#we deserve some positive fucking rep for once

[chipped-chimera]

Ugh ... I am low-key so worried about how the BG3 ending is gonna play out for Karlach that I'm considering stopping playing and just coming back to it when I can handle it. Some of this shit is just hitting too close to home and I'm not sure I'm cut out for it.

More personal context under the cut if you want.

I relate to Karlach's pain so much. Too much. To the point it makes me teary thinking about it. Both of our lives have been cruel.

It has been hard for me, despite a stable family upbringing that most would envy, in a lower-middle class family that for the large part has been financially stable. I'm also white. I know I'm lucky in that capacity - god I fucking know (and the thought that what I've gone through could be considered a 'lucky' position? What does that mean for others? It keeps me up at night).

But that didn't stop the pain crawling in. I wasn't diagnosed with Autism until 27. I wasn't diagnosed with co-morbid ADHD until I was 28. I wasn't medicated for ADHD until I was 30 (and that was AFTER being told by a psych who also invalidated my Autism diagnosis aka the context for fucking EVERYTHING in my life, I couldn't have ADHD because I could 'read a book').

Before that? I knew I was depressed at 13, but didn't want to burden my family so I did nothing - we may be lower middle class and stable but I knew that was only because my parents tried so fucking hard. We had camping chairs in place of furniture up until I was eight. I lived with the pain because I didn't want to burden them, and without the context of my neurodivergence I just blamed myself for the problem, not being good enough, not trying hard enough - not being ENOUGH. I held onto it until I cracked and couldn't take it anymore at 16. I was diagnosed with Depression and Generalised Anxiety Disorder. It's since been upgraded to chronic Major Depression and it's classed as treatment resistant.

Both of us have had moments of building ourselves up from nothing. Through therapy and medication I was able to feel a bit better, more positive as I left high school. Thinking maybe it was gonna be okay after all, out there in the world.

It felt like I'd slowly reached out into the light, tentatively, hopefully - there'd be something more, that I'd live out the dreams I'd had, the things I'd always wanted to do. I was still optimistic.

Instead it felt like that arm had been immediately lopped off.

The story is long and too complicated to tell without this being longer than it needs to be. But like Karlach, I feel I've lost years of my life. Like Karlach, it's been a decade - ten years. That I cannot get back, that I grieve keenly.

I have been isolated, and then betrayed by those I thought I trusted. First, by the systems that were supposed to help me when I was struggling - my own government's system as they hit me with a debt that I couldn't even pay, on a scheme which has in retrospect been found to be completely illegal, but has left me with lasting trauma and damage and no closure. Not even a sorry. Because I, with my undiagnosed Autism and ADHD and a growing fatigue issue where I was so exhausted from simply being alive I just couldn't fight it. So I let them take money out of my social security payment - which was and still is considered below the poverty line. I was punished for being poor, I was punished for arguably, being disabled.

And then, by the person I trusted most. The person I thought I loved, the person who made it felt like everything was okay - I may be struggling still but there was still a future! There was someone who cared about me, who would be beside me for the rest of my lifetime. He asked me to marry him. We were engaged for three. Years. We'd been dating for 10. I thought everything, despite all the shit happening to me, was going to be okay.

It wasn't.

I had landed some employment for the first time in 3 years. I was working more hours than advised by the psychologist who diagnosed me with Autism but I had no choice - I was literally on the minimum limit available to me, due to the barriers I still have to navigate to qualify for disability supports (again, from a government system that I no longer trusted and gave me the earnest impression that they preferred me dead than 'leeching off their system'). But I was not living. I couldn't handle even 15 hours a week, I was more exhausted than I'd ever been. I felt like a corpse. I spoke with my disability employment coordinator (no, despite what I said, being on disability EMPLOYMENT services does not qualify you getting onto disability support, just means the government will only hound me for a minimum of 15 hrs a week instead of 30 in order for social security, that's a whole other complicated thing) IN CONFIDENCE that I wasn't sure I could keep up with the current work format and hoped I could discuss some solutions. Next minute I find I'm locked out of the work facebook. I was fired, without warning and without protections because I was a casual. Because my employment coordinator told my boss before even discussing anything with me.

My relationship was suffering but I wasn't aware. I was too tired for intimacy, and probably two tired to see the signs. I'd gotten my Autism diagnosis at this point and maybe it was a bit difficult for my fiancée at the time to understand, but he came to terms with it. The ADHD assessment was booked. I had realized at this point pushing myself to be something I wasn't, thinking somehow landing work and earning money for myself would help the depression - it didn't. I was worse than I'd ever been. Then the moment came where I was handed a notice that the government would no longer give me any social security because my partner, on his meager chef's salary was earning too much. All because I'd tried to do the right thing by the government. I'd tried so hard to be good. I'd tried so hard to be ENOUGH.

I wasn't enough.

My fiancée came to me, my fiancée who I'd been talking to about our upcoming wedding plans now the pandemic was over, my fiancée who I'd been cuddling with on the couch last night watching films - he came to me when I was battered, and raw and broken and crying in bed - just said 'I can't do this anymore.' And that was it. It was done. As I processed it, I realised the root of it was, it was because I'd taken the mask off. I decided I wasn't going to try to be something I wasn't anymore, because I knew and it was backed up in countless studies - what I was doing was actively killing me. And he didn't want to deal with that. I wasn't enough, and yet I was too much.

It has been two years since then. My ADHD is medicated. I live in a stable, safe environment with my parents where I don't have to worry about my security. I have set firm boundaries that I learned while I was independent, and they respect them. But the wounds are still deep and it'll take a long time to recover, to get that trust in the world back.

When I look at Karlach, I see some of myself. Someone who has been used, abused and betrayed by those they trusted. Someone who felt abandoned by everything, that there was no hope, no way out. And yet in spite of it all - kept going. Who, deep in their heart kept something soft and safe. Held onto and protected what little shred of optimism left. Because if we don't practice kindness, who will? We want to be the kindness we want to see in the world, because fuck, have we seen so little of it. It is so easy to give up, to fall into despair when you've been through so much shit. It requires so much vigilance and energy and momentum to keep going, when you're wading through a battlefield of carnage and gore in your life, whether metaphorical or literal. We hold on and we are kind because we hope, one day, that kindness will touch us back. That despite it all we try our fucking hardest to wear a smile, and see the good in everything we can.

And I think that's why it hurts so much. Karlach is finally free. And happy. She feels loved. She's finally feeling some of that kindness again kindness that I know, that she knows she fucking deserves. And it's on a fucking time limit.

And that's what's fucking breaking me. I know she's supposed to be some kind of allegory for terminal illness. And I know this isn't my story. I know it's a story that is important to tell, and it will touch others in a different way. But for me it feels like all the wounds I've barely scabbed over are being ripped open again. Because this is not an ending she deserves at all. It makes me sit and wonder, is that all there is for people like us? Just brief windows of happiness in the pain until we die? Don't we deserve saving? Don't we deserve a happy ending? A peaceful one? Don't we deserve to wear that smile, that happiness without us having to fight for every second it with tooth and nail to keep it there? To believe in it?

I don't know the endings in detail for her. But i have seen enough in the vaguest sense to feel it won't be good, and I don't know if I'm ready for that. I have played games with sad themes, like I know Cyberpunk isn't that great either - but I think the difference is who it is happening to. It's somehow easier when it's you, as the player. But when it's someone else? When you know that pain so fucking keenly you would rip yourself apart just to let them escape that hell, it's hard to stomach.

Then there's the disability angle that bothers me so much. Currently her options, as she puts it, are burning up and dying or going back to Avernus. I understand why she's choosing death, like, fuck man I do. Why is it always death though? Why is death better. Why can't she get a replacement heart? Make it shit! It can be a shitty heart that still works, but needs tune ups, and maybe she can't fight like she used to but she gets to fucking live a happy life! Because a shitty, happy life is better than nothing at all. Because as it goes, it feels to me I'm just being told it's easier to just die than submit to the suffering again whenever a piece of media picks an end like this. It's either the cure-all or death, there's never room for something in between. There's never room for making peace with what you have lost and still reclaiming some of your life, grieving what you have lost but still finding something worth having and holding onto. And when you're in that limbo state yourself, it's a hard pill to swallow. And it's hard to let anyone else fall into it.

We both deserve life. We both deserve happiness.

Fuck.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for ruining my shitty boss' reputation and potentially discouraging good teachers from working at a socioeconomically disadvantaged school?

(apologies, this is a long one)

Last year, I (24F - then 23) got a teaching job at the public high school I graduated from. I worked under a vice principal (late 30s/early 40s), who I will call VP. I was hired alongside three other first year teachers, but I was the only one who was an alumni of the school. As a former student at the high school, and as someone who lives in the area the high school services, I know that the area (and school) have a bad reputation that isn't deserved (it's mostly racism and prejudice imo). The teachers are very supportive and have a strong sense of community with the students, and generally work to provide opportunities for underprivileged kids. I wouldn't be where I am today without their support, and they were super happy to have me back as well and work with me in a professional capacity - and I was excited to do the same.

Now, my VP and principal had been working at that school site for the past few years - long after I graduated - so I don't have the same connection with them, nor they with me. VP initially offered me a temp position, then it got switched to a permanent position as the teacher whose position I took decided they're not coming back.

So I always felt that the VP was picking on me for some reason, but never really brought it up because I didn't want to seem like I was complaining at work as the newbie. He would do twice a week walk-in observations of my classroom, while the other first year teachers got walk-in observations twice every three months. He would also have meetings with me during my prep time 4 out of 5 days of the week - meaning I barely got any prep (once again, he would not do this with the other first year teachers). He also frequently forgot my name and would write me up for ridiculous reasons (he once wrote me up because a student farted in my class and I didn't reprimand the student! What the fuck do I say to that?!).

It got to the point where, even though I wasn't complaining to my coworkers, they noticed. Other teachers brought up how oddly and unfairly he was treating me, and even set up a meeting with our union representative on my behalf. At the meeting, I brought up these grievances, and VP downplayed them all and claimed any perceived slight was not intentional, and since most of the issues weren't in writing (except for the numerous write-ups) it was his word against mine. The meeting ended with us both apologizing to each other, and really nothing else happened. His weird treatment of me actually escalated after the union rep meeting; he once came into my classroom and yelled at me in front of my students for letting a student go to the bathroom, and also demanded I work outside of my contracted work hours (which I refused, and he made it clear he didn't like that).

Needless to say, all of the other teachers in my department and myself were all wondering why the fuck does he not like me, and we found out why recently. During one of his tirades late last school year, he told me (verbally - no written proof) that he didn't want to hire me and only did so because the other teachers on the hiring committee insisted upon it. He told me to thank my lucky stars that my position was the one that "happened" to become permanent. I told my coworkers, and one of them (whose wife works at the school district's HR department) informed me that shortly after I was hired VP was in a super long meeting with HR arguing over a new hire - which we now guess was likely me. It also came out that the two other first year teachers frequently go to bars with him and play golf.

Long story short, earlier this week he told me that he's firing me so that he can instead transfer in another teacher from a different site - one that, you guessed it, he goes to bars with and plays golf. This guy has a bad reputation in the district, though, for generally being a shitty guy and an even shittier teacher.

When the news broke to my department, it quickly spread to the rest of the school. A lot of the older, more established teachers at my school became really outraged, apparently complained to the union and the principal about it, union said they can't really do anything because nothing wrong was officially committed, principal stood behind VP's decision, yadda yadda, and a bunch of teachers have since made it clear they are also not returning next year. Resignation notices, sudden retirement declarations, requests to transfer to other schools in the district - you name it. A good 85% of the teachers at the school are leaving suddenly, including influential pillars of the school's community, people who have been there since the school was founded.

