

...

Spot was thanking God that Race’s foster mom was so chill, and he didn’t even believe in God.

He had been planning on sneaking into the hospital room if he had to, but Medda just signed him in as a visitor completely legally, meaning he didn’t have to scale two stories worth of brick to even get to the window. He was definitely grateful for that.

Since the second Spot met him, Race had never once been still. He was always in motion in some way, running dance choreography, moving through the five ballet positions under his desk, fidgeting with a pencil or pen or the hem of his shirt...

He was still, now.

It was a stupid mistake. It wasn’t even a mistake caused by human error. It was caused by insufficient funding to the drama club and lighting equipment that needed upgrading and it might cost Race his life.

Spot was going to kill those morons who didn’t give the club the money they needed.

He was sure he could get away with it. Sure, it would take planning, but Hotshot, Bart, Rafaela, and all his shifty friends on the stage crew would help him and confirm his alibi.

Spot forced himself to take a deep breath. Murder wasn’t the answer this time. Not unless Race actually died, and... and he wasn’t going to die. Race was not going to die.

He was not going to die.

A portion of the stage’s lighting had fallen on him in the middle of rehearsal, but it would take more than that to take out Anthony ‘Racetrack’ Higgins.

Even knowing that, believing that, Spot had never been afraid the way he was today.

Spot had looked down from the catwalk to see what could possibly make Jack Kelly scream like that and seen... seen...

Race, pinned under a huge chunk of metal, moving a little but clearly hurt and scared.

In hindsight, the next scream might have been Spot. He wasn’t sure. But suddenly, Kath had 911 on the phone and everyone else was trying to lift the fallen lighting equipment off Race but Spot was frozen.

Everyone else was trying to save Race, but Spot couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even breathe.

When someone finally shouted his name, Spot didn’t know who it was. All he knew was that he was running down and grabbing Race by his shoulders so he could pull him out while the others lifted the set piece and then he was holding his boyfriend’s hand and his head in his lap and trying so hard to keep his voice calm for him as Race was choking on broken sobs and crying it hurts, Spottie, it hurts, help, please, Jack, Crutchie, Romeo, Spot, help, it hurts—

And everyone thought he was going to pass out, but he didn’t. He just kept drifting somewhere in between, sobbing in pain and keeping a death grip on Spot’s hand but not making much sense or really responding when anyone tried to talk to him.

“Most things just are what they are and not what we wish they could be. But then I see you again and a new world starts spinning.”

Spot had ignored everyone’s shock as he started singing quietly, trying to keep his boyfriend calm, trying to distract him, just... anything to make him more comfortable, knowing how much Race loved musical theatre and the songs that came with it.

“Filled with light, filled with you, and the crazy belief that tomorrow is something worth winning. Keeping faith with a new beginning.”

It was a song he’d heard Katherine singing more than once. Some song he didn’t recognize, maybe from some obscure musical or one Kath was writing herself. He didn’t know. He had to sing it an octave lower, but he sang it anyway, and Race untensed a bit, getting quiet and calmer, at least.

“Most things just are what they are, so why not give in and let go? And then I see you again and I know...”

Then the paramedics got there and Race was taken away from him and even though Spot really should have felt good about that, because Race needed a doctor and the paramedics would get him there, it only made him more panicked and he didn’t register that Jack Kelly was hugging him until he realized he was crying, and what the hell, Spot Conlon doesn’t cry, especially not in front of people.

He felt a little better, now, but also worse.

Because Race had a broken leg and several broken ribs, a few of which had damaged internal organs while breaking. Even if he recovered, it would take months of physical therapy to get back to where he was before this happened.

He was going to recover. Spot had to believe he was going to recover. But...

He knew how much Race loved acting. How much he loved dancing and singing. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it for a long time, now.

He couldn’t even start down that long road to recovery until he woke up, damn it.

“Taken out by lightin’ equipment?” he whispered, “Nope. No. No, Racer, you’re not allowed to leave me like this. If you’re dyin’ before your time, or even gettin’ stuck in a coma, at least make it by somethin’ interestin’. Certainly not by some stupid accident that ain’t even anyone’s fault. Race, come on, wake up.”

Race didn’t respond, and he didn’t wake up.

“Asshole. Are ya tryin’ to get me to sing again?”

Race made a pained noise in his sleep and Spot froze.

Judging by the amount of meds the doctors had him on, it wasn’t physical pain. More likely, a nightmare. Spot grabbed his boyfriend’s hand, wishing he could pull him out of it.

“I never said this out loud. But sometimes I just, I get scared. And then I see you again, and it’s like I’m protected.”

Race settled, but Spot kept singing. Because everything he was singing was actually fairly accurate, and... being sappy sometimes was okay, maybe.

It was true that Race had a way of calming him down, whether it was fear he was feeling, anger, or whatever. Race made Spot quiet.

“Seems unreal, you don’t know. Seeing me in your eyes is a prize I ain’t never expected. Makes me feel... what’s the word? Connected.”

Spot had definitely never expected to find someone like Race, who saw his flaws, his rough edges, and cared anyway. Someone who convinced his friends to give Spot a chance. In turn, Spot introduced Race to his crew friends, which meant they both had more people supporting them.

“Most things they are what they are, so why not just pick up and go? And then I see you again, and I know...”

Spot had never been able to admit when he really cared about people. Even friends were just allies, no strings attached, no real caring.

Until Race. Race who blew past all of Spot’s walls and found a way to matter to him so much that he couldn’t deny it. That he felt comfortable starting to let other people in as more than just allies, one by one.

“Up this high, if you try, you could almost believe that our problems are small. Almost believe they’re not problems at all.”

Race was breathing evenly now, his face calm. Spot would never get used to the thought that someone like this, someone who looked like an angel and sure as hell had saved Spot like one, wanted to be with him, some broken kid from Brooklyn.

Well, Race was a little broken, too, but he still managed to mend some of Spot’s fractures and make him feel like nothing was wrong even when everything was.

Spot really wanted to help with the fractures Race had, but... he didn’t really know how. He was still willing to try, though.

“What if we stay really still, and don’t even look at the ground? Not a soul for miles around. We are at the beginning.

How to start, got no clue...

But I know when I’m up here, it’s not about losing or winning. Would you care if the Earth stopped spinning?”

Spot wouldn’t care if the world ended if Race could just be okay, if he could just wake up and heal and smile the way he did when he was actually happy, when he wasn’t performing for anyone and was feeling genuine, unbridled joy.

A truly happy Racetrack Higgins was rarer that it should be, but when you actually got to see it... his smile was like starlight on a clear night, like a sky so blue it’s almost purple, like the warmest kind of sunshine that made everything else just... drop away for a second.

“Not much is certain down there. One thing’s for sure even so. I admit I don’t know when, or how time will pass ‘til then. But I will see you again, this I know.”

That last line felt like a promise. A vow that no matter how long it took, he’d wait for Race to wake up. And no matter how frustrated he got or how much he took out that frustration on Spot while recovering, Spot would stick by him, anyway.

He loved Race enough to stay, no matter what, even when he wasn’t okay, but he really, really wanted him to be okay.

“Please, please, wake up, Racer,” Spot whispered, “Don’t leave me like this. Race, I love you too much lose you like this. Please wake up. Please.”

Amazingly, by some stroke of luck or fate or theatre kid magic, after only a few seconds, Race groaned quietly and opened his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, and Spot wanted to laugh at the cliche of it all, but he didn’t.

“Hey. How you feelin’?”

“Better, seein’ you.”

At that, Spot couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Where’s my family?” Race asked.

“They went to go get some coffee so’s we could have some time alone. I can go find—“

“No,” Race interrupted, “Stay. Please.”

Spot nodded, “Of course. If ya want me to.”

Race was silent for a few seconds, and Spot wasn’t sure if it was because he was preparing to say something difficult or because the pain meds were making him slow.

“How bad is it?”

“You should probably hear it from—“

“No. My mom and brothers’ll try to make it seem better than it is. I know you won’t lie to me, Spot, so tell me. How bad is it?”

Spot took a deep breath, knowing how much Race was trusting him, here, to tell him the truth exactly as it was. He squeezed his hand gently.

“Your right leg is broken in two places,” he said, carefully keeping his voice level, “You’ve got several cracked ribs and some internal damage from where they broke against organs. It’s bad. It might take surgery, and even if it doesn’t, it’ll be months of physical therapy and a lot of drugs to manage the pain.”

Race inhaled shakily, looking hard out the window.

“Hey,” Spot said, “Hey. Yeah, it’s bad, but—“

“Who’s gonna take my role in the musical?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, you idiot,” Race chided, “It’s just easier to focus on that cause if I don’t, I have to focus on...”

“Yeah, okay,” Spot said, hoping to interrupt whatever thoughts got Race close to tears, “Okay. Um... we don’t got official understudies, but... I think Jojo could get your part down within a couple weeks. He’s in most of your scenes as ensemble already. He probably knows all your lines.”

Race nodded, “They’ll have to switch around some dance choreography, but... oh, shit. Shit. I’m dance captain. Who will—“

“Tommy Boy. He can nail down more turns than you, anyway.”

“Ya really think Tommy Boy’s a better dancer than me?”

Spot shook his head quickly, “No, no, I—“

“Relax. I’m messin’ with ya. You’re right. Tommy’s better’n me at turns. I’m better at everything else, but... but you’ll all do alright with him leadin’.”

Spot chuckled, “Only you could joke around at a time like this. Jesus, Anthony.”

“Hmm. Anthony? You must be mad at me if you’re callin’ me Anthony. Well, whatever I did to piss you off, I’m sorry.”

Spot scoffed, “Whatever you did? You didn’t do anything. And I wasn’t angry, Racer. I was scared.”

“Scared?”

They both knew how often Spot actually said that he was scared, even if he was.

“I was terrified,” he admitted, “I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“To some fallin’ lightin’ equipment? It takes more’n that to do me in.”

It took Race a couple seconds to realize how serious he was really being.

“I’m sorry I scared ya, but Spottie, you ain’t gonna lose me.”

“Ya can’t be sure of that,” Spot muttered, “This time a stupid accident almost killed you. What about next time?”

“That ain’t gonna happen, Spot,” Race insisted, “Never. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises ya ain’t sure you can keep.”

Race squeezed his hand, smiling softly, “You’re right. I shouldn’t.”

Spot sighed. Not being able to think of the right thing to say, he settled for kissing the back of his boyfriend’s hand.

“I can’t promise forever,” Race admitted, “But I can promise right now that as long as you want me, you have me. And I’ll do my damn best not to leave you as long as you try not to leave me.”

“If you think you’re gettin’ rid of me before it’s my time to go, you’re crazy, Racer.”

“Well, I am probably crazy.”

Spot rolled his eyes, “My idiot.”

Race smiled sleepily, “Damn right.”

...

In case anyone was wondering, the song is Then I See You Again, a deleted song that was once the jatherine duet instead of Something To Believe In. Personally, I think it would have been a great sprace duet instead. (:

[flightfoot]

Emotional Baggage, Misunderstandings, and Navigating Through Relationships Despite Them: HappyCamper41's "Wanted: A Butterfly And A Cat"

I love what HappyCamper41 has done with many of the arguments and conversations between characters in “Wanted: A Butterfly and a Cat”. Oftentimes ‘good’ characters, ones with good intentions, end up coming into conflict or having a misunderstanding of some sort - but the conflict is reasonable, the misunderstandings have a good reason for occurring, and while characters can make mistakes, they aren’t demonized for them. They’re treated as people, just trying to navigate their world and situations as best they know how.

One of the first major examples of this is with Rena Rouge’s argument with Ladybug in Chapter 2, with how extremely (and in Alya’s opinion, overly) strict and secretive Ladybug is about secret identities, and information that isn’t completely necessary to fight akumas more generally.

“I’m just trying to keep all of us safe-”

“From what?” Rena Rouge interrupted, vulpine eyes narrowing indignantly, “Last time I checked, the three of us are a team. Carapace knowing my identity wouldn’t be any more dangerous than you knowing it.”

Alya doesn’t just blindly accept Ladybug’s reasons. She thinks critically about the situation, looking at it as a whole, instead of merely focusing in on the part Ladybug’s been pushing - that the fewer people know a secret identity, the better.

However, Ladybug’s also able to say her piece, give some more complete reasoning.

“Carapace isn’t the only reason we don’t broadcast our identities on a megaphone.” Ladybug snapped, her voice becoming more and more irritable as the argument continued, “We never know who might be listening in on our conversations- we’ve seen the kinds of crazy powers that Hawkmoth can give his akumas. We always need to operate under the assumption that somebody is listening to our every word.”

“Chat Noir does have enhanced hearing…” Carapace mused, and Rena Rouge shot him a nasty look.

Ladybug HAS a point, one that Carapace even adds to - not a point Rena Rouge particularly likes, but one she’s forced to acknowledge - while also going over why it’s not a good enough reason in this case.

“Look, I understand that you want to keep us safe.” Rena said, taking a deep breath to control her own temper, “But what you just said really doesn’t hold up to any scrutiny. If they can listen in on our every conversation, they could be following us home. We can’t live our lives like this… we can’t place our lives in the hands of people that we don’t even know!” She paused, letting her words to sink in, “Besides, you know who both of us are-”

Rena not only is able to fire back, showing how unreasonable it is to THAT tightly control what info they’re allowed to know while there are other, bigger security gaps that they can’t do much about - it makes the whole “you can’t let anyone have any clues whatsoever about your identity” thing seem more like security theater than anything. She also brings in the deeper reason she wants the rules to be relaxed a bit, one that’s based less on pragmatism and more on emotion. Placing your life in the hands of people you know nothing about is asking a lot, especially when, like in Ladybug’s case, she’s asking for Rena Rouge’s and Carapace’s complete trust, while exhibiting little trust in them in turn - or so it comes off to Alya at least.

