#this actually makes me irrationally angry that nobody talks about this

[wolfish-chan]

I love fantasy but I HATE fantasy names. What do you mean her name is Mare Barrow??? Her name means ‘horse pig’!!! Fucking horse pig??

[linesonscreens]

Let's Read Peanuts (Yes, all of it) - February 1953

There are lots of great strips I just don't have room to comment on. I strongly encourage everybody to read the full month at the official GoComics page. Today's month starts HERE.

Feb 5, 1953

Today: “Last night on the internet I read an AI-generated Sonic The Hedgehog erotic fanfic with ten million views”

Feb 6, 1953

I know that those are supposed to be weird thought balloons but it looks like Snoopy just talks now.

Feb 11, 1953

Bah, what's this nonsense? Schroeder never complained!

Feb 14, 1953

First Valentine comic? Maybe?? I really should have made a list of things to look out for when I started. -_-'

Feb 17, 1953

OK, so apparently “Ivanhoe” was a novel written in 1819 by Walter Scott. It's been adapted several times in various formats including an early 1940's comic book and a 1952 live action film.

Film trailer here.

I'd link to the comic but ~for some reason~ nobody bothered to scan and upload a 80+ year old comic nobody's ever hear of onto the internet. Rude!

Feb 21, 1953

Paperboy comics continue to be good.

Feb 27, 1953

Time is a flat circle.

Thoughts:

Apparently the only way to read that Ivanhoe comic (that I've been able to find) is to buy a physical copy off of eBay somewhere and consume it the old-fashioned way. Which is kind of a shame, right? I mean, would it have been especially good or noteworthy? Probably not, but reading a few issues would have been a fun way to get a peek into Schulz's mind and get a feel for the comics he was influenced by.

This kind of thing actually bothers me quite a bit and it's a topic that's been on my mind a lot lately. Think about it like this. Ctrl+Alt+Del is not a particularly good webcomic, but think about how many loss.jpg references have been made in various forms of media over the last couple decades that would simply stop making sense if the original comic were to become inaccessible.

All media is connected. Artists are constantly drawing inspiration from and commenting on works that came before and understanding these influences is a key part of decoding any given work. This is true not only for popular media that everybody agrees is good but also for the absolute garbage that may have been your favorite creator's guilty pleasure. It ALL matters, and it should ALL be available for anybody who's interested. Which is why it makes me irrationally angry when I'm reminded that access to older media can be such a huge crapshoot.

Anyways, I guess my call to action is to... upload more old comics? Sure let's go with that. Maybe support some of the groups archiving old stuff while you're at it. Art is cool, and we should be doing more to let people actually see it.

[snaggletoothedbastard]

While I was in the shower earlier, I realised that Kitty's relationship with Eleanor is surprisingly similar to my relationship with my best friend in primary school. I was Kitty, if you filled Kitty with extraordinary amounts of rage, and my friend was Eleanor. I must admit our friendship wasn't very healthy. I simultaneously idolised and resented my friend because she made me feel inadequate, like I had to prove I was worth spending time with. She was cool, she was trendy, she was sarcastic, she was judgemental, and she always seemed to have the upper hand. I would try to tell her about something I was interested in and she'd tell me it was stupid and boring. I would suggest a game to play and she would ignore me. I would be having a conversation with her and she would get all pedantic and argue with everything I said. She would randomly go off with someone else and I'd be left with no-one to talk to because I was terrible at making friends. I felt like I had to live up to her ever-changing standards and we'd both get angry when I couldn't.

I didn't realise that she was hurting me until Year Six, when things escalated dramatically and the mild teasing turned into active bullying. It went from "I'm cooler than you" to "I want you to be miserable" very suddenly, and for no apparent reason. We stopped being friends and I avoided her like the plague, but that was difficult to do because practically every girl in our class was at least well-acquainted with both of us, and I was scared I'd be ganged up on so I avoided the rest of them too. Then I got an e-mail from my friend. She was hugely apologetic and wanted to be friends again. I can't actually remember what my response was. I don't think the drama ended there, because the passive aggression and the snide comments and the poking me in the back when we were lined up continued almost until the end of the school year, but eventually the resentment faded. In Year Seven, my friend left school and moved away, and before she left she hugged me. I was honestly happy that things were changing, like we were being given a clean slate and a chance to move on. We could only communicate digitally from then on, and we haven't actually spoken to each other for a bloody long time, but I no longer consider her to be my enemy.

Why did I just tell you my life story? Because I saw a post yesterday that was complaining about Eleanor's "redemption" and saying it shouldn't have happened. Frankly I wouldn't call it much of a redemption. There's no arc to it. We don't see what happens next. We don't know if Eleanor becomes a better person after Kitty's death or if she stays the same. We don't know if she is punished for her bad behaviour or if she's rewarded for wanting to be better. Literally all it is, is Eleanor realising she fucked up and feeling remorse. That's it. Nobody tries to excuse her actions. Eleanor does give us a reason for disliking Kitty: because she thought Kitty had taken something from her. It doesn't take a genius to know that this isn't a fair reason, because Kitty has been nothing but kind to Eleanor, and Eleanor herself acknowledges this.

Considering the whole context of Eleanor and Kitty's relationship, I think Eleanor's behaviour and her feelings about it at the end make sense. It's not that they're justified, because they're obviously not. It's just that it's realistic.

Think about it: Eleanor is a bully. She and Kitty are sisters, probably of similar ages, have grown up together for at least some of their childhood, and seem to receive the same level of affection from other people. Neither of them are obviously favoured more than the other. Eleanor isn't worse-off than Kitty is, nor is she significantly more powerful. They're equals, but Eleanor feels irrationally jealous.

They're both pretty young, and Kitty's naivety and Eleanor's pettiness suggest that they're not the most emotionally mature people in the world, which is fair enough because why would they be? Eleanor's immaturity is shown in the way she treats Kitty. Her bullying is always either motivated by jealousy, as we see in the flashbacks in Something To Share?, or simply because she finds it funny, as we see/hear in the book/audiobook when Kitty's reading from her diary. Her "jokes" do sometimes go into dangerous territory, like when she abandons Kitty for hours when they're playing hide and seek, or when she pushes her into the lake, but as far as we know there is no desire to seriously hurt Kitty, only to embarrass her or to spoil things for her. That's why I think the Six Idiots made the right decision when revealing Kitty's death. They had the other ghosts originally suspecting Eleanor, which makes sense because they know she was horrible, and this just reinforces that fact for the audience, but to be honest, if Eleanor had murdered Kitty that would be a serious escalation from the childish bullying. And from a writing point of view, they'd already had a "supposedly trustworthy family member turns out to be responsible for a ghost's death" plot already in The Thomas Thorne Affair, so doing that again with Kitty and Eleanor might have come across as lazy writing. And I think it just fits better with Eleanor's character and her relationship with Kitty that she didn't kill her. Eleanor is a bully, but she isn't a monster.

Thinking about their relationship, it makes sense, at least to me, that Eleanor had a change of heart right at the end. We know that she didn't like Kitty, but they were sisters and they treated each other like sisters and Kitty never did anything to hurt Eleanor, so it's safe to assume that Eleanor's feelings about Kitty would probably be quite complicated. And considering her immaturity, it's unlikely that she fully understands them herself. I imagine the threat of losing someone you're close to would be a pretty sensible reason to reconsider your relationship with them and wish it could have been different. I don't doubt that Eleanor would have wanted Kitty to go away when she was alive, but she'd be understandably shocked when Kitty is actually dying and she realises how serious the matter is. Even if they didn't get along, Kitty has been a very significant part of Eleanor's life, and everything is going to be different without her. I think that's what Eleanor is worried about, and that's what triggers the realisation that she's been horrible to Kitty and Kitty didn't deserve that treatment.

Eleanor isn't some kind of cartoon villain. She's a person. Not necessarily a good person, but still a person. And I can tell you from experience that sometimes real-life people have an unexpected change of heart. To be honest, Eleanor's makes more sense to me because I know what caused it. My friend's apologetic e-mail literally came out of the blue. For all I know, it might not even have been genuine. I still feel hurt by the way I was treated by my friend, but I know that's in the past and I can't change it so I might as well live with it. I've forgiven my friend, because I've tried holding a grudge and it's exhausting, and I know history won't repeat itself. Things are never going to be the same between us and that's okay.

Eleanor doesn't get forgiveness. At least, not that we see in the show. Kitty thinks Eleanor was a good person but that's because she wasn't aware that she was bullying her. The other characters in the show know how bad Eleanor was and make no excuses for her. Everything she did to Kitty is clearly shown as abuse, and the closest thing she has to a redemption arc is simply her own realisation that she was wrong.

Was this plotline executed flawlessly? Probably not, nothing's perfect. And I don't expect everyone to agree with me, but I hope my argument at least makes sense to everyone. If you're unsatisfied with how the show went, I'm sorry, but the only solution I can give you is: fanfiction. Read it. Write it. Immerse yourself in it. You can do whatever you want with fanfiction. Go mad. Write the ending you wanted and don't harass the show's creators.

[riddlerosehearts]

time for more long-winded bg3 playthrough thoughts! this time with some musings on my tav elenion's backstory/characterization and his irrationally intense hatred of volo. i'm sure this really only matters to me, but: if something i say about elenion's backstory or personality in this post contradicts what i said in the first post where i talked about them, then whatever i'm saying now is what's correct. i didn't have very many fully formed ideas about them when i first started the game so i've been thinking a lot about them and deciding things as i've been going along.

i got spoiled on a lot of stuff about the companions but i know fuck all about the actual plot of this game outside that--like, before i started i honestly didn't even know the most basic plot element of your party coming together because you all have literal brainworms. so this stuff about true souls and cultists is just wild to me.

halsin makes it sound like you have to go through either the underdark or the mountain pass, but i really wanna explore both and i've heard that it is possible to do so in one playthrough. if i can think of how to justify that from a roleplay perspective then i might do it.

oh yeah, i guess we have volo in our camp since we saved him from the goblins. elenion really does not like him! they generally try not to show it when they interact with him, but they were having too much trouble hiding it here:

like, the dude just claimed to be an expert on mind flayers because he knows that they have tentacles. sure, and i'm an expert on cats because i know they have whiskers. and after this he offered to give them eye surgery with an ice pick when there is no way he has the qualifications to do that. get out of here with that lmao. i like volo because i think he's funny, though.

but that's not the main reason elenion dislikes volo. they dislike him because his work is filled with falsehoods and exaggerations and in their opinion he's just a liar who fancies himself a bard. not that elenion thinks there's anything wrong with writing fiction--he himself enjoys folklore and legends--but he's more of a historian and he thinks it's wrong to mess with actual events and blur the lines between fact and fiction the way volo obviously does. it's also wrong to brag about accomplishments and expertise that you do not actually have, especially when you're trying to claim you can get rid of mind flayer parasites. so yeah, volo makes elenion irrationally angry and they're probably ranting to gale or wyll about him after every interaction they have. there's a one-sided rivalry between them going on in his head.

the only good thing that volo could do for elenion would've been to sell them a lyre. but alas, this fool only has flutes and hand drums. what is he even in our camp for? 😔

(i still bought the flute and the hand drums just to try them out anyway. and if you play an instrument in camp while volo is around he starts whistling along, so i guess that's what he's good for!)

anyway, enough about elenion's hatred of volo! was not expecting gale to kneel down in front of them and had them put their hand over his heart the day after he told them his condition was too volatile for him to be with them. and then nobody acknowledges the absolutely insane connotations of doing that. okay.

and then he reveals a ton of other incredibly insane things! i've gotten shadowheart to give me a lot of info about her backstory as well. but unfortunately i already knew about a lot of both their stories because i let myself get spoiled lol. i thought i wouldn't get around to playing this game for months or even years (and would probably forget about most spoilers i'd heard by then) so i let my friend talk to me about whatever and didn't blacklist anything. i'm still enjoying actually seeing how everything plays out, though!

the fact that i waited as long as i did to go out and progress karlach's personal quest just makes the lie that "yesterday she butchered an entire family" hilarious to me, sorry. like she literally spent the entire day yesterday hanging out with the tiefling refugees from the grove. i know because i was there. also, i'm going to need to look up how this quest goes if you actually bring karlach along because i'm guessing you'd get pretty different dialogue... and i did not think of it until after i was already mid-battle, whoops.

WOW way to perfectly hit elenion with his worst insecurities. like, he has actual backstory reasons to really hate being called all 3 of these things 😭 and then she basically reads him like a book despite him trying so hard to hide all that. this is why he doesn't like her.

it uh, worked out though, i guess! she explained that she was wrong about him and i was so tempted to pick the option to call her a prickly grouch (not because i dislike lae'zel or even because i think my tav would say that out loud, but because it's hilarious). but i did not pick that. instead i had him ask if she was coming onto him and honestly i'm kind of shocked that she is?! i really did not think my approval with her was very high and also... he kind of already turned her down at the tiefling party?? and she said both here and at the tiefling party that she wanted to taste him and that rejecting her was his loss?? seems kind of redundant to get such similar dialogue twice tbh but i guess maybe the game is giving you another chance to be really sure you don't wanna romance lae'zel. that or the dialogue is glitched.

okay, because of this i checked my approval with everyone and somehow it's literally still only on medium with shadowheart but high with lae'zel. that feels backwards to me based on our previous interactions and the types of actions they each approve of so i'm genuinely not sure how that happened? oh well lol.

i don't think i like how the saving mayrina quest plays out... i won't go on too much about it but unless i missed something, my only options to complete the quest were to use a wand from ethel's workshop to resurrect her husband, which seems extremely stupid considering everything we just saw that made it way beyond obvious that messing with magic from a hag is going to be a bad idea--or to snap the wand in half right in front of her, which seems pointlessly cruel. i even used speak with dead on ethel's corpse to find out that she was actually going to eat the baby and i have no option to tell mayrina about that, or to just end the quest by comforting her without telling her about the wand. so idk. maybe choosing to bring her husband back will lead to something cool later on??

AND THEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER MAYRINA LEFT I HEARD MY TAV SAY "PERHAPS USING ETHEL'S WAND WASN'T THE BEST IDEA". ALSFDSFJG. NO SHIT. sorry lmao, but i did think that was a really cool and interesting quest for the most part.

anyway--i'm going to go to the mountain pass, even though i've heard people say that's the harder path, because it just makes more sense from a roleplay perspective to me? like i've currently been rejecting nearly every lead on a cure because all of these offers of help are coming from absolutely insane people like volo and auntie ethel and priestess gut. but the githyanki actually know shit about mindflayers and lae'zel seems trustworthy. and if i want to go through it and then double back to the underdark i can say that we were planning to check out the creche based on lae'zel's advice before going and doing what halsin said to do. or if the mountain pass is really too hard i can just ignore the roleplay in this one situation because it's not a real d&d campaign lol.