Here is the main WIBTA:

Last year, I was also working on getting a Master's degree in education, and I accomplished that. Yahoo, yay, etc. Due to the nature of my thesis and Master's program, I worked closely with a few professors of education, who - in turn - have a bunch of connections with various big-name people in the area. Also, over summer break, my thesis was good enough that they toured me around a bit, and I got to make acquaintances with other notable people with notable connections. Once again, in an effort to seem professional, I didn't complain or really reveal any of my lukewarm feelings about my boss, but now, as my professors continue to want to have me showboat my thesis around, they keep asking how my work is. I'm going to tell them that I'm no longer going to be working at that school (partially to be truthful, partially to ask them to be references) - but moreso, I'm thinking of telling them how shitty my boss was. If I do that, knowing them, they'll likely tell some of the many people they know, who will likely ruin this man's whole career. However, these professors also teach teacher credential classes and trainings, and I'm worried they might discourage future teachers from working at that school. I don't want to doom the students of this school to shitty teachers who don't support them all because of a shitty vice principal.

So, WIBTA for complaining about my shitty boss to some influential people I know and possibly discourage teachers from working at that school?

What are these acronyms?

[louisisalarrie]

Has babygate helped or hurt L’s career over time?

heyaaaaa anon. welcome to the show x

ultimately hurt it in the long run. it helped, and continues to help, his closeting, but overall he lost a hell of a lot of OG fans through bbg. but he was set up to fail with it anyway, as they were gonna put him through hell for harry to come out and then they’d end bbg and yeah. anyway.

there’s some serious factions to Louis’ career particularly, I would argue more so than Harry’s, because of bbg. It’s honestly a very interesting thing to observe, the way people either hold their idol accountable, or romanticise everything they do, create a whole diff version in their head etc., but I find it incredibly intriguing that in the same breath people can say “I believe Louis is a dad” and “louis is a good dad” because if you look at it, for what it is and run straight off the public image of he has a child, well it would appear he’s been using that kid for publicity from day one from a one night stand with some chick in LA and he never sees the kid, but when he does we know about it, and he lets his sisters plaster that kid’s face on their socials, and he’s aware of the Larry rumours and continued to put a child through all of that for… clout? Being a proud dad? Wanting to show off his son? Like… sorry, what?

The dude wasn’t fresh into fame at that point, Larry had been around for like 5 years, he was well aware of how the fandom would react. And you know who else was? SC. the big dog himself. He, and his team, created these images for the boys. If these solos wanna criticise literally ANY marketing plot or any single thing about Louis’ image or 1d’s image, they’d need to untie their entire world of thinking because SC wouldn’t just fucking allow this to happen if it was real. It’s just sooooooooo contradictory for years of work he put in to creating the One Direction™️ brand. It simply doesn’t make sense.

So I don’t really know how they make that jump in their brains, but I will say, a lot of folks who believe he has a kid, are new fans. They didn’t experience 1d in real time, and saw what went on. They also don’t bother to do their research (which im sure many of you lovely larries who are newer have), so they’re just running off his current image of straight laddy daddy andddd ultimately, that has been good for his career.

It’s a classic push of “authenticity”. Artists with parasocial relationships, unique relationships, artist to fan camaraderie, a “we’ll do this together”, and him sharing parts of his life like a kid or whatever, works really well. He’s showing us a part of his life that he thinks we deserve because we’re special to him. And bbg is a convenient way of doing so (im not saying he is encouraging or happy for this to happen at all, this is on the marketing side: its a convenient stunt).

BBG is really easy. Pull out the kid every once in a while to show off that authenticity because it works. The sisters do the work for him. They get more engagement on their socials, he doesn’t have to gf stunt, so all in all you can see how a PR rep would be able to spin this positively and try to show the “upsides” to exploiting a child. It was messily done at the beginning, but it’s established now and has had years to fester and perfect, so it’s lazier which also makes it seem more real.

Look, I’ve had a long day and all in all this is a sticky topic because I could write for 10 days on this, but ultimately bbg has worked for his current image and headlines and new fans. It’s worked pretty well. It didn’t work well for the Larrie following he had. He lost a lot of fans throughout the years. Some who ended up giving up and saying “I can’t be a fan of louis anymore because he’s exploiting this kid whether it’s fake or not” etc., so.

But I mean it’s always like that. No matter what image you go for, you’re gonna lose and gain fans. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. I just think it wasn’t necessary to continue on the stunt. But he owed SC, and so it stuck way longer than it should’ve. And now, no PR folks wanna touch or even start to unravel it because of the headache it’ll cause. But the lawyers will have a field day. I can’t wait for these cunts to be held accountable.

[real-total-drama-takes]

Damn emmater actually changed to sierrater. Time to follow through with my promise

Reminder before I begin that I don’t condone sierras actions and think the coderra plotline should have just been an obsessive crush with no physical violations of boundaries and consent

The first thing I adore about sierra is her personality. From the moment she’s introduced in the celebrity manhunt special we get to see her intense passion for total drama- she’s gone the extra mile to learn everything she can about total drama and it’s contestants. She’s just so enthusiastic about getting to meet everyone and I quite admire how excited she was to finally pursue her dream of being on the show. She’s a hilarious goofball every time she’s on screen and will always go the extra mile to fight for what she believes is right. Sierra is a MASTER at challenges and can very easily kick the asses (or save the lives of, remember Niagara brawls) of multiple people if that’s what it takes to achieve her goals.

I see a lot of myself in sierra. I’m autistic and headcanon that sierra is the same. She’s not the best with picking up social cues- Cody aside there’s several moments where she doesn’t seem to understand the hidden meaning behind some people’s actions; the “I think I sat in gum” scene being a good example. Theres a *lot* of instances of her stimming in front of the other contestants and she’s shown to be sensitive to loud noises and bright lights too. Idk, there’s just something about sierra that makes me feel so seen when I watch her in the show. I hate how a lot of autism rep is just white men with special interests in trains or some shit; we need more rep of the negative sides of autism where the failure to pick up social cues can cost us important relationships and make us come off as weirdos to other people and I feel like sierra is that rep.

I completely understand why some people are completely turned off by coderra and that’s 100% valid, but to me coderra remains the best ship of the show’s original run. I do not condone Sierra’s actions, but there were multiple coderra moments that I just couldn’t help but laugh really fucking hard at. Coderra has an amazing end to their story as well- there’s just something really sweet about Cody finally coming around and appreciating sierra as being more than just a stalker when she went the extra mile to celebrate his birthday after not even his parents remembered it. Not to mention Cody would literally be *dead* if it weren’t for sierra. She’s not only taken bullets for him both physically and metaphorically, but the girl straight up went underwater while wheelchair bound, pulled a shark up to land and then beat it up until it spit Cody back out (funny how both of my favorite td ships involve one partner saving the other from a shark I’m just now realizing this lmao) anyways, if not for sierra, Cody would have been shark food. Say what you want about sierra Cody fans but your fav would be dead without her.

I’m of the minority that actually enjoyed sierra during all stars. Yes, the cam-Cody arc was stupid but it did give us a few good jokes (“your ears are wrong and so is your face” gets me every time) but most importantly it proved something. Sierra never once stole Cameron’s stuff, forced herself upon him or went into spaces like his cabin without asking. While yes this is the bare minimum it proves that at the very least she’s made an improvement to her behaviors overtime and might actually be getting the help she needs. Character development is always nice to see!

If any of y’all are interested I actually made a slideshow for her appreciation day on the subreddit last year, it’s mostly the same points that I just gave but this is something I’m genuinely proud of https://www.reddit.com/r/Totaldrama/s/o5KCQJ0ltT

TLDR sierra is an amazing character who I feel strongly deserves more love for her positive qualities

-Sierrover (🐈)

[kagaminelen]

ahhh flashback time

and now we see what would've happened after Kai, okeeeey

Class rep Keichii is cute~

Finally, pre-tragedy stuff I can actually pay attention to. It's kinda nice seeing Rika and Satoko just hang out

if Satoko can be cured.....can't Satoshi be cured too~

also Satoko saying "it's way too early to be worrying about entrance exams wtf" like???? Rika is giving you PLENTY of time to come to terms with the fact that she wants to leave. It would be bad if she waited until the final year of high school to tell you this. She did the right thing

okay the scene where they're both studying and Satoko wakes up and shares the blanket with Rika is absolutely tooth-rottingly adorable

While Rika has blossomed into a mature young woman, Satoko has stunted her emotional growth as a child.

Rika needs to stand up for Satoko but Satoko needs to learn to accept help. Unlike Satoko, Rika is extremely grateful to be in this position, whereas Satoko took being with Rika for granted. She never thought she'd have to work for Rika's attention. And now she's mad she has to endlessly study in order to keep up with her. It's jealousy. Satoko can't say "you said you were supposed to experience this life with me???" when Rika had reached out during multiple attempts and Satoko turned her down. That's on you babe, stop being jealous.

You beat her down so hard she wanted to kill herself. You broke her spirit so much you made her admit she loved the horribly tragic bird's cage that was Hinamizawa and refused to let her leave unless she said this to you.

okay, onto the next episode.

the public freakout is NOT the look Satoko

OH OKAY SO RIKA DOES STAND UP FOR SATOKO IN PRIVATE?????? AND ONCE AGAIN OFFERED AN OLIVE BRANCH AND SATOKO TURNED IT DOWN AGAIN

I hope they don't try to make this look like either girl could be right. Because Satoko is the one being a whiny little child right now. Rika said "you really shouldn't talk like that in a place like this" and Satoko was like "OH SO I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU ANYMORE" like oh my god girl.

why is it so hard to believe that Rika has just grown up. Satoko's so sure she's just putting on a temporary act but maybe like....Rika just grew up.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh I knew Satoko was gonna pull some dumb trap. Like GROW THE FUCK UP

OH THEY PUT HER ASS IN PRISON??????????????????????? oh no...she thinks Rika snitched on her. unfortunate. but deserved, nonetheless

Mion's so cute, calling herself an old fart lol

WHAT IS THAT GETUP KEICHII IS WEARING KSDAJF;LASDKCNOL that is SO silly

new post for higurashi-posting

it took me two days to get through 1.5 episodes of this. having to do this all again is horrible uwaaaaaaa

I miss Shion :((((((((((((( she's probably not gonna be around for a couple episodes

AYO???????? not him remembering onikakushi-hen?! and here I thought this was just a remake, not an actual new loop. although, I guess the beginning of the episode said it was the case.

you would hope that Keichii would do like he did at the end of tsumihoroboshi-hen and not make the same mistakes again

although my next question is if Rika is going to try to change this outcome, since she should have all the information needed to stop everything from happening

[corner-stories]

teen titans plz if thats ok

send me a fandom and i’ll tell you…

the first character i ever fell in love with:

The first TT comic I ever picked up was JT Krul's run near the end of V3 and that run introduced me to Rose Wilson and basically started the obsession from there.

Sean McKeever's run also solidified my fondness for her and I will go to the grave saying that he's one of the few writers who actually understands Rose Wilson

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not:

When I was a kiddo I was really into Raven thanks to the 2003 TT Cartoon and when I picked up the comics I found her pretty cool in there as well. But as of lately I haven't been that into her.

No shame on Raven, I suppose the direction that DC wants to take with her character just doesn't vibe with me.

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not:

When I was younger I kinda liked Cassie and Tim together but nowadays I can't say the same.