“Yeah. I do.” Ladybug said dryly, “And maybe there’s a reason I haven’t trusted either of you to know who I am.”

Ladybug and Rena Rouge’s eyes both widened in shock at the former’s words- until Rena Rouge’s narrowed with spite. Ladybug had always been a bit distant with her two allies, but she had never openly disparaged them like this before. Carapace was certainly a forgiving guy, but Rena Rouge wasn’t one to turn the other cheek in a situation like this.

Ladybug snaps and says something that… well it’s not that she doesn’t MEAN it, but she wouldn’t say it like that normally. She immediately realizes that she went too far, but the damage is done. And while Carapace may be one willing to let that level of disrespect slide in order to keep the peace, Rena Rouge isn’t - but that isn’t treated as being a bad thing.

One thing that really sells Alya’s perspective here is the sentence noting that Ladybug had been distant with Rena Rouge and Carapace prior to this, but hadn’t “disparaged” them before. It frames the conversation squarely from Alya’s point of view, letting the reader better understand where she’s coming from and exactly how she’s interpreting Ladybug’s words. It really helps the reader empathize with Alya, not just on the strength of her arguments, but on her feelings about the situation as a whole.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Carapace stepped between the girls, “There’s no need to-”

“Oh, I think there is.” Rena Rouge growled, elbowing him aside, “You know? We didn’t have to help you, Ladybug! You asked us to fight besides you, because Chat Noir and Hawkmoth are too much for you to beat on your own. The hell do you mean ‘maybe there’s a reason’ you haven’t trusted us!?”

Rena Rouge was ranting now, “We’ve never let you down, Ladybug. We’ve had your back- walking out on friends and family every time Hawkmoth and his pawns decide to attack innocent people! We’ve been through hell together, and you’ll have to forgive me for not wanting to spend every waking hour worrying about my partners learning that I go to a fucking high school!”

Rena Rouge is allowed to be angry. She’s allowed to say her piece, to express her feelings about it - not just on the secret identity situation, but what Ladybug just said to her, the dismissive attitude she had. She reminds Ladybug that they’re not just tag-alongs - they’re a team, and Ladybug isn’t the only who’s been fighting Hawkmoth, who’s had to ditch commitments, who’s had to survive daily life as a superhero. It’s a nice touch, putting it into context, that yes, Ladybug may be the leader, but that doesn’t mean she’s the only one with something at stake here, the only one who should have a say in this. And that fighting by her side, her and Carapace performing their jobs as the Heroes of Paris, should be reason enough for Ladybug to trust them. At least trust them more generally. Especially since Ladybug seems to expect trust from THEM, but will not show it herself.

To Ladybug’s credit, she recognizes Rena Rouge’s feelings and argument, and apologizes for her own words.

Ladybug face quickly evolved- shifting from shock at the outburst, to anger at Rena Rouge’s words, and then to one of pure exhaustion.

“...I’m sorry.” Ladybug said finally, “What I said was out of line-”

“You don’t say.” Rena snorted, and Carapace chuckled nervously.

“-and, for what it’s worth, I trust both of you more than anybody.” Ladybug’s voice was hollow now- and fragile, “It’s just- my kwami told me that these secrets are more important than anything else. I understand why it bothers you so much- really, I do. And there’s a lot more going on here than you might think.” She looked between them cautiously, hesitant to say more.

I love how HappyCamper41 notes Ladybug’s changing emotions during this. It helps to show that it isn’t just Alya having emotional reactions here, but Marinette as well. That both of them are just dealing with these circumstances as best they can. Marinette became angry initially, likely as an instinctive reaction to being yelled at and hostility in general, but once she had a chance to comprehend what Alya said, what she was getting at… well, it doesn’t seem she blames her for it.

Canonically, Marinette has a tendency to think in terms of problem-solving, which is all well and good, but can sometimes misfire when she forgets about the feelings and perspectives of the people involved. I’m guessing that’s what happened here. She wasn’t really thinking about Alya’s perspective on this, her own point of view and feelings, until Alya’s outburst hammered it in for her and forced her to face the emotional issues Alya brought up about the lack of trust, making her recalibrate her thought process.

Which is a good thing! She listens to Alya’s concerns, not only the practical ones but the emotional ones, apologizes, and reconsiders her approach. That’s a mark of a good leader.

Something I also like? Ladybug blurts out the rest of the story, that she’s not supposed to be the Guardian, that Chat Noir’s supposed to be a hero, lays out some of Tikki’s theories, confesses her own fears, the pressure she’s under, and just… like with Rena Rouge before her, she’s able to make her point of view known, but not just from a purely practical standpoint, but from an emotional standpoint as well. Rena Rouge’s and Ladybug’s feelings during this are treated as being just as, if not even more, important than the cold, hard practicalities associated with the situations they find themselves in. It helps to flesh them out, to make them easy to relate to and see yourself in.

And this part at the end of the argument, the reconciliation, I thought was really important and well done.

Rena Rouge groaned internally. Nino was probably right- this was the first time that Ladybug had opened up to them even a little bit, so there was no need to press their luck. But Ladybug’s logic was just so infuriating that Alya could only barely keep her mouth shut. The three of them were a team, and teammates needed to trust each other! Ladybug wasn’t going to accomplish anything by taking the weight of the world on her shoulders when she didn’t have to…

“That was a lot.” Ladybug said abruptly, but offered a somewhat forced smile, “It was still good seeing you guys, and-” She hesitated, and looked straight at Rena Rouge “I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing for me. You were right: you have had my back from the beginning. You’ve risked your lives for me and for this city countless times by now. Questioning you was… really messed up of me.” She swallowed, “I’m sorry, Rena.”

Rena Rouge stayed silent for a moment, her emotions more than a bit confused.

“I… I forgive you.” Rena Rouge said quietly, and Ladybug nodded.

Not everything was completely solved by this conversation. The core issues still remain. But things WERE made better, understanding between both parties was increased. While Alya still wishes Ladybug would trust her and Carapace more, her reasons for wanting that, for pushing for that, have changed - or maybe expanded. It’s less that Ladybug doesn’t WANT to be able to trust them, and more that she feels like it’s all entirely her responsibility, that it wouldn’t be safe to place her trust, and some of that burden, on Carapace and Rena - plus she’s not wrong about there being some risk involved.

Ladybug apologizing, acknowledging that what she said was wrong, that she didn’t mean it the way she sounded, saying how she feels about Rena Rouge and Carapace, that she acknowledges their role in this and appreciates them, was a good step in their reconciliation. There may still be some sources of tension between them, but it’s not based on resentment towards Ladybug - if anything, it’s based more on a desire to help and frustration that she won’t let them.

Also, Ladybug being willing to fully and sincerely apologize? Again, shows that she’s a good person to lead.

One of the best marks of a leader isn’t just looking at whether things go wrong under their command - that denotes being lucky more than anything - but their response when problems DO arise.

A different sort of argument, of misunderstanding and subsequent reconciliation occurs with Adrien and Plagg in chapter 3.

Adrien (accidentally) took away Plagg’s mouth in the previous chapter out of fear of what his father may do to Plagg if he kept on talking. By next chapter he’d managed to restore it, but it still left an impact on the kwami.

“Hey… Plagg?” Adrien called out to his kwami hesitantly.

Plagg didn’t even look at Adrien, instead choosing to continue munching on a slice of swiss cheese as he stared out of Adrien’s gigantic window at the sunset. Fortunately, Adrien had managed to unseal the kwami’s mouth, but Plagg was yet to say a word about the entire incident downstairs.

“Um…” Adrien started, biting his lip awkwardly, “I know you’re probably still mad at me, but I was wondering if we could maybe… talk?” Adrien hesitated, “I didn’t mean to seal your mouth like that, and I just-” Adrien stopped when Plagg continued to ignore him.

An uncomfortable tightness grew in Adrien’s chest. He wasn’t particularly close with Plagg- the kwami generally minded his own business, after all- but the thought of Plagg giving him the silent treatment from here on out bothered Adrien far more than he’d have expected. He stared at Plagg’s back, unable to stop himself from recalling his father’s cold avoidance whenever a young Adrien misbehaved.

In particular, Adrien remembered a time when his father had confined him to his room for an entire week after Adrien (seven at the time) had spilled water on the designer’s sketchbook. He’d seen his mother several times every day- usually to bring him food- but other than that? Adrien remembered spending hours on end staring at the wall, wondering how he could regain his father’s trust.

Why can’t I do anything right!?

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened down there!” Adrien blurted, his voice breaking as he spoke, “I- I didn’t know I could do that to you, and I would never…” He trailed off, unable to stop his eyes from becoming the slightest bit wet, “I’m sorry, Plagg! And I know that you- you can’t forgive me, and I let you down, and you probably don’t want anything to do with me anymore-”

Adrien leaps to conclusions based on Plagg’s behavior - ones he has good reason to leap to, considering that “the silent treatment” and isolation are an established part of his father’s disciplinary method, of his way of punishing Adrien for even innocent mistakes and accidents - much like what happened with Plagg, since Adrien didn’t MEAN to seal off his mouth. Plagg can’t really isolate Adrien, being bound to him, but he can refuse to acknowledge his existence - which arguably is even WORSE with not being able to leave the room.

The part I really like is how Plagg reacts, how it’s filtered through Adrien’s eyes, yet it’s clear to the reader that Adrien’s an unreliable narrator, that his perspective is skewed due to his own experiences.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Plagg finally spoke as he turned around, and Adrien was astonished to see concern written on his kwami’s face, “Adrien, buddy. You need to calm down. Why wouldn’t I want anything to do with you anymore?”

Plagg floated away from the windowsill at high speed, landing on Adrien’s nightstand to face the boy as he paced. The small cat looked both nervous and confused as he studied Adrien up and down, his eyes widening as he noticed the tears in his wielder’s eyes.

Plagg hadn’t expected Adrien to actually break down and panic. Hadn’t thought of it, though knowing Adrien’s background, it was a pretty easily anticipated reaction. He hadn’t really MEANT to cause him that kind of distress, not consciously really thinking about it at any rate. The descriptions in the second paragraph, noting how he “floated away from the windowsill at a high speed”, “looked both nervous and confused”, and noting “his eyes widening as he noticed the tears in his wielder’s eyes”, are highly effective at conveying Plagg’s shock at Adrien’s reaction, at showing how his worldview tilts on its head, him reevaluating how to interact with Adrien, even without words. (Though the words earlier definitely help.)

“I- you- I mean…” Adrien stuttered, blindsided by the kwami’s sudden response. He rubbed his eyes a bit, trying to deal with the tears that were still flowing.

“Listen.” Plagg said, his voice softer than Adrien had ever heard before, “You’re right- I am a bit upset that you silenced me down there. But I know that you didn’t mean to do it.” Plagg shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to respond to the boy’s tears.

Plagg looks at Adrien’s reaction and adjusts his approach. Much like with Ladybug in the earlier argument, he realizes that his behavior, his words and actions, were having effects he didn’t really intend, didn’t mean. And that Adrien’s emotional reaction, his point of view, makes sense and needs to be taken into account. That he misjudged Adrien.

Sometimes you have a flawed conception of someone else’s viewpoint, of how they perceive your actions, one that may not be entirely wrong but doesn’t fully take into account what the situation is like for them emotionally. I really appreciate how HappyCamper41 takes those flawed assumptions, those bits of friction and misunderstanding, and shows ways to try to deal with it, readjust expectations and resolve the situation to an extent, even if some friction remains. You can’t see inside of someone else’s head, to feel what they feel. Best you can do is muddle along as best you can, adjusting your viewpoint and approach when reality doesn’t match it, try to do the best you can.

“You- you were ignoring me just now.” Adrien’s voice was still shaky- accusatory, even- as he regarded the kwami with distrust.

“Shit…” Plagg muttered anxiously, looking around awkwardly as if there was somebody else nearby that could bail him out, “I was- yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t realize you-” Plagg swallowed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here, “I… didn’t think you’d take it so personally.”

Adrien’s evaluation of Plagg’s behavior wasn’t really that wrong - Plagg WAS giving him the silent treatment as a method of expressing his displeasure with Adrien. He just didn’t expect him to take it so hard, though he knows enough that he should have.

Plagg has his OWN emotional baggage that’s affecting his interaction with Adrien. Adrien isn’t the only one who’s been abused, been treated badly. Like how Adrien automatically interpreted Plagg’s behavior through the lens of the most similar example he knows, through his father’s behavior, Plagg subconsciously associated Adrien’s behavior with that of some of his previous wielders who misused him, abused him, used him to hurt others or hurt him themselves. It seems to have been more instinctual than anything - with how Plagg reacted when Adrien started freaking out, being surprised and not having any residual negative feelings towards him, at least that he displayed obviously, he just… it’s his usual coping mechanism, closing himself off from a corrupt wielder. It just took an obvious reminder that Adrien is not by any means corrupt, but is a victim himself, to break him out of that.

Plagg knew this of course. He’s been around Adrien and Gabriel enough to see that. But old habits, especially ones born of trauma, are hard to break.

Unfortunately, Adrien’s association between Plagg’s and Gabriel’s behavior causes him to leap to some conclusions that are obviously incorrect to the reader, but make sense from where Adrien’s standing.

A variety of emotions flared up within Adrien, as he realized what Plagg’s behavior currently reminded him of.

In his early years, whenever his mother was at a particularly long filming for one of her movies, Adrien’s father would be in charge of tending to the boy. Almost every display of emotion Adrien’s part would leave his father painfully uncomfortable if they weren’t outright scolded- as if Adrien’s feelings were so invalid that they were a burden to the man.

And just like those awkward hours Adrien spent with his father back then, Adrien realized that Plagg was only with him because he had to be. The city hated him for a reason, Ladybug saw right through his act, and Plagg would ditch him in a heartbeat if he could.