[ciaossu-imagines]

I definitely ran overly long on the last prompt and Tumblr's word limit cut me off! Because of this, I'm going to finish up the prompt here!

Cashew – Okay, I’ll openly admit Cashew’s my favourite of the phone flings! And nobody, not even the creators themselves, will ever convince me this good, bookish boy is not studying Library Sciences to become a librarian! Which is why Librarian by My Morning Jacket is the song I really associate with him.

Boss – I can’t place quite why because by all extents and purposes, his phone fling was the silliest out of all of them, but Boss seems like a really, really stressed guy. Like the kind of guy who is a workaholic and has indigestion from chronic stress but can’t let go of any of it really and can’t seem to ask for help even though it’s obvious he needs it. When I was thinking of songs for him, even though it initially doesn’t seem like it should fit, Help! by The Beatles really kept popping back into my head and that’s the one I decided to go with!

Felix – Felix is the quintessential bad boy that your parents would hate but you just can’t stay away from. Is it any wonder I chose Bad to the Bone by George Thorogood for him?

Reece – As with a lot of the others on the list, gotta pay homage to the obvious inspiration while also trying to fit the character. Couldn’t resist and definitely had to go with the upbeat, energetic, and then strangely mysterious, seductive, and almost dangerous Boom Town Suite from the Doctor Who soundtrack!

Ace – My second favourite baseball boy! This man just…yum, yum, he looks good with that bat in his hand and he’s just got this bright, welcoming demeanor! Is there any doubt I think of the good, old classic Take Me Out to the Ball Game?

Ferris – My poor, poor Ferris. This boy needs a cup of coffee, some Advil, and more than a few days off! He’s definitely stressed out, burning the candle at both ends, and so overworked. He can definitely sympathize with and deeply connects to Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5!

Poe – So, to reference a chat between Poe and Marshmallow, and because, let’s be honest, this little emo boy absolutely adores Marilyn Manson, I had to use Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson. Also, fun fact about the writer but this is one of the few songs where I love the cover version more than the original!

Logan – He’d hate it. This song actually, in my headcanon, makes him irrationally angry any time someone so much as hums it. He takes firefighting so seriously, after all. But I definitely think of Burning Down the House by Talking Heads every time Logan shows up on my screen!

Finn – Again, playing into obvious associations and inspirations, but it’s always Song of Storms from Zelda for the cutest Link expy! That and this is a solid song and always pretty enjoyable…nothing amazing, honestly, but solid and that’s about my thoughts on Finn. Oh, and if I remember correctly, can’t you actually make him play this song or something really similar?

Leo – The Cyborg Fights from the One Punch Man Soundtrack, of course! Aside from the obvious Genos inspiration, Leo is a cyborg…and he fights. Pretty damn explanatory, haha!

Seth – Stirling is a devil…literally. That’s what he is, he’s canonically from hell but honestly, a pretty stand up guy. Charming, slightly manipulative, not much in the way of morals, but overall still a damn good guy! I think Sympathy for the Devil from The Rolling Stones definitely sums Seth up pretty nicely (saying this without fully getting him levelled up so I might be proven wrong!)

Jaxon – Going with the very natural, obviously Australian vibes here. This is upbeat enough, has got a sense of adventure to it while still hinting at some melancholic touches so I had to go with Dabo’s Tales of Goapan for Handpan and Didgeridoo! Jaxon is an outdoorsman, an Aussie, and with the fact he’s mourning some things, I do feel this is such a great fit for him.

Drake – Okay, but Drake is at a magic school where the uniforms are very Hogwarts-esque (not to mention the school is actually named Snogwarts). He needs to practice magic, and he’s got this thing with a figure called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Referenced? You’re damn right I can’t help but use a Harry Potter song! In this case, I thought The Dueling Club from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets soundtrack was really the right fit for Drake!

Theo – Theo’s this fun, happy, charismatic gamer boy who’s just super easy to talk to. Gaming is something he’s really into, so I associate him strongly with video game remixes, but particularly the Animal Crossing Title Screen Synthwave Remix!

Basil – Again, playing to theming here. Basil looks a lot like Sherlock Holmes and even has you solve a mystery in his chat with you. He’s a master detective, with sharp analytical skills and keen observational skills. I can’t help but fall into the trap of thinking Sherlock for him, so the song I strongly associate with him is Spark’s Sherlock Holmes!

Fabian – Ariel ain’t got nothing on Fabian! Arrogant and confident that everything under water is so much better than on land, I can’t help but sing the opening notes to Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid soundtrack.

Nico – Nico loves music, especially music you can dance to. A DJ by trade, I definitely think any song that suits him has to be something you could find him playing in the club. I can’t explain exactly why but dubstep is definitely something I associate strongly with the character so that was the direction I went in. Flux Pavilion’s Bass Cannon is the one I settled on – it’s just impossible not to move to!

Mikey – Mikey’s whole shtick is food, and I just couldn’t resist – it’s definitely Weird Al’s Eat It for me!

Alfie Alfalfa – Given the obvious inspiration for the character, the catchy, energetic beat of the song, and how much I think Alfie would love the song, I went with Driving with the Top Down from the Iron Man soundtrack!

Sascha Ton van Twilhaar – Given his princely nature and his clothing and theming, it definitely had to be something with a sort of Persian theming. It had to be slow and sensual and charming so I kind of am heavily leaning towards Babak Afshar’s Ghesseh Dou Mahi for Sascha!

Sven – It’s the Sonic the Hedgehog theme, in particular the Sonic X theme, and we all know why!

Cole – Cole is yandere to the highest degree. He’s more than a little unhinged and so fixated on Marshmallow. It’s confirmed in game he stalks Marshmallow and everyone around them and I definitely have to go with Every Breath You Take by The Police, even if it is super obvious!

[malachitezmeyka]

I need to vent. So badly. I need to do it out loud because I’ve had enough of being stuck in my own thoughts

I need to talk to someone who’d actually listen, who wouldn’t chastise me or try to turn everything into a moral lesson or pretend like they know me better than I know myself

It’s why I can’t talk to my mom. Why do I have to live in a world where I can’t talk about my problems to my mom?

She doesn’t get me, not in a “I’m a moody teenager nobody understands me” kind of way, but in a “you know nothing about what I’m going through or crying about, why are you acting like just because you listen to instagram psychologists in your free time means you’re the most enlightened person on god’s green earth??”

I don’t have anyone I could go to. My mom’s out, who’s left? Not my little sister, definitely not my shitty dad. Who else? My grandma’s the reason my mom’s the way she is, so not her. My dad’s SIL is one of my most favourite people in the world but I don’t feel like I can come crying to her, she’s too blunt, too brutally honest. She’s helped me greatly before, but I’d go to her for any problem except emotional.

I don’t want to go to my friends. I already was the cause of a fight that ended a fourteen year friendship. I’ve already showed them that I’m extremely unstable and prone to hysterics. If I start openly crying to them about such seemingly minor things, they’ll get sick of me and I’ll lose them. I don’t know how to make friends. I don’t have anyone else.

And my problems are just so, so stupid. So inconsequential to anyone but me. Even for myself, all they bring are tears and headaches, and yet here I am, sobbing over them again and again, intentionally throwing myself down self hatred spirals that I know every curve of like the back of my hand, going throw the same thought processes that I know will make me upset.

Why do I keep doing it? Do I just like to make myself suffer? Have I no real problems?

If it wasn’t obvious, I’m once again being a whiny bitch about my art

We’ve been here a million times. My skills are nowhere as good as I’d like them to be, I’m complaining about it on tumblr dot com instead of taking steps to improve, when I try to talk about it and people give me actually good advice I get mad and hysterical because I’m not being validated in my useless, self-imposed suffering that will lead me nowhere. Yeah yeah, what else is new?

To get good at art you need to study. You need to look at what other people do, how they create art that you like, and try to learn from it. But whenever I look at people who are more skilled than I am, I turn into a fucking toddler. Why them?? Why are they better than me??? I get so irrationally angry that I literally only follow one artist, a… I suppose ‘friend’ is a nice term, though I don’t know how accurate it is. If it isn’t, then a mutual. And I get insanely jealous of her too, but I’m better at containing it. We don’t talk much, but I still don’t wanna ruin what little relationship we have because of my inability to process my emotions.

Honestly? I’m just tired. Completely fucking exhausted from all these tantrums I throw. It seems I say it so often lately, but I truly am sick of myself. The fits, the crying into my pillow until I get a pounding headache, the pushing everyone away because I can’t stand the embarrassing ordeal of being cared for… I don’t know how much more of it all I can take. I wish I didn’t exist.

My mom sat me down today when she noticed how I angrily shut off my tablet. I spent a year desperate for a shoulder to cry on, so I told her that I’m frustrated by my art, or rather, by the lack of it. I’ve told her before over the phone and she always started lecturing me about not giving up and trying and practicing and how the greats weren’t born great and all that stuff. I thought she’d be different in real life. She wasn’t.

She says I’m lazy. Says I don’t want to learn. That I don’t try. But I do. I try and I try and I try. I create canvases and start sketching and get frustrated and delete them and want to throw my tablet at the wall and snap my stylus in half… but I don’t stop trying. And sometimes, very rarely, I manage to draw something I’m happy with in the moment. Often I’ll think it should be killed with fire in a few days time, but it’s the moment that counts.

Mom tries to teach me theory she doesn’t know. She doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body, yet acts like she’s been drawing all her life. She tells me to trace over art books, to look at cartoons and movies and learn how expressions and poses work. No matter how much I yell, how much I tearfully explain that that’s not the main problem, that if I need to draw something I’ll figure out a way, she won’t listen. She can say she understands all she wants, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t get that I can’t physically visualise what I want to draw

I wanted to make some Green Opal art for a few days now. I’ve only drawn them four times before – walking side by side, sleeping cuddled up, Opal kissing Midori on the cheek and Midori holding Opal as she flips Suyin off. I tried thinking what I’d want to draw them like this time. Sitting together, one’s head on another’s shoulder? Actually kissing on the lips? Bending? Reading a book?

I tried to picture it in my head. I couldn’t come up with anything. I looked at dozens of references. Nothing seemed right. I read through lists of romantic interaction prompts. None of them inspired me. My mind’s eye was completely empty, and I don’t have aphantasia or whatever it’s called, I can normally visualise pretty much anything. But when it comes to art, it’s like someone slips a blindfold over it.

And say I did come up with what to draw – then what? Draw it? With my anatomy so wonky it could classify as body horror? My thick and lifeless lineart that suffers most from my heavyhandedness? My colours which I can never memorise the theory of? My shading which is basic at best and completely nonsensical at worst? And say I did manage to make something decent even with all of that added into the equation – then what? Post it and get a grand total of three notes?

I know art is first and foremost supposed to be for yourself, you’re supposed to enjoy making it and looking at it. But if I don’t, if I hate the process of drawing and the end result so much that sometimes I feel like killing myself over, what else is there for me to do but seek feedback? A spare like. A causal reblog with no added tags. There are days when those serve as my lifeline. Days when the hundreds of screenshots I’ve made over two and a half years of people saying nice things to me are the only things that keep me going. Even if 80% of those are things said by my friends, who are basically obligated to say nice things to me.

But if I hate art so much, why do I keep at it?

I don’t know

To prove something, maybe? To whom? My parents? Myself? Society? Probably not. I don’t have anything to prove

To leave my mark on the internet? To make myself feel like I’m doing something instead of just lazing about all day?

Am I just doing it by inertia because once upon a time a lonely middle schooler convinced herself she was gonna be an artist?

I really don’t know. If it doesn’t make me happy, what’s the point? If the number of people who interact with my art could be counted on one hand, what’s the point? If it drives me to going insane with screaming and crying at least once a week, what’s the fucking point?

I should just quit. It won’t be a big loss. Maybe then my mental health will actually improve, once I stop dragging it down into the gutter with every non finished piece that can barely count as being started

Quit writing while I’m ahead too. It’s not like I’ve written anything in a month anyway. And before that, it took me almost a year and a half to post something. It’s clearly not for me.

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

Okay, now that we've all had our fun, it's time for me to do some trauma dumping (for values of “trauma” that mostly mean “fandom bullshit” and “my dumb feelings or whatever”).  If you love The Goncharov Thing and you don't want to hear anyone bitching about The Goncharov Thing, then godspeed and god bless, this is your exit ramp.

So I hate it, I hate it a lot, and I recognize and accept a thing that when I was younger I wouldn't have been able to recognize or accept, which is that my feelings of anger, resentment, and shame are completely my affair and mine to deal with – or to rephrase, I 100% know that nobody is doing anything wrong or unfair to me, please do not interpret anything I say as a criticism of the fun anyone else is having, I am literally just Journaling For My Wellness, and because maybe other people feel similarly and would find this cathartic to read, idk.

I always feel incredibly awkward being like, Hey Guys Guess What I Was Sad As A Kid!  Because I will probably never be over the feeling that as a person who grew up with two attentive and loving parents in an environment of reasonable financial stability (like, we were occasionally Broke As Shit, but there was always food and secure housing), I had absolutely not earned the right to be sad.  Unfortunately, my Disorder did not get this memo in a timely manner, and I was a weird, fragile, melancholy child who had trouble relating to other humans and only felt truly comfortable while reading books or watching movies, because those things – particularly but not exclusively in the fantasy genre – flipped a switch in my brain that made my regular (Weird, bad, unpleasant) emotions disappear, replaced by the emotions I was absorbing through the story (adventure! enchantment! the power of friendship!)  This was, for obvious reasons, insanely addictive.

Maybe ironically, I actually got a lot better and happier as a teenager.  I mean, I had the Angst or whatever, but at that point in my life I also managed to start getting slightly cool?  My parents made me take acting classes, which they thought would be good for me, and lo and behold, it actually was.  I started being able to talk to people, it turns out that being the weird kid who knows Vampire Facts and has read every fantasy novel ever written is kind of an asset once you manage to locate the Weird Kid D&D Clique, and eventually I was kind of like – legitimately cool, because the early 90s were actually a very dope time to be a Mysteriously Sad Goth Chick who could discourse at nearly unbearable length about Alan Moore.  It was quite a specific swag, but I kind of had it nailed.