Them collectively treating Rose Wilson like utter shit may have something to do with it :(

my ultimate favorite character™:

ROSE WILSONNNNN

prettiest character:

Donna Troy is absolutely gorgeous

my most hated character:

I was not a fan of Bombshell aka the Captain Atom derivative, not just because she was fucking horrible to Rose (noticing a pattern here?) but also because the Titans treated a LITERAL TRAITOR better than a girl who stated repeatedly that her father DRUGGED HER INTO COMPLIANCE.

my OTP:

Donna and Roy

and secretly Bart Allen/Rose Wilson

my NOTP:

For some reason I really didn't dig the Kon x Rose that JT Krul tried to build up to in his run, as much as I liked his work on v3. Maybe it would've gone somewhere had the reboot not existed but the dynamic just didn't vibe with me.

favorite episode:

The ending issue where literally every Titan who's ever Titan'd during the last 99 issues showed up to kick ass makes me very very happy

saddest death:

Eddie Bloomberg

also we never got to see Rose's reaction to one of the few Titans who showed her genuine kindness when no one else did so that makes my EddieRose heart cry

favorite season:

I've clearly mentioned by fondness for JT Krul's run by this point

least favorite season:

literally wtf was going on between the Terror Titans arc and JT Krul's run? Plus that was when my boy Eddie died

Also Lob/dell's TT run is disturbingly bad, 'nuff said

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate:

can't really think of any but Bombshell clearly got on my nerves more than once

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave:

Pre-Flashpoint Jason Todd was technically a Titan for a while and that issue where he attacked Tim in the Tower was kinda hardcore

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave:

Solstice aka Kiran Singh, a character JT Krul introduced in his Wonder Girl one-shot as well as his TT run, was characterized as a kind, intelligent, cheery soul and the literal embodiment of sunshine. She also provided some much needed positive South Asian rep in comics, which I will always approve of.

However, come Flashpoint and Scott Lob//dell getting his cruddy hands on her and poor Kiran is literally unrecognizable... then she DIES in Sanctuary and that's it for her.

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship:

Is it bad if I say that I wouldn't be mad if DC attempted to put Jericho and Raven together again in the 2000s where he was decidedly less heroic?

Like, under the hands of a competent writer I feel like a very 'dark romance' angle could be played as literal demons cause chaos for the two of them

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship:

M'gann and Eddie had a sweet dynamic, although Eddie/Rose is more my thing.

[uneryx]

A story + some advice

Once upon a time, back in 2009, I was “cancelled”.

We didn’t call it that, back then, but basically, after making a shitty, sanctimonious post, nearly every online friend I had made told me to go fuck myself and stopped talking to me. [below the cut - the story, plus some advice to the TDP fandom about toxic fans, consequences, and bad fan behavior from someone who has both been both accuser and defendant. This isn’t a Pity Me post, btw, just me trying to neutrally describe a Bad Time and draw comparisons to an ongoing situation to express both sympathy and clearly state that sometimes consequences are deserved.]

Oh, I had my reasons for the post I made. I was living with my parents, and they had discovered my secret livejournal. After several hours of screaming matches I was given the ultimatum - quit livejournal and LJRP forever, or move out with nothing but my car, my clothes, and the $60 I had in the bank. I chose not being homeless.

As part of this, I was allowed to make one final LJ post - a goodbye, telling people where I was, a (heavily edited) version of what happened and a plea to all my LJ friends to consider that they too might be “addicted to the internet” and they should “save themselves”. It was self-righteous and unwelcome, and my mother had no compunctions showing me the comments telling me to kill myself, get fucked, etc. It was devastating, and I spent the end of 2009 and the beginning of 2010 completely socially isolated, with no one but my parents for friendship. Needless to say, it blew.  Some of those friendships came back, either because those friends had the patience and kindness to understand my situation/hadn’t taken it so personally, or because after years (and I do mean literal years, like... 5+ years), mutual forgiveness happened. But not all of them. There are people who I spoke with daily who i haven’t spoken to in 12 years and I wonder what they’re up to now. Good things, I hope. I wish them nothing but success and happiness. But I had been an asshole and made a post that hurt people, and promptly been shown the door. And I don’t expect anyone to forgive me for being an asshole, even if my own circumstances were pretty dire. I made the choices that I did, and live with the consequences of those choices. That’s... just being an adult. Now. Lets talk about TDP and a certain she who will not be named. Miss thing has said and done some things that are high on my bad-fan-behavior list. She’s tagged the official account in a plea to have them mediate her fandom drama. She posted a suicide threat in the main fandom hashtag, without any warnings or tw tags, just right there for any and everyone to see. She’s made some pretty harsh accusations of other fans of bullying, harassment and death threats, but has produced no receipts or proof, which - in this day and age - is pretty important when making such a serious allegation - meaning I have to assume she’s making it up. She’s defended JKR and said that calling ol’ Joanne a TERF is unwarranted, claimed that “biological gender” can’t be ignored, whined about “liberal privilege,” and claimed that white people experience racism too because there isn’t enough “Tuscan rep.” (girl, what? Tuscany? I guarandamntee you more white people know what Tuscan culture looks like than Fillipino or Indigenous culture, what the hell.) She asks her followers to brigade and harass other fans as well as the people she’s accused, and blows things out of proportion... and then has had repeated histrionic meltdowns in the main fandom  hashtag, the public square of fandom, over one of these big name fans allegedly getting other fans to block her (still, no receipts).  I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but the claims she’s making are not true. If you know the ppl in question and follow them for any length of time, that is not the people who they are and they would never. Furthermore, trying to get Wonderstorm involved like they’re the fan police is, as i have said in my most popular post this week, bad. It’s bad. It’s bad fan behavior and being called out for it is deserved. So why am I telling you my sob story and then whipping around to talk about a similar story? Because I deserved being cancelled. I said something shitty - even if my circumstances were understandable and sympathetic! But what I did with that is attacked and harmed other people.  Attacking and harming others and making your drama and mental health public is toxic. People have a right to call you out, block you, and stop interacting with you if your behavior is harmful to them and the people they care about. It’s not harassment, its not bullying. It’s fucking consequences for being someone people don’t want to be around. I get it, I really do. It SUCKS. But sometimes you have to grow up and realize that when you hurt people, they might hurt you back. Nobody in fandom wants to be around someone who is constantly making drama their problem. And nobody in fandom should have to deal with that. 

I want miss missy to take it out of the fandom. She keeps threatening to leave tumblr and honestly I wish she would? At least until she’s grown, matured and learned how to handle her mental health in a productive way that doesn’t drag everyone, of all ages, into the fray. As it is right now she’s just making herself and everyone else miserable. Redemption isn’t something magically granted because one has apologized - it must be earned by a good faith demonstration of change. Not a performative change, but TRUE change. Until then, well... Sometimes you gotta cut your losses and leave. If you’re young and riled and feeling like the big mean fandom BNFs are harassing this poor poor mentally ill queer woman? Consider, perhaps, that she isn’t the only mentally ill queer woman in the fandom (hi!), and that when people call her out for toxic behavior it’s not bullying, but consequences. (BTW, madam, if you’re reading this: I didn’t block you because anyone told me to - in fact, i was told by certain parties NOT to block you. I blocked you because I don’t want you looking at my posts and thinking you can use my platform to give your self-aggrandizing pity party legitimacy like you absolutely did whenever I blogged about forgiveness, fan culture or positivity. These posts are not for you. Nice to see you didn’t respect my boundaries and are looking at this logged out, too.)

[instantpansies]

okay yeah this episode is frustrating bc gender roles and an unwillingness to inspire starfleet to improve itself. but also bc janice literally was justified, she was discriminated against, she did deserve captaincy (at least at some point), jim did do her wrong, she did hate being a woman. but what's she met with? pity. dismissal. the same fucking stuff she's been dealing with this whole time, and she's finally decided to make a move and try to get what she's always wanted the only way she finds possible. and yeahh that happens to be hijacking a vessel and manipulating and abusing its crew and the power of the post and attempting to kill a not insignificant number of people. but i can't say she didn't have reason.

what i would've liked to see (especially for the final episode/a season finale) was acknowledgement that starfleet is flawed and misogynist, that janice should've been a captain, that her actions were harmful but her reasons were justified. idk. i still think it's a well-done episode but hearing her say over and over that she hates being a woman, that her gendered role and place is the worst thing to happen to her, that jim dismissed her and refused to fight for her, is extremely compelling and sympathetic. it's tragic, and despite her actions being harmful, i honestly believe she was justified here. she's been directly and personally oppressed and has no way to fight the system except to infiltrate it and take her rightful position by force. and that? that seems like a deep problem with the system. also she's transmasc.

i think this episode really highlights that side of him that the fandom (understandably) tries to minimize. in tos, kirk is not especially feminist. yes, he respects women, but it's so grating when he reiterates for the thousandth time that women are naturally more emotional and fragile and sensitive, that their best life is spent In Love With A Man, that it's funny to fight a woman bc they don't have a chance against him. just once i'd like to see him get well and truly beaten in a wrestling match by a woman. just once. because i think kirk is a product of his age, i think it makes sense for the fandom to adapt him to more modern sensibilities, i think he would be a feminist if the writers weren't allergic to creating non-love-interest female characters (besides uhura. i love you uhura, never stop). but i don't think we should ignore that tos, on its own, is often very reductive. annoyingly so.

janice lester is i think one of the best examples of that disappointing rep: she's a jilted ex, a vengeful bitch who refuses to accept her role as a woman and resents her gender. and to that i say, slay, but you deserved so much better. i'm sorry, janice, and i hope you can get on T in prison.

okay so janice lester was extremely valid and girlboss for that but honestly i think testosterone would have saved him

[onthevirgooftears]

my opinion on the gacha community

As someone who's been in the community since gacha studio and has stayed in the community, never once leaving, I'm just going to come right out and say it, the gacha community is an absolute fucking mess and it deserves every ounce of hate it gets. Death threats are too much, but the general criticism and taunting is well deserved considering what the community is actually like.

don't come at me and say "but it's not all bad uwu" what the gacha community considers good (rosyclozy, notzoey) isn't actually all that impressive, which I'll be covering later but that's not the point, we (as a community,) have very low standards, I'm guilty of it myself, I actually thought tmf was good until I wised up and realised it really, really wasn't.

So basically, what I'm saying, is that as a community what we considering good is actually cringey and bad in everyone else's minds because the community is full of literal 5 year olds, our standards in gacha content doesn't matter when you compare it to literally everything else.

That being said, I don't think it's necessarily wrong to say (some) gacha content is good, for example, boy with bad luck and girl with good luck are actually pretty good, way better then the majority of the gacha content that's put out today, so, as you can see, my opinion on the community isn't all bad, I just think it sucks ass in more ways then one.

so, moving on, there is one thing I definitely agree on when it comes to the bad rep our community has gotten, our community has a thing for 'forgiving' people when they're clearly terrible people, it happened with len totally, it's happening with yukki, it'll probably happen again, I know it wasn't all the community, I'm not stupid, but especially with the len totally situation so many people where forgiving him and blaming the victim, if people in our community think that's okay, we deserved to get bullied, sounds harsh but it's true.

#savethegachacommunity has been going around for a while now and I've never, not even once, understood the purpose of it. Just because you don't like a certain part of a community, you can't just get rid of it, all community's have a bad side, if it where that easy to just up and remove it then I'm positive everyone would have been doing it, so, I'll say this once, we literally cannot save our community, it's shit enough already and we don't need adding more flame to the fire by giving the 'bad side' attention. It's unnecessary, stop doing it.

so, alot of the gacha community is blaming trends for the communitys downfall which no, I'm sorry, but it isn't that, it's because everyone realised how immature we where when (some) of you went out of your way to defend a fucking child gr@@mer, the trends don't matter, it's not their fault they got attention.

If there's anything I didn't cover please let me know, I'll probably do a part 2 at some point, the gacha community is really shitty and definitely needs to be covered more then it actually is.

[comingoutofthecauldron]

let’s talk about lesbophobia in fandom

i don’t like to use the word “lesbophobia” unironically because of all the gross radfem terfy connotations, so i will clarify right off the bat that i am neither a terf nor an aphobe and that if you are i want you off my blog like, right now. unfortunately, the meaning of lesbophobia has been so warped by alt right lesbians that seeing it in an unironic context makes me, a lesbian, uncomfortable, which speaks volumes in itself. so to clarify, lesbophobia is essentially homophobia with a pinch of sexism thrown into the mix, and it’s running rampant in supposed safe spaces and, more relevantly, fandom. 