Why am I such a mess!? Adrien sat on the side of his bed, desperately trying to hide his tears as he buried his face into a pillow. He hadn’t cried in ages, and he wasn’t supposed to- especially not with anybody watching.

Adrien’s taking Plagg’s reacting to his emotional outburst to mean that he was upset, was uncomfortable with Adrien HAVING emotions, displaying them at all, rather than just being empathetic with Adrien and not wanting him to suffer. He’s so unused to people empathizing with him, to feeling bad about making HIM feel bad, and wanting to make him feel better, that he has trouble recognizing it for what it is. The superficial similarities between Plagg’s and Gabriel’s situations don’t help matters.

The detail about Adrien’s background really helps illuminate his psychology here, show how his conclusion makes sense based on what he knows and has experienced, even though it’s incorrect.

“Hey…” Plagg’s voice was softer now, as he landed on the pillow next to Adrien, “Look at me.”

Adrien complied, doing his very best to keep his face neutral.

With the conclusion Adrien’s reached about WHY Plagg’s upset, it makes sense that he’d keep his face neutral - Gabriel hadn’t liked any display of emotion from Adrien after all. Though I doubt Plagg fully realized why Adrien’s doing this - it’s a pretty natural reaction when wary just in general, to try not to show any weakness. Something that Plagg seems to be familiar with.

“I’m sorry I ignored you.” Plagg said quietly, “I’m just… not used to having a wielder like you-” Plagg’s eyes widened, as he realized what he’d said, “In a good way! Most of the kids I end up with aren’t…” Plagg looked around frantically, as though physically searching for the right words.

“They’re not this pathetic, are they?” Adrien said, doing everything in his power not to sniffle, “It’s okay… you can say it. I know I’m a mess-”

“That is not what I was going to say.” Plagg interrupted, eyes narrowing slightly, “Usually… when one of my cats gets upset, they take it out on somebody that isn’t themselves.” He winced, recalling some particularly nasty scenarios, “And… over the years that’s led to some pretty serious consequences.” Plagg sighed, “You, on the other hand- you’re not like that. And I guess I’m just not used to it.”

Adrien blinked, not immediately convinced.

This part is similar to Rena’s argument with Ladybug earlier, with how Ladybug apologized for her statements and gave her background and point of view to help Rena and Carapace better understand her reaction. It’s a very effective way of bridging gaps in understanding, especially ones derived from that person’s own specific circumstances and emotions.

And it’s something Adrien thinks about, tries to understand, see things from Plagg’s point of view now that he has a better understanding of what that viewpoint actually is.

He considered the kwamis words further. Plagg’s power was pretty serious- his father had made that clear the entire time. Cataclysm could destroy literally anything, ignoring both size and durability, meaning that this ring was one of the deadliest weapons in existence.

In the wrong hands… Adrien didn’t even want to think about what would happen.

Bold of you to assume that you’re not the ‘wrong hands.’ A cynical part of Adrien’s mind seemed to mock him.

With what Plagg said, the background he gave, Adrien at least now has a glimpse into Plagg’s previous actions.

“Oh, swiss- I’ve never been the best at these kinds of talks.” Plagg sighed, “Just- just know that I’m not mad at you right now. And while I’d obviously rather we dump the ken doll in the red pants and help Ladybug-”

“Um… what?”

“-I understand that it’s not happening. At least… not yet.” Plagg gave him a pointed look, “But in the meantime? You’re a good kid, Adrien. You keep me fed, you don’t commit war crimes for the hell of it, and you’re usually pleasant to talk to.” Plagg shook his head again, “And given the circumstances… that’s way more than I would’ve expected.”

Plagg’s the adult here, something he seems to just be coming to realize. He’s not used to having to be the nurturing one, the one who needs to be kind and gentle, to boost up his wielder. He’s used to practicing resistance as best he can, or to just being along for the ride.

But with his expectations upended and such a blatant display of how his usual modus operandi isn’t going to work, is a bad fit for these particular circumstances he finds himself in? He adjusts. He makes sure to let Adrien know that he’s not mad at him, that he understands that Adrien isn’t ready to rebel yet, and that he thinks well of him. By next chapter he’s flat-out said he’s adopting Adrien, which sounds like a joke but in a lot of ways seems to be the truth. He’s being the closest thing Adrien has to a good parental figure, since he doesn’t have one currently. He’s the adult in this situation, and he’s acting like it.

We’re all just trying to get through this world as best we know how, making assumptions of what others are thinking and feeling, and being affected by our own experiences and emotional state. Sometimes this causes conflict, even between ‘good’ characters who’re on the same side, who are doing the best they can in trying circumstances. I truly admire how HappyCamper41 has portrayed these situations and look forward to reading more of her writings!

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

The Backstage Pass (Out)

Hey everyone... this is still not an update of Do You Wanna Dance? but another pathetic attempt of me to provide you with PJ-related reading material... Sssooo, there was this post of @gardenofstoney... and I’ve always taken tags verry seriously. I felt addressed since the situation she described sounded absolutely like a perfect fanfic material so I ended up playing with the idea. One thing led to another and a Stone Gossard one-shot happened, which I hereby share with you (with her and @mookiebaelock’s consent). Disclaimer: may contain traces of Jeff Ament!

Ps. I solemnly swear I get Judy out of the shower soon.

„Are you sure you don’t want to move towards the side of the stage? These Vedder-fanatics seem pretty dangerous, I’m not sure I want to be here when they go wild…” Mel asked fidgeting with the setups of her professional camera.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m fine here…” Maggie answered leaning her forehead against her arms that were resting on the barrier. She was dog-tired; she and her best friend, Mel were cueing the whole day to get there at the show of their favorite band, Pearl Jam. Actually, Pearl Jam was their second favorite band but it was the rock group that brought them together. They saw each other’s introduction in the “Pen Pal Wanted” column of Footsteps, the band’s fanzine and the rest was history... And finally, they were there, standing at their precious front row places, waiting for the show to begin…

They agreed on standing in front of the center of the stage since they both had different preferences… Mel was dying to make close shots of her bassist crush (and maybe steal a few smiles and glances from him), while Maggie was interested in the other side of the stage… to be more accurate, in the person who regularly ruled it. Stone Gossard. The absent-minded, aloof alien who played the rhythm guitar parts and who, unfortunately, wasn’t the most responsive member of the band. He was said to be a sarcastic, hilarious and nice guy but at shows he just… didn’t give a shit about the crowd. He was usually absorbed in the songs, following the rhythm with his entire body, marching to the beat or just bobbing his head… but that was all. No interaction, no communication, just the chords. If Maggie had been alone there, she would have picked his side and stayed there as if she had been pinned to the ground… but Mel wanted to stand near Jeff so they made a compromise. Of course, Mel tried every kind of dirty trick to lure her closer to Mike’s and Jeff’s territory and Maggie begged desperately with her irresistible sad puppy face to move in the other direction, after all, if the mountain won't come to Muhammad… and Jeff would bounce around, anyways, she argued. But neither of them could convince the other one so they were stuck in front of the place of Eddie Vedder and they knew they would have to fight hard to be able to keep their position.

“You will defend me, I know.” Maggie cuddled to her friend, letting herself be pulled in a bear hug. She was short and slim, the top of her head barely reached the level of the tall Mel’s chin, that’s why they often joked about themselves being two dogs coming from different species but being allies and best friends forever.

“I’ll defend you just… not now, oh my god, ohmygod, they’re here, that’s him!!!” Mel suddenly let her go frantically taking one picture after another of her main target.

“Okay, I can’t win against Jeff Ament…” Maggie shook her head with a forgiving smile only to discover the object of her admiration appearing on the other side of the stage, walking around with a deadpan on his face. She couldn’t help chuckling when she noticed he was wearing a black socks-dress shoes combo... with light brown shorts. She’d already got used to these weird testimonies of his terrible fashion sense but he always managed to surprise her with a newer unacceptable outfit.

When the singer finally showed up too, the crowd moved forward, pressing the girls against the barrier… and from that moment on, they only had some rest during the slower songs. Not that they wanted to complain, they were singing along the lyrics, screaming, laughing, crying or just squeezing each other’s hand making sure they were not dreaming, they were finally together, having the time of their life, really living their favorite songs. Mel was overly contented with seeing the bass player’s manly moves in the tight tank top he was wearing and the passionate solos and dazed-off moments of Mike pleased both of them too, even if they were within the spitting range of Ed. But as time went by, they both started feeling the depressing thought that this would be over soon, even if they tried to fight against it by bouncing and screaming twice as intensely as before…

When Stone started playing the opening chords of State of Love and Trust, the crowd went completely nuts and Maggie had to tighten her grip not to be drifted… the pressure behind her eased for a second but at once, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head and lost the touch with the outside world…

***

Mhmmmm… what are these bright lights? I must have died and got in that shining corridor about which people who experienced clinical death always tell…

“Jesus, I go blind…” I mumble… or am I just hearing my own thoughts? Shit, this splitting headache, I’m definitely alive, I must have fallen asleep after taking in my migraine pill.

“Do you prefer low light?” a nasal male voice asks and as I look around, I find myself lying on a couch but I’m not in my own apartment, I don’t know this place. Oh, so I’m in a dream, nice, let’s see where it’s going…

“Yes, please!” I groan covering my eyes.

“Clouds roll by… sorry, bad joke, here, is it better his way?”

I take away my hand from my eyes and let them adjust to the pleasant half-light provided probably by a standing lamp somewhere out of my sight. When did I learn how to change the setting of my dreams? Cool… The owner of the voice takes place opposite me only to make me realize, I’m in a Stone dream, moreover, this time it’s a new one.

“Are you okay?” he’s checking me with the inquiring but still expressionless stare of a toad.

“More or less…” I mumble helplessly. Interesting, I’ve never had such a vivid dream about him, it’s somehow different, like I was in charge, I’ve never felt like this before while dreaming… Familiar melodies provide the musical accompaniment, I have to listen for a few bars until I recognize Yellow Ledbetter… but he’s here… and the music comes from…?

“Are we… at a show?” I ask suspiciously, I’m afraid that despite the realistic surrounding, it’ll turn into an incoherent screenplay written by my subconscious.

“Yes, we are…”

“But how come you’re not playing? You should be on the stage with the others…”

“I don’t feel like playing… I mean in that song, I have basically not much to do, I strum the same chords as Mike, it’s boring. At sound checks, sometimes I beg until I can play the drum parts, I’m a desperate drummer but I love it. But the rhythm guitar part is just… nah. Plus, I had to pee, anyways.”

“Fair enough.” I snicker. He’s such an awkward dork, even in my dreams. “Well, that happens if a musician is too busy with drinking beer at gigs instead of playing”.

“Excuse me?” he startles offended. That’s my favorite thing in dreaming, I can do and say what I’d never dare in real life.

“Do you think we don’t notice when you’re just fudging, walking around with the guitar and use the change of amplifier setups as an excuse to take a few sip of your booze? That doesn’t really count as musical contribution.”

“Ugh, busted. I try not to drink before the show though. Right as soon as I get onstage I start drinking. But come on, I never belch out of key, what’s this if not musical humility?”

I snort shaking my head and keep grinning from ear to ear. If he’s such a hilariously funny guy in my fantasy, how adorable he can be in the reality… I know he used to be an annoying, sarcastic little shit but when PJ got really successful, he mellowed down and made himself to the main target of his irony… The mixture of this down-to-earth humbleness and calm confidence was one of the main reasons why he became my favorite member in the band; in the band that only consists of great, relatable people, by the way.

Maybe I should use the occasion to have a chitchat with him, I could ask him questions about stuff I’ve always wanted to know… even if the answers are only the products of my mind…

“Do you see the world in yellow?”

Okay, maybe that’s not the best start but the colored lenses of his spectacles somehow distracted me and it just slipped out. He reacts with that short, amused eyebrow twitch I love… good job, Maggie.

“It’s a good question! It’s funny, nobody asked that before… but to answer it, I do, it’s like being trapped in that moment of sunset when everything is glowing in that golden light… but to be less poetic, it makes everyone look as if they were Lego figures, they have yellow head, y’know…”

The mentioning of my favorite toy brings back old memories about the times when I was building my own town with eclectic houses that served as the scene of the made-up action stories crafted by my cousin and me.

“I you were a Lego figure, you’d be a bad boy.” I remark with a timid smile and try to ignore the fact that my cheeks are in flames.

“Only if I were a Lego figure? That’s offensive. I was the member of the gang Newton Street Boys. We were the most dangerous guys on whole Capitol Hill, we terrorized the district by taking protection rackets from kindergarten pupils. They were scared to death when we showed up riding our bikes, I liked the banana-seat ones with the high handlebars - maybe a card in the wheel could have been part of it.” he chuckles playfully. “Anyway, why a bad boy?”

“It’s because of the scruff.” I giggle and reach out to pinch his neck but he leans away.

“Please don’t touch me.” he grunts.

Hey, brain, we had an agreement: if I behave decently enough in real life, you won’t throw any obstacles in the way of my naughty tendencies at nights. So if I want to touch Stone’s perfect neck, I’m gonna to do it. Period.

“I said no!!!” he repeats this time angrier when my fingers approach his skin again. What the hell???

“Sorry. I… I just wanted to say that there were those bearded figures… and you could get them mostly from the pirate or the police station series.”

“You mean they had an attachable Lego beard?” he inquires confused and excited at the same time; I’m sure he’s already forgotten the embarrassing intermezzo and is now desperately trying to recall the look of the little yellow dudes.

“Haha, no, it was just painted on their face. There was the moustache, the regular beard and the scruff that basically meant black dots on their face. And the scruffy guys always played the role of the bad boys in my stories. You know, the bank robber, the fleeing prisoner…”

“… the fucked-up musician… we should definitely have a Lego party once!”

“We should…” I repeat and we’re smiling silently at each other for a few seconds… I clear my throat and swallow hard since my mouth got completely dry, shit, it must be that damn gum-shield I have to wear at nights to prevent myself from gnashing.