But the thing is that I was always very aware that I was fun and interesting because I had learned how to Discourse correctly, with the socially acceptable level of Moderate Goth Enthusiasm.  Regular readers here at the ol' blog will probably note that I tend to alternate being Heartbreakingly Earnest with a certain level of ironic detachment and backhanded apologies for being earnest, and this is because I am still fundamentally a Heartbreakingly Earnest person who cares so, so, so much about dumb fantasy stories but in my experience people actually hate being confronted with that and are either extremely patronizing or irrationally angry when I fuck up and talk about things just a little too much like I give a shit about them.  And I'm still really scared of getting those reactions, because it makes me feel Sad and Insecure and Small, like I remember feeling all the time when I was eight years old.

And fandom.  When I discovered online fandom in my early 20s, it provided such an outlet for me.  It felt like in that space, it was normal and not objectionable to take things just deadly, deadly seriously, to immerse yourself in the exact things I'd always felt pressured to know a lot about (to pass the tests, you know) but feel very little about, when in fact I've rarely felt Very Little about anything in my entire life.  I experienced fandom for a long time as a place where I could actually engage with media the way I did as a kid – where I could really connect with it and absorb the emotional rush from it and deep-dive into what it was saying to me and what I wanted to say back.  I cared so much about Due South and The X-Files and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I cared so much and nobody told me to stop.  I wrote whatever I wanted, and nobody told me to stop.  It didn't feel embarrassing or Too Much.  The fanfic and the meta I was producing during those years was about my bisexuality and my love triangles and my breakups and my gender, and it was also about Themes and Motifs and the fucking – power of friendship or whatever.  It was about stories that I really, really loved, even when I also (looking at you, Stargate Atlantis) got so angry about how lazy and stupid they could sometimes be with their own set-up and premise.  And I never felt weird about being more or less my actual self in fandom spaces – funny but also sad, romantic but also critical and nitpicky, sometimes kind of a lot and definitely not to everybody's taste, but just like.  A real person that people could get to know and frequently like.

I left fandom for a long time, starting in about 2007, and I did that because it felt like the space was changing.  Livejournal was on the downswing and Tumblr was coming up; I was in my early 30s and everyone else was starting to feel like a 17-year-old Harry Potter fan.  But the real reason is that there was this – I don't know, this cultural shift it felt like, where you had to act cool in fandom.  Fandom!  The literal place where you had always been allowed to go and be deeply uncool!  But now people were starting to enjoy consuming the fanworks, the art and the fiction and the vids, while also acting like they didn't...care much.  About the things I thought we were all coming together to care about.  In place of people who would track down bootlegs of some art film that the guy from that show you liked was in and make eight copies on VHS to mail to all their friends on the other side of the continent, you were getting fans who – had not watched the show at all.  Who didn't feel any desire to.  Or who had consumed the source material, but were totally comfortable just saying fuck canon, so suddenly the amount of weird shared fanon was exploding.  You had the rise of the “fandom is my fandom” people, who were in it for the social elements and the kind of fanfiction trope/voice/aesthetic – you know, the one where now you can read a pro novel and know instantly whether or not the author cut their teeth in fandom.  You started having people say things to you like it's not that deep and your book report is sucking all the fun out of fandom.

It's kind of hard to articulate how shitty all this felt to me at the time.  It made me feel deeply ashamed of thinking too much and trying too hard and caring instead of having fun – “having fun,” because being allowed to be obsessive and intense and weird and kind of needy was fun for me, it was how I had fun, and it really hit some primal soft spot in me to have to start thinking of myself as the Weird Sad Awkward No-Fun One.  It made me feel like when I was a kid and I hated talking to anyone because I never seemed to say what they expected or wanted me to say and I didn't know what they expected or wanted me to say and every interaction was a test I failed.  I didn't want to write anymore, I didn't feel like I knew what to say even to people who had been fandom friends for years.  I remember vividly the first time I knew that my time was kind of up, it was in a conversation with a popular SGA writer, someone who I'd always thought of as a friend and really looked up to.  And I don't remember if I was doing some beta reading for her, or if we were just talking in general about the show, but I kind of picked her up on some point of characterization, like I don't think this is how Sheppard would react to that or whatever, and she said, “Well, the character work is so sloppy and inconsistent on this show, I don't really worry about it too much.  I think of them as more like Pilot Doll and Science Doll, and I can do whatever I want in terms of characterization.”  Which, like – absolutely that is anyone's right as a writer, and she was producing really excellent fiction! But it kind of broke my heart, because I suddenly felt...I don't know, like an idiot?  Like, oh, here I am, like a fucking idiot, poring over my DVDs of this stupid show, trying to make things fit together, trying to understand the characters, trying to draw out the usable pieces and turn them into something that's worth loving the way I wanted to love it, and nobody else is doing that.  Nobody else thinks that's anything but a waste of effort.  And I remember that was the minute I first thought, I don't know if I'll ever feel at home here again.  I didn't log off that exact day and never return, but pretty soon I did log off, more or less completely for ten years.

If you've noticed that none of this has a goddamn thing to do with Goncharov (1973), good eye.  It's not directly related, except that I have this context of intense insecurity around the way that fiction affects me, in that I get really caught up in it and emotionally transformed by it, which feels childish and vulnerable to me and has been a quality that other people have frequently treated as dorky and off-putting if I don't put in the effort to be like Yes I Enjoy TV A Normal Amount.  And it's actually a little bit of a pain point for me that even fandom now low-key acts like it's dorky and off-putting if you let your stupid fan hobby impact your life or your sense of self, and with the combination of those factors, Goncharov posting has really felt like – almost a flex.  Fandom does what fandom does, whether the source is good or bad, if you've seen it or just seen the gifs, if it even exists or not.  Is Goncharov a good movie?  When you saw it, did it move you, did it scare you, did it confuse you, could you not stop thinking about it for days?  Well, those aren't relevant questions, right?  They don't affect the fic, the art, the memes, the Discourse – all that just happens, regardless.  That's the joke.

I get it.  That's the joke.  It's a fake movie so people are responding to the fake experience of having seen it in a way that's indistinguishable from when, say, Good Omens or OFMD took over your dash for a few weeks there.  The source doesn't matter, because fandom is not for or about that Nerd Bullshit where you curate and you saturate and you have a real emotional response that changes who you are as a person.  It's all dress-up dolls now, acting out our favorite tropes on the trending tags, Content for the Content Gods.  The joke is, you're a sucker if any of it was ever real to you.

The Goncharov Thing makes me feel like the butt of the joke, and again, that's not on anybody who does enjoy it, I'm not suggesting that there's an Objective Reality here where Goncharov shitposting is literally bullying or whatever.  I put in all that embarassing personal shit because I wanted it to be clear that I know this is because of my personal shit, because of the specific history I have with this tension between being Sad and being Fun, with feeling incredibly vulnerable around feeling the actual enormous feelings that have always been my lot in life, while my brain is telling me to keep that shit to myself.  Nobody is Goncharov posting in order to call me stupid, but it does make me feel stupid anyway, and it reminds me that I'll never feel like fandom is My Home in an uncomplicated way again, like it's a space that welcomes and rewards my authenticity.  And that's fine, things change and nobody is owed a social space that caters specifically to their needs; I think it's healthier to focus on the fact that I did have that once, and not everybody does.  I will never be ungrateful for the way that being in fandom helped me navigate my 20s, and I am still over here Just Vibing in my very dorky way, simmering gently in my obsession with a very weird tv show about a guy who loves a book in an embarrassing, irrational way that is, after all, a little bit endearing.  I'm not ungrateful to have made it back here, either.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Omg I have an angsty request that I’m sure is going to rip my heart out and light it on fire. It’s a super long and specific request so sorry if I get carried away:

Okay so reader had an unspoken thing in the glade with Gally but then he “died” so over the course of the events of scorch trials she got closer with newt and they start their own unspoken thing. But then in the death cure, newt (realizing he has the flare) starts encouraging her to reconcile with gally because he knows that he’s gonna die and gally will take care of her? But she’s confused on who she loves but kinda clings to what she has with newt because he needs her. And she’s just heart b r o k e n over newt dying but gally helps put her pieces back together in the safe haven and eventually they have their fluffy first time together?

Thanks!

*Fanfare* *Triumphant Music* I finally finished this one! Sorry it took a while, I really wanted this to be perfect. But I think I'm quite happy with how this one turned out! I hope you like it too, sweet Anon. Btw, I know you wanted smut, but I just didn't think it would fit with this one. Sorry, maybe on the next one!