/i’d also like to clarify that i’m not only speaking on lesbophobia, but also the general disgust and disdain for all wlw in fandom, and am using it as a sort of umbrella term/

lesbophobia and disdain for wlw has been around forever, but whilst gay positivity, mlm and mlm ships have been steadily increasing in popularity within fandom over time, wlw and wlw ships have remained perpetual underdogs. why? because lesbophobia has become a fandom within itself. both in and outside of fandom, we see instances of casual lesbophobia every single day—from aggression towards wlw to something as simple and prevalent as the complete and utter lack of sapphic ships and characters in media. hatred of lesbians and wlw is practically a trend, and it’s seeping in through the cracks of fandoms who are already facing issues with minorities and marginalized groups (i.e. racism, ableism). if you honestly think that lesbophobia isn’t prevalent as hell in fandom right now, you’re either not a wlw, you’re not all that involved in fandom, or you’re dumb as shit. 

just look at ships. in almost every single fandom, the ratio of mlm ships to sapphic ships is ridiculously unbalanced. people are quick to ship male characters who so much as smile at each other (and i don’t condemn that) but would never do the same for two women—even on the rare occasion that the ship is actually canon. i once wrote a wlw fanfic for a [predominantly straight] fandom, and received messages like this gem:

on the flip side of that, if there is a sapphic ship in canon or fanon, it is often fetishized and sexualised to a disturbing degree. there will be double the amount of nsfw art and fics, and ninety percent of it will be derogatory and fetishized as hell. having been actively involved in several fandoms over the past few years (and currently a content creator in one), i’ve seen instances of all this hundreds of times. people go crazy for mlm ships, but the second you say you ship/prefer a wlw ship, there’s always someone at the ready with, “i think all ships are great!” or “it’s not a contest” or “i prefer [insert m/m or m/f ship] actually” or “they’re my brotp!/why can’t you just let them be friends?”. not only do lesbians and wlw not get to have any rep in media, any rep that they try to create for themselves in fandom just gets attacked or ruined. this is so detrimental not only to all wlw, but especially to younger wlw who will end up being indoctrinated into this belief that their sexuality is something dirty, something that can never be tender and sweet but rather something that deserves to be preyed upon. 

building on that, let’s talk about engagement. i run an instagram account (where i have a significantly bigger following) as well as this blog for my fandom, where i post the content i create (mainly text posts). when i first started creating content, i made a lot for a relatively unpopular wlw ship, in which both girls are canonically romantically involved with a dude—though one of them is canonically pan. their canonical m/f ships are both very popular, and i noticed that my engagement was dropping every time i posted them, so i eventually just stopped. it wasn’t even a conscious decision; i merely resigned myself to the fact that the fandom didn’t want to see sapphic ships, and some people would even go as far as to condemn them. for reference, my instagram posts get an average of about 500 likes per post (popular ones usually exceeding 1k), but when i post this ship, my engagement drops to about 250 likes. similarly, my tumblr text posts have an average of about 140 notes per post (popular ones usually reaching up to 750), but my wlw content rarely surpasses 100. this just feeds the cycle of wlw never getting rep: if, like me, content creators become disincentivised by the lack of engagement with their sapphic content, they’re more likely to stop making/posting it, leading to further lack of rep—and when new content creators try to rectify that, they face the same problems. 

and then, of course, there’s the treatment of actual wlw in fandom. my best example of this is when my friend and i made an anti account on instagram (the first instagram anti account in that fandom), our bio saying something like “salty and bitter lesbians being salty and bitter”, and received an onslaught of lesbophobic insults and threats from angry stans within hours. (tw: r*pe) one commenter even went as far as to tell us that they wanted us to get r*ped. as well as this, i’ve seen so many instances of people using slurs against lesbians in arguments/in anons, often for no apparent reason other than they feel that they have the right. when i first mentioned i was a lesbian on instagram, my account only had about 200 followers, and within a day i lost 20. i also lose followers whenever i post f/f ships, not quite to that extent but enough for it to be noticeable, on top of the aforementioned engagement dips. in the face of all this adversity, i think a lot of wlw turn to mlm ships because they’re the closest thing we have to actual rep, but when we do we get accused of fetishizing them by the same people who fetishize us. there’s an endless list of double standards that non-wlw have been upholding for years, and i can firmly say that i’m really fucking sick of it. because of our sexuality, we will never be allowed to enjoy something without someone labelling it or us as dirty or otherwise problematic, when to them, the only problematic thing about us is that we aren’t pleasing men. 

as i mentioned before, the lack of rep for wlw in media is appallingly consistent, and part of that stems from tokenism. in a lot of modern mainstream media, you’ll have one, maybe two lgbt characters, and nine times out of ten those characters are white cis male gays. of course, there are exceptions to this, but generally, that’s it. script writers and authors (especially cishets) seem to have this mentality of, “oh, well, we gave them one, that’s sure to be enough!”, which means that on the off chance you do get your gay rep, the likelihood of also receiving wlw or any other kind of rep becomes practically non-existant. this belief that all marginalized groups are the same and that one represents all is what leads to misrepresentation on top of lack of rep, which is what makes tokenism so dangerous. if you treat your only gay character badly, you are essentially treating every single gay person badly in that universe. so not only is lesbophobia and disdain for wlw harmful to sapphic women via their exclusion in media, it’s also harming those minorities who do get rep. when people try to defend lesbophobic source material, that’s when fandom starts to get toxic. the need for critical thinking has never been more apparent and it has also never been less appeased—and wlw are getting hit hard by it, as always.

finally, a pretty big driving factor of lesbophobia is, ironically, lesbians. my lesbian friends and i often joke that though everyone seems to hate us, no one hates lesbians more than lesbians do. though i’d say it’s most prevalent on tumblr, i see traces of it all over the internet. the growth of alt right lesbian movements is not only reinforcing hatred for lesbians, but also reinforcing hatred for bi and pan women. here you have these terrible lesbians using their platforms to express their disgust for bi/pan women, for aces and aros, for trans women/nb lesbians, and people see them and say, “gosh, lesbians are just awful.” and just like that, all of us are evil. occasionally, lesbian blogs that i follow get put on terf blocklists for no other reason than the fact that they have “lesbian” in their bio. and the lesbians that actually deserve to be on those blocklists? they’re too busy spewing misinformation about trans women and bi women to care, boosted up by their alt right friends in an ever-expanding movement. i’ve found that this heavily influences fandom on tumblr, lesbians often getting branded as “biphobic” when they hc a female character as a lesbian rather than bi or pan. this criticism of both lesbians and wlw by lesbians and non-wlw alike only ever allows lesbophobia to grow, both in and out of fandom. that said, lesbians aren’t to blame for their own discrimination; rather, many of us have been conditioned into subconsciously endorsing it after spending our entire lives hearing heterosexual platitudes about lesbians and sapphic relationships. homophobic cishets are and always have been the nexus of this oppression—the only difference is that now they can hide behind alt right lesbians.

one thing has been made apparent to me throughout my time in fandom, and that thing is that no one likes to see men “underrepresented”. people hate sapphic ships and lesbians so much because there is no room for men, and men Do Not Like That. so, like the worms that they are, they slither their way in, be it through fetishization or condemnation of wlw characters and ships, and they ruin whatever good things we have going for us. the thing about worms, though, is that they’re easy enough to crush if you’re wearing the right shoes.

so to all my bi/pan gals and lesbian pals: put on your doc martens, because we’ve got ourselves some lesbophobes to stomp on. 

[captainkirkk]

Just finished season 2 of the Hollow and some thoughts: 

(Spoilers ahead)

Canon rep?? Canon rep!! I’m really glad they explicitly had Adam confirm he was gay instead of just teasing it out. A part of me wishes it had been brought up more than once? But it makes sense considering their situation. These panicked kids don’t have to just chat. 

Kai being stupidly rich was surprising, but it kind of makes sense? He’s a little naive/sheltered, especially in season 1. Also :( his parents sound like they suck majorly. Amen for Davis.

I also get the feeling that Kai is a little younger than everyone else. Maybe he’s in the grade below them? That would explain why he doesn’t know that they were all best friends before. Either that or he goes to a different school? (A fancy private one?) Not sure how he met Mira’s little brother though.

The characters were so GOOD? They felt so distinct this season. And they even felt different with their memories (and development from season 1). Mira grew more into a leadership position. Kai threw himself into fights even if they hurt or he was scared. Adam stopped trying to be the hero. And the og Team B?? I hated them in the beginning, but now I would kill for Reeves. He’s so cool?

Also, Mira? Deserves a goddamn metal. 

I’m going to ignore any Vanessa/Kai hints. They’re just becoming friends. Yup. 

I can’t believe they straight up killed a character?? And made our trio bury him? Jesus.

The darker turn and the trauma the characters displayed (breaking down, lashing out, etc) felt very right too. These kids must be so fucking traumatised, good god. Give them a BREAK.

And finally: the long-awaited explanation of what the Hollow is and how our characters fit into it. TBH I have.... mixed feelings.

On one hand, it’s better than the original cop-out we got. I actually liked how they explained the Hollow in season 2, especially since there was a larger mystery going on. But our characters being “digital copies”, only realising that they’re in the Hollow and not the real life because of a glitch.... I don’t know. I’m still processing. But I don’t think I’m a fan.

I read so many amazing theories and ideas post-season 1. I really wish we had gotten a dystopian plot-twist. 

Nothing canon would have done would have lived up to @guardiankarenterrier‘s fic Hollow Outside. I kept thinking about it while watching season 2. Adam, Mira and Kai being “owned” by the corporation that runs the Hollow and being forced to compete for views?? Is such a seamless plot twist?? If I didn’t have wips and commissions to work on, I would sit down and write an AU where Reeves, Vanessa and Skeets are world-ranking VR players who befriend our trio and pool their prize money to eventually buy their freedom when the trio are all 18yo. 

Overall: I really enjoyed it!!

[lizzybeth1986]

I don't think you play TRR/TRH anymore but you should see what they did to Kiara in the newest chapter. It's so dumb and makes me so angry, especially considering the current climate of events. I've already seen people on Reddit be like "but we helped her overcome her trauma" (we didn't lol) and someone called her the c-word, very classy. Honestly PB's been low key racist in the past but all the stuff right now makes it high key...

(Apologies for the long post and not being able to place this under a cut)

I'm pretty glad I got these anons because truth be told I wasn't sure how many people - besides the few that I already knew were constantly speaking about Kiara's treatment in the books - would care enough to ask any questions about this. Most of the posts I saw expressed a disturbing eagerness to throw her under the bus, without exploring nuance or asking questions, and at this point I'm not very surprised.

I've always maintained that the treatment for Kiara is what happens when both the writers and the fandom are heartless, and these past few weeks have only been proof of that.

There are questions you could raise about this finale re: Kiara - questions almost no one seems to bother asking. I have three:

1. In this Coventus Nobilis...how is it that I see four Heads of House, and only one heir? 

2. If Kiara - who is not head of house - is supposed to represent Castelserraillian instead of her father Hakim (who presides over that estate), why do I not see Madeleine? Why do I not see Penelope? 

3. Why are we suddenly seeing Adeleide  popping up out of practically nowhere to rep Krona/Fydelia, and Landon conveniently rep-ping Portavira?  

Some of the answers to these questions lie in the questions themselves. Why else would Madeleine and Penelope not be present in this meeting - if it weren't to purposely distance them from this awful moment? After all, both of them have inbuilt subplots ready for the next book that would require interactions with the core group. How else do you think the writers could ensure we kept coddling them and pandering to them in Book 3, except by distancing them from this "betrayal"?