“You want some water?” he asks walking to a fridge standing at the door.

“Fuck, yes, I’m dying of thirst.” I moan and I mean it.

“Here.” he hands a small bottle to me while he opens a beer can. I rather don’t make any remarks, the show is over, after all… But now that I think into it, maybe the other band members will show up too… I can’t wait!

I lower my head and press the ice cold bottle against my forehead. It feels incredibly good, that blinding pain is still pulsing in my head. As I direct my gaze onto the ground, I can’t help laughing again when I spot his dress shoes and the black socks tucked into them. The hem rolled down around his left ankle making the socks look like they were unmatched.

However thirsty I am, I can only take small sips since I’m already snorting at the next part of this weird vision.

“Anyway… before the others would arrive, there’s one thing we have to discuss.” I begin when I finally manage to force my facial muscles into a serious expression.

“Something that stays between us? Like a dirty little secret?” his face lights up with a boyish smile.

“Kind of, if your socks are dirty…” I roll my eyes. “It’s the footwear.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Of course yours, mine is normal. Matching boots, a totally adequate choice for a rock concert. But yours is just… criminal.”

“Don’t be rude with my shoes, they look good and they are comfy as fuck!” he circles with his feet comically.

“They do but man, look in that mirror!” I point at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. “You look like the mixture of an elementary school boy and a bachelor dressed by his mother. Shorts with dress shoes? How? Why? It’s an obvious no-no!” I scream.

“I have only these ones, sneakers and flip flops with me, which doesn’t leave much variation.” he shrugs briefly.

“You should have chosen the sneakers… as for the “f” word, I’m not even willing to pronounce it.”

“I always wore hiking boots in the earlier times, they were the most comfortable choice but they weren’t compatible with the heat on stage. And then, I got introduced in the magical world of orthopedic sandals but the band somehow vetoed them, I don’t really understand why... I was only allowed to wear them between shows and at soundchecks but at gigs, I had to wear the boots… Once, before a show, maybe in Atlanta, I can’t remember exactly, the sole of my boot separated so I could only wear my sandals… the guys freaked out about my velvet shorts-sweatpants-white socks-sandals outfit and obliged me to wear Jeff’s shoes during the show.” he recalls but I can barely listen to him, his hand talk and the fidgeting alien fingers are definitely more appealing than the image of Birkenstocks worn with socks.

As my eyes are glued to him, I involuntarily start playing with my hair but my fingers land in something sticky. I check them and glance at him helplessly, as if he could help me find out why blood is the next nonsense feature in this scene.

“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me earlier that you’re bleeding?” he shouts and rushes to the fridge.

“Because I didn’t know…” I mutter and can’t form further coherent sentences since he steps back to me with an ice bag and presses it to the back of my head… and he keeps standing opposite me with his arms laced around my neck. I’m desperately trying to look at the ceiling, the ground and the four walls at the same time, anywhere but him…

“This is too embarrassing, I want this to finally end… this is terrible.” I whisper in pain, fixing my gaze on the ugly shoes and working on calming down my hyperventilation with all my nerves.

“Hey, I just wanted to help! Just for the record, we don’t often let passed-out fans in the backstage, you were in bad shape and…”

“No, I mean, thanks and all but this dream… it’s going nowhere, it was funny but you entering into my personal space creates a tension that needs resolution, like a hug or a kiss or anything, this makes just no sense!” I blurt out, basically arguing with myself, the director of the movie.

“What? That doctor could finally arrive, you must have a concussion!” he gently tries to push me back onto to the couch but I shake his hands off me.

“What doctor... wait… the pain… the blood… is this… real?” I flail still hoping he doesn’t exist and suddenly disappears or turns into my real crush or Edge from U2 or whatever.

“You got hit with by a half-empty beer can and you passed out so the security personnel fished you out of the crowd. Since I came back anyway, I suggested that they should lay you down here until they get a doctor. You got a backstage pass by passing out. A backstage pass out.” he tries to ease he situation with a pun but I’m not really in the mood.

“No… the scruff… the shoes… the ki… I can’t believe I said all this bullshit, this is worse than a nightmare…” I bury my face into my palms completely mortified and stumble back towards the couch dizzily. Suddenly, I hear a familiar voice… Mel!!!

***

“I’m not going to repeat this again, my best friend is in that room so if you won’t let me in immediately, I’m going to fuckin’ sue you!!!” Mel pointed with her index finger outraged at the huge guy standing in front of the door of the dressing room. Actually, instead of suing, she wanted to headbutt him in the chest but she knew it would feel like running into a concrete wall. She’d already been arguing with him for like fifteen minutes but the guy was just standing there with folded arms, stoically bearing the threats and the various spells casted on him by the furious girl.

“Hey, Ernie, I think you can let her in, her friend has just woken up, it’d be better if she’s with her when the doctor arrives…” a top of a head with ruffled hair peeked out of the door. The security guard obeyed and silently stepped aside.

“Maggie!!!” Mel shouted and tossed the young man in the door away to get a free way to her friend. “I was so worried about you!!!” she captured her into a rib-breaking hug.

“I’m… I’m okay… Stone took care of me…” Maggie mumbled against Mel’s chest trying to point at the guitarist under her friend’s arm.

“Stone???” Mel screamed making both of them turn around without breaking the hug.

“Yup.” the guitarist waved clumsily with one hand at her, digging his other hand deeply in his pocket.

Maggie managed to tiptoe enough to rest her head on her friend’s shoulder, which allowed her to saw the door opening… only to recognize the other members of the band arriving back from the stage. The small group was guided by Jeff who stopped at the door exchanging a surprised look with the embarrassed guitarist standing in the room.

Maggie started silently shaking of laughter because she could already imagine what’d happen next…

“Uhm… Mel… I’m choking… please let me go…” she acted patting her friend’s back a few times. “I think you should turn back… slowly…” she recommended biting her lips to hide her amusement when she pulled away to see the girl’s reaction.

“Why… what…?” Mel looked back over her shoulder and… due to the bassist’s excellent reflexes, she didn’t land on the ground but in his arms. Jeff stared shocked alternately at the unconscious girl and the other ones, begging for help with his eyes.

“Jesus, not again… “Stone sighed facepalming.” She’s yours, I’m out.”

[dra-and-sdra2-imagine-writer]

Can I have some head canons of the VOID members helping Nikei with his mental health? This year has been kicking my ass and I just want to see my boy be happy

Nikei sighed softly, looking out sitting on the edge of a cliff just staring out at the sea. The journalist couldn’t seem to have sound inspiration, and was just wondering around.

His feet seemed to have lead him to the cliff where the crystal blue waters laid underneath. Placing his hat down beside him, and his jacket draped over his lap. His mind was just wandering about several things he had done throughout his life.

For example, why was he the way he was? Why did he have such a horrible childhood? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it, he had always done what he was told. Was that why he felt so inferior to everyone else? To..Mikado? Just thinking about his name, made the journalist sick to his stomach.

Working himself down to the bone wasn’t the way to go either, for it just seemed to have made matters worse, combined with the lack of eating and sleeping only seemed to have made his thoughts more worse. Even if he didn’t realize it himself, but the constant tellings of ‘You’re not good enough, do better, things would be better off if you were gone.’ Grown to be mentally exhausting.

That he didn’t bother to try and deny it, only accepting it and began to tell himself that. The negative mentality of his had started when he was very young, and told that by some of his family members and it just seemed to have stuck.

“Hey, Nikei?” A voice called, making the journalist snap out of his thoughts turning and looking over his shoulder only to have seen the other members of void. Aside from Mikado, concern was plastered on their faces. “Hm? What is it?” He replied turning and looking back at the sea in front of him.

He didn’t realizing it, but Nikei had tears rolling down his cheeks. One by one, each void member started to take a seat down beside Nikei. Hajime to his right, Emma to his left, and Iroha also to his left. “Are you alright..? You’re crying.” Emma spoke in a soft voice, reaching a hand up and gently wiped the tears off his cheeks.

Nikei flinched, but didn’t bother to pull away from her touch. “I’m fine.” It’s what he always said, even when things go wrong. At this point, they had saw past it. No matter how many times Nikei would insist it.

“Y-..You’re not fine..y-you say that a-all the time..b..but we know you aren’t.” Iroha spoke in a soft voice, making the journalist flinch in Emma’s touch, pulling away from it shooting a weak glare at Iroha, who squeaked and hid behind Hajime. “And what if I’m not? I have to be, no matter what.” Nikei stated.

Which seemed to have brought the mood down a bit, now Hajime was speaking. “Have to be? What do you mean? Not everyone can be fine one-hundred percent of the time.” Nikei frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and looked forward. “You wouldn’t understand. None of you would.”

Nikei honestly looked quite upset, just staring out at the sea in defeat. “Maybe we won’t, but we’re willing to try. You’re our friend, Nikei.” Emma spoke up, wrapping a arm around the journalist. “Emma’s right! It’s our job as friends to look out and help ya! It would be unmanly if we didn’t!” Hajime exclaimed after also wrapping a arm around Nikei. Iroha shifted a bit so that she was a bit closer to Nikei wrapping both of her arms around him. “M-mhm..! We care about you..!”

His expression slowly began to soften, shoulders slumping he began to speak more openly. “I..I’m not fine, okay? The truth is..I..I’m not good enough. Not to be the Ultimate Journalist, not to be a member of void, I would be better off dead. No one would miss me, I know it’s what everyone would want. That bastard..Mikado, he’s better than me. In every shape and form, no matter how hard I try to catch up..he’s one step ahead of me. I’m sick of being second best..I want to be number one! I want to be important! Why can’t anyone recognize me for me! Instead of my writing..why can’t I just be..good enough.” Nikei poured his heart out, tears once again beginning to roll down his cheeks. At a much more faster rate, then previously.

That left some of the other void members speechless, not knowing Nikei had that bottled within him. Sure, he acted grouchy sometimes but they didn’t have the slightest clue that it was this bad.

“Nikei..we’re here for you..you mean so much to us, more than you think. I’m not the only one who thinks so, we all do. So..please, don’t go saying the world would be better off with you gone. It’s simply not the case, in the slightest. ” Emma spoke, her grip increasing slightly. “We had no idea you felt like this deep down..but we’re going to make things better! So you can be happier! You’re both our friend, and ally. Yeah, you have your talent, but you’re more than just it! There’s a load more amazing things about you!” Hajime exclaimed. Iroha nodding her head in agreement. “Y-you don’t give yourself enough credit..you’re amazing..funny, light hearted, a inspiration to us all..! You mean the w-world to us..! W..we might be calling Mikado our l-leader..but he’s nothing like you..you’re much better than him..”

Nikei’s eyes widened as a smile made way onto his lips. Letting out a small laugh, wrapping his arms around them to the best of his ability. “You guys are such idiots..but..you’re my idiots.”

Sometimes..one just needs to hear how much they’re appreciated and loved.

——

I hope you enjoyed! It didn’t really turn out as HC’s. More like a scenario, if that’s alright? I love Nikei too, he deserves the world and then some! I hope things get better for you, Lexis!

[ayellowcurtain]

Unpopular opinion: i feel like sometimes fans will be like, this [character of color] messed up, how dare [remake] villainize [group], cancelled! So like...characters who are poc or nb cant....be well rounded which includes flaws?

To me, with some characters, the remakes managed to make poc with flaws but still “good characters”. 

Yann didn’t have the “perfect” reaction to Lucas coming out. I don’t hate as much him walking away because it gave us a Jonas walking back and apologizing not for just leaving but for always making jokes that he realized helped Lucas not tell him right away he was gay. Yann is still an amazing character, an amazing best friend. 

Zoe and the wedding dress. Yeah. That wasn’t a good idea for me. Her reaction to her assault wasn’t either. Skam NL made some big mistakes for me during season 2, but still, we mostly love Zoe for being such a strong girl, such an amazing, amazing friend to all the girls.  

Moyo is an amazing example for that. He’s an asshole. Most of us seem to have forgotten that, but he was ALWAYS a horrible friend to Robbe. His behavior at times with the girls, with Noor (staring while she was shirtless in Robbe’s room) was not the best. His apologies to Robbe didn’t cut it for me like I said a few times already. But now we’re here, so in love with how gentle and loving he is with his family, even with Kato. He’s so strong and willing to recognize his mistakes with Kato (which makes me hope, again, he and Robbe got closer and had actual conversations during Robbe’s season and this one) and apologize when he knows he made mistakes (by calling her names, etc, etc).

These are some of the examples I can think at the top of my head. Three characters that weren’t always perfect, made some strong, big mistakes and still managed to get some “roundness” and be loved by the fandom and learn from their mistakes. 

The cancel culture is a real problem, though. Especially with the fandoms. And that’s not more about being black or white. My rant here has nothing to do with color and everything about the “cancel culture” aspect of your ask: 

Generally, I feel like we, as a society, are very quick to judge right now. To feel like we’re always right and the ones that don’t agree with us are monsters, canceled, calling out, bla bla blazzzzz. 

People that make actual mistakes, that insist on not recognize their past fuck ups, people that only give hate have to be called out, canceled, whatever you want. Please, make them go back to the dark hole they were hidden, no anon button to distribute hate. These people will never learn and they NEED to understand that if they’re actually wrong, mean, bad fucking people if they can’t understand and change, they should keep their disgusting behavior and thoughts to themselves. The earth is not flat, we can’t push them to the edge and never see them again so we have to at least silence them and make them space small, their voice just a whisper. We have to be louder, stronger. 

But there are people, white or not, that make mistakes and can recognize that and can change, can apologize and talk and communicate and learn to be better.