Over 5.2k words, so strap in for a long one y'all

Possible Trigger Warning: Self Harm

~~~~~~~~~~

During your time in the Glade, you were practically attached at the hip with Gally.

He was your best friend, your first go to whenever you had any issues, and you were the same to him.

After his supposed death, you felt a void in your soul. You took on a nihilistic attitude, nothing in life making sense anymore. You didn't care about what happened to you or around you, you wished you had died with Gally, the idea of it being welcomed with open arms.

The thought of dying brought no anxiety, no dread. Even the thought of dying painfully didn't scare you, you wanted it. Everyday you thought about that spear going through Gally's chest, wanting to feel what he must've felt. You wanted to feel the same pain and fear, you wanted to feel like you were dying too.

No rational side of you could explain why you felt this way. Perhaps, if you felt the same pain he felt, maybe it would give some sort of closure. Maybe it would make you feel like you were still close to him, even in death.

It wasn't too long before you decided to act on those feelings. You had been only a knife to your chest, right where your heart was, hyping yourself up to push the blade into your skin.

You didn't want to kill yourself, no. You wanted your death to be natural, not forced. You'd suffer your own existence until your time eventually came like it did for everyone else. But Newt didn't know this when he happened upon you that night, just a couple centimeters of a blade shredding its way into your skin.

Newt panicked, immediately stopping your from hurting yourself, his heart racing at the thought of being too late. But thankfully, he wasn't.

You tried to seem somewhat normal, but the laughter bubbling from your chest couldn't be withheld, making Newt fear that you had lost your mind. He wasn't too far off...

He knew how much Gally's death impacted you, he knew you were in pain every second of every day, but he never thought you'd go so far as hurting yourself. He just silently patched you up, fearing anything he would say from a good place would only upset you further.

Eventually, you explained why you had done what you did. It obviously didn't sit right with Newt. He wasn't particularly close with Gally back in the Glade, but he knew well enough that he wouldn't want you to be living with this mindset.

After a while in the Scorch, you stuck by Newt the most and you started to get better. You felt so empty after Gally's death, leaving a hole in your heart. Newt helped lead you out of that void, trying his best to fit that empty space. But you knew nobody could replace Gally, not even Newt. You knew that space could never be filled, but just seeing Newt try to be that person for you, it was too endearing not to pull at what heartstrings you had left.

Then the complications happened, so much time spent believing that Gally was dead came crashing down as he stood in front of you all, very much not dead.

You thought it had to be a dream, could he really be here?

It was strange. You thought you'd run to him, leap into his arms and kiss all over his face, but you didn't. You stood next to your friends awkwardly as he took off his gas mask. To think you'd be more outwardly happy that someone you cared about was still alive. But you couldn't help the guilt that you felt when Gally said that they left him to die. Sure, it might've not been specifically directed to you, but you felt the sharp sting of his words resonate through you. It almost felt like a strong invisible force hit your funny bone, the volt of uncomfortable aching pain spreading throughout your entire body and leaving you in a breathless agony.

For Gally, he was overjoyed to see you alive and well. He so badly wanted to go to you, feel you in his arms again. But he knew he couldn't, how could he after how he treated everyone back in the Glade?

He didn't remember a lot, but he knew he killed Chuck. The blurry memories of that day, he saw it every night in his dreams. He remembered the sound of the gunshot, the sudden pain in his chest and not being able to breathe. He saw Chuck laying beside him, his expressionless eyes trained on the ceiling, unmoving. His chest wasn't rising and falling like it should've been, blood seeping through his layers of clothing. The most purest soul Gally ever met was dead, and it was his fault.

Gally couldn't even bring himself to look in your direction, he was too disgusted with himself.

Thomas punching Gally wasn't a big shock, he knew he deserved it. But Newt quickly came to his rescue, stopping Thomas from acting out irrationally. But a part of Gally didn't want the Greenie to be stopped. Being punched wasn't something he enjoyed, but Gally would willingly endure whatever punishment that would be inflicted and he'd accept that he deserved it. But nothing he could do or say would bring Chuck back...

When Gally did finally force himself to look at you, he wish he hadn't. You looked indifferent, which never happened with you. He instantly thought that you hated him as much as Thomas did, but then again, he deserved it.

It was really tough for Gally to keep a conversation with everyone while he took them to see Lawrence, especially when he noticed how close you stuck by Newt. But, he supposed it was only natural to find another person to be close to when you've lost someone else, he still couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that bubbled up in his chest. He hated how good you and Newt looked together, you seemed...happy.

At the moment, you weren't even close to happy; you were confused, and angry.

It sounded terrible, but a part of you was angry that Gally was actually still alive. You had to go through the mourning process, and you hadn't even finished it and now all of a sudden, he was alive all this time. It put your emotions on haywire, the most you felt was confusion, and if someone would've told you what you were experiencing was some sort of a twisted dream, you would believe them. But your feet were too sore and sunburn too irritating for this all to be a dream.

You sensed Newt's eyes trained on you, you knew he was probably worried, but you couldn't decide what for. Was he worried that you'd go back to Gally? Was he worried you'd replace him now that he was still alive? Knowing Newt, he probably just wanted to talk to you, but even then, you would have no idea what to say. What do people feel or say in situations like this? You were certain not everyone has to go through the loss of a loved one just to find out that they weren't gone, right?

It was late, and you were exhausted, as was everyone else; but you stayed awake, attempting to sleep only causing you to toss and turn, and eventually giving up. But someone else was awake, you were shocked to see that it was Newt. "What're doing awake?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Could ask you the same thing." You replied, only getting a look from Newt in response. "Couldn't sleep." You sighed, caving in to his concerned expression.

"I know it's not my place," Newt started, wringing his hands together nervously, "but, you haven't said a word to Gally." You knew he was going to bring that up, you had that feeling as soon as he saw you were still awake. "I know it was a shock, to all of us. But I thought it'd effect you the most, to be quite honest. You two were pretty close..."

You shrugged weakly, shaking your head. "I don't know what to tell you. Was I supposed to react a certain way? Was I supposed to drop to my knees and burst into tears or something?"

Newt grimaced. "No...of course you're not supposed to act a certain way. It's just a bit strange to me that you haven't tried to speak to him at all."

"I don't even know what I'd say to him." You chuckled bitterly.

"I know you and Gally had something, something special. That sort of thing doesn't just go away. You were absolutely gutted after what happened, this is a chance to reconnect. You care about him, a lot."

"Hey, that doesn't change the way I feel about you. I care about you a lot too."

Newt smiled weakly. "I know, but I really think you should go and talk to him."

You could tell he was being sincere, but you couldn't understand why. You two had grown close over the past several months, so why would he want you to reconnect with someone you used to be even closer with? You weren't really given the time to think over it more before Newt was quickly encouraging you to speak with Gally, telling you where his room was, somehow knowing this conversation would happen and finding out beforehand.

Just a few moments later, you found yourself outside of Gally's door, fist extended out to hover over the worn wood, but you couldn't bring yourself to knock. Thinking back to how hard you tried to avoid Gally when he came back, what if he thought you hated him? What if he didn't want to talk to you?

But before you could chicken out, you forced yourself to knock on Gally's door without thinking, soon hearing the thud of footsteps nearing. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open, anxiety gripping your mind so intensely that it almost triggered your fight or flight response. But Gally's almost hopeful and shocked expression when he saw you waiting relaxed you a little bit. "...hi." Gally voiced, the nervous and confused tone to his voice not going unnoticed by you.

"Hi." You replied, your voice probably just as shaky and nervous as his.

"Uh, come in." He said quickly, moving out of the doorframe, his hands slightly shaking when he motioned you to enter his room.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, so fast and hard that you were worried Gally would be able to hear it. Your hands were shaking, as well as your legs as you walked into his room, it was a miracle you didn't collapse right then and there. You tried not to jump as you heard the click of his door closing, you tried to take deep calming breaths before Gally turned to face you, the two of you almost on complete opposite sides of the room just standing awkwardly.

You stared at Gally, your gaze running up and down his body but ultimately stopping to stare at his chest. Tears quickly came to your eyes as you saw how healthy he looked, like a spear wasn't embedded in his chest months ago. You couldn't stop the flow of whimpers that came from your throat, putting your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment. You felt your face start to burn as you felt Gally's arms wrap around you as soon as you started to cry, but his warmth comforting you only caused you to let out more tears.

You never thought you'd be in his arms again.

Gally stood there silently, holding you and just trying to soothe you as best he could. In the back of his mind, he was astonished that you even let him come near you, you had avoided him altogether up until this moment. But the whimpers he heard coming from you, seeing the tears spilling from your eyes, he instinctively went to hug you. He also couldn't ignore the guilt he felt, thinking that you were crying because of him. He hated it. But you hugged him back tightly, burying your face in his chest and trying to stifle your sobs.

"You're here..." You cried softly, "you're really here..."

Gally's lip trembled, tears of his own brimming his eyes at how much pain you must've been in thinking he was dead all this time, your voice giving away your feelings. He exhaled shakily, "I am here." He placed a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm here."

For a few minutes, you and Gally just held each other silently. You both needed this, understanding how badly you missed one another. Soon, you were able to calm yourself, but you still didn't pull away. Gally only pulled away slightly so he could see your face, frowning when he saw your eyes were puffy and tearstained. "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. "What happened wasn't your fault, Gally." You said genuinely. No matter how much pain and anger you felt about what happened to Chuck, you never once blamed him. You knew W.C.K.D. killed him, and every other Glader who died. But Gally's frown told you everything you needed to know; he still blamed himself.

"I should've gone with you." He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "How can you even stand the sight of me?"

"Because I know you never would've killed anyone if you weren't stung, especially Chuck."

Hearing Chuck's name out loud made tears brim Gally's eyes once more, tightening his fists in anger at himself. "Chuck deserved so much better...he wasn't supposed to die..." He cried, causing you to pull him back into your embrace, rubbing his back while trying to not to cry again.

"None of us deserved to get experimented on."

Eventually, you lead Gally to sit next to you on his bed, holding his hand. It felt so right to be sitting there with Gally, you missed him so much that you despised ever feeling even the slightest bit of anger when you first saw that Gally was alive. But one emotion did not go away, you still felt confused.

While sitting there with Gally, you couldn't help but think about Newt. He was so adamant about you reconciling with Gally, was he hoping that something would happen between you two? You truly cared a lot about Newt, and you knew he felt the same way, so you couldn't understand why he was acting this way.

You sighed softly when you started to feel sleepy, standing up slowly. "I should probably head back."

Gally quickly stood up with you. "Uh, you could stay here if you want?" He stammered, causing you to smile a little.

"That's okay. I already had a sleeping bag set up for me downstairs, so..."

Gally tried to hide his disappointed frown, choosing to walk up to you until you two were face to face. Maybe it was too soon, but ever since he saw you, Gally had the strongest urge to place his lips on yours. He missed your soft lips that he only had the privilege of feeling a few times back in the Glade before everything happened. He gently grabbed hold of your jaw, tilting your face up and leaning forward slowly.

You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. But before his lips could connect, Newt's face popped up in your mind and you couldn't, you forced yourself to turn away.

You tried not to look at Gally's face, knowing that he'd probably look like a kicked puppy. You couldn't, it would be too painful. "It's Newt." Gally frowned, taking a step back.

Your eyes widened, finally taking a glance over to him to indeed see that his expression was one of disappointment and sadness. "I never said-"

"You didn't have to." Gally interrupted. "I see the way you look at him...it's how you used to look at me." You stayed silent, a feeling of guilt washing over you. "I don't blame you, Y/n, for finding someone else. I'd never expect you to grieve over me forever, that's too selfish."

Hearing this, you had a terrifying thought that you needed to voice out loud. "Did you ever find someone else?" You asked nervously, afraid of his answer.

"No..." He smiled weakly, "No one that could ever compare to you."

You hated that you felt relieved, you were the one who seemed to be selfish. But, you couldn't just drop what you had with Newt now that Gally's still alive. You couldn't say anything else, what could you say to that?

"You should get some sleep." Gally said, opening his door and motioning you to get out.

"Gally..." You whispered.

"Please. Just...we have a busy day tomorrow."

You sighed. You couldn't argue with him.

Newt watched you walk back downstairs, getting into your sleeping bag with a very prominent frown. Doesn't seem like it went well, he thought. He felt relieved and frustrated at the same time. Newt really cared for you, he could even go as far as saying he loved you, but he needed you and Gally to get back together, or become friends again at least.

It wasn't too long ago that Newt found out he had the Flare. He saw the black and purple veins slowly travelling up his arm, and the pain, the pain was the worst part. You had already gotten close to him, so he was heartbroken to know that you'd just lose another person you cared for. After Gally, he knew you wouldn't be able to handle another loss. So when Gally showed up out of the blue, it was like a miracle, Newt's prayers had been answered.

Newt felt jealousy, of course, he wanted to stay with you. He didn't want Gally to take you from him, but what use would he be when he was dead or a Crank? He tried not to be angry with you, it wasn't your fault how you were feeling, but he needed to know you'd be okay when he was gone.

Newt did try talking to you about it, but you always changed the subject or simply didn't answer him. Before you all knew it, it was time to start planning Minho's rescue mission. Thomas didn't want to use Teresa, and hearing that only made Newt's anger bubble to the surface.

It wasn't like Newt to lash out like that, he was always so calm and relaxed. Maybe the stress finally got to him, maybe it was something else...

You immediately followed after Newt when he stormed out after yelling at Thomas, not knowing that Gally's sad eyes were following you. You couldn't think of anything else, you just had to know that Newt was okay.

You found Newt on the roof, sitting on the ledge. "Newt?" You asked, concerned. "Are you okay...?" You stepped closer captiously, finally taking a seat next to him.

Newt only smiled bitterly. "No...no, not really."

You sighed, looking out to the horizon, trying to find the right words to say. "We all thought Teresa was our friend...it's okay to be angry."

Newt shook his head. "It's not that."

You furrowed your brows. "Then, why did you lash out at Thomas?"

Newt bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He never wanted you to find out this way. He didn't even want you to know. But after that scene he made, he knew there was no point in hiding it anymore.

Tears came to your eyes as Newt lifted up his jacket sleeve, revealing his discolored arm. You knew what it was immediately, seeing it on every Crank you came across. "No..." You whispered. "No."

"I know I probably shouldn't have kept it from you, but I was scared. I still am."

"We'll fix it!" You quickly said, it sounding more like a plead. "We'll find another cure!"

Newt only gave you a weak smile. "I don't think that's a possibility right now, love. Besides, Minho needs us."

"No, you're not allowed to give up like that, Newt. We'll find something to help you. If Brenda was cured, so can you. Teresa might-"

"Please, Y/n." Newt voiced sharply. "Please...just stop. I don't need false hope."

Before you could say anything else, you heard the roof access door open, Thomas walking up to the two of you. "Y/n, can I, uh, talk to Newt? Alone?"

You looked to Newt, who nodded, signaling for you to leave. You stood up, speed walking inside and down the stairs. The tears kept falling, blurring your vision, and you had no idea what to do. Newt was dying, and there was nothing that you could do about it, and it didn't seem like he was too eager to try and find a cure. You hoped Thomas could talk some sense into him. But in that moment, your feet subconsciously took you to Gally's little apartment. You stood in front of the door in tears, wishing that you didn't feel the urge to find comfort in him when Newt was sick. But, you knocked on the door, quickly placing yourself in Gally's arms as soon as he was in front of you.