Why else would the narrative choose to pit Kiara - the lone woman of colour we'd been shitting on for most of this series - against Olivia - the white woman who has been given innumerable individual PoV scenes and her own mini-book (and whose reputation we had to help rebuild in said mini book whether we cared about her stupid duchy or not). 

Why else would they force Kiara to alert us mere minutes before the meeting begin, if not to distract us with crumbs ("See? At least we wrote her as warning you. Of course we don't hate her!"). 

Why else would you have Olivia and Kiara pitted against each other like this - if not to show these two women side by side, on opposing ends -  and compel us to believe that the white woman we spent 4.5 books propping up and pampering, is the most loyal one.  When in fact we have done absolutely nothing to deserve any fucking loyalty from Kiara or her family to begin with! (Ezekiel and his white bride notwithstanding).

What we finally got as a result, was a narrative that (as @queen-of-effing-everything summed it up when I discussed this with her) in one full sweep "glorifies Olivia, shields Madeleine and Penelope and sets up Kiara". Very few of us even noticed. And even if we did notice, is there any guarantee that we would care??

Remember how I mentioned in my last ask that I wished we expanded the same energy that we did with Aurora, to speak up against the ill-treatment of other black characters? Kiara was undoubtedly one of those.

After this, we as a fandom will speak very easily now of her "betrayal". We will call her the b-word and the c-word. We will boast of how we will "take her down" along with Adeleide and Landon and Bartie Sr. We'll boast about how we "never liked her" to begin with, as if doing so required some...idk exemplary foresight. We will make memes about how Olivia was "the only bitch we ever respected". We will make huge, sweeping claims about how Kiara was our "friend" and how (as you've mentioned, anon) we "helped her overcome her trauma" (!!!!) and claim by that token that  we were entitled to good treatment from her. I'm pretty sure when TRH3 finally comes out, her every word and action will be screenshot, put up on blogs, mocked and torn down just so we can write essays on how awful she is. 

Yet I saw very little of this energy in Book 3, where the MC could first emotionally manipulate her into supporting the Unity Tour, and where we actively suspected her  at a time when she was traumatized. At most there was some lukewarm acknowledgement of how she "deserves better", all while people still continued to write fanfic that positioned her as creepy and obsessed and villainous.  Almost no one had a problem with Savannah not acknowledging Kiara's earlier support of her, and in fact I'd seen posts that clubbed her with the other ladies of the court who likely "treated Savannah badly". Her father Hakim was made to join the tour alongside her by default, without the expectations that Landon/Emmeline and Godfrey/Adeleide were allowed to have, and the fandom was mysteriously silent about Hakim being made to "bow to his knees" in a way the others did not have to. Very few people even bothered to  notice or talk about how often Penelope was allowed to hold the MC's baby, or how Kiara was never really allowed to hold her even once. Which "friend" treats someone like this??

When I finally published this essay on the treatment meted out to Kiara especially in Book 3, what I got was a lot of neat, but ultimately hollow, little platitudes about how Kiara "deserved better" (How and in what way? Who knows, who cares). Out of those many many people who reblogged and responded, only a handful held the MC and Drake in particular (and Maxwell, who thought it appropriate to joke about "one suspect down") accountable for choosing to suspect and interrogate just her, and for showing ZERO remorse in forcing her to reopen those wounds. How is it that we can judge Kiara for this latest "betrayal", yet pretend that the MC and Drake had nothing to do with the pain THEY caused to her? How is it that this fandom was so fired up over her comments, yet would have such a weak, muted, carefully-generalized response to the screenshots where Drake was openly suspecting her and optionally  minimizing her trauma? 

Following that, why should we be entitled to good treatment from Kiara when we never really gave her even half as much?? Why is it so easy to divorce characters from their words and actions in Drake/MC/Maxwell's case, but so hard for a character like Kiara? (One may claim this is because Drake and Maxwell are potential co-protagonists, but the aforementioned essay already proves that you as a main character can get punished for not treating a mere side character with kindness).

Another thing that fascinates and repulses me even further is how the fandom has created myths around this one character, and how PB has constantly leaned into these "characteristics" even though the text itself tells an altogether different story:

1. Kiara is a snob. This is especially hilarious considering that she is established in Book 2 as being the only person who befriended Savannah before her departure and cared about what happened to her when she left. Never once in the books has she looked down on us for class-related issues, or outright mocked people for not knowing the languages she knew. In fact, she was the first person to acknowledge our skills if we showed any before Lythikos in Book 1. On the other hand, Penelope can be uppity and look down on us in Book 1 (there is even a dialogue option in Chapter 10 that leads to her calling us a "commoner wench") if we don't do well, and yet she's a cinnamon roll.  Olivia can engage in snobbish , entitled behaviour without the fandom having a problem just because she's their favourite. Madeleine can look down on us and pretend for 3/4ths of the social season that we're not worth her time yet somehow Kiara is the snob. Okay. Okay. 😐

2. Kiara is "obsessed with" Drake and constantly comes on to him. This is said by the same group of people who saw Olivia fucking Nevrakis plant a WHOLE FUCKING SMACKER on Liam's mouth, and said..nothing. Kiara on the other hand, has admired Drake's abs once, mentioned she'd always liked Drake once, spoken normally to him about his sister once, flirted with him once (Paris tea party), and ordered a wine from him when he was bartending. In the next book she either looks at him wistfully or admires his suit. Yet somehow she's the creepy, annoying, stalkerish. Okay. Ooookay. 😑

(This one was particularly damaging, because post the TRR3 hiatus, all efforts from PB were focused on reversing Kiara's position as an alternative LI. This included "confirming" on livestream that her affections were one-sided, at a time when Olivia was finally allowed to have some romantic moments with a single Liam, pushing forward a buildup scene to Drake's eventual secret wedding that had him acting extremely rude and confrontational to Kiara mere minutes after suspecting her (while she was expressing joy at his upcoming wedding in his playthrough!!!), and involving a subplot where he openly and by default suspected her. Sure, he spends a minute to be nice to her and chat about trauma if the MC chooses. But that's like a drop of sewage water floating in an ocean of shit).

3. Kiara Pretended to Be Our Friend And Then Dropped Us: This is false. Kiara only ever promised to put in a good word for us to the rest of the court, no more, no less. And she fulfilled that promise. Otherwise she never pretended to be friends with us nor made friendly overtures either way. In fact if you're going to accuse anyone of duplicity, you have Penelope and Madeleine. Yet somehow Kiara is the dishonest one. Okay. Okay. 🙃

4. Kiara Was Insensitive To Penelope and Didn't Understand Her. I'm not sure how Kiara is supposed to magically understand something that her friend isn't telling her. Plus this argument deliberately leaves out the fact that she stood up for Penelope when people chose to be mean to her, and even explained to the MC that she employs "tough love" because she can't always be around to protect Penelope. It also leaves out how one-sided this friendship is and how Kiara is made to do most of the heavy work in this friendship. Meanwhile, at Kiara's most difficult time period, in Castelserraillian, Penelope says absolutely nothing as the MC forces Kiara to join the Unity Tour, while making bedroom eyes at Kiara's brother. In fact the only reason Kiara's brother even exists is to give Penelope a love interest. The Kiara-Penelope friendship practically revolves around Penelope. I have never really seen Penelope look out for Kiara or attempt to actually support her in any way, and Kiara was the one who got the knife wounds. Yet somehow I'm supposed to believe that Penelope's the better friend of the two. Suuuuure. 😡

And this steaming pile of crap doesn't just make its way into shitposts and short opinion posts. It creeps into fanfic and fandom opinions. It finds its way in the tags and in other social media. It eventually even finds its way into the books, even though nothing in the earlier narrative ever really supported these extremely stale takes. 

Because PB didn't care for Kiara the way they cared for their white characters, they had no problem framing her narrative the way this fandom so desparately wanted it. Book 3 has the MC claim behind her back that Kiara is stuck-up and acts like knowing ten languages makes her better than everybody else, even though this is not backed up by the text, and in fact you will never see any acknowledgement of how Madeleine forced Kiara to make herself sound "exotic" in Book 2, or of how Madeleine and the MC (optionally) could downplay or question her skills unless they wanted to use her. Also, Penelope is never allowed to be talked about like that no matter what she's done. PB even had a scene (in the Hana playthrough) where they aggressively retconned the events of Madeleine's bachelorette party, where Kiara supposedly shouted at Penelope until the latter cried, and Madeleine was the one "having fun". Kiara was literally being thrown under the bus to make Madeleine look better. Madeleine. Imagine that. Madeleine.

Given how desparate the fandom was to nitpick and overdramatize everything Kiara said and did, is it any wonder that the team got away with the writing they gave her in Book 3? Considering that all the false arguments I stated above have made a resurgence in the past few weeks or days...is it any wonder that the only "support" this fandom is capable of re: Kiara, is lukewarm platitudes, cold takes and rank hypocrisy??

Yes, we can hold PB solely/largely  accountable for the treatment meted out to Kiara now. They made these choices over and over, and continue to do so, while tossing us occasional crumbs of faux-sweet behaviour from the MC. And they did this in insidious ways, which were so hard to catch that even a Kiara stan like me had to observe multiple playthroughs just to unravel even half of what they'd done.

But let's not pretend a huge chunk of the fandom was just as responsible for this - with their unfounded opinions, their disgusting bias, their favouritism of white characters, their refusal to observe anything besides their favourites, and their godawful fanfiction where Kiara is a creep or evil or killing the virtuous main character. Out of the huge body of fanwork that I've seen for TRR that features Kiara - at least 90% of it features her stalking Drake, or harming the MC (particularly the Drake MC), or in cahoots with the villains, or generally being referred to as a creep (why Olivia, who kissed Liam without his consent in Book 1 and was entitled enough to be angry about him not returning her feelings in TRH1, never got this sort of writing - I fail to understand). There is a tremendous gap between the vitriol dumped on her when she does something the MC doesn't like, and the milquetoast response when harm is done to her. There have been times when I've had to comb through pages and pages of hate just to read even one positive post on Kiara in her own goddamn tag.

When the next book arrives, I know you folks will continue to gas up the white women in this book every chance you get, and mask your racist vitriol for characters like Kiara (and Hana, let's not forget the way y'all treat Hana) behind the same self-righteous judgements and the same tired, stale takes. I know that PB - despite what I will still believe is their hollow promises today - will write every single one of those stale takes into existence. All because it will be "justified", because Kiara is a "bad person" or "untrustworthy" or "fake". Whatever. Y'all can stick to Olivia The Black Hole and babysit Madeleine and Penelope, I guess. Kiara always deserved better than these writers and most of this fandom anyway.

[knightofameris]

an outstanding performance — marvel (stark!reader)

Setting: an AU where Peter never quit band and Michelle, Flash, and others are also in band, platonic fic!!! Gender: Neutral! Contains: fluff Word Count: 3.7k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY HOLY SHIT)

Summary: Being Tony’s kid meant everyone expected you to be some prodigy in some way. And you were—a musical prodigy at least. The last year of marching band was approaching and you’re definitely gonna be heartbroken. But as long as you had Peter, Ned, and MJ by your side it’ll all be okay

a/n: I wanted to pump something out since I haven’t posted and I’ve always wanted to write something with Peter in band because I WAS A BAND KID IN HIGH SCHOOL. So. It’s also not my best work but I had fun because i reALLY MISS BAND. AND THIS IS JUST A COMFORT FIC FOR ME TBH LMAO [repost from my old account @knightofmarvel​]

There’s a lot of band terms that I don’t think people will understand unless you were a band kid so here’s a little… mini explanation. This is what I used for my band by the way.