We need to be better at seeing the difference between uneducated and mean people. Sure, grown-ass people should be better, we have more than enough platform and time to learn to not ask “stupid questions”, nobody owns us an explanation and is up to us to listen, to give the ones that were hurt for centuries to have their voices heard. But if we constantly pick a fight, we’ll be outnumbered because if the past few elections around the world taught me anything was that they might be a smaller percentage of the world population, but they’re loud, dangerous, mean, they haven’t changed since we became humans, they were just suppressed until now. So we have to pick the ones around us more carefully, not canceling people that could be allies if we gave them a second chance.

There’s no third chance though. 

[shades-of-grayro]

“Aces can still love”

This phrase gets a lot of criticism from the aro community. But it’s become such a common example used to demonstrate arophobia in the ace community that we’ve lost sight of what actually makes it bad. 

It’s time we have an honest conversation about the nuances behind this phrase, why aces say it, and how to recognize whether something that looks like it is actually problematic.

(This can also serve as a guide for alloromantic aces who want to be good allies to aros, but who don’t understand what’s wrong with this phrase.)

Why do aces say this?

When people first learn about asexuality, they often presume that this includes a lack of interest in romantic endeavors as well as sexual ones. When you’re aroace, this misconception generally doesn’t bother you so much. 

For alloromantic aces, this is often a touchy issue for a couple of reasons. One, many allo aces didn’t know that being ace and not being aromantic was a thing at first, and that was a barrier to being able to figure out their identity. There’s often a personal story behind why this misconception bothers them so much - one that probably a lot of allo aros can relate with (and even some aroaces, like myself). 

They also find that they often have to correct others on this misconception quite a bit - whether those people are allosexual or ace. There are pockets of the ace community that are predominantly aroace! I know I’ve had to correct other aces on this misconception myself at my in-person ace meetup. Correcting people on this misconception all the time does get tiring.

But what about respectability politics?

Do some aces say that phrase because they want to try to humanize themselves by showing that they can love just like anybody else? Probably. But that is not inherent in the phrase “aces can still love” — that needs the “just like anybody else” bit to come after it to count as respectability politics.*

Still, I think most aces who do the “we can still love just like you” variation of this phrase honestly don’t realize that they are throwing aros under the bus. The number of people who do this knowingly are a tiny fraction of the people saying statements like “aces can still love”

Variations on “Aces can still love”

There are many variations on this phrase, and they are not all created equal. Some are bad, but some are perfectly fine! The rest of this post is a guide to the different phrases so you know which are safe and which are fair game to get upset with.

Note: I’m using “still love” at a part of each of these phrases. I think on a whole, this part of the phrase should be replaced with something that specifies this love as romantic, but that’s not really the point of this post.

The Classic: “Aces can still love”

Let’s look at the sentence structure here… It doesn’t necessarily specify all aces, but also most people would read it as talking about all aces. Ultimately what is bad about this phrase is its ambiguity and potential generalization.

Sometimes I think people might mean “Feeling romantic love doesn’t invalidate your ace identity” when they say this phrase, but that’s not the only way of interpreting it once it’s said, and the other way of interpreting it is Bad, and therefore, this sentence structure should be avoided.

The Respectability Politician: “Aces can still love, just like anyone else!”

Aces face a high amount of dehumanization. This phrase is an attempt to humanize the ace experience, but unfortunately, it further dehumanizes the aro experience by comparison.

It’s also possible that someone might use a phrase that looks somewhat like this when trying to explain what romantic orientations are, so it’s important to look at the context to see if someone is simply explaining romantic orientation (though in this case, this phrase would still have the same problems as “The Classic”).

The Non-Generalization: “Some aces can still love”

Yay! This is a good one! Look at the word “some” in there. It takes a statement that was a generalization about all aces, and turns it into one that acknowledges that while some aces can still love (romantically), others don’t!

The Agape Context: “Aces can still love! They love their pets, their friends, their hobbies…”

The word “love” is very vague - sometimes it means romantic love, sometimes it means broadly towards other people, and sometimes it can even refer to a feeling regarding something that’s not human like an animal or activity.

Sometimes, if you look at the context, the statement “aces can still love” isn’t referring to romantic love. These can vary in how acceptable they are; it’s important to keep in mind that some aces might not experience “love” towards those other things being listed as well, or might have objections with the word “love” due to associations with romance, even if it’s not meant in a romantic way.

And yes, I know that’s not quite the right use of agape. I just wanted a cool title.

The Personal Experience: “I’m ace but I can still love”

This is another one that’s fine! Please don’t attack this! 

This statement is talking about a personal experience. It’s not a generalization. 100% acceptable. I mean, unless it is in a very specific context where they’re spitting in an aro’s face going “I may be ace but at least I can still LOVE!”

But like, that’s not what most of these are. Be very very careful before you get mad at anyone for using an “I” statement.

The Personal Politician: “I’m ace but I can still love just like you”

This one is highly dependent on context. Is it in response to a dehumanizing statement, or is it an attempt to explain romantic orientation?

In response to a dehumanizing statement? Nope, don’t do that, that throws aros under the bus, even if you are using an “I” statement. 

Explaining your orientation to someone by demonstrating where there are similarities between your experience and theirs? Go for it!

TL;DR

Not all statements that look like “aces can still love” are bad, and we should look at the context they are in before making blanket criticisms.

— 

*There are probably some other contexts where this would be respectability politics. If the phrase “aces can still love” was in response to a dehumanizing statement, as opposed to a misconception, then it would be respectability politics.

[ograndebatata]

Silver Linings

So... I’ve actually had this fic pretty much complete for weeks now, but I recently got motivated to polish it up and share it here, for... well... I’m not sure why, and honestly there may be many motivating factors, but... anyway, here it is. 

I hope you enjoy it. 

Note: Like pretty much every Elena of Avalor fanfic by me, this one takes place in my Tales of the Ever Realm AU. To give a bit of context on what it is, it’s basically an AU where all of Sofia the First is canon, and all of Elena of Avalor episodes until Snow Place Like Home (in terms of ‘timeline order’) are canon. Details and characters from later episodes will sometimes be used, but there are many important differences between my fic AU and canon.

One of those, as will be clear from reading this fic, is that in this AU, Ash Delgado has a genuinely and healthily loving relationship with both her husband and daughter (although we really only get to see the former in this one) and also is just a much better person in general, though still with a few traits of her canon self. I hope you will enjoy it for what it is, and I apologize in advance to those who happen to prefer the canon versions of her character and her relationships.

Also, I tried my best to make this fic strong enough to stand on its own, but I realize a few details may still come across as confusing. I apologize for that in advance as well. If you’d like any sort of clarification, please feel free to ask.

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Note #2: There is some stuff in this fic that can be seen as slightly suggestive. Nothing full-blown NSFW, but still, there is a bit of steaminess. Those who aren’t particularly fond of such content want to tread carefully. I may be worrying too much over nothing, but... I feel it’s better to be safe than sorry.

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Note #3: Although I tried my best to make it strong enough to be read on its own, this fic works better read as a sequel to @lostbutterflyutau‘s fic The Second Navidad, which she wrote for me as a Christmas gift last Christmas, and which I liked so much that I decided to make it canon to my fic universe. If you’d like to read it, I strongly recommend it.

And on that note, I say the same thing regarding all of her Elena of Avalor fics. They're full of well-written characters, great portrayals of feelings of all kinds, and wonderfully fluffy moments of the romantic, the friendship, and the familial kinds. I strongly recommend them all. Also, if you read them and like them, please take the time to leave her some feedback, even if it's only a few words. Remember that taking even only a few seconds to give feedback leads to better environments for fanworks of all kinds. 

With that said... let us begin.

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Silver Linings

The Kingdom of Norberg, February 14th, Year 9222 of the Ever Realm Calendar…

A series of sharp knocks cut through the cabin’s main room, making Ash Delgado jump in her chair as the sound brought her struggle with her focus to an abrupt end, ruining her already feeble efforts at forcing herself to study the weathered yellow page she held, trying beyond her best to find a solution to the dilemma she’d been struggling with for over a year.

One of her hands slammed the page against the table as her other one reflexively curled around her tamborita; the next instant, her ears picked up the last few knocks that rapped against the wooden boards. Her heart settled down as the force and rhythm behind the sounds told her who had arrived, drawing a relieved sigh from her as she released the drum wand’s handle. Ash looked up at the closed door on cue with its lock clicking as a key was turned inside it. The next moment, the door drew inwards, making her grimace at the chilly air that entered the cabin, followed soon after by her husband.  

“I’m home!” Victor announced as he closed the door behind him, before wiping a few fresh snowflakes off his shoulders and setting down a bag of canvas he’d been carrying. 

Then, as his eyes fell on her, still by the table she’d been sitting at since he left - though now with layers of pages scattered over its surface - a sheepish smile uneasily crawled across his features.

“Did I interrupt anything?”

A mock-annoyed smirk curling her lips, Ash teased, “Not this time.”

Besides, even if he had, his loud arrival was one of the safety norms that they and their daughter had established for whenever they stayed anywhere: to always make their presence known when arriving, to ensure they conveyed they weren’t any unexpected visitor. 

Still, the sheepish look remaned on Victor’s features as he unclasped his cloak and hung it on a hook beside the door, before walking over towards her. Smiling at him, Ash reached up to his face and settled her hand on his jawline as he rested his’ between her shoulder blades, closing her eyes as the two of them leaned towards each other and put their lips together. Cold seeped into her fingers as the mixed smell of salty air, tobacco smoke, cooked bacon and burned wood floated into her nostrils, but Ash kept her fingers on his face and pressed her lips further into his’, holding both her touch and her kiss for a few more seconds. 

Then, as she and Victor both pulled away and she opened her eyes, a faint chuckle bubbled up her throat at the sight she beheld. 

Victor blinked in puzzlement. “What?”

Suppressing another chuckle, Ash explained, “Your mouth is full of lipstick.”

Again. She inwardly added, as pointless as it was. Victor’s mouth or face ending up full of lipstick when they kissed was as big a given as water being wet or as the sun rising everyday. But Ash liked her makeup in the style she wore it, and she knew that for all his playful grumbling, Victor also did.

Giving an easygoing chuckle himself, Victor reached up with his free hand and rubbed it across his mouth, the faint dark-blue sparks she saw flying from his fingertips telling her what he was trying to do. Alas, the final results were different from the intended, the smear on his lips only spreading further across his face, bringing a stronger chuckle out of her.

“Here,” she said, removing her own hand from his jawline, silvery-grey sparks swarming around her fingers. “I’ll do it for you.”

Saying so, she swept her magic-filled hand over his face, the smudges of lipstick vanishing in her fingers’ wake.

“I guess this just shows I still need more practice,” he said good-naturedly as he straightened himself, caressing her ponytail along the way. 

He glanced around the room as he righted himself, then turned back to her and asked, “Did Carla leave already?”

“Princess Chloe asked her to go early,” Ash explained. “Apparently so the two of them can properly help Queen Abigail get ready for her date with King Hector. And Carla said that because she was spending the night at the palace anyway, she might as well stay over already.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, Victor walked over to her right and pulled up the chair beside her, sinking onto it with a pensive look on his face, the expression looking more pronounced thanks to his placement against the lit fireplace that burned a few feet away. Ash knew without having to ask that he was having a bout of the same struggle they had both endured since Carla had unintentionally struck up a friendship with the princess of Norberg. On one hand, it was good that Carla had made a friend, at least for the duration of their stay here. On the other, Norberg was a close ally to Avalor, and even if wanted posters of him and Carla hadn’t made it here yet (and weren’t likely to be sent now that neither of them had been to Avalor for over a year), it could still happen, especially given that Princess Chloe was at least a friendly acquaintance of Princess Elena. Or then, the Crown Princess of Avalor or someone closely associated with her could unexpectedly drop by and recognize him or Carla, which would at best mean they’d have to leave, and at worst might literally spell their dooms. And that was assuming none of their more dangerous enemies was lurking in the shadows, planning something that Ash could easily conceive as far more horrible than anything Princess Elena would ever do to them if she caught them.

But Carla knew she needed to be careful, and the three of them were making sure to keep an eye on anyone who seemed suspicious, just like their jaquin allies were doing. With luck, Carla’s friendship with Princess Chloe would just keep going without incident during their final two weeks or so in Norberg.

“How did things go at the harbor?” Ash brought up, out of genuine interest as much as out of a wish to change subjects. 

The deepening of Victor’s frown answered her question well enough, but still, he replied, “Not very well. There weren’t many sailors there, it being the day it is and all, and most of those I found were more interested in drowning their sorrows or seeking other forms of consolation than in talking about some mysterious kingdom.” As he caught sight of Ash’s own frown, he added, “No thanks to it being the day it is, I guess. After all, it was the same thing during Sweetheart’s Day in Avalor.”

Though that didn’t make her feel any better, Ash gave him a reassuring smile. After all, it wasn’t his fault that today was Valentine’s Day - or Dia del Amor y la Amistad, as her parents had called it, due to it being the holiday’s name in both Paraiso and Cordoba. Most sailors who’d ordinarily be in taverns or at the harbor were likely to be with their girlfriends or wives or families, and those that weren’t would either be too busy with work or too sullen at their lack of companionship to be in a chatty mood. 

“Was any sailor at all willing to talk?” she probed.

Victor shrugged. 

“Some were. But most of those couldn’t tell me anything about that place, and the only two that could didn’t tell me anything we don’t already know.” He stopped, his eyes clouding over as he mentally sorted out his words. “They said that that kingdom looks clean and calm enough from a distance, and the rulers seem friendly enough, but there’s just something under its surface that doesn’t quite make it an inviting place, and anyone going farther than the harbor automatically needs a full guard unit escorting them because of the land’s perils.” His frown deepened even further, his eyes narrowing to the point they seemed to turn into two black holes thanks to the shadows from the fireplace. “In a sense, it’s like a more extreme version of what I heard Avalor was like under Shuriki’s rule.”