Gally didn't know what was wrong, he barely got a good look at your face before you threw yourself at him. But the way you were shaking and whimpering, he knew you were crying, and he didn't have the heart to pull away from you. He walked backwards and shut his door, leading you to sit down on his bed with him. He just held you as you cried, leaning his head down on top of yours until you calmed down. He finally spoke when your cries were just quiet sniffles. "What happened?"

You exhaled a shaky breath, lifting your head to look at Gally. "Newt has the Flare..."

"W-What...?" Had Gally heard that right? Could his mind be playing tricks on him? He just assumed everyone that was in the Glade was immune, that's why they were there, right? But you repeated what you had said, confirming what Gally thought he heard. "I...I'm so sorry..." That's all Gally could say. He wasn't very well spoken in these types of situations, all he could do was bring you back into another hug.

You finally understood why Newt was pushing you to get close to Gally again; he wanted you to be close to someone when he died.

Yet another situation that had you confused. You knew you loved Gally, you always had, he was your best friend. But now you had Newt, he helped you through everything while in the Scorch, helped you try to overcome your grieve and probably saved your life multiple times. How could you possibly make a decision like this?

You and Gally never put a label on what you had in the Glade, and nobody asked either, not even Alby. You both just knew that you cared for one another, that you'd do anything for the other. But as time went on, you felt guilty knowing what you'd ultimately choose. It was always going to be a lose lose for you.

Newt needed you, and you couldn't leave him when he needed you the most.

Gally, deep down, knew what your decision was going to be. You had a big heart. You never would leave anyone behind, even if they were infected. Back in the Glade, Gally wouldn't have hesitated in sacrificing the few to save the many, but you were never like that. You cared about everyone, especially the people who were closest to you. You never were going to give up on Newt, you couldn't now. You would spend as much time with him as possible, what little time he might've had left. And you did, until he took his final breath.

You felt like you were a glass vase that had been shattered, and every time you tried to pick up the pieces, the glass would just cut deeper and deeper into your skin. It felt like life didn't want you to be put back together. Nothing felt real. Everything that happened in the Last City felt like a fever dream. You hoped that one day you'd wake up and you'd be back in the Glade, everyone was still alive. Maybe if you could go back in time, maybe you could save everyone, maybe you could've convinced Gally to listen to Thomas, maybe you could've held off Newt a bit longer in time for Brenda to give him the cure.

A lot of maybe's, a lot of hopes and prayers, never answered.

Now in the Safe Haven, you felt anything but safe.

You didn't talk to anyone for awhile, not even Gally. You had nothing to say, and you were afraid of breaking down in front of everyone. So, you isolated yourself. And then a couple weeks later, you finally felt everything bubble to the surface.

Sitting down somewhere along the coastline, not too close to the water, but close enough that you could feel the salty breeze of the waves hit you gently as the evening cooled when the sun started to go set.

You tucked yourself up into a ball, your knees as close as you could get them to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. And, you cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. The ugly kind of crying. Your tears weren't coming out one eye at a time in a perfectly straight line down your face like in the movies, you weren't making quiet sniffles or whimpers, you were full on sobbing. Tears came out of your eyes so fast that you could barely make out the sun on the horizon, your shirt sleeves were most definitely covered in snot and whatever salty tears it had the chance to catch. Your throat felt like it was being torn apart by how intense your sobs were. The sobs sounded more like you were having a coughing fit, one of those phlegmy hacking coughs that made you feel like you were going to vomit.

You knew you most likely weren't far enough away from the camp to quiet your weeping, and you knew you were just embarrassing yourself, arranging for yourself to be completely humiliated the next morning when you had to face everybody. But in the moment, you couldn't care less. You loss someone so important to you, it felt like losing Gally all over again. But you knew this time, it was final. No surprise resurrections this time. You felt completely, and utterly, alone.

But you never were.

You felt so dissociated and detached from yourself, the wails of grief too much for your body to handle. You couldn't feel anything around you, not the warmth of the sand, not the slight chill breeze, not even Gally's arms wrapped around you tightly. You didn't realize until you passed out from exhaustion, waking up the next morning in a bed that wasn't yours, and a hut that wasn't yours.

Your vision was still a little bit blurry, all the tears from the night previous crusting to the creases around your eyes, making it a bit of a challenge opening them all the way. But, your other sense were intact enough to tell you that bacon and eggs were next to you on a bedside table. You hadn't eaten the day before, so it was mostly a primal reaction to quickly take the plate and gobble up the food.

You still had to rely on context clues to figure out where you were in the camp. As much as your eyes irritated you, they could now finally work once you were wide awake. You probably should've known immediately who's hut it was, but seeing that familiar grey knitted hoodie settled ungracefully over the backrest of a chair, you knew it was Gally's.

You blushed quickly after that realization. How did he know where you were, and how much did he see? The thought of him seeing you in such a state made you cringe. But what was more horrifying was that Gally was right outside the room, waiting for you to wake up. "Hey..." He voiced, his eyebrows knitted in concern, eyes full of sadness.

You had to look away, the heat rushing to your face making you feel like you were going to pass out again. "Hi." You croaked, your vocal cords still sore and raw.

Gally shifted his weight nervously, taking a step closer to you. "I'm sorry, for bringing you here...I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself." You snapped you gaze back to him in confusion, him quickly blushing, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, Newt told me about what you did to yourself after...after the Maze."

You self-consciously rubbed the spot on your chest where a big scar still remained. "I wasn't trying to...you know, kill myself or anything."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." He said softly, taking a seat on the bed next to you.

You sighed, crossing your arms. "I just...I didn't know what I was thinking."

Gally gently grabbed ahold of your hand, making you uncross your arms, letting his warm hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. Newt should be here with the rest of us. He was a good person."

You nodded as tears came to your eyes again, burning enough to make you whimper, and you leaned your head against Gally's shoulder. "I miss him so much." You cried.

Eventually, you and Gally became close again. He was always there for you. Whenever you had nightmares, whenever you were lonely, whenever you needed anything, Gally would always be there. You started to feel your relationship had almost gotten back to the point where it was in the Glade, it had been almost a year, but you still felt it was too early to be moving on. A part of you didn't want to move on, but you knew that's not what Newt wanted either.

You didn't read the note Newt wrote to you when Thomas first gave it to you. The grief was still too near, and you didn't know if you could handle it. But a couple months after your breakdown, you finally read it. Newt loved you, he had always loved you. And he wanted you to be happy, he didn't want you to be sad that he was gone, even though he knew it would be impossible. But he knew you would be okay, he knew Gally would protect you no matter what. Reading his note was part of the reason you knew it would be okay to be with Gally, it just took you some time.

One day, you and Gally were taking a break from working, just sitting near the forest tree line, and you did it; you kissed him, and you couldn't stop, you didn't want to stop. And you didn't, and neither did Gally.

After that, it was almost impossible to spend any time away from each other.

You never thought you'd smile again, but Gally always found a way. He made you so happy, and it made you cry one night when you finally realized that you were happy, and you knew somewhere out there, it made Newt happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cries in Español

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. LO Eris looks like a humanized version of that chicken from FNAF 💀 you know the one

From OP: Not Chica 😭

2. ya know rachel wouldnt have to acknowledge the issues in her work if she just ... didnt put them in to begin with. no one told her there had to be a creepy age gap, a worship of capitalism, slavery, etc, like she gets all huffy and angry people point it out and call it weird and it's like??? ma'am no one forced you to put that in?? and depict it so badly on top of it??

3. Just a thing a noticed. I feel like apart of Hera’s racism towards the nymphs is some sorta inferiority complex. Hades was almost engaged to a nymph that Hera hated, but also had an affair with hades and didn’t believe he “outgrew” Hera until Minthe and Hades broke up. And then there’s Zeus and Thetis and Zeus’ other nymph gfs. Like she’s a fraud being the goddess of marriage but covers up that insecurity by pretending Minthe, Thetis and other nymphs could ever be with her men (Zeus and hades)

And Hera really doesn’t like other women just like any other myth. Hera doesn’t like Artemis or Aphrodite (i think that follows the myths) like she only likes her sisters, hebe and Persephone. She doesn’t seem to like anyone else. Idk I just wished we could see Hera actually like someone without being racist at first.

4. Lo Eris being Zeus and Hera's kid makes me irrationally angry. Like , she's really just decided to MAKE SHIT UP. Not as a joke, but in complete seriousness, she looked Greek mythology fans in the eye and said "Eris, the goddess of Chaos and Discord, is not Nyx's child anymore. I changed that cause I didn't like it. She's Zeus and Hera's child now."

Absolutely ridiculous. If anyone can take this comic seriously after that then they're brainwashed.

From OP: Some people have said Eris is Hera and Zeus’ child in some versions but I do think her being Nyx’s child in this case would be better.

5. so are we just.. supposed to ignore persephone is r//ped onscreen, and it's supposed to be framed as "romantic" she calls hades afterwards? that's literally using sexual assault to push a couple together, as if she had a bad argument with her crappy boyfriend as is now venting her frustrations to her "nice guys finish first" love interest as opposed to being R//PED and having no reaction to it besides talking to some old man she met only hours before? what the fuck???

6. I absolutely HATE that Minthe was made to be an abuser in LO (when she slaps HAdes & verbally abuses him). Minthe is dependent on Hades in almost every regard, esp financially but also emotionally. He is her boss! Her dependence on him is what he likes about her. The power dynamics are NOT in her favour at all. This is just not how abusive relationships work & it's obviously only there to make Minthe look even worse in comparison to Persephone.

7. i don't think how hxp is depicted in LO is grooming, I just think it's just a really badly written relationship that hinges on outside forces forcing them together than actually developing the, realistically. take out apollo, hera, eros, etc then what tells us theyd even talk to each other, much less end up a coupe? that is the problem to me, they just arent written well, hence why rachel having other characters having to mention how "in love" they are all the time is a self aware red flag.

From OP: Yeah, I personally don’t see it as grooming either (the power dynamic is still another red flag though).

8. Ok, ok ... But no one is going to talk about the fact that Ares has children with Aphrodite, they maintain an "open" relationship, even Ares stays at his partner's house, and yet he tells Zeus that he would love to get married with Persephone? I mean, fuck, Ares here doesn't respect Aphrodite (Nobody in the comic actually does) and it's horrible.

The "Open relationship" thing does not justify this type of actions, because even so, you must have respect and be honest with your main partner, which Ares never applies, and it sucks that Aphrodite is the only one who really contributes to the relationship. He cannot sleep with Zeus, nor have relations with certain men, but instead, can Ares court minors and all kinds of women when he feels like it? That's not very feminist of you, Rachel

9. i get its like a fandom joke to call apollo "asspollo" but it seems imho to kinda trivialize what he did?? like idk would you call ted bundy "ted BUTTY" and think its funny? idk how they claim to care so deeply about the "darker topics' in comic when they seem to much rather make a joke out of them than give it any weight. even the SA itself is treated as more of something for P to just "get over" so she can get to making Hades babies. I get the fans are young but its gross behavior.

10. I hate how LO stans praise Hades for being better than Apollo like do you hear yourselves? Why are we praising a man for barely being better than her literal r4pist? Plus even then Hades still grabs her body and face without her consent. controls her life/money/shelter. and even forced her to tell him about her sexual assault which she wasn't comfortable with because HE WAS SPYING ON HER. Sure he's not a r4pist, but how does he deserves all this praise? How low is the bar here?

[mariaiscrafting]

ahhhh ty ty ty <3

ok, so I think that what makes Dream act this way (iykyk) is how dreamwastaken became so big so quickly. and by quick I mean fucking lightning speed.

he didn't have enough time to learn enough about cc etiquette, especially in these three aspects: influence, boundaries and fanbase/stans/whatever you call it. I'll try to explain it:

• Influence: Does he know the influence he has? Like, when he hears that he is the myct with the largest fanbase, does he really process that? I remember he talked about not being able to control all of his fanbase and there's bad apples everywhere -- which is true, and that only like 1% of his fanbase breaks his boundaries (that include sending hate for him, harassing, doxing, etc. yk, basic twitter culture lol) but, honey, with your big ass fanbase, 1% is still a lot of people. As a content creator you *have* to be aware of that.

let's take the hbomb situation. First off, as a streamer, it's you that set the mood of the stream. Even if he was only messing around with his pals, even if they did say to do not send hate to hbomb, dt dunking on him created a toxic environment, which caused his fans being toxic towards hbomb and you know what happens next. Hell, when this happened, I was watching Tapl and he was watching them and he was crying laughing over them screaming bc they were just. so loud and so aggressive that it was kinda ??? Sirs, this is literally a Minecraft Stream lmaooo

my point is, that was not the road that dreamwastaken, 21M fans, should've taken. he don't condone his fans actions but he knows his fans are diehard and will always be on his side, he should be more careful before stating negative opinions, especially if its towards another person.

• Boundaries and Fanbase: He posted a list of his boundaries a while ago, idk if you know or seen it (btw please george copy your bestie for the love of god <3) but I'm not talking about those boundaries, I'm talking about the basic boundaries between cc and viewer. boundaries that, in my opinion, should exist between cc and viewer. I get that Dream is an open person, an oversharing type of open person if I may add, but I think he should take a step back regardless. When I heard that he was taking a time from twitter, I genuinely got so glad, not because he couldn't start any drama then, but because it would do so so good for his mental health. I'm not even that fond of him, it's just that for me, any cc taking a break or outright leaving twitter is a win for me. I know how RSD is hard to deal and honestly letting shit out it's better but dream you have dt you have bbh so please don't make things worse online 😭 I know how good can be to feel validation from millions of people but. it's not a good idea, especially in the state that his fanbase is on rn (this topic is kinda sensitive to talk abt for me bc people be outright ableist and hide it as criticism like. say that shit's not helping his reputation and whatever without acting like he's fucking. manipulating his fanbase for being affected by his rsd💀 or, on the other hand, don't say that hes just being adhd🤪 when he's just being an asshole like damn that's a Him thing bro lol)

(omg it's so big I'm so sorry and theres a part two I'm so sorry tumblr user messed-up-gal ToT) - morango 1/2

pt. 2:

Dream is the proof that the people who loves you can be your downfall. istg. Have you noticed that every drama that Dream enters, people usually get more mad abt how his fanbase reacts (85% they'll react in a bad way) than Dream himself? it's not always, but its definitely more likely. I'm not saying Dream is saint, he Is petty and his ego does him dirty and made him choke multiple times before,, But! i dont think hes a bad guy. he's literally just a dude. ok, he's a 21yr old white gamer man that has a trumpie past (maybe?? idk. I think hes cured now ig lol) so he's bound to do some shitty things but he still tries to get better and hopefully he'll mature. 21 is old enough but it's still so young, yk? I kind of lost my mind during the end and my eyes are literally begging to be closed so tl;dr: Its gonna be hard for him to become a better cc bc his fans don't let him be criticized (by infantilizing his adhd symptoms or the mob mentality as soon as someone says anything abt him), the honest criticism get lost between lies from antis that don't know shit, he still has a lot of growing up to do and overall he became famous too fast and he needs to learn things even faster bc as soon as there's not a single one dream hater on sight they'll turn their back and attack him instead lmao I hate twitter i definitely have more to say but I'm tired and my memory is shit. just-- hate dream if you want, love dream if you want, nobody is obligated to have an opinion but I wanted to express mine. have a lovely day! -morango 2/2

Aight, there's a lot to unpack here, so Imma try to only go into the points I have something to add to (here's what I talk about in each paragraph, if you want to jump to a specific point):

Speed of Dream's rise to fame

The "bad apples" in the Dream fanbase

Post-MCC HBomb stream

Not condoning versus actually condemning his fans

Manipulation & RSD

Criticism of Dream, his fanbase, and his brand

The “just a dude” argument, flipped