Sound off = just be louder I guess? Met = metronome The box = the area in the stadium where the announcer is always in Trumpet, mellophone, baritone/euphonium, tuba = brass instruments Flute, clarinet, alto sax, tenor sax, bari sax, bass clarinet = woodwind instruments Percussion = anything you can hit with a stick basically (including piano because piano keys control something that hits the string) Guard/color guard = the people who spin flags, sabers, and rifles. They also toss it in the air and do other crazy shit (deadass, guard people were so badass i dont get why people called them discount cheerleaders when guard works just has hard, if not harder. like u try tossing a fucking rifle up in the air. this girl legitimately went an entire show after splitting her brow causing her to bleed horribly and finished smiling soooo) Drum majors = people who conduct and is also basically in charge of the entire band Reps = doing something over and over, usually a certain exercise in music or marching technique or a certain part(s) of the show Set = Can mean multiple things, either a certain part of the show or getting ready for the rep they’re about to do (usually shown by holding the instrument up in “set” position) Stand-by = relaxed but still in attention Holding at pistol/rifle = more relaxed but usually saved in show or when instructors/whoever tells stories. Different instruments have different positions thus the pistol/rifle Horns up = instrument in mouth Horns down = instrument not in mouth, same position as Set.

Let me know if there are any mistakes!  **no beta, we die like men

Enjoy! 

“Senior year boyyysssssssss!” You screamed once you entered campus that warm summer morning. Ned and Peter turned around to see you running towards them, about to tackle them. Other band leaders, and especially the senior drum majors, cheered with you.

Ned and Peter, however, did not.

Instead, their eyes widened in fear and they raised their arms up, telling you to not jump at them. But alas, it was too late and you tackled them to the ground.

“Dog pile!” Someone, Adam (one of the drum majors) probably, shouted. And one by one, a group of your fellow bandmates fell on top of you. Each one of them caused you to let out a breath. Peter and Ned taking the brute of it.

“Alright alright, you idiots,” your band directed teased. You all looked up to see Mrs. Ha standing there with her hands on her hips. “Get up, you guys are scaring the freshmen.” She glanced over to the bandroom door where tiny heads were sticking out.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, everyone starting to stand up off of each other. You raised both of your hands down for Peter and Ned, they both took it and you helped them up.

“Damn, (Y/n), why’d you have to do that?” Ned asked. He then reached down for his hat. Something that was mandatory for all band members to wear during practice. Especially during band camp in the summer.

“It’s tradition!” You cheered, wrapping your arm around each of their neck. “Can you guys believe it? We’re seniors.”

“Yeah, and you’re woodwind captain man,”  Peter nudged you in the side.

You grinned and then walked in front of them to grab your backpack, clarinet case, and water jug. You turned around once they were all in hand. “Yeah, but at least I got my two trusty section leaders to lead with me.”

“What about me?”

The three of you turned around to see MJ with her hand on her hip. She had a slight smirk on her face.

“Uh,” you started to say, “to be fair, you’re in the brass section.”

“You could have switched,” MJ retorted, walking up to you and lightly punching you in the shoulder.

And you could have. Afterall, you were a musical prodigy. Especially considering the fact that you were the kid of Tony Stark. You didn’t have much of a knack for STEM, decent at it but only when you put in the extra work to the point of stress. But you had a knack for music.

Your dad noticed your gravitation towards music when you were a toddler and when you didn’t enjoy being in the lab as much as he thought you would have been, as a Stark. But you enjoyed music so he signed you up for piano classes. Then you wanted to learn more instruments and made your way through the wind instruments and then more percussion instruments. From flute to clarinet to alto saxophone, from trumpet to french horn, to, of course, piano and the drumset. You had a lot of range. The clarinet being your favorite instrument to play.

You narrowed your eyes at MJ, “But then you wouldn’t have been brass captain. And do you think I can leave the woodwinds to be left in charge by these losers?” You pointed to Peter and Ned.

“Hey!” They both protested.

“Guys! Roll call is soon and they’re introducing all the leaders to the entire band,” Adam said, holding the metronome in his hand.

“Yeah, got it,” You and Michelle said, both with a slight authoritative tone in your guys’ voice. You both exchanged glances with a raised brow.

“Wow, the captain in you guys is really coming out,” Peter teased. You both rolled your eyes. You went to go walk beside Michelle. On the way into the bandroom.

“Oh man, I just hope I don’t accidentally make a freshman pee their pants this year.” You walked straight into the bandroom and Peter laughed, remembering that clearly last year when you were section leader.

“I just don’t want to do running block,” Ned complained, trudging behind you. “I hate band camp.”

“Ditto,” MJ remarked. Peter shot her a look.

“Shouldn’t you be hyping it up, for the freshmen?”

MJ shrugged, “Yeah, but I can complain to you guys.”

“Fair enough.”

***

“Sound off guys!” You shouted as the band did reps across the field in across-the-floors. In a moment, the voices of the members got louder, counting in time with the met. You looked around yourself, making sure there were no members dicking around too much. With it being so far into the marching season already, you didn’t want any of them to dick around so much where they’d regret it if your guys’ band didn’t perform to the best of your ability at your last competitions.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he prepped to step off on the other side. He stuck his tongue out then faced forward with his clarinet in hand. His mouth moving with his voice being just loud enough to be heard as he began to count off. He was the backline with three other freshmen near him who didn’t count at all. All three of them clarinets as well.

You called out their names, telling them to sound off until one of the visual instructors cut the metronome. Peter continued, trying to keep time without it loud enough for the freshmen to stay with him.

“Alright, stop!” The instructor, Alicia, shouted. Peter stopped, relaxing his arms and putting his clarinet in his hand with standby. The entire band stared at him in silence, waiting for what he had to say. “We have three more competitions to go. One more football game. And then we have Grand Nationals. We’ve been doing this since June. It’s October! I’m doing all I can to push you guys, it doesn’t matter if you’re a freshman anymore. You’ve been in this program so you know what we expect. In the end, it’s up to all of you guys how bad you want it. Do you guys want to make finals?”

A chorus of yeah’s came from the students. Something caught your eye as the instructor continued to talk. Flash was dicking around, mocking the instructor and when the instructor was quiet you called him out.

“Hey Flash, why don’t you run a lap?” You asked. Lucky you, he was an alto saxophone, so completely in your control.

“Wh-What? Why? I didn’t do anything,” Flash argued. You raised a brow.

“Oh really? So you weren’t even listening to Alicia as she was talking?” You retorted. “You said you weren’t doing anything right? I guess that’s still a lap.” Someone next to him nudged him, telling him not to argue and he groaned.

He walked off to the side, setting his instrument down.

“Next time, don’t mock her when she’s trying to help us. Especially since you’re the only senior who doesn’t sound off.” Flash glared at you while you kept a smirk on your face.

He murmured, “Fucking Stark.” Then went off into the run. That’ll earn him a talk after practice.

“Thanks, (Y/n),” Alicia said, shooting you a smile. You gave her a nod

Percussion and color guard began walking into the stadium and prepped to practice with the rest of the band.

“Alright, I’ll cut this rep short, go grab a gush and wait for instructions,” Alicia ordered. The teenagers began to run off the field and towards their water jugs were with their own section.

“I don’t get why Flash is even more annoying,” Peter muttered. You and Peter watched Flash continue to run around the track as you drank water from your jug.

“It’s probably because he didn’t get any leadership position,” Cindy suggested. She stood next to you two, also a clarinet section leader.

“Yeah, well, Ned deserved the alto sax position,” you said. “Not Flash, he’s an asshole.” The other two nodded their heads.

A high pitched whining noise came from the box and everyone flinched and groaned, staring up at it.

“Oh, sorry guys,” the band director, Mrs. Ha, said. “Hornline captains, lead the warm up for your section. Mr. C and I won’t have enough time this practice.”

You turned to face your section, calling out to them and raising your instrument in the air. You led them to wear the respective drum major that conducted for the woodwinds for warm up stood on her podium. Everyone was wetting their reeds in their mouth, save for the flute players who stood in arc warming up their instrument. The reed players began placing their reeds on their mouth pieces, then also warming it up a bit. You walked around, talking to a few of the leaders here and there. Then walking up to one of the seniors in the clarinet section and making them center while also handing them a tuner for later.

With a wave of your hand and your fist closing, everyone stopped playing.

“Stand-by,” you called out. Each member stopped fidgeting and their ears looked to you attentively. “Set!”

In a ripple effect from the edge of the arc to the center, everyone brought their horns up. You smirked. “Nice job guys, we’ve come a long way since freshman band camp. Same warm up, make sure to watch the hands.” You pointed up to the drum major, Kay, who stood on top of the podium.

“Stand-by,” she called out once more. “Doing the woodwind warm up and make sure to watch my hands. Set!”

The rest of practice went by smoothly. The drum majors standing on the podium, instructors up in the box telling instructions through a mic for the head drum major to repeat. The entire band doing what was told. Parents sat in the stands watching their kids practice.

You could have sworn you saw your dad and a few others in the stands that practice. But you paid it no mind, he’d usually come to competitions but he had never gone to a practice.

So when practice was over and the band was dismissed, you, Peter, Ned, and MJ began to set back to the bandroom after all the underclassmen cleared out from the stadium. And after you gave Flash another stern talking about attitude and disrespecting instructors and leaders. Which led to him running a lap and then doing push-ups.

You and MJ were pushing the huge water jugs back as well, all of your stuff riding on the bottom of the cart with MJ’s. All four of you were joking around when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey kid!”

You jolted, turning around to see your dad standing there with Morgan on his shoulders. Rhodey, Pepper, Steve, and Natasha stood next to him, all of them with a smile on their face.

“Dad!” You called out, letting go of the cart and running up to him. Tony quickly set Morgan down and you hugged him. He let out an ‘oof’ on impact but hugged you back. “You’ve never came to practice before!”

“Well, I thought I should,” Tony said, kissing the top of your head. “You stink.” You tore away from him, laughing when you noticed his scrunched up face.

“Yeah, my hat’s kinda gross from practice.”

You turned to face Morgan and picked her up, setting her on your hip. You looked at the others, “Why are you guys here.”

“Got bored,” Rhodey answered. “Then thought, we might as well see what the musical Stark was up to.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re so cool, (Y/n)!” Morgan hugged you around your neck. “But scary. Just like mommy!” Your dad and you chortled with laughter and Pepper shook her head, grabbing her out of your arms.  

“Yeah, you yelled at that kid for a good ten minutes,” Nat said. “Good job.”

“I’m surprised,” Steve spoke up. “I didn’t realize marching band was modeled after the military bands until Rhodey told me.”

“Yeah, you never came to one of my shows,” you playfully glared at him. But you began laughing and hit him lightly. “I’m kidding, you guys are always busy. But-” you looked at them, hopeful “-my last football game is this Friday. Then three more local competitions until Grand Nats in Indiana.”

The adults exchanged glances with each other.

“Well, you know Pep and I will be at Grand Nats,” Tony said, ruffling your hair.

“And me!” Morgan added.

“And Morgan,” Tony laughed.

“We’ll… Try.” Steve scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, (Y/n).”

“It’s cool,” you replied nonchalantly. “You guys are Avengers, other priorities.”

“Not to interrupt, but your friend looks like she’s struggling with the jugs.” Rhodey pointed behind you, and you saw MJ trying to push the jugs over a whole in the ground. Peter and Ned stood there, laughing at her. Your eyes widened and you bolted over to her after passing Morgan to your dad.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

***

The band sat in the stands, playing pep tunes whenever they were supposed to while the football game went on. You, of course, were dicking around with Peter and Ned. Ned sat behind you with his section and you sat beside Peter on the edge. MJ was far off in brassland, reading a book since she hated her section. She really hated trumpets.

Then the drum majors motioned to the saxes that they could do their thing and Ned stood up, ushering his section to stand up as well. You smiled, as this was one of your favorite traditions during football games.

Ned played the first note, and everyone following after. The tune of ‘Beautiful Girl’/’Stand By Me’ leaving the horns. There were a few pitch problems, but it’s not like it was a competition. Football games were always one to just relax, have fun, and do dumb shit.