Ash pursed her lips, the mere reference to that woman’s name making her temper flare. She might have come to terms with her husband having fallen for Shuriki’s lie that she could make him and Carla malvagos, but having that daemonfirma brought up in conversation still made her blood boil. Good for her that she was dead, because if Ash had gotten to fight her for a third time, she would have done everything she could to ensure their fight would end with Shuriki having a departure far more painful than the one Princess Elena had given her. 

Forcing herself to push aside the hatred that still burned at her, Ash said, “Well, at least we have more evidence that that kingdom is not a place where we want to stay any longer than absolutely necessary.” Her heart growing heavier, she added, “Unfortunately, we still need to go there.”

His forehead creasing, Victor gave her a sympathetic look. 

“Things also didn’t go well over here then?”

The tiredness and frustration from her mostly wasted afternoon rearing up like a striking snake, Ash let out a long sigh. 

“Yes and no,” she settled on.

Victor didn’t even blink at her response, his sympathetic look staying the same as before. 

Taking a deep breath to gather herself, she explained, “On the good side, I went over my improved potion recipes again just to be safe, and it held up again. The improvements I made will be enough so that neither of the potions will take quite as many moon cycles to achieve its purpose.” Her heart again grew heavier as she once more realized what it implied, but she forced herself to add, “On the bad side, there still are a few ingredients for both potions that just can’t be replaced with anything found somewhere else.”

Victor’s mouth again started to curl into a frown.

“So… that means…”

Ash nodded.

“There’s no way around a trip to that kingdom that seems out of a mix between a crime novel and a horror story. It’s still the only place where some of the ingredients we need exist, and God knows how long we’ll take to find them all.” 

Again, Victor narrowed his eyes so much that the fireplace made it seem like he had two black holes in his eye sockets. Ash narrowed her eyes as well, the weight of the implication hanging over her like a boulder sustained by the finest thread that was about to break. The idea of spending any amount of time in that kingdom was anything but pleasant. And having to stay there for who knew how long (at least a year, to give an optimistic estimate) only made it worse.

“And that’s not all,” Ash forced herself to go on. “It’s not even the worst part.” 

Victor sat the tiniest bit straighter, his eyes opening ever so slightly.

“What’s the rest?”

Her answer seemed to swirl around in her throat, as if trying to come out, but unable to find its way to her mouth for some reason. Though she knew Victor wouldn’t judge her or think less of her, and she had never lied to him, admitting to her failures or inabilities was not something she had ever or would ever like. After all, they were failures or inabilities, which Ash had always loathed, even back when she had just been Seentahna.

But despite being a dark wizard, Ash knew how wrong it was to be dishonest, especially to the man she loved, and she knew he felt the same towards her. Neither had ever lied to each other, and she wouldn’t be the one starting now. 

“I think we may be doing all of this for nothing,” she at last managed to say. 

Reading Victor’s question in the way his eyebrow moved up his forehead, Ash reached towards one of the papers on the table and lifted it aside, exposing a round purple orb around the size of an orange, the orb somehow feeling as heavy in her hand as if it was made of cast iron. 

“I can’t know for sure without looking at the Codex Maru, but the more I study this blasted thing, the more unlikely it seems that we will be able to channel its power as we want to, if we manage to fix it in the first place,” she explained as she raised the jewel. 

The words forced its way out of her like thick mud mixed with sharp knives. Just having to utter them made her heart sink almost as much as them being true. Another smile dawned on Victor’s lips, his hands moving over and curling around her right hand like a comforting blanket, his thumbs ghosting over her knuckles in a tender caress. 

“It’s alright, Pluma,” he whispered. “We can get through this.”

Despite the warmth in both his gaze and voice, the weight in her chest didn’t fade. She wouldn’t give up his support for anything, but what she really needed was a miraculous breakthrough on how to use the Jewel of Night, or on another way to recharge it. Ideally, both. Because as things stood now, achieving even one of her goals seemed borderline impossible. All means to recharge the Jewel of Night that she knew were difficult to put in practice, and many of the ingredients they would need to make both the potion that would repair it and the one that would recharge it (assuming they would manage to find a certain key ingredient for that one) came from plants and animals that had already been rare when she was a child. If even one of those had already gone extinct, they’d be right back where they started, and the Jewel of Night would be good for little more than to place on a shelf as decoration.

And even if they managed to fix it and recharge it, the only thing that might have anything on how to properly siphon its power into them was the Codex Maru, assuming that could be done in the first place. And to get the Codex Maru, they’d need to face Princess Elena, who could wield the Scepter of Light, and her Royal Wizard, who was Alacazar’s grandson and was all but certain to take after his grandfather if he’d managed to defeat a malvago powerful and skilled enough to cast the malvago-making spell on Victor and Carla at the same time and successfully pull it off. 

Whoever said malvago was, defeating him would have been an impressive feat for any wizard, but it was all the more so coming from a boy who hadn’t even been eighteen when he did so. And the boy would only have grown more powerful since then. Even now that Victor and Carla had grown much more powerful themselves, Ash knew the three of them would need a good plan and a very healthy amount of luck to get the Codex on their own. And if she had to guess, they would only have one try, because if they got caught, Princess Elena was bound to execute them all.

The thought hitting her like a blasting spell, Ash’s gaze snapped away from Victor, the fear that too often lingered at the bottom of her heart suddenly shooting up to the surface, her eyes wide as if to let it fly out. The next moment, twin caresses ran over the back of her hand, soft despite the roughness of the skin giving them. Though she knew where they came from without needing to look, Ash turned to meet Victor’s eyes, which still glowed with the same warmth.

“Let’s not think about that now,” he said. “Let’s think about something else.” 

An empty smile flitted across her face, her gaze turning away from his’. As if drawn to it, her eyes fell on the Jewel of Night, stared into its opaque depths, the emptiness within it seeming to remind her of how difficult their mission was, and yet how they needed to accomplish it if they were to ever be truly at peace. To think Victor made it sound so easy. To put aside something that their lives in a sense literally depended on, as easily as if it was a matter of deciding not to wear clothes they didn’t particularly like. 

“I’ve had practice,” he replied as if he had read her mind, a playful smirk on his lips. 

Against her wishes, Ash allowed herself a small smile. Quips aside, she knew that must be true. After all, he had managed to keep himself and their daughter alive and safe, despite having very few magical skills before he was made a malvago. More than that, he had managed to raise Carla as happy and well-adjusted as their circumstances allowed, and done a better job of it than she imagined most men and some women would. 

But that still didn’t change the main point.

“If we don’t think about it now, we’ll have to think about it later,” she insisted, even as she lowered the hand holding the Jewel of Night.

Her words came out tense, almost solid, but Victor simply kept giving her the same warm smile from before, rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hand again. Then, he rose from his chair and moved to stand behind her, taking his hands to her hair and releasing the knot in her hair tie, the tiniest sense of relief washing over her as a slight pressure left her head, her hair spreading out from its ponytail and cascading free to below the middle of her back. Though she couldn’t see him, she felt Victor smiling as he curled a hand around her hair, his other one gently scratching her scalp. A wider smile breaking through her lips, Ash hummed in delight, leaning back into her chair, guessing what he intended to do. As she expected, Victor lifted her hair so it wouldn’t be stuck between her and the back of the chair, his hands then settling on her head and running over her white locks like a hairbrush, spreading the strands apart and gently easing tangles and knots. 

A louder hum flowing through her, Ash tilted her head back as Victor pressed the tips of his fingers to her hairline, before gently but firmly running them back, tension falling apart in their wake as he caressed her scalp. 

“I know it’s difficult, Pluma,” he whispered. “Believe me, I had more than enough time to learn it on my own.” His voice shivered the slightest bit at those words, and Ash knew he was remembering his and Carla’s many close escapes over the almost fifteen years she hadn’t been with them. “But we’ll figure out how to use the Jewel of Night.” He ran his fingers over her scalp again. “And even if we don’t, we’ll find some other way to get rid of the Evergrowing Forest.”

Ash chuckled mirthlessly. 

“You talk as if the odds are on our side.” 

Running his fingers over her scalp once more, he replied, “I’d rather think I talk as someone who chooses to keep on believing things will get better. And as someone who was lucky despite the odds.” He reached downwards and slid his  thumbs in a half-circle behind her ears, bringing them forward rubbing them over her cheeks. “And more than once at that.”  

Frowning at the second sentence, Ash knitted her eyebrows as he moved his fingers back up to her scalp, rubbing continuous circular motions from her hairline to her nape. 

“I was lucky enough to meet you in the first place,” he went on. “I was lucky enough to run into you again and start to know you better. I was lucky enough to reunite with you more than twelve years after losing track of you. And I was lucky enough to reunite with you a second time almost fifteen years after we got separated again. And I could make a longer list.” 

Unable to help herself, Ash turned her head even farther upwards, literally smiling up at him as he looked down and gave her a smile of his own.

“I don’t suppose I could argue against that,” she replied.

His hands rubbed just a bit harder across her scalp, a sigh rolling out of her lips as relief surged from his fingertips and rushed through her. 

“I was lucky as well,” she added. “On all those accounts, and more.” 

Yes. Ash thought, sighing once more as he massaged her scalp again and relief rushed through her being once more.

Despite everything, she had been lucky. Probably luckier than she deserved after everything she had done. Not only for getting to meet Victor and getting to reunite with him a grand total of three times - or two, if she only counted those after they had actually started their relationship - but also for having a wonderful daughter who she loved and who loved her back, and for getting to be with them both and just be able to be a family despite the threats hanging over their heads. 

Victor must have read something on her face again, for he said, “So... back to not thinking of unpleasant matters for now… why don’t you put these things away, and I can tell you an idea I’ve had?”

A deep groan rolling from her lips as Victor’s motions suddenly reversed, she fake-glared at him.

“You should know by now that I don’t take orders from anyone.” 

She felt his hands temporarily stop their movements as he shrugged. 

“I prefer to look at it as an invitation.” His massage still halted, he crouched to whisper in her ear. “Though it’s one I confess I would very much like you to accept, mi amor.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” she breathed as he straightened himself up, a deep sigh flowing out of her. “Very well. What is it?” 

“Uh-uh-uh!” he tut-tutted. “I’m not seeing anything put away...” 

Her eyes narrowed at his response, a low mock-grumble joining her change in expression. He really knew her a bit too well. 

“Watch out, Victor,” she teased. “You don’t want to fall prey to the stereotype that men can’t keep a house.” 

He again ran his fingers through her hair, the white locks parting in their wake. “It’s more like I don’t want to go against how you like to be the one putting your own things away, especially when it comes to magical studies.”

Another affected grumble rippled out of her mouth. Again, he knew her too well. 

“Very well then,” she conceded, her fingers curling around her tamborita’s handle.

On cue once more, Victor withdrew his hands from her hair and curled them over the sides of her chair, pulling it back exactly as she stood up and drew her drum wand, then aimed it at the table’s surface. 

“Llévaluq!” she chanted as she smacked the drum.

Identical silvery-grey glows bloomed around each page spread over the table, as well as around the purple gem she’d been studying for hours. Ash fiddled her fingers as if she was playing a harp; the papers bent and swerved and turned over the table like flying carpets before settling into a neat stack, the gathered pile of pages then flying into the shelf behind her with a beckoning motion from her hand. The Jewel of Night followed in their wake with the same gesture, but swerved slightly to the right and upwards, stopping its course once it hovered above a small, seemingly ordinary light yellow jar with rectangular Maruvian patterns of a darker shade over its surface.

She directed a look at Victor as she held the jewel in place. The next instant, he drew his own tamborita and aimed it at the jar. 

“Piikrete tarruyniu waaygico!” he chanted, punctuating each word with a smack on the tamborita.

After the last smack resounded through the cabin, a dark-blue glow bloomed around the drum as Victor raised his hand, the jar’s lid floating about a foot off and allowing Ash to slide the Jewel of Night in. Hearing the low clatter of it landing, she holstered her tamborita as Victor lowered his hand, setting the lid on its place.

Sliding his tamborita into its own holster, Victor turned to her with a smile, reaching out with his left hand. “Now, where were we?”

Taking his hand, Ash replied. “You were about to make an invitation.”

He raised his arm in response, in time with Ash twirling in place, her hair fanning out as she completed her spin and then stepped towards Victor’s chest as he drew her to him, wrapping both arms around her as he settled his lips on her neck. 

“I was thinking…” he halted his words to kiss her neck “...that you could wait here while I run you a nice warm bath…” he kissed a slightly higher spot “... and then you take the time to enjoy it while I cook a special dinner with what I brought…” So that’s what’s in the bag! Ash thought as he kissed below her ear “... and then we could have our second celebration of Dia del Amor y la Amistad.” he finished, tenderly kissing her cheek.

Her eyes widened at the words, her heart leaping slightly in her chest. Their second celebration! Amidst her frayed nerves after repeated failures with the Jewel of Night, she had completely forgotten about that! Not about the celebration they and Carla had had that morning - after all, it had been the first time the three of them properly celebrated Dia del Amor y la Amistad since her return - but about the second celebration that was meant to be just for her and Victor, which they had even talked about more than once over the previous days. 

I really need to stop thinking about that jewel if it can make me forget something like that. 

Victor chuckled as if she had spoken her words rather than thinking them, the curling of his lips telling her that he was cooking up a joke. 

“You know, as far as stereotypes go, it’s men who are said to forget romantic celebrations…” he brought up. 

Despite the laugh at his quip, Ash reached back and nudged Victor’s nose with her index finger. 

“Watch your tongue, Mister. If I get annoyed, you’re going straight to the couch tonight.”

He gave her a melodramatic gape, put a hand to his chest. “Oh, the horror!...”

Taking her chance, Ash twisted out of his embrace and then pressed herself flush to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and sinking her other hand into his hair as her lips leapt upwards to claim his. He engulfed her in another embrace, resting his hands on her back as their mouths met. For a heartbeat, their lips started to glide over each other’s, both reading the other’s intention to take things slowly. But then, like alcohol meeting a cinder, their passion seemed to explode through their bodies, leaping the frustrations this day had brought them both as their lips devoured each other time and time again, each trying to both drain their pent up tension and help the other with their own, somehow wanting to put out and build the fire flowing between them at the same time. Awareness of everything faded into the background as they devoted every bit of their focus to the flutter of each other’s hands and mouths, to the feeling of each other’s touch, to the warmth of their kisses. 