First, I agree that one of the many factors that has resulted in the current image Dream has set up for himself, the way his fanbase functions, the ways people hate on him, and the way the Dream brand functions, is the speed of his rise to fame. It's unique, and there are probably a hundred social/psychological angles that could be used to examine the exact effects of that speed upon all of these facets of the Dream Name; did rapid fame beget the rapid rise of unrighteous hatred, did those waves of hatred then instigate the rise of a surprisingly overdefensive fanbase, did that rapid fame get to his head and/or result in an inability to appropriately handle all the after-effects of rapid fame, etc.? That point you bring up, about how the speed of his rise to fame requires him to learn even more quickly, is so interesting to me. I think that maybe Dream expected to get pretty famous pretty quickly, hence the preparedness in regards to some mechanics of influencer fame- merchandise, business-building, networking, knowing how to manage his fanbase to best benefit him. But I don't think he expected to get this famous this quickly. This is all speculation of course, as are this entire post and your ask, but I think that he just couldn't anticipate having to learn how to handle enmasse controversy, waves of antis, or every Youtuber speculating/knowing about him; and yeah, that results in him having to learn all of these things very quickly, lest he allow his whole brand and fandom to fall apart.

Second, I disagree with the frequent argument that Dream's fanbase is only marginally toxic. Personally, I think that the circumstances of Dream's fame, his personality and management of his fanbase, and his brand of content have resulted in the very specific kind of stan that Dream stans are. I don't think this is simply a case of "all fandoms have a small percentage of assholes who take it too far;" rather, the nature of the community itself breeds the kind of mentality of "an asshole who takes it too far." I only even know this because I was a Dream fan (kinda a stan, I'm ngl). At one time, I watched every single Dreamwastaken & Dream Team video multiple times; I listened to the Manhunts on repeat, as though they were podcasts; I followed mostly smiletwt and dttwt accounts on mcyttwt; I had upwards of 10 tabs for AO3 DNF fics open on my phone at a time; I watched DNF and Dream Team Being A Family-esque compilations on repeat; I watched every George and Sapnap alt stream I possibly could; I went out of my way to defend Dream against Redditors and Twitter antis regarding the cheating scandal. For the latter half of 2020, and a couple months of 2021, I lived and breathed this part of the fandom; so when I say that Dream stans are a whole other breed than any other kind of mcyttwt stan, I say that because I used to be like that, too. I usually use parasocial very loosely or ironically, but Dream stans are genuinely one of the most parasocial fanbases I have ever seen or been a part of. The level of investment Dream stans have in this man's life, the lengths they will go to to defend him, the amount of psychonalysis and digging they do on his life and character, the amount of emotion he can evoke in them- it's taken to another level, man. This isn't just characteristic of a fraction of his fanbase; this is what the fanbase is like as a whole.

Third, I partially disagree with your take on the HBomb thing, but not in the way one might think? I actually empathize with the way they reacted much more than I thought I would, simply because I suspect I have RSD (also suspect I have ADHD, have for several months now) and I can see myself getting insanely frustrated because of something like that. Like yeah, it was "just a MC stream" or "just an MC game," but that's kinda disregarding the fact that something that might seem like "just a [insert inconsequential thing]" to a rational mind might have a major emotional consequence/take a major emotional toll on someone with RSD, or really anyone who gets easily impatient/angry about video games (Sapnap reminds me of many of my friends, in that way). The issues I, personally, had with the way they handled the HBomb situation is that these are simply explanations and reasons for my empathy; they are not excuses. I have no excuse when I get irrationally angry about something inconsequential in my own life, for a couple of reasons. One, because I am an adult and I need to learn how to handle my reactions and manage my own anger. Two, because as someone with many mental problems, it is my responsibility to learn coping mechanisms to ensure my own emotional stability and livelihood; this includes learning whatever I need to handle RSD- whether that be isolating myself from others when I know I will become violently/passionately angry about something, creating and sustaining a support system that can get me through bouts of extreme emotion, finding healthy emotional outlets for my negative emotions that won't harm myself or others, or a combination thereof. I don't think what they said about HBomb post-MCC was an irreversibly horrible thing, or anything. I think there were errors committed by two men who should be fully capable of foreseeing and preventing those errors, but I don't unconditionally hate Dream or Sapnap for the post-MCC stream or comments. I just wish they had made amends quickly, publicly, and sufficiently, because the greatest consequences from the whole thing weren't even from those two criticizing HBomb themselves; they were from the waves of backlash because of their immense influence on the MCYT fandom, which could've been prevented, if they had acted maturedly and responsibly after the stream.

Fourth, you’re right, that he doesn’t seem to condone his fans’ behavior. I detest the frequent anti argument that one of the reasons Dream should be criticized is because he explicitly uses his fanbase to attack others, or something of the sort. Personally, I think he created his fanbase in a very specific way and interacts with them in such a way so as to benefit him as much as possible, yes, but he never actually tells his fanbase to go and yell at or harrass anyone. Still, there is a significant difference between not condoning something and condemning something. It might seem unfair, and it might be annoying of me to say this, but I truly think that someone with this large a fanbase, especially one as overzealous as Dream’s, needs to be condemned every single time it goes on some kind of rampage/harrassment campaign. Either that, or Dream needs to make a definitive, permanent statement against any kind of harrassment of others on his behalf. I know he’ll occassionally make the odd tweet or serious stream addressing something his fanbase did, but one of the many reasons his fanbase keeps doing the same damn thing is because he’s so lukewarm and spotty about this condemnation. A fanbase like his needs to be given explicit guidance and boundaries for the numerous things they do in his defense- harrassing/doxing antis, harrassing people who criticize him who aren’t antis (respectful criticism, other CCs, other MCYT stans, etc.), harrassing the people he critcizes (i.e., HBomb), speculating about his personal life (his relationship with his gf, his mental health/ADHD, his romantic life, his childhood, etc.), and speculating about his relationships with his friends and colleagues.  My personal ideology is that, if you have significant influence over someone or a group of people, you are at least somewhat responsible for the things those people do or don’t do, if it at all relates back to you. I’m so fucking tired of the argument that CCs aren’t responsible for what their fans do. Obviously they aren’t responsible for every single one of their fans, and obviously they can’t fully control their fans at the end of the day. But I think there are certain things that reach such a level of extremity that does make those CCs responsible. This can be measured by either scale or intensity; that is to say, if a CC’s fanbase does things on an extremely large scale, or one person from/a fraction of the fanbase does something really extreme, then the CC is made all the more responsible. Another CC I’ve always had trouble discussing with other people on this subject is Pewdiepie, in particular, about the extremists in his fanbase. Because the things a small handful of his fans have done in reference to him and/or in his name were so fucking extreme, I thought Pewdiepie had to take at least some responsibilty. Along a similar vein, because the things Dream’s general fanbase does are so widespread and on such a massive scale, Dream has to take at least some responsibility.

Fifth, okay. Hmmm. I want to tackle this point you made about the ableism he faces in some criticism of him carefully and with empathy, but not coddling. One, I do think a lot of the criticism he receives for the ways he handles criticism (post-cheating Tweets, reactions to John Swan, post-MCC HBomb stream, etc.), disregard his RSD and can be oftentimes ableist. I’ve actually encountered people irl who criticize this aspect of Dream’s character, and have had to explain to them their disregard for how ADHD/RSD affect neurodivergent people’s reactions to criticism. But - and this is a big, and very controversial but - I think mentally ill/disordered people can 100% leverage their mental illness/disorders for the sake of manipulation. This is actually something I’ve learned from a psychiatrist, regarding the ways people I know and I handle our anxiety and depression. This manipulation can be unwitting or intentional, but it is entirely possible, and the possibility shouldn’t be entirely dismissed as ableist. Living with a mental illness or disorder that others know about/that you are very public about puts you in an interesting position to receive frequent sympathy, empathy, and/or pity. I’m not saying that empathy for Dream having ADHD/RSD is entirely unjustified; on the contrary, I have frequently expressed how I can relate to his ADHD symptoms and have defended him for expressing those symptoms, both on mcytblr and in real life. I am saying that Dream fans tend to use his ADHD as a kind of shield for a lot of criticism levied against him, including the supposition that he could be manipulating his fanbase to defend him because of his public expressions of RSD. So yes, my theory is that Dream knows how to levy every aspect of his life for his personal gain and for the growth of his brand, and that includes his ADHD. I think he has courage for his openess about his ADHD, I think his openness has contributed to the rise in awareness of mental health and empathy for neurodivergent people within Gen Z, and I think at least some of his expressions of RSD publicly/online weren’t intentionally made public. All that being said, I also think he has to know just how much his fanbase cares about defending him for his ADHD, and I think he has to know that some of the things he does related to his neurodivergence endear him to his audience, in a coddling, baby-ing, mildly ableist sorta way.  Maybe this is all incredibly presumptuous of me. Of course, I can never know the real intentions behind any Dream video, Tweet, or stream. Maybe I’m just projecting, because I can see myself doing just this, if I had the maturity I had circa 2018-2019. Idfk know, man.

Sixth, I actually agree with you here, people probably do get more mad at his fanbase than him. Dream puts out content pretty seldomly, considering the frequency of content output for other Youtubers/streamers in his field/at his brand size. And yet, he has received masses of criticism. Considering that the things Dream himself does/says do not entirely correlate with the amount of criticism he receives, I think it’s a logical assumption that a lot of that criticism actually goes back to the size of his presence online, rather than the man himself. That is to say, because of the massive community he’s amassed, the exponential growth of his fanbase, their presence on every single social media site and in virtually every single Internet space/fandom, and the size of his metaphysical presence in his fields, Dream is much bigger than the man himself, so the criticism he receives will, at least in part, be a direct or indirect result of all these other aspects of the Dream brand.  Something I don’t think many Dream fans/stans, or even most MCYT fans in general, understand, is that Dream isn’t just “one guy” in the eyes of the Internet- at least, not anymore. He hasn’t been for nearly a year. Like Pewdiepie, Mr. Beast, and other CCs who have amassed similar levels of fame and wealth via Internet content creation, Dream is a brand now, and most people will treat him as such. He isn’t just some uwu soft boy playing Minecraft anymore. He is on a whole other level from any other MCYT in his friend circle or colleague interaction bubble. His words will never again live in a vaccum or private bubble, his friend circle will never again be under anything less than intense scrutiny, his past actions will never again be simple mistakes or silly errors, his words will never again be casual tweets or streams for laughs among a couple thousand followers. Dream’s name represents something much bigger than just the one man. As such, all aspects of his brand, including his fanbase, will tie back to him and, ultimately, to any general criticism of him.

I’m not saying I like any of this, and I actually think the evolution of influencers from people to a marketable brand with similar mechanisms, responsibilities, and liabilities as a corporation is some kind of late capitalism nightmare fuel; I’m just stating my own observations and theories as to why so much anti-Dream criticism seems to be directed at his fanbase, rather than him.

Seventh, he’s just a guy, you’re right, but I think a lot of the antis on Tumblr understand this more than you know. As I’ve seen it, the sentiment among much of the “DSMP stans DNI” crowd seems to be that of “Dream/other MCYTs are such ‘bad’ people, so why do their fans stick to these mediocre, racist men, when there are so many better people to watch/better content to consume?” We know this argument is flawed for many of the obvious reasons - the conflation of all MCYTs’ actions regardless of individual identity, the equating of a CC’s fanbase’s morality to that of the CC they enjoy watching, the exxageration of any error MCYT CCs have committed as bigotry/racism, the fundamental misunderstanding and misinformation that led antis to believe this exxageration of the facts, etc. But I want to focus on the general, underlying sentiment of, “why not watch someone better, when your creator is problematic?” Sometimes, I ask this of Dream stans. Yes, being mildly ignorant, getting involved in the scandals Dream has, and being a right-leaning/libertarian centrist in the recent past all seem like harmless things, all things considered. One could say Dream isn’t nearly as bad as many antis who are misinformed seem to believe, and that there are much worse CCs Dream stans could be watching and creating fan content for. But I think what Tumblr antis wonder is, aren’t there also much better MCYTs/CCs people could be watching and stanning? Because he’s just some guy, right? Is his content truly so exceptional or is he really so exceptional a person, that people have to stick by him, despite the things that spike up regarding his current or past actions? I think that’s what made me finally decide to stop watching Dream. I realized he was just Some Guy. The Dream Team was a comforting dynamic to indulge in, DNF was a cute ship to read and speculate about, and Manhunts were fun videos to watch; however, once the Reddit posts came out and I read them in-depth, the cost-benefit analysis tipped over to the “not worth it” side for me. I realized Dream’s content, while fun and comforting, was not entirely unique, and wasn’t worth sticking around for, given what I then knew about his past political leanings. If he is just Some Guy, then there are a hundred more like him out there. There a hundred more ships, a hundred more found family dynamics, a hundred more entertaining and skilled Minecraft players. So while I agree with you on the point of people being allowed to love him regardless because he is just a guy, at the end of the day, I think that, if we are to believe that sentiment or use that argument in such a manner, we should also understand the flip side- that, if he is just some guy, why is it worth sticking around? To that I say, maybe because people just enjoy the simple things they enjoy.

Anyways, I wholly agree with your tl;dr. Thanks for that insanely long ask, this was a fun thing to keep me occupied while I’ve been at work, facilitating Zoom sessions this whole morning.

[holdharmonysacred]

Every now and then I remember FE3H’s DLC books talking about the church’s tech bans and I get irrationally angry because it’s one of the game’s worst cases of Show Don’t Tell compounded by fantasy media as a whole taking anachronistic tech for granted. It’s like if a video game tried to have a whole sidequest about introducing potatoes to the kingdom via a fantasy columbian exchange, but everyone in the game up to that point was ALREADY cooking and selling potatoes constantly as if they were already a native crop, so why is the sidequest introducing this crop they already had as if they were new???????

Like the fucking. printing press ban. The game tries to make it like the Seiros Church banned printing presses (because the IRL Catholic Church did that and therefore we must make OUR fantasy church do that even if it doesn’t make sense!), but the problem is NONE OF THE REST OF THE GAME is written as if printing presses were banned. Books at the monastery are taken for granted, literally Everyone at the school has them, Seteth publishes children’s books for funsies, the library gives no fucks if you borrow their books and lose them, books are just common and easily makeable and replaceable in a way that only makes sense if they have printing press technology. This shit doesn’t happen in manuscript cultures - monks had to write and copy every individual manuscript BY HAND, there was an entire CULTURE of prayers and curses meant to prevent handwriting errors and book theft because one little fuckup could mean that that text is LITERALLY ruined forever. Manuscripts and books before the printing press were EXTREMELY valuable, and literally NO ONE in the game should be as casual about them as they are if printing presses are banned. The level of difference here is the loss of a printed translation of Beowulf VS the loss of the original manuscript book that our source text for Beowulf was in.

And normally this would be FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s FINE if fantasy media does this!!!!!!!!!!!! Normally it wouldn’t matter that they’re not being accurate about goddamn books. The problem is that the game SPECIFICALLY makes it a point that printing presses are banned and draws attention to how books in Fodlan are made and distributed. It’s a wink and nudge of “Hey, the Church is terrible about books, you should pay attention” that just completely falls flat because NOTHING in the worldbuilding we see actually supports it. Nobody behaves like they’re in a word where printing presses are banned, and the writers have done nothing to build the world in such a way as to support the apparent canon of “printing presses are banned”. It’s like the potatoes problem - the hypothetical example I mentioned TRIES to be clever and make a point that Fantasy Europe could only get potatoes through a Fantasy Columbian Exchange because IRL potatoes are only native to the Americas, not Europe, but it’s ruined because the word of the game just isn’t built to support potatoes actually being a new, non-native crop in Fantasy Europe. The lack of payoff for this reveal is just adding insult to injury, the game just goes “hey, the Church is doing Crimes” and does NOTHING with that new information, and confronting the Church about tech issues is never an issue anywhere else in the game, so again, why?????? And it’d be so easy to fix too by just adding an in-game explanation from someone that the Seiros Church USED to hold these bans, but they’ve been repealed or ignored and unenforced for years, there you go, now the game doesn’t look stupid.