Mrs. Ha even watched with a smile on her face.

“How do you think MJ’s faring?” You asked Peter. He looked back.

“Still reading her book,” he replied. “Dude, this is the last time we’re ever gonna hear Stand By me.”

You shoved Peter, “Bruh, don’t talk about it! I’m gonna cry.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “This is the last time we wear our uniform for a football game.”

“Peter!”

Peter laughed, raising his arms up in the air to block you from trying to smack him.

“Man, I’ll just do Drum Corps or whatever after this,” you muttered after giving up on hitting Peter.

“You could, that’d be badass,” Peter said. “Maybe do like percussion like tenor drums or something.”

You nodded your head, “I totally should. I’m gonna miss band a lot.”

“Me too,” Peter sighed. “But at least we can focus more on our other extracurriculars.”

You raised a brow at him. “You mean your internship?” Peter nodded his head. “You should’ve just quit band man.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, but band is fun and you’re still in it with your internship. Though, I think MJ would have found out a lot sooner if I did though.”  You laughed, remembering how MJ was only slightly thrown off on Peter possibly being Spider-Man because of how he was able to be in band and a superhero. Though the same applied to you

“Okay, sure, but I don’t do missions on season, and I fight crime a little less,” you retorted. He laughed again at you, eyes filled with amazement. You were cheering at the football team, not that you knew what was going on. Just, everyone else was cheering plus it was fun.

Peter was always amazed at how smoothly you fit into the leader role, something that would put you at an advantage if you ever led the Avengers in the near future. It definitely helped when you led groups in missions or when none of the older adults were around in times of crises. Then whenever a freshman was upset or a band member got injured on the field, you always somehow ended up right next to them. Even tripping while running across the field but falling into a roll then jumping back up, then carrying said injured member off the field to make sure they were okay.

He laughed to himself, remembering each moment he shared with you and all the other band members. He’s going to miss it a lot, but he knew you’d miss it even more.

***

The sounds of cheering, the rush of adrenaline, the musical notes and perfect harmonies accompanying the melody reverberated throughout the stadium. Then when the last note came out of your horn and everyone snapped their horns down, panting and sweat glimmering on everyone’s forehead, you smiled. You started almost laughing with tears coming down your face.

You enjoyed jumping off buildings to feel the adrenaline and going through the city but that could never compare to performing. Especially considering all the hard work you, and the entire band, put in for this particular moment. Your smile widened even more when you saw both of the senior drum majors on the podium in front of you also smiling, panting, but tears in their eyes.

Then the bass drum hit and in time with the beat, the members marched off the field or went to their respective prop to push it off the field. You were part of the latter, meeting up with Peter at the same prop.

He flashed you a smile, “Don’t cry yet (Y/n), we gotta wait before the senior traditions.” Then you only started crying more when you realized you wouldn’t be on the receiving end anymore. You would be the senior participating in said traditions. You wiped the tears off with your gloves.

“Shut up, Peter,” you laughed. “I can’t help it, we made it into finals. That was our final performance.”

“Was it your best performance?” Peter asked. You just started bawling more, nodding your head. At this point you weren’t even pushing the prop, but you knew Peter didn’t even need help, being Spider-Man and all. “Then that’s all that matters.”

When the entire band made it out in the -5 degree cold air, putting their instruments away and giving the props to the band dads to put away, you finally stopped crying. Mostly because tears in this weather was always an ass with how cold it is, especially considering the uniform doesn’t give you any warmth. Before your band director could round everyone up to talk about how it was the best performance your band had ever performed this year, that it didn’t matter what place you got, you felt a small body wrap around your legs.

“(Y/n)!!”

“Mo! What are you doing?” You asked, picking her up into your arms. She was bundled in warm clothing and you saw your dad and Pepper. Then even in the distance, you saw the Avengers which made you beam.

“That was great,” your dad said, kissing the top of your head.

“Wait! No PDA in uniform.” you took a small step back. He rolled his eyes. “Kidding, I don’t care anymore. Thanks dad.” He ruffled your hair the moment you gave your shako (hat) for Morgan to hold.

“Yeah, honey, even your solo was amazing,” Pepper said, fixing your hair then kissing the top of your head.

“It was…” Morgan paused, her face scrunching as she went deep in thought. “An outstanding performance!” Morgan cheered, hugging you tightly. You, Tony, and Pepper exchanged glances.

With a raised brow, you asked, “Where’d she learn those words?”

“No clue.” Tony shrugged. Then he grabbed his dad-bag and pulled out a few cards and even small gifts. “By the way, this is from everyone. They’ll come stop by to say hi but after they have a mission to get to.”

A small smile made its way on your face and you even started crying again. Tony wrapped an arm around your shoulder, rubbing your arm up and down. Morgan held onto you even tighter and Pepper placed a comforting hand on your hand.

“Thank you for coming, I’m gonna miss this so much,” you sniffled. Looking around you at your bandmates and all the joyful tears being shed, the hugs, the laughter. None of them were even staring at your dad in this moment because of the last performance. Which says a lot. Well, save for a few but it didn’t matter.

“I know,” your dad said softly. “But you got to experience it and I am so proud of you, (Y/n). Section leader and then woodwind captain? Amazing. I can barely play piano for the life of me.”

You chuckled, “I can’t code for the life of me.”

“But one thing’s for certain,” Pepper said. “Starks are always a natural for their passions.”

Your band director called for everyone to gather around to give them one last after-performance talk for the end of the season. You stood next to MJ, Peter, and Ned. Some of you with tears in your eyes, but all of you with a sense of satisfaction coursing through you. Four years of band was difficult, but you all made due with each other.

You glanced back, towards your family and the other Avengers and you were so happy to know that there on the field, you knew they were all watching. They all supported you through your musical career and would never stop.

Then the drum majors dismissed all of you and you turned to try to talk to your family once more, even making eye contact with Steve until all the freshmen and other underclassmen bombarded you with hugs and being all teary eyed.

“Hey, don’t worry about it guys,” you mentioned, looking at Peter, Ned, and MJ, trying to get them to help you out, “I’ll be doing drumline this year, I’ll still hang ‘round the bandroom.”

Tony chuckled, watching you talk to the younger teenagers and hugging each of them. He was proud of you, no doubt about it.

[dalamjisung]

what you want, part two ❋ bambam

word count: 3735

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

pairing: reader x bambam

description: you finally get the whole truth. is it what you were expecting?

[tag: @thelaptopmarkthrewatbambam @letowolfie @thecozywhaleshark @thicthighsenpai @silentiona @sydnikkishields @hope-ji​ ]

You wake up with your head pounding– once again. It’s been weeks of this, now; you go to parties to find BamBam, and when he refuses to talk to you, again, you drink to forget, and you never do. You remember everything; from the frown in his face, to the tone of his voice. Go away, Y/N, enough is enough. You remember Jackson’s disappointed face as he pulled you away once again, and Yugyeom frustrated whines as he runs after his friend. It’s been almost three weeks of this; you chase parties to chase BamBam, but in the end you chase red solo cups with tiny shot glasses, to wake up the next day feeling completely useless and shattered. In these three weeks, you’ve failed your first test. You skipped your first class and you’ve gotten your first hangover. It felt like you were living your teenage years in days– and it felt fucking awful.

His jacket still hangs on the back of your door, the sequins and golden details sometimes catching the light seeping in from the outside and shinning the room with a sad glow. It makes you think of him every time it happens– how you wished he was there, laying next to you, and pointing at the random shapes of the reflections; this one looks like a duck, you wish he’d say. And that one like a dog. Ah! That one looks like my cat, Latte! 

A tear is what brings you back to reality, eyes moving away from that forsaken jacket. You are back into your routine; wake up, cry, attempt homework, give up, go back to sleep until someone texts you about a party. You are halfway through last week’s work when your doorbell rings, but you ignore it. The terror of late work and decreasing grades looms over you, wighting your shoulders down, and fogging your mind; it is a problem that bothers you, but you can’t find it within yourself to do anything about it. 

This should be easy– at least for you. You received a letter from the dean’s office about the risk of loosing your scholarship and you cried that day, but you still did absolutely nothing about it– nothing besides call Youngjae and cry while listening to him sing soft lullabies. You fell asleep to your friend’s voice that night, promising a better future; you are tired of those promises. 

BamBam hates you and that’s a fact. He won’t even talk to you, and you wonder if that’s what he felt when things were the other way around. Did he hurt like this, too? Did he cry? If he did, you won’t be able to live with yourself. 

Your eyes dart to the clock on your wall and you see that it is almost time for your class… the one you’ve been skipping for three weeks. You emailed the professor about a different fake sickness each time, and being class rep. and all, he doesn’t argue with you because you still do your duties towards the class even though it is from your living room. This position means a lot to you, and if you are being honest, it is the only thing that you are hanging onto.

“Y/N!”

That position and Jackson. 

“Y/N, I know you are in there,” And Jinyoung. “Open up!”

You shuffle to the door, opening it slightly, before sighing and giving the boys space to walk inside. 

“Hey, guys,” You mumble, voice weak and embarrassed. Your apartment looks generally clean, but that is because you have been barely eating anything. “What’s up?”

“Get dressed,” Jackson says and his voice booms in the empty room. “You have class in 20 minutes and you are not skipping again. You’ve missed three classes already…”

“I’m not feeling well, Jacks,” You sigh, looking at your feet. “I think I might hang back–“

“Stop that!” Jinyoung shouts, and you recoil. During the entirety of your friendship with Jinyoung, you’ve never heard him shout before, specially not at you. “Just fucking stop, oh my god, Y/N… We get it, you are hurt, but this is ridiculous! You are putting BamBam in front of your studies– you are not this girl! This is seriously affecting your grades; what the fuck are you doing, huh?”

“I-“

“Don’t even try to come up with an excuse,” He continues, looking at you through angry eyes. “This whole partying and getting drunk thing is not you. This whole skipping class and missing work is not you. What are you doing?”

“Maybe ‘me’ sucks,” You snap. “Have you thought about that? ‘Me’ is a judgmental bitch that hurts people and only thinks about herself, and honestly, fuck that. I don’t want to be ‘me’ if being ‘me’ means not giving a shit about anyone else!”

Your breathing is harsh and shallow, and Jackson takes a step towards you.

“I’m done with that shit, Jinyoung,” You whisper, shoulders falling in defeat. 

“Okay, you need to listen to me,” Jackson grabs you by the shoulders gently. “Y/N, we all make mistakes, and it’s not going to be that one mistake that will define you– we won’t allow that. Your Y/N is not a judgmental bitch or a selfish person… she is so selfless it is actually annoying. She is stubborn as a mule and she doesn’t back down from a challenge, even if she might get hurt. And that is the only reason why you are still trying to make things right with BamBam. So don’t say that; don’t say ‘you’ are not enough, because you are so much more.”

You sit down on the couch, allowing Jinyoung to embrace you. 

“Things are hard right now,” Jackson continues. “Not just for you, but life goes on, love. So let’s go on, too. We’re here to help you with whatever you need… we can start slow, yeah? Get dressed. After that, get out. After that, make it to class in time; and so on and so forth. Do you think we can do it?”

You nod.

“Great,” Jinyoung smiles. “Go get dressed. We’re taking you to class.”

                                                    -----------------------------

Jackson’s method works until you get to the classroom. Jinyoung is whispering encouraging things as you walk past the doors and sit in your usual seat. People look and smile at you, and everything is fine and well until you see him. 

BamBam looks better than ever. His hair is slicked back and it shows his cheekbones. His lips, stretched in a smile, are plump and inviting and you have to hold yourself back to not run to him. You notice you are staring and you shake your head, forcing yourself to focus in the professor walking into the room. The class starts and you are back to it, taking notes and nodding along as you understand the information being relayed. When the class ends, you have a smile on your face, the first in weeks– you’ve missed this. You are in your environment and you feel as if a flame had been reignited inside of you. This was your passion and you were stupid to even try to let it pass by you. 