It seemed to last an eternity before they drew apart, looking into each other’s eyes like hypnotized, as if they were floating. 

Then, despite herself, Ash burst into chuckles, taking her hand to her lips in a token attempt at suppressing them.

Amusement twinkling in his own eyes, Victor curled an eyebrow and blew through his pursed lips.

“I’m full of lipstick again, right?” 

Her suppressed laughter slowly fading, Ash summoned magic into her other hand and waved it over Victor’s face, the lipstick smudges dispelling under the sparks swarming around her fingers. 

Lowering her hand as she let the magic fade, Ash drawled, “So… that warm bath?”

“Coming right up,” he replied with a mock-casual tone and a warm smile as he lowered his arms. 

Realizing she would need to let him go for him to run her bath, Ash pulled away, following him with her eyes as he headed to their cabin’s small bathroom. 

A warm bath sounded nice indeed. While cleansing charms could do the job just as well, and far more quickly, they couldn’t equal the peaceful feeling of sinking into the warm water and feeling it melting the tension from within her, making her stop thinking about the day’s concerns better than the best mind control spell. 

It wouldn’t really make them go away, she knew. However good this night was, their concerns wouldn’t become any less real, and the Evergrowing Forest would remain a threat to their lives until they managed to destroy it.

But at least tonight, Ash would enjoy what she had to be thankful for.

[empty-pages-bleed-words]

Homophobia

I always thought homophobia never really had that big of an impact on me. I’ve been closeted for 5 years, and I always explained to myself that I just was too scared to do it yet, that all the horror stories on the internet had scared me away from doing it. But recently I thought more about all the things I’ve heard and seen and how it’s effected me and giving me quite the case of internal homophobia. I live in a tiny town full of white conservatives, my school (Grades 4-12) had 200 kids. My graduating class had 21 kids, half of which I’ve known since Kindergarten. The problem with small towns is that when something changes in your life, it is everybody’s business, every relationship, every fight, every job, everyone, adults and teens alike, want to know what the latest thing is. We have only had three openly gay people in our town (though we have had several more closeted), and none of them were accepted positively. They were the topic of the biggest dirty gossip and victim to constant hate. I never thought homophobia had that big of an impact on me, until I remembered all the thing’s I’ve heard friends and family say, and all the thought’s I’ve kept to myself.

“I heard that she spies on the girls in the change room. That’s so gross! I’d change in the bathroom stall if I was in her class.” 

(She heard you say that and she looked so sad, how could you say that about another person?)

“She’s kind of messed up yeah,”

(Maybe she’s just upset cause people keep calling her messed up)

“I don’t understand how she could possibly know that so young, she is too young to make that judgment.”

(Kid’s know their straight. This isn’t different. And she’s allowed to explore, she’s allowed to try and discover herself without everyone dissecting her. She’s allowed to be wrong and change her mind. She’s 14. She’s allowed to be herself for gods sake)

“Don’t be a fag” “Faggot” “What you a fag?” “Fag” “Fag” “Fag”

(Shut up, don’t sat that word)

“It sucks I really liked his books until he made that character gay, that’s disgusting and I can’t read them anymore. It’s just wrong.”

(I don’t think you’d want to be my friend anymore then if you knew the truth. I don’t think I want to be your friend anymore either to be honest.)

“I’m glad no one in our class is a fag, could you imagine?”

(Your wrong, there is one. And yet nothing is different. Would you treat me differently if I told you?)

“Do you support the gays?” “No”

(You’re my best friend, you know I’m gay, yet you still said no? In front of me? How could you?)

“I bet the other volleyball team wouldn’t be so impressed by all her hickeys if they knew a girl gave them to her” “Hahaha”

(Don’t talk about them like that)

“It’s just not natural. Just be the gender your assigned.”

(Let them live their best life. Stop harassing them, you don’t know anything. About them. Their life. What they’ve gone through. Educate yourself.)

“if they were fighting for equality I could support them but all they want is special treatment!”

(They are fighting for equality your just too dumb to recognize your own privilege)

“They can be gay if they want but I don’t want to see it, all I see on the TV and the news and even in fucking shopping malls is all this rainbow shit and I don’t want to see it anymore”

(You don’t understand. Would you think differently if you knew how happy all that “rainbow shit” makes your own daughter? Your pretending to be an ally but your not)

“I mean yeah some peoples brain chemistry just makes them the gender their not assigned at birth, but not all these people are transgender, most of them are just faking it for attention or their confused or something.”

(They’re not confused or faking, they don’t need your invalidation. The reason your seeing more trans people now is because they’re trying to normalize it and the world is slowly becoming more welcoming so they’re being brave by being themself.)

“God all you see on TV now is fucking fags. Just show me normal stuff I don’t want to watch that.”

(If you knew your gay daughter is right here you wouldn’t be saying that, but you would be thinking that. And I love seeing representation on the TV, but at least it’s good to know you don’t)

“Why do they get a special day and parade and shit. Can you imagine the uproar if we had a straight parade? We’re not fighting for one though. They’re just begging for attention.”

(The reason you don’t have a straight parade is because you’ve never been oppressed. You’ve never been murdered, raped, assaulted, yelled at, illegal, or hurt for being straight.) 

People have never said anything directly to me, but they also don’t know how strongly I disagree with them. They don’t know how my stomach drops and my heart aches every time I hear these things. They don’t know how I’m terrified to come out to my parents because our relationship is so good right now and I don’t want to damage that. They don’t know how happy it makes me every pride month with the stupid rainbows everywhere, I know they’re just a marketing scheme but god they make me so happy. They don’t see my eyes light up every time I see a gay couple on TV cause even though sometimes the representation is bad, at least it’s progress. They don’t know how I look up videos of pride parades and imagine myself there, and promise myself “some day”. They don’t know how I look at empty space on my walls and think “that would be the perfect place for a pride flag”. They don’t see me linger at the pride items in hot topic for just a little longer than anywhere else, yet never buy anything. They don’t see the plethora of gay memes in my Instagram for you page. They don’t see me smile proudly and a little sadly at any out gay person, they don’t know how much I wish I was them. They don’t see these things. They don’t know these things. Because if they did, I would not be treated as well as I am now.

I never thought I had internalized homophobia until I realized how wrong I feel when I think about how I like girls. How I feel like I’m breaking the law every time I see a lesbian couple online. How every time I see an out couple I feel so overwhelmingly proud, but I also hear the words said behind their back and I can’t help but feel like I’m the smart one for hiding. How I could probably hide forever if I never date a girl. How I don’t want to have to hide. I don’t have a good way to end this. Honestly this is just a massive vent and I’m not happy with this but I wanted to get these thought out of my head. 

[queenofthefaces]

kyle for the character thing!!!!

Buckle up bc I’m extra af and love talking abt characters. Be aware this is like, entirely personal opinion and personal interpretation and also it’s almost 2am so LETS GO

1) sexuality hc: I’ve always really liked bi Kyle ahsjdkfk and tbh I’ve always found the idea of his attraction to other ppl really interesting

The way I characterize him is that he’s someone who’s like, typically very passive with his attraction. He’ll kind of glance at someone and think they’re attractive but he doesn’t necessarily have any strong feelings towards them or desire/drive to want to pursue anything with them. If he does want to pursue them it’s usually out of a sense of obligation or expectation—like a “well I might as well” or “this is what I’m supposed to do” kinda thing

Except Kyle DOES have exceptions—when he finds someone he feels passionately about, someone he’s emotionally and mentally invested in, it’s like 0-100 in terms of difference, bc suddenly he can’t stop thinking abt that person, how much he wants to be with them, etc. and a lot of that characterization, for me, falls in line w the specific ship I have for Kyle (which is obvious if you’ve followed me for a few but I’ll get Into That in the next section)

2) OTP: KYMAN by far my fave Kyle ship and one of my all time fave sp ships overall. I’ve always LOVED rivals/enemies to lovers ships that specifically have 1) characters who are equals 2) characters who are incredibly intimate and close w one another even if (or because of) it’s in the context of the rivalry 3) the characters have either some level of co-dependence or a need for the dynamic or one another in some way bc the relationship is fulfilling to them and bonus if 4) they’re the only ones that really understand each other

And I jus. Love that. Esp w kyman it’s so much fun taking that dynamic, the codependency and obsession, and just. Playing with it, on a storytelling/character analysis level. And then making it healthy, having them work through issues, bc the idea that “we’re both in way too deep with each other, we can either destroy each other or learn to get along” is jus 👌👌👌

And w kyman I love having Eric be Kyle’s exception. Kyle feels basically nothing towards his other s/o’s in contrast to how deeply he feels about Eric, and for Eric to have just as much depth of emotion in return. It’s fascinating and really fun esp when written from a kind of duo-redemptive story—they both start out toxic towards each other, and their relationship is toxic to other people, but they can’t bring themselves to put an end to it so they finally make it to that middle ground and come out as better peoole, together

This applies to a lot of my rivals/enemies to lovers ships but w kyman in particular there’s the added Funkiness of the childhood friends dynamic which is TASTEY like some nice sprinkles to jus add that extra Flavour. I love the concept of Kyle and Eric forming parts of their entire identities around each other from the time they were in diapers and everyone accepts that they’re always gonna he crazy for each other bc no one has the bond they do it’s so much fun

4) brotp: I should think more abt Kyle friendships tbh I don’t give those as much attention ahsjdkfkfk—tho I definitely have a soft spot for the super best friends kyle + Stan, I just have to work some development into it.

I love exploring their friendship as smth that deteriorates bc they grow apart as people, but then they realize they don’t WANT to grow apart and have to work to stay friends bc being friends isn’t as easy as it was when you were 8. It brings this really cool development that confronts Stan’s passivity towards his friends/his nihilism and Kyle’s entitlement and lack of emotional sensitivity and how they both need to make some compromises (but esp Kyle, bc I can see Stan as someone who tries very hard to not get much feedback).

In terms of Kyle being friends w other people I’m thinking it would be pretty situational. I can see Kyle getting some really eye opening perspectives from other ppl if he opens himself up to their views but that requires knocking Kyle down a few pegs lol, it’s fun to have him learn to recognize his own assumptions abt ppl and learning to value them as individuals yanno?

3) notp: honestly? Any other kyle ship. I can personally only see Kyle w Eric ahsjdkfk kyman endgame all the way. For me, a lot of other Kyle ships like, don’t make any sense, a lot in part bc I see Kyle as someone who has a lot of issues w socialization, entitlement, and selfishness along with his UNENDING OBSESSION w Eric Cartman (which also somewhat stems from those issues bc of Kyle’s sense of self identity vis a vis the rivalry)

Like, I can’t see Kyle sitting down and forming a meaningful romantic relationship w anyone else bc like, no one can provide the fulfillment, engagement, drive, and push/pull of Kyle’s relationship w Eric. Kyle would leave at the drop of a hat to confront smth Eric was doing and I don’t think he’d ever compromise with that. And someone who does compromise on that probably isn’t someone Kyle would want to be with in the long run.

I think the only ship I can see would be like, poly m4 bc that draws on pre-existing dynamics and doesn’t break or try to divy up Kyle’s attention. (Even tho like I said I don’t like Kyle w anyone else romantically)

5) 1st hc that pops in my head: my Kyle is autistic as fuck. Characterizing him as autistic gives a lot of insight into how his mind works and why he acts the way he does—a lot of his thought processes are just. What makes the most logical sense to him. It’s just that those trains of thought are on KYLES logic and that’s when he struggles to realize when he’s crossed a line or overstepped a boundary. Or how his brain is usually always “self-centered”—not in a morally negative way, just in that it’s not a natural reflect for him to remember other people.

And a ton of other things as well( including a fun hc of Kyle trying to use his autism as an excuse for being a dick, until Also Autistic Craig steps up like, no dude you’re just an asshole bc you’re not trying to do better). And bc as an autistic person, I really relate hard to Kyle to the point where if he were real I’d probably hate him bc we’d be too similar lmao; I think esp when I was a kid I acted a lot like Kyle—the self righteousness, the bossiness, the belief that my way was the only way that made sense and everyone else was just Wrong, the anger issues, etc.

It’s why I’m tough on Kyle a lot of the time, but it’s also why I love thinking abt his development, bc I know firsthand that he can mellow out, change, become a better, more wellrounded and emotionally aware person, and how he can make an effort into doing so

6) oh shit I didn’t even mean for this but obviously one way I relate to Kyle is the Above autistic hc and how I characterize him. Like I said, I acted a LOT like Kyle when I was a kid, so I know he’s an irritating little shit, but also brilliant and too thoughtful for his own good sometimes.

But another thing: I characterize Kyle as someone who is a natural leader, but hates being in official leadership positions. And this is also smth I’ve kinda written due to personal experience. But also from the way kyles often portrayed in canon—in the games, he’s always a support role, always a healer, ranged fighter, or someone who boosts and buffs allies

I see Kyle as the type of person who can easily take control in, for example, a group project situation, or when he’s hanging out with Stan and they’re only doing what Kyle wants to do bc Kyle comes up with all the ideas and Stan just goes along with them

But I can’t see Kyle as someone who’d want to be, like, student counsel president. (That’s more Wendy’s wheelhouse) Mostly bc there’s too much responsibility that it’s just exhausting, and more than that, those official positions are STIFLING. They run on someone else’s schedule and they’re creatively constructive. You can’t fully do your own thing bc you have to be constantly aware of how the group works and what the group wants. I can’t see Kyle as being happy in that position bc he’d get sick of having to conform his ideas to what other ppl want—he just wants to do his own thing.