It’s lazy and bad worldbuilding in a game full of lazy and bad worldbuilding. The devs clearly wanted to be clever and do Plot Twists, but made zero effort to integrate those twists into the actual world of the game, and it drives me out of my mind because the game could be so GOOD if they actually made the effort!!!!! They could actually DO THINGS with the twists they introduce!!!!! But they don’t. And it’s maddening when it comes to smaller stuff like this, but it gets even worse when it happens to actually plot relevant worldbuilding, like how nobody in the game gives a shit that the Heroes’ Relics are blatantly made from the bones of a genocided race. God damn.

[synonymroll648]

You can’t just provide us with a concept as wonderful as Biana finding Sophie au and then just leave. (exaggeration) I beg of you, do you have more ideas for this wonderful concept? What is Fitz’s relationship with Sophie now that he’s only met her in the elven world? Does being around her stress him out at all since he had to spend so long looking for her?

anon, i have so many ideas for this au. thank you for asking :D and also sorry this took so long to write lol. putting my real response to this under the cut ‘cause it’s a lot of words XD

so! the reasoning behind why fitz dropped out of the search is important to this au because it shapes his character and his family’s characters a bit. i said mental health issues, but i was mostly thinking “pressure from the search + pressure from the public + pressure from his parents + pressure from himself = severe mental health issues like really bad anxiety and depression due to gifted kid burnout and paranoia from the search”. and fitz is not the type to quit anything serious easily, so when i say it’s bad, i mean it’s bad. 

bad enough that when he breaks down at the dinner table about how he’s scared of everyone because he doesn’t know what their intentions are and how it’s so easy to be a disappointment and so hard to be someone people can be proud of, della and alden decide keep him from school the next day so he can recover and talk to them about it. and then when they hear about how he’s been having extreme thought spirals daily and anxiety attacks left and right at the littlest things, they decide “alright, you’re definitely not going into the search ever again, and let’s take the week off from school for now and talk to some people to try and get help.” and then the more fitz explains, the more clear it becomes that it’s gonna take a long time for him to recover enough to be able to be around large amounts of people - especially people he doesn’t know - and be relatively ok. so they decide to pull him out of foxfire too and homeschool him instead. which ends up working way better for him, but there’s still a bunch of horrible rumors that go around about him. which really enforces the whole “people are bad for my mental health” thing for fitz. 

jeez that was a long paragraph, sorry XD if y’all wanna hear how the background keefitz fits into this, send me an ask because i would love to ramble about the boys

moving onto your actual questions! fitz’s relationship with sophie does change, that’s for sure. obviously, it’s platonic instead of romantic in this particular. but that’s definitely not the only change lol. 

instead of being all smooth and going “is this you?” when he first meets her, he has a panic attack because you’re a stranger in my house and nobody gave me a heads up that you would be here WHA- 

when biana explains that sophie’s The Girl, he instantly goes from Panic Mode to Analysis Mode. a lot goes through his brain - ‘this is the girl i broke myself looking for’; ‘will you be worth it?’; etc. - and then he realizes ‘i’m putting the same super high standards on her that people put on me for the same reasons’ and then immediately feels bad. so sophie stresses him out, sometimes makes him feel irrationally angry because of all the things he’s been through that’s tied to her existence in his head, but he shoves it aside because he knows that’s not fair. what he does instead of cry or scream or all the things that Smol Fitz wants to do is offer a bashful smile and his hand and say, “sorry for being weird, i’m just, uh, not really used to seeing new people. i’m fitz.” maybe he says he was the one on the search before biana then, maybe he says it later, it doesn’t matter too much unless this actually gets turned into a fic lol. 

things aren’t negative between them, per say, but they’re awkward. fitz and sophie are both horrible at socializing, so they kinda just wave at each other when they see one another and give polite smiles, and then move on with their days because they don’t know what else to do. they both want to learn more about each other, but they don’t really know how to approach each other. 

and then one quiet day at everglen fitz hears someone sobbing down the hall. when he checks it out, it’s sophie curled up on a bench with ella. he does what keefe does with him when keefe walks in on a breakdown; he asks, “do you want to talk about it?” 

sophie immediately tries to shut down the waterworks, but fitz is like “i’m not judging you whether or not you ask for a hug or to talk or for me to leave because i do all of those depending on what day it is.” and when sophie looks up at him, she can tell he means it. so she asks to talk about it first. so she tells him about how she misses her family and she hates that she was finally comfortable, being at college and not being judged for straight a’s and having people look out for her and she was so close to being a forensic science major (i say this specifically because she deserves to have good death threats up her sleeves. as a treat.) then boom, that got ripped away from her and now she’s a dropout, which is just so not her and she hates it. 

surprisingly enough, fitz is absolutely delighted to hear this. not because he’s a sadist, but because he’s finally met someone who understands how hard it was to go from top of the grade to a dropout in a matter of days. so fitz shares his experiences in that area, and they finally, finally click. 

from there on, things are smoother. there are still rocky points (cough cough fitz opening up about the search and/or admitting that there are moments when he kinda hates sophie because of it and sophie feeling guilty and/or upset cough cough) but for the most part, they’re good. they learn (relearn, in fitz’s case) how to socialize from interacting with each other. and yeah, they end up picking up things that aren’t quite accurate and earn confused stares when they try it with other people, but that’s ok. they understand each other on their own unique wavelength, and they both treasure the unique bond they have. 

the tl;dr of the previous paragraph is just that sophie and fitz are unofficial cognates/queerplatonic partners and somehow it works better than their relationship in canon

if you made it to the end of this, congrats XD also if anybody wants to ask more about this au i’d love to talk about it!! thanks again for asking, anon :D

[tardis-stowaway]

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong. 

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look  to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more  paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

[enragedbisexual]

promise me you’ll hold my hand if i get scared now

marianat; a lil bit angsty but also fluff + a happy ending so

also on ao3

They were standing in Natasha’s room, and Natasha was sitting with her legs criss-cross applesauce on her bed. Her back was pressed against two foam pillows, and she was fidgeting idly with her navy blue sheets. A couple feet in front of her, Maria sat on the black leather footstool which occupied the space at the edge of her friend’s bed. She looked so much smaller than usual, and ten times more nervous than she would dare allow herself to look in front of her SHIELD colleagues.

Maria, as it turns out, had fairly reasonable grounds to be nervous. Natasha has just finished venting about her past, nothing Maria hadn’t heard before (but nothing she minded listening to again, of course.) Natasha talked about the red room, about hating how much she still remembered. She talked about how she hated, equally, those memories that seemed to have disappeared or turned foggy, even if that was her brain’s way of coping with the trauma. She didn’t like it, didn’t like feeling out of control in her own head. Maria listened, and she felt a deep sorrow in her chest, just like always. Nobody enjoys hearing about their loved ones being hurt, especially when you’re Maria Hill and you can’t help thinking, however irrationally, that you should have prevented all of this, somehow.

Except, things took a bit of a turn when Natasha spiraled into some kind of self deprecating tornado. She went from being angry and disgusted with her tormentors, to directing all of that outrage towards herself. Maria didn’t really know where it was coming from, but she knew she hated it. She knew she hated it, and she knew that, in this moment, caution was up against passion in the boxing ring inside her head, and she knew it was a losing battle. She could not be held legally responsible for whatever was about to come out of her mouth, Maria thought, almost with a giggle, and then things got ... real.

“Not to sound gag-inducingly sappy or anything,” Maria ceded, “but you’re literally the bravest, kindest, most selfless person I know. I’ve pretty much been in love with you since the day we met. So I’m not exactly buying into all this ‘I’m unlovable,’ nonsense, Natasha.”

She had declared everything with an air of nonchalance, had even finished off her sentiments with an eye roll. But her words weren’t sarcastic, or bitter. It was more like, Here I am, stating the obvious, I can’t believe I have to do this.

Natasha didn’t process the compliment, the reassurance, at least not right away. She heard the sounds falling from Maria’s lips, sure, but what exactly did those sounds mean all put together like that? It didn’t immediately sink in. And when the words did begin to register, really register, Natasha felt like the entire ocean was rushing in her ears. Felt like pacific waves were rendering her speechless, because she was just so, so wildly confused and—and, honored? and ... excited? She had too many questions and not nearly enough brain power, at the moment, to deal with them all. Did Maria mean it, like that? Was she serious, about loving her—or, actually, being in love with her? Natasha didn’t understand. They had been close for a long time now, and they had said “I love you,” as well as every other variation of the phrase, thousands of times. But not like this. Never like this.

After what felt—to Maria, in particular—like an eternity, Natasha finally spoke. “You mean it?”

Maria looked like she could’ve laughed. She didn’t, but the reflexive instinct to do so was clearly discernible on her face. “What do you mean, do I mean it?” she asked instead, the tiniest hint of frustration in her voice. “Of course I mean it.”

A momentary pause fell over the room. And then, the frustration was gone, and replaced with something a little more heartbreaking. Maria sounded so broken, like she might crumple into a hundred little pieces if she said anything else. Her voice began to shake—the tremor only slight, but enough to make her face start blushing red—and then she continued, “I don’t ever not mean things when it comes to you, Tasha, you know that.”

Natasha felt a pang of guilt, at the very bottom of her stomach. She did know. Maybe she knew all along, about everything, and she just didn’t know what to do. She had all these insecurities and regrets and she couldn’t work through everything and also fall in love at the same time; it was too much. Now, it seems, she had lost the luxury of a choice. Time had snuck up on her, which, honestly? was a little embarrassing. She was a highly skilled, crime fighting spy, after all. And Natasha didn’t enjoy being bested.

“Natasha,” Maria said in a sing-song voice. “Uh hello? Are you okay? You’re doing that thing where your brain is firing a million thoughts a minute but you aren’t telling me anything. What’s going on up there? Hm?”

Natasha regained control of the furious storm that her mind had become, if only for the moment. “I’m sorry, lyubimaya, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I let this happen.”

Maria scrunched up her face, narrowing her eyes in bewilderment, frowning. She shook her head, trying to make sense of what the other woman was saying, as if she could jumble some things around up there and suddenly she would be hit with an epiphany. And when this, to Maria’s great disappointment, did not work, she decided to just get it all over with, to get to the bottom of whatever Natasha was feeling.

“You’re sorry? What on earth are you sorry for, Tasha?” she asked. And before Natasha could answer, she interjected with one more thing. “I think you forgot that I don’t speak Russian?” she half stated, half questioned. “But um, I’ll just go ahead and assume that you called me something sweet and not like, ‘I’m sorry, dumbass,’ or something.”

That made Natasha smile, which in turn made Maria smile, and suddenly the tension lifted like the curtain before a big show and they were just two people, grinning like idiots and trying to figure out what happens now.

Maria broke the silence. “Natasha, hey, I’m serious. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. And I’m not just saying that to spare your feelings or be gentle or whatever, I mean like, not even remotely do you have a reason in the world to be telling me you’re sorry.”

“But I-“ Natasha tried to interrupt, and then Maria just looked at her with her eyebrows raised, as if to say You aren’t going to let me finish? So, Natasha yielded; she did want to see where this was going, she supposed.

“I knew that you knew. It’s okay, yeah? I didn’t expect anything. It’s not your fault. I was, I am—I am perfectly happy to just keep loving you and for that to be it. I’m lucky just to know you, you know. You don’t owe me anything. Everything is okay, I promise.” Maria was looking down, at her hands, but she looked up on that last word, gave Natasha a soft smile. Natasha was looking right at her, had been the whole time, a little teary-eyed. “If anything, I’m sorry,” Maria emphasized, “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just hate when you say those crazy things about yourself. I just wanted you to know, I needed you to know, I guess.”

Natasha had practically been hanging on every word, so desperate to understand, and longing, even more so, to make Maria understand. “Hill. Look at me,” Natasha said, and the words were certainly serious, but she wasn’t being demanding, or snappy. She just wanted to be looking at Maria, really looking at her, if she was going to tell her the truth.

Maria lifted her head up to look Natasha in the eyes, a faint smirk on her face. “I’m looking,” she retorted, a teasing tone in her voice.

Natasha chuckled at that, for a moment, and then she began, “‘Darling.’ That’s what it means.”

When it didn’t seem like Maria grasped what she was referencing, Natasha continued. “‘Lyubimaya.’ the name I called you. It means ‘darling,’” she clarified. “It doesn’t mean ‘dumbass,’ or anything close, I swear! You can look it up yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you,” Maria said, half-laughing. “I’ve heard you swear at plenty of people in Russian, and none of it ever sounded like that.”

Natasha laughed with her, and blushed just a little bit, which Maria found wildly endearing—odd, but endearing nonetheless.

“What I’m really trying to say in all this is,” Natasha started, “I ... well I don’t know if I can say it. The ‘L word,’ that is, at this exact moment. But I’m not, not? feeling that way, if that makes sense? I don’t know if that’s enough, or if it’s what you wanted to hear, and I really, really don’t want to hurt you, ever. It’s just, these things that I thought I put behind me are suddenly right in front of me, plain as day, and so, well, that’s been taking a toll, I guess. The job is just a lot, sometimes, and I mean, I know you know that, so I don’t really know why I’m telling you all this like it’s new information.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I want you to know that I care about you just as much as you care about me, if not more, and I don’t want you moping around ever again thinking anything else.”

Maria had been looking like she was holding her breath for the entirety of that confession, and when Natasha stopped talking, there was a long pause. It wasn’t uncomfortable; Maria just needed a second to digest everything, and Natasha knew that, so she didn’t pester her or unload another batch of revelatory thoughts on her. She let her breathe.

“Just to be clear, I do not ‘mope.’” Maria insisted. The lighthearted inflection in her voice allowed Natasha to finally let her guard down. She unclenched her jaw, relaxed her shoulders—all things she hadn’t even really noticed she’d been doing—as Maria arrived at her next point. “And listen, I didn’t want to hear anything, remember? I don’t want you to think that I expected, or felt entitled to, anything. What you’re saying is enough, everything you say is always enough. And, if I’m being honest, I’m having a hard time believing that you actually said what you just said, and that this isn’t like, a dream or something. All this time I thought I was kidding myself, you know? Like you said, I do know all that, about the job, about you. I didn’t want to pile on. I wanted to be a safe place, not another weight on your shoulders.”

At this point, Natasha moved her body forward from where she had been leaning against the pillows, so she could be close enough to Maria to touch her. She laid her right hand over Maria’s hands, which were clasped together in her lap. “Hey, you’re not weighing me down at all, Maria, you’re not. You’re the safest place I’ve ever been. I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed in the morning if it weren’t for you. You do realize that, hm?”

Maria just stared at her. She started to open her mouth to say no, but Natasha wasn’t having any of that. She leaned in and kissed Maria, as gentle as soft sheets on cool skin, and when she pulled away, she brought her hand up from Maria’s lap to brush her cheek ever so lightly with the pad of her thumb.

“Um ... do you realize it now?” Natasha was looking at Maria, who was thinking that Natasha looked so modest and unassuming in that moment, more so than Maria has ever seen her look. Even the way she asked, it was so fragile, like a seventh grade girl taking a chance with a crush and being absolutely terrified of the rejection that could follow.