So instead, Kyle would be more comfortable in a supporting role. Bc in a position like, for example, secretary or VP, he can still have a lot of influence, power, and knowledge, but he’s free from those restrictions that come from being the face of a group. And he’s also free from the social obligations of being a leader, esp in having to deal w other groups in like a business sort of way. AND if the group falls, Kyle won’t take as much of the blame, bc it’s probably not his fault anyways so why should everyone point fingers at him. It’s much less pressure.

(And it’s also kinda inspired by his role in the CBAA??—Cartman’s perfect in the CEO/face of the company position bc Cartman is comfortable with and relishes in the attention and social aspect of being the face/leader of a company, and Kyle can reap all the benefits of being a part of that company, including being an integral pillar of the company, w/o the deficits. If Eric and Kyle ran a company they’d work together, sure, but Eric would crumble without Kyle’s support, and Kyle would hate the stifling pressure of the head position, which makes them a perfect pair.)

(And again this is based on personal experience—I’m a natural leader. People listen to me, I can organize groups, and I’m a good mediator, but I hate when it becomes Official bc I can’t just. Do my own thing as I want to and it’s far too much to keep track of and most of it doesn’t interest me. It always irritated me when my parents tried to push me into like running for student president bc I just kept thinking abt all the work I’d have to do that I wouldn’t care abt)

7) what gives me secondhand embarrassment about Kyle? Well. Just......how much he reminds me of when I was a stupid kid. He’s such a little shit oh my god Kyle shut the fuck up YOURE NOT GHANDI. When Kyle’s being entitled and stuck up, when he thinks he’s better than other ppl, and when his own big mouth and pride are what fucks him over I’m just oh my god. Oh my GODDDDDD SHUT UPPPPP.

Mostly it’s secondhand embarrassment bc I’m jus oh my god ur an idiot—but again bc I know he has the ability to grow out of that and look back on himself with a grimace at how dumb he was ahsjdkfkfk

8) cinnamon roll or problematic fave? Definitely the latter, I love Kyle and I love when he’s happy and contented but him as a cinnamon roll kinda character feels so flat to me. I love him as a problematic fave he’s so much fun as a disaster. He’s complex—he’s tough and caring and angry and compassionate and an absolute fireball of EMOTIONS but he tries to act like he’s a logical rational person and I jus? He’s so much more fun and dynamic when he’s allowed to be messy

(Of course this is long why wouldn’t it be AHSJDKDKKFKGLGLH)

[hopesiick]

𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐃 // vice detective, thirty-three, red ridge native.

— unflinching, grudging, brainy, irreverent, plucky, mulish. loosely inspired by dominique dipierro (mr robot), laurie blake (watchmen hbo), eve polastri (killing eve), wendy byrde (ozark), and allie pressman (the society). this vine, too.

howdy, folks! i’m dev. 🤠 this is my dearest brain babie, jordan. normally, this is where i’d get all mushy-gushy on y’all, but the rest of this introduction is already too long as it is, and i’d rather not add insult to injury hehe. just know i’m happy to be here & even more excited to get to know you all + your brain babies, too! 🥳 @redridgeimp​​

— pinterest, stats + connections page.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: bullet points marked with three asterisks (***) feature mentions of domestic abuse and unfit parenting. reader discretion is advised.

the toussards are old money. her mother’s side of the family have made their fortune off of hay farms scattered across the state of nevada, and her father’s side of the family have mostly been cattle and dairy farmers. together, they decided to venture into real estate, too, by buying up farm land plots and selling them at a higher price, along with residential plots, too. 

they’re not showy people, but they definitely make good use of their money. jordan’s childhood home is a plantation-style house on a big ole plot of land situated on the outskirts of town. they had healthy green grass with sprinklers and a full garden. inside, everything was real wood, ivory, and silver. they had a maid and gardeners and the whole nine yards. still, if you hadn’t seen that or recognized their family name, you might have expected them to be any other family belonging to red ridge. 

to many, they gave off the image of a picture-perfect, all-american nuclear family. it’s easy to pretend, seeing as they live so far away from all the glitz and none of them -- no matter how they feel -- are willing to shatter that golden reputation, but it isn’t real. elise, her mother, wanted a doll more than she wanted an actual child, and it was society’s pressure on women to give birth that forced her hand, not any sense of innate desire for expanding the family. joseph, her father, was too caught up in his wife’s every wish and whim to really pay attention to jordan in a deep way. he never turned his back on her, but jordan never felt any deep belonging to him either -- if anything, he felt more like a 2d stand in for the father she wished she’d had. 

*** that meant there was only one adult left to really pick up her parent’s slack, and that was corinne, her aunt. corinne, who had an awful habit of bringing terrible men home. corinne, who was bipolar and unmedicated, and often in charge of taking care of jordan from the moment she was in diapers to the moment she graduated college. corinne, who was manipulated by her own sister. corinne, who was helpless to protect jordan against her mother’s attacks, and unable to shield her from the rage her boyfriends spat. corinne is like a mother to jordan. she was the hand that rubbed her back when she was sick. she was the open arms that held her when one of jordan’s teenage dates went sour. she was the one to cover for her when she snuck out and the one to teach her everything her mother considered too immoral and dirty. corinne is her mother in the way elise never could be, but still .. jordan can’t help but feel anger towards her. 

*** jordan’s known how to use, fire, and clean a gun from the age of eight. she learned how to hunt at the age of ten. she knew and helped her father field dress a handful of animals by the age of twelve. you may think this was just a bit of heavy-handed bonding between a father and daughter, but it wasn’t. elise and joseph used to go away a lot, both for pleasure and business, which left jordan in corinne’s sole care. that wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact that a grand majority of corinne’s relationships were abusive, specifically physically. jordan was a child, but she was a child with a duty -- a duty to protect her caretaker if necessary. at the time, jordan didn’t think much of it. she liked feeling like she had an in with her father, liked feeling important. it was only when she got older that she realized how fucked up everything had been, and how that’s the driving factor behind the feeling of fear she just can’t drop, and the mistrust she has in others. the anger she feels towards corinne is rooted in that. she can’t help but feel like it’s corinne’s fault and she hates that her aunt -- a fully grown adult -- was the center of her childhood, instead of her own self.

skipping forward a bit, jordan went to college right after high school to major in criminal science. her lifelong exposure to such abuse left her with a taste for vengeance. see, jordan wanted to be a police officer to protect her hometown, sure, but she also wanted the badge so that she could finally dish out the punishment that so many of the officers she’d seen were unwilling to. the only way to stop that culture of turning a blind eye was to do it from the inside, and that’s exactly what she did. 

jordan’s been a cop for twelve years now. she started her career doing patrol and eventually working with the gangs and narcotics team for five years. after a lot of pestering and brown-nosing, jordan became a g&n detective. she was mostly in charge of surveillance, carrying out raids, and the planning of both. ( she had an opportunity early in her career to go undercover, but jordan’s too obvious for that. ) eventually, jordan switched departments over to the special victims unit, but that stint really only served as a segue into where she is now: the vice and support department. she used to specialize in community outreach, helping bridge the gap between the community and the precinct. she worked with groups focused on helping those affected by drugs and sex workers who have been abused. when one of the detectives assigned to missing persons cases left, jordan was quick to apply for it. needless to say, she got the job and has been doing that since.

she’s got the nose for it -- all the digging and reviewing and passion for the relentless pursuit. she doesn’t particularly like dealing with the families of those affected, but it’s part of the job. on most days, she genuinely enjoys it, but with the rise in crime and the amount of deaths at their feet, jordan can’t help but rethink her choices. she’s competitive by nature; she can’t handle these losing games. 

jordan’s a very cutthroat cop -- especially in her g&n days, when it was all heat, all pressure, all the time. she’s got an eye for weakness and isn’t afraid to exploit that on the job. she’s not above making threats -- promises, really -- and has always been the type to gather as much evidence as humanly possible, because she wants prosecutors to see justice through. she’s just really efficient. she wouldn’t be where she was at only thirty-three if she wasn’t. most of the time, you can catch her putting in overtime hours. 

that being said... jordan has a big heart. she doesn’t believe in institutions as a whole, but she does believe in people. the law is the law and rules are vital for a functioning society, but .. she may be willing to look the other way sometimes, if you’re close enough. ( i mean, she was married to a valencia member at one point, so. ) she may not agree with what some people do, but she’ll really only go after you if what you’re doing is truly heinous. ( but don’t tell her supervisors! 🥺 and don’t mention the hypocrisy to her face. )

outside of work, though, jordan’s pretty chill. she used to be a loudmouthed firecracker in her youth, but she’s calmed down significantly since then. really, she’s not so bad! maybe it's because she can't handle being alone, but she thrives from being in groups + will strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. if she likes your shoes, she'll tell you. if you need a ride home then she’ll walk with you because she’s most likely equally as inebriated. kind of the person that you’re hesitant to approach, but when you do she treats you like you’re old friends -- even if you're not. you know that drunk girl in the bathroom that gives you sagely advice or tells you she loves your hair? that’s jordan, except she’s not drunk. 

when jordan makes her mind up on something, it’s almost impossible to get her to budge. it doesn’t matter if she’s in the wrong, she’ll trudge on no matter what. her flippancy in the face of danger – a prized act at this point – has landed her in trouble before, and it most certainly will again. she’s unyielding and unapologetic; not willing to change herself for anyone. getting her to talk about her emotions is like pulling teeth, except even that would probably be easier. she’s incredibly honest about some things as a way to hide behind it; it’s a farce that distracts people into thinking she’s being honest with them, when really she’s not -- not entirely, anyway. 

loves love, but she’s rotten at it. her anxiety gets in the way, tells her that she’ll mess it up somehow until she finally does, like a self-fulfilling prophecy. ( something-something abt the fact that she can’t comprehend someone loving her if not even her own parents could ). she’s a much better friend, and jordan thinks that’s more important anyhow. genuinely, if you’re her friend then she loves you endlessly and earnestly.

𝒇𝒖𝒏 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓 !

jordan is that friend that gets a little bit too into car karaoke.

she’s also the type to order a screwdriver during an 11a brunch.

it’s a wonder that she doesn’t have tinnitus, considering she always blasts heavy metal music in her car.

makes jokes about getting married and divorced, because if you can’t laugh at your pain then you’re fucked.

if you ever visit her unannounced, you’ll spot her in t-shirts that say “milf in training”, “god looks like me”, and more.

if you’re mean to her she’ll give you a parking ticket.

she plays dirty in fights. used to bite a lot as a child and she still does. all is fair in love and war, babie! enjoy getting that tetanus shot and lovely hospital bill! 💋

pantsuits from monday to friday, and overalls without a bra on the weekend because fuck that shit. also extremely partial to shirts with low plunges. a lil bit of side titty for everyone. 

if you’re leaving a drink behind she’ll finish it for you because daddy didn’t raise no quitters.

has a lot of self-worth issues, but she’d sooner die than ever tell anyone about them or even confront them herself. 

don’t let the pantsuit fool you! there’s pure muscle underneath that two-piece, babie. 

𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄. 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

“i am the shape you made me. filth teaches filth.”

"can i be blamed for my efforts? all men are drawn to the sea, perilous though it may be."

"there is a place, deep in the heart of fear, where you trap yourself and claim that is safety."

"still, a great deal of light falls on everything."

"i hold a stalk in my hand. i am the stalk. my roots go down to the depth of the world."

“i always figured when i got older, god would sorta come into my life somehow. and he didn’t. i don’t blame him. if i was him i would have the same opinion of me that he does.”

“nothing washes off.”

“you cannot be stolen, ransacked, looted like an emptied bank account or a burgled house. you are the tough old tissues, the exquisite scars. you are the thing that would not die.”

𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔 ! ( open to any gender ) 

jordan can’t function without a best friend, so.. gimme, please! 🥺🤲

i once read a passage talking about how the friendships you make in your childhood can never be mimicked in your adulthood, and you know what.. #true. where’s jordan’s childhood friends at? do they still keep in touch? did they have a massive fallout as teenagers where jordan told them to get hit by a truck because she was a very dramatic 16 yr old? were they frenemies? do they still have one of jordan’s things because she was terrible at remembering everything after a sleepover? did jordan’s parents help your muse’s family out? idc, just gimme!

exes / almost exes. remember what i said about jordan being a shit when it comes to love? they could’ve been serious at some point whether as adults or in their youth, maybe it was short-lived, maybe jordan never even let it get off the ground. could be on good terms or bad terms or no terms at all. 

neighbors!! jordan pulls some odd hours n sometimes plays her music a little too loud and burns her food more often than she should at 33 yrs old. she may or may not be the best neighbor to have is all i’m saying, but she tries!! 

friends!! platonic love is the most purest form of love there is and she’s got a lot of it to give!! come and get ya some! 

enemies / hateships because sometimes .. it just be like that. whether this has to do with a falling out of some sort, just straight up hate at first sight, or something to do with an encounter on the job, or something else entirely i’m here for it! 

one night stands / [old] fwb. i’m gonna be honest with y’all: if jordan likes you, then she can’t sleep with you. now, i’m gonna be honest with y’all again: jordan’s very much a yes-girl. she says and does things just to get a reaction sometimes or see what’ll happen ( something-something "sometimes if you let people do things to you, you're really doing it to them" ). that being said, she’ll sleep with just about anyone. maybe they don’t talk about it ever, maybe they only ever talk when they want something, maybe they regret it, maybe it’s all gucci, and maybe it was good until it wasn’t. idk! 

jordan has been shot twice in her career thus far. the first time was during a noise disturbance call and the second time was during a narc raid. if your muse wants in on that we can discuss the deets! 

and also literally whatever else your heart desires because i’m both here for the fluffiest deepest connections ever and also the angstiest makes-me-wanna-die type shit. i literally don’t say no to anything so if you have any ideas you think jordan can be a good fit for, i’m all ears!!