Maria couldn’t bear the thought of Natasha even so much as thinking, for a split second, that she would be rejected. “Yeah, I do,” she answered. “I’m realizing a lot of things, in fact.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. like, I just realized that Fury’s gonna have an absolute field day when he finds out about this. He always seemed to know what was going on, with us I mean.”

“I’m not surprised; a rock with a face painted on it probably could’ve figured this out before us, Maria.”

“Hey!” Maria exclaimed, her voice suddenly high-pitched. “We did a perfectly fine job here, with all this. Now, kiss me and tell me I’m right, or I’m telling Fury how you completely brushed off his prediction skills.”

“So that’s how things are gonna work now, isn’t it?” Natasha said, grinning. Maria hummed in agreement, and Natasha wasted no time fulfilling Maria’s request.

[specialagentrin]

Day 7 – On the seventh day of Christmas, Wincestmas gave to me: the second part of the fluffy fairy tale AU

Warnings: Underage, Fairy Tale AU

Dean smiled at Sam and Sam’s stomach filled with butterflies. How could a boy be so handsome and stir such intense feelings inside him? Sam remained in silence then, just looking at Dean.

“Wanna eat something?” He got up, stretching, his shirt ridding up, showing Sam a bit of the bony hips the boy had. Sam nodded, unable to speak.

Dean prepared some eggs for them, and when they sat down to eat, Sam couldn’t help but ask him things to get to know him better.

“Where’s your dad?” Dean laughed at that, and he shook his head.

“Cas isn’t my dad. My parents passed away when I was very young, so he took me in. He used to be a monk in the kingdom, but after he adopted me, he decided to come live here, so he’d have more time to care for me.” Dean explained, blushing a little when he noticed he was dumping all this information on the boy he met barely twelve hours ago. “I mean… I don’t call him dad, but I guess he kinda is?” Dean frowned and then sighed, annoyed with himself. “He’s usually an early bird, but he might be sleeping still. Yesterday was very taxing on him.”

Sam nodded, smiling sweetly at the boy. It was nice to have someone his age to talk to, and apparently it was the same for Dean.

“How old are you?” Sam asked next. He could tell Dean was a bit older, but he didn’t know how much older.

“Twenty.” Sam gaped at that. Dean was much older than he expected. He guessed that it was probably due to the fact that Dean was too thin, probably even underweight, but he had a spark in his eyes that made him look much younger. “You?”

“Sixteen.” Sam pouted. He knew it was only a matter of time for him to grow older, to probably marry a princess and then rule the kingdom, but being considered a child was something he loathed. He wanted to be respected as the young prince that he was, and not as just another spoiled brat – although, here he was, in the middle of the woods, in the house of some strangers. Maybe his family were right in treating him as a child – but that didn’t mean he was going to change.

“Any big plans for when you come of age?” Dean asked and Sam sighed. Technically, his parents had big plans for him – for his whole life. Sam, on the other hand, had no plans, so he shook his head. “Are you of royal blood? You could try becoming a knight!” Dean added, enthusiastically.

“How… How do you know—” Sam spoke, eyes widening. Had the boy found out he was the prince?

“Your clothes. They are from a very fine fabric, so I guessed. Sorry.” Sam shook his head, cursing himself internally for not realising that.

“It’s okay. Yeah, I’ll start the training to become a knight once I turn eighteen.” That was actually a lie. As the prince, he had started training since he was thirteen, but Sam didn’t want Dean to know he was the prince for some reason – maybe he worried that Dean would treat him differently if he knew, or, a more obscure thought occurred to him, Dean might not fancy him.

“That’s awesome!” Dean said, enthusiastic smile coming back at full force. “I’ve always wanted to be a knight.” He commented a little sadly, but his smile was still in place.

“Oh?” That was unexpected. Sam wondered why anyone would want to be a knight – and maybe die to protect the King, Queen and Prince. “Why don’t you come back with me, then?” Dean’s eyes widened and he chuckled a bit nervously.

“My parents were nobodies. I can’t even apply to be a knight. Not to mention that I don’t have any skill useful to be a knight. I don’t even know the names of the parts of the armour.” Dean rambled and Sam couldn’t help but giggle, which made Dean pout. “What? I’ve lived my whole life here. I can’t be a knight.”

“What if I told you,” Sam started, mischievous smile on his face, “that I can help you? I know the royal family. I’m sure I could put in a word that you’re someone worthy enough to be a knight.” Sam was sure that, once his family knew that this boy had gone into the rain to help him, they would instantly invite him to be a knight, so it wouldn’t be such hardship.

“I…” Dean frowned, considering, probably wondering if Sam was speaking the truth. “Truly?”

“Yes!” Sam nodded, smiling widely, making Dean blush in the process – and wasn’t he even more gorgeous with a blush on his face? “Besides, it would be nice having someone to hang out sometimes. And when I start my training, you can help me out too.” Sam knew that he’d probably have to tell Dean he was the prince before that, but for now, he chose to keep this secret.

“Thank you. I…” Dean was speechless, and that made Sam even happier, the butterflies in his stomach dancing around – and by the Gods, he was completely besotted with this boy. “Thank you.” Dean said again, smile the brightest Sam had seen so far, and he couldn’t help but feel accomplished to have made Dean this happy.

“So… What do you do for fun?”

Sam helped Dean clean the kitchen and then they sat down on the sofa, each with a book in hand. Dean had few books – he had said he had read them multiple times already, but it wasn’t like he could buy new ones. Sam was surprised Dean could read – many peasants didn’t know how, but Castiel, who had been a monk, knew how to read and write and taught Dean.

They spent a couple of hours reading, the rain falling even harder outside. Dean then decided to prepare lunch, since Castiel hadn’t risen yet, and Sam pretended to continue reading as he watched Dean cook, humming a soft song under his breath.

Sam wondered what could happen if he decided to stay here.

His parents would freak out, of course, but now that he had met Dean, he knew that it would be impossible for him to marry a princess. He knew he only knew Dean for less than a day, but he was already in love, and he wouldn’t let anyone dictate his life.

However, not going back meant that Dean wouldn’t be able to become a knight, and Sam had promised him that he’d help him become one.

Sam decided that, when it stopped raining, he’d make his decision. For now, he’d enjoy this beautiful boy as much as he could.

Castiel came out of his room as Dean was setting the table, and they ate together, Dean guiding the conversation, talking about the book he was rereading for the twentieth time – one of his favourites, but he didn’t read as often because he enjoyed forgetting some parts and then being able to get surprised all over again. Sam promised to himself that, if they did go back to the kingdom, Sam would give Dean all the books he wanted.

“Oh! And Sam told me he can help me become a knight!” Dean said enthusiastically, and Castiel’s eyes widened for a second before darkening. He looked at Dean with reprimanding eyes and Sam felt a knot in his throat, suddenly anxious.

“You know you’re not allowed to go to the kingdom.” Dean lowered his head, frowning a little. “You can’t be a knight and you’ll only be a problem for Sam if you go.” Sam was ready to defend Dean, to tell Castiel that it would be okay, but the older man hadn’t finished speaking. “You’re forbidden to go. In fact, once it stops raining, I’ll be the one to take Sam back. I need you here.”

“Yeah, sir.” Dean said, not looking up from his plate. He finished eating in silence and then started cleaning the dishes. Castiel continued eating and Sam, feeling irrationally angry, forced himself to finish – he couldn’t throw these people’s food away when they already had so little.

But once Dean was over, he went back to his room. Sam followed suit, not waiting for an invitation.

He tried to convince Dean of going anyway, but Dean wouldn’t have any of it. They sat on the bed together, Dean looking at his hands and Sam looking at Dean. Sam wanted to stay, and that was one more reason to do so.

However, he hated when adults tried controlling their children’s lives, and he made up his mind: He’d find a way of taking Dean with him back to the kingdom and make him a knight, even if it was the last thing he could do.

Sam couldn’t sleep that night. Dean had gone to the sofa to sleep, but Sam felt guilty for the day’s events. He sighed and tossed and turned on the bed, until he realised it had stopped raining. Standing up, Sam went to the window, opening it enough to check that yes, it had indeed stopped raining.

Slowly, and as quietly as he could, Sam made his way to the living room. Dean was asleep in the same position as he found him the day before, and Sam had to take a moment to admire the boy. It was highly unfair for someone to be this beautiful, though Sam had been lucky enough to have met him and seen him.

After saving the memory of Dean’s body, Sam kneeled next to him and shook his shoulder softly.

“Dean?” Dean frowned before blinking his eyes open. He looked at Sam and smiled, eyes already closing again. “Hey, wake up.” Dean’s eyes shot open then and he almost fell out of the sofa as he tried to stand up.

“What—” Sam could see that Dean was blushing and he smirked to himself at the thought that it was him that made him so embarrassed – so maybe Dean fancied Sam just as much as Sam fancied Dean.

“Come to the kingdom with me. Castiel is asleep.” Dean seemed to still be grasping what was reality and what was a dream, and he looked around before settling his eyes on Sam, sitting properly on the sofa. Sam sat beside him, eyes conveying all his yearning for the boy to come along.

“Sorry, Sammy, but I can’t.” Sam felt his heart skip a beat by being called Sammy. He had been called that growing up by his parents, but ever since he hit puberty, he had loathed that nickname. But Dean saying it sounded right, and he didn’t have the urge to tell him he shouldn’t be calling him that.

“Why not?” Dean just looked at him, looking miserable, and Sam turned on his side, getting closer to Dean. “You told me it was your dream to be a knight. Are you really going to let Castiel dictate your life? You’re an adult, you should do what makes you happy. And I can help.” Sam hesitated for a moment before adding, “Besides, we’ll keep in touch if you come with me.”

“I… Sammy… Castiel has taken care of me my entire life. I don’t want to be ungrateful. He said he needed me here, so I have to stay.” Sam was saddened by that. He already disliked when adults did that, but it seemed like Castiel was trying to guilt trip Dean into staying.

“I understand, but he’s an adult too. Shouldn’t he be able to live his life on his own? And when will you start living yours?” Dean looked at him, a hint of hope in his eyes, and Sam grabbed both of Dean’s hands. “Go back with me.”

Dean looked at their joined hands for a long moment, then to Castiel’s closed door. Sam could tell that going went against everything Dean believed, but the boy wanted to follow his dream, and he wanted to go with Sam.

After a moment, Dean nodded, looking at Sam with determination, a smile appearing.

“Alright. We should go, then. We can reach the kingdom by sundown.” Sam had to hold himself back, because the urge to kiss this wonderful boy was driving him insane. Maybe he’d be bold enough to kiss Dean one day, if he was sure the boy also wanted it. But for now, he was happy – he’d have Dean as a friend and a knight.

To be continued…

-----

GASP! OH MY IRENE, CASTIEL! YOU JUST DID A WHOLE 360 ON ME ARE YOU SERIOUS??? AND THE TWO OF THEM LOVE EACH OTHER, YOU COULD PRATICALLY FEEL ITTTT!!!! BESIDES THE POINT -- I LOVE THIS SO SO SO MUCH!!!! THANK YOU ALOT! YOU MAKE ME THE HAPPIEST PERSON IN THE UNIVERSEEEEEE

[firebirdsdaughter]

01 made sure that I don't care one bit about characters that don't give a single f*ck about a traumatized victim of decade long abused. Horobi had nobody caring about him all this time, his own son offered him on a silver platter to the Ark, Aruto thinks yelling at him to snap out of the hacking will do. And then Aruto is sad over his pet AI being stupid and suddenly everyone is up in arms and ready to jump in and help him cheer up again. Give me a break.

… I will forever keep pre-ep 42 Fuwa safely in my heart. That guy out there isn’t my Fuwa. My Fuwa is safe. -_-

It’s very… Questionable.

Like. If anyone had tried to do anything help Horobi earlier, we wouldn’t be in this situation. It’d be so much less messy and destructive. It’d’ve been actual work, but, like. It would have literally been easier.

I’ve said before that I feel like they switched the cores of Horobi and Gai’s stories, and I super still feel that. Esp given the loss of episodes, they really should have stuck w/ having the Ark as the final villain, maybe have her take over Gai forcibly, I dunno. Maybe have Gai cause the situation? I know the point they’re trying to go for is that ‘HumaGear/AI can do bad to!’ (maybe?), but we had that w/ the Ark. Like… They could absolutely still have done Horobi struggling w/ getting free, him still having resentment towards humans, but having humans reach out and help him, prove their goodness by taking the time to reach out to the biggest victim who has been the most consumed by the Ark’s influence. Like, Horobi did wrong things under the Ark’s control. He’s been completely under her control and influence for decades. Like I just ranted about, he’s been conditioned, he literally doesn’t know how to handle emotions, or even what morals are. But humans should know better, esp ones who allegedly work w/ AI. Them defying the Ark’s claims and doctrine by reaching out to him and helping him, despite everything, would have been a great moment.

Like… I do understand Aruto being super upset about what happened. Despite the issues I have w/ how it was presented, he and Izu were close. Of course he’d be mad. What bothers me is the attitude that he’s the only victim who is behaving irrationally bc of grief and pain. The way all the stops are getting pulled out to ‘save him.’ I’d feel a lot more sympathetic towards him if I felt like they were recognising Horobi’s mental state at the same time. Like I went to in my giant ramble, Horobi didn’t seek out Izu and gun for her, she sought him out when he was already volatile and in an extremely high intensity situation, which had already been escalated (by humans), and continued pressuring him until he snapped.

Aruto being upset about her death is one thing. Like… Okay. They were close. I do give that. It’s the attitude that only Aruto is the tragic one here. This should at the least be treated as a double tragedy.

That’s why Raiden going to Horobi, however I think he went about it in a not really great way, was really powerful, esp compared w/ a lot of… Other out of character behaviour we saw in the ep.

Like. Just imagine if we’d had Fuwa recognising that his aggressive behaviour played a part in this (while I do have to admit that, after Okada’s explanation and seeing a more direct translation, it feels more like a blunder Fuwa would make if confronted w/ that situation, the fact that he was the only one Horobi asked, making it clear Horobi wanted to hear his answer, bc Horobi doesn’t ask, last him he did, he got tortured, only to be told ‘I’m here to destroy you’… Fuwa may not have meant it that way, but Horobi was not in a state where he’d be able to understand the nuance, and that def contributed to over-stressing him and then Izu’s pushing put him over the edge much easier), him recognising that and then trying to at least partially make it right, take a different approach, go to Horobi and try to back Raiden up on stuff. Like… How cool would that have been? Fuwa getting a moment of realising his reckless, angry, head-on style caused damage and contributed to this situation, so, bc he’s a human who can recognise that, he’s going to go to Horobi and address it. Fuwa allegedly learned that shooting first isn’t the best answer, it would have been really cool and effective to see him trying to take the time to impart that knowledge to someone else, to try and reel back and think and strategise. Maybe he could have tried to confront both of them.

(and then the other part of that scene… Was just… So painfully ooc…)

I mean, I know Aruto is the main character, but there’s a line between ‘this is the main character’ and… This. Like, if there was any clear recognition for Horobi’s suffering at all, this would have a different tone. One person’s suffering doesn’t make another person’s less. They could still focus on how Aruto is hurt while recognising what Horobi went through. But the fact that it’s to the point that they might have (I dunno, I heard this second hand, I don’t have any subs) only started trying to raise Jin to benefit Aruto, rather than focusing through reaching Horobi… Well, if that is the case, it very much gives the air of ‘oh, it’s all fine if we just ‘erase’ the human’s ‘crime!’’ And the idea that that would make Aruto killing Jin and Horobi having to watch him die ‘okay.’ It’s the same as not recognising Gai shooting Naki bc they ‘came back.’ The trauma is still there. Honestly, I half expect, if Izu gets brought back, the people would immediately be like ‘killing Jin (and Naki) wasn’t that bad bc they came back’ would immediately be like ‘oh poor Izu that must have been so traumatising for her.’

Okay, I’m being really harsh, I’m just really frustrated.

I really care about this series. Like, despite the fact that he can’t write character relationship development to save his life, Takahashi makes me fall in love w/ characters like no other. This cast has been such troopers, so stellar. I hold absolutely nothing against any of them. Igeta and Nakayama are legends and I’m proud of them.

I talk shit, but I know it’s just a tv show, I just get very emotional. And the fact is, Horobi (and esp his relationship w/ Fuwa) ended up becoming really important to me over the course of the show. HoroFuwa’s my first real… Well… It’s hard to explain, but they are like. My first ‘official’ otp. I’m not a big shipper, and I’ve struggled w/ the concept of romantic stuff in regards to my own identity in the past, I’ve always had a weird feeling of being ‘ashamed’ for thinking about that stuff. And it was HoroFuwa and a bloody kissing scene I wrote on new years that really just… It meant a lot to me, I feel like I became more comfortable w/ myself bc of them.

Which is totally not what you wanted on your Ask, sorry. ^^; I’m just trying to explain why I, personally, get so riled up. Ultimately, the show owes me nothing, I am nowhere near the target audience. But for someone whose depression often manifests as apathy… When I care, I care. So it’s… It’s been a ride. To say the least.

I’m sorry I went so off topic and personal. ^^’ Y’all didn’t come here for that, I know.