“How was it?” Youngjae asks as he walks with you to the cafeteria. “Was it hard?”

“It was… amazing,” You smile, wide, and his eyes follow. “I missed this, Youngjae. A lot. And I already talked to my professor and she said I could make up my absence with some extra work…”

“That’s great, Y/N!” He hugs you, laughing as you squeal in happiness. “Our little nerd is back!”

“Not completely,” You smile brightly. “And I think that’s good. It’s time for change.” He nods with you and you two mindlessly talk about your extra work.

“I understand most of the topics I missed because I studied them beforehand,” You chuckle a little embarrassed about admitting it out loud. “But there is this one topic I’m struggling with a little bit.”

“Is there anyone you can ask for help?” Youngjae asks, frowning. You are always the first one to help everyone out, there must be someone that can help you too.

You look at him and you know what you have to do.

“Actually,” You wonder. “Yes, there is.”

You find Yugyeom at the same cafe you met him before, and thankfully, he’s alone. He has his head down, reading from some book you don’t recognize, and you try your best not to scare him.

“Hi,” You call softly and he slowly looks at you, before his eyes go wide in recognition. You point at the chair in front of his. “Do you mind?”

He shakes his head. “Go ahed, class rep.”

“Uh, I know this might be awkward for you and please feel free to say no, but… do you think you could help me?”

Yugyeom sighs. “I already told you, Y/N, BamBam is my best friend and you–“

“No no no,” You blush, desperately shaking your hands in a futile attempt to stop this conversation from happening. “Not about that. I wouldn’t want to put you in the middle of that… complication.”

“With what then?” 

“I was away for a bit,” You cough, uncomfortable with your words. “And I missed a lot, but fortunately I got most of the subject pretty quickly– except for this one topic.”

You offer him your notebook with some random notes and he nods, humming as he flipped the pages.

“As I said, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or to put you in the middle of something like this,” You sigh. “But I was wondering if you could help me out? I’m really struggling and–“

“Sure.”

You look at him again, mouth agape in surprise. “Really?!”

“Yeah,” He nods. “I can help you.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much Yugyeom, you have no idea what this means to me.”

“On one condition,” He says, eyes in slits, as if measuring you up.

“Anything!” You squeal, happy to be finally feeling like yourself again. With changes, you think. Good changes.

“Stop doing whatever you are doing.”

“What do you mean?” You speak slowly and carefully, because you know what’s coming.

“With BamBam,” He sighs. “Just stop. Things are not… good, right now. And BamBam deserves ‘good.’ He really does. So please, stop.”

You smile. “He really does,” You agree. “And you are really good Yugyeom. I can’t promise to give up on BamBam– that’s no how it works, Yugy. But I do promise that I’ll never hurt him again… I think I can keep that promise, don’t you?”

Yugyeom smiles, enough so that he doesn’t look intimidating anymore, but back to his baby face. “I think you can, class rep. I’m counting on you.”

“And I’m,” You start, pushing the material towards the tall boy. “Counting on you.”

He laughs and you two get to it. Within the hour, you feel better. You are understanding the topic and therefore, understanding the whole class. Yugyeom makes jokes as you two study and you feel like things are finally going back to normal. A new normal, at least.

“Y/N, I have to go,” He pouts. “I have class soon, but why don’t we meet tomorrow? I can test you on the topic then.”

“Perfect,” You say, yawning a little. “Same place, same time?”

He nods and runs out of the cafe. 

On your way home, you can’t help but think back to Yugyeom’s words. He deserves ‘good.’  You close your eyes and deep down you know; it’s time to let go. 

                                                   -----------------------------

The next morning, you wake up with a renewed purpose. You clean the small mess in your room and vacuum the empty floors of your apartment. You take a shower and get ready, even though your class is four hours; it was time to get back to yourself. 

You spend the day at the library finishing the homework you forgot about. After that, you finish the homework for the week, and you attempt the homework due next week. You get into a rhythm so good you barely notice the clock ticking, and soon, you are on your way to class. People are glad to see you back in the classroom– they make a point of telling you that,– and you smile, realizing that you’ve made friends without noticing. Sure, the drinking and partying weren’t the best way to deal with everything, but you have to admit that it was fun when it wasn’t sad. You talked to more people in your classes then you did the whole semester and you’ve realized that all you had to do was reach out and be open for those who are reaching out, too.

You text Yugyeom once you are out of class telling him you’ll be a couple of minutes late, having to run to your place to grab something before meeting up. It’s still in the back of your door, shinning in the way you like it, and you offer it a peaceful smile– you’ll miss this jacket. With careful hands, you carry it all the way to the cafe, a bounce on your step indicating nothing short of relief. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Yugyeom shouts and waves as if you could miss his 6 foot ass. “Over here!”

You laugh a little at his excitement and you make your way over, smiling when he hugs you hello. 

“Are you ready for the final test, Miss Y/L/N?” He asks in all seriousness.

“I am, Professor Kim.”

You finish the whole worksheet in about thirty minutes, and you ace it. But you don’t leave just yet; you stay and chat and laugh with Kim Yugyeom, just like he once wanted. Friends, you think, chuckling at a funny face he pulls. I’m sorry Yugy.

“Yugy,” You say once he quiets down. “I want to give you something.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head to the side, like a curious puppy. 

“Here,” You give him the jacket that has been sitting next to you all this time. He seems to recognize it instantly, grabbing it and looking at you with incredulous eyes. “You were right. BamBam deserves good. And I think I do, too. And I know I promised you we’d be friends once this whole mess got resolved, but I don’t think this is happening… I’m sorry Yugyeom.”

“Ya,” He begs, brows furrowed in agony. “You said you weren’t giving up on him. You promised!”

“I’m not,” You smile, putting your things inside your bag. “I’m just… moving on.”

“Is that what you want, Y/N?”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” You say and it feels as poisonous in your tongue as you thought it would. “This is about what he wants. And I would still love to be your friend but–“

“You are my friend, Y/N,” He smiles and it feels oddly like a goodbye. “You always were my friend. You are a good person, class rep., don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

“Harder said than done,” You wink. “Bye Yugy. See you when I see you.”

You are almost at the door when he shouts again.

“He told Jackson.”

You turn around. “What?”

“Jackson only knew about you skipping class because he told him,” Yugyeom looks nervous. “BamBam.”

“What are you talking about?” This is supposed to be done. You gave him the jacket back, you were supposed to be done. 

“BamBam might’ve not wanted to talk to you, but that’s because he is a proud idiot,” Yugyeom confesses. “He’s been having a really hard time. He regrets letting you go, Y/N, but he thinks it was what you wanted.”

“What?!” You shriek.

“He asked Jackson to go check up on you because you were missing class. He talked to the professors about extra credit work before you even had the chance to,” Yugyeom laughs at your face. “And he asked me to help you with studying. You might think he doesn’t care, but he does. That’s just how BamBam is.”

Your mouth hangs open. 

“Ask me,” Yugyeom challenges you, stepping closer. “Come on, ask me.”

“Where is he?” You breath out, heart racing wildly. 

“At our place,” He scribbles something on your arm– an address. “Go talk to him. You are good.”

“Thank you!” You hug him and sprint. 

You never even think about the jacket you left with Yugyeom. 

                                                   -----------------------------

You knock on the door so desperately that you are afraid of waking up neighbors, but it’s a necessary evil. You have to talk to him. 

“Coming!”

Oh my, how you missed his voice. You hear some stumbling inside the apartment and soon the door is wide open, and you suddenly don’t miss him that much anymore. Not when he has puffy eyes and a tired voice. 

“Bam,” You sigh, surprised he even opened the door. “What happened?”

“What are you doing here?” He sniffles, looking down as a way to hide your face. “I thought I made it very clear that–“

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave him off, waling inside and facing him again. “Whatever. What happened?”

“Uh,” He frowns and swallows, and you know he is emotional. “Nothing. You should go, Y/N, I have stuff to do.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” You shrug, sitting down on the couch. “Until you talk to me.”

He gasps. “I can call the cops. This is technically breaking and entering…”

“Then do it,” You said, eyes set in slits, measuring him, challenging him. “If you want to.”

“What are you talking about?” He blushes, mumbling his words out. “Have you gone insane?”

“I must have,” You say, and you start to feel it; the anger, the hurt, the sadness– everything comes back to you. “Because let time we talked, you couldn’t even look me in the face. You refused to listen to me, talk to me, anything related to me– and suddenly, there I am, giving your jacket back to Yugyeom because I was finally fucking ready and he tells me the most interesting thing.”

“You gave him my jacket back?” He whispers, seemingly shocked. You ignore him and keep going.

“He proceeds to tell me this very elaborate story about how you were the one responsible for Jackson getting me to class yesterday ,” You are on a roll, taking steps closer to him with each word. “And how you were the one responsible for me getting that extra credit work; and even how you asked him to help me. What the hell BamBam? What is your game here? Because I was ready to do what you wanted and leave you the hell alone, but suddenly this happens and I–“

“You think that’s what I want?!” He screeches, arms flapping around. “I don’t want you gone, Y/N!”

“Well, there you go– I’m confused,” You groan. You are just a few centimeters away from him and there are so many emotions that you can just see in his eyes– the most present one was despair. “You kept pushing me away, BamBam. I tried– I tried so many fucking times!”

“I thought that was what you wanted!” He shouts. “After that first party I regretted it… so badly. But you were hurt and the hyungs were angry and I just didn’t want to hurt you anymore. You were partying like crazy, and you were drinking insane amounts and I was worried!”

“I was worried, too,” You say, covering your mouth with your hand, as if that wasn’t supposed to slip past your lips. “I was so worried about you, BamBam. About us.”

“Us?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Yes, you idiot,” Grabbing his hands, you sit with him on the couch, facing each other. “Us. I was wrong and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you like that and I am so, so sorry. But I see you now; I see you, BamBam– and yes, it took me a while and I was dumb and stupid and I didn’t really know what you wanted and–“

His mouth finds yours before you can stop talking and his lips are exactly how you thought they’d be– soft and plump. His mouth moves quickly over yours; it demands things from you– adoration, love, lust. His hands, one on your waist and the other on your hair, lead you, because right now, he is not willing to give doubt any space. No more misunderstanding. No more cross-wired thoughts. No more wasting time. He would always have you close, too close, even, just to be sure. His heart beats with yours– out of rhythm and too fast. BamBam leans over you, making you lay down on the couch, and laying over you. This is not lust anymore, it’s not love, either. It is hunger. He’s waited long enough, so now it is time to take it. 

“We still… ah, Bam, we have–“

“Talk later,” He groans. “This now.”

“No,” You laugh. “Talk now. This later.”

“Y/N,” He whines and hides his face on your neck. “Please…”

“Not until we’re 100%,” You say giving him a peck on the lips.

“We are!”

“No, we aren’t,” You place a piece of his hair back in place and push him off of you. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me anymore. Is that what you want?”

“… yes. No. Yes– not just that, but that included, yes.”

“Bam,” His name sounded like the most beautiful song coming out of your mouth. “I’m going to ask you for the last time.”

He nods. 

“What do you want, BamBam?” 

His eyes shine with tears and you have to hold yourself back. This time, this would be on him– the way he wanted. 

“I want people to take me seriously,” He gasps, finally allowing himself to say it. “I want people to stop looking at me as if I have it easy because they don’t know half of it. I want to be recognized for what I am– a man with big dreams and high ambition. And I want you. I want you to take yourself seriously; I want you to recognize your potential and see that you are much more than class rep. You are much more than what you limit yourself to be! I want you, Y/N. I want you, and I want it all.”

You smile, relived that now, it was over. But it also just started.

“Then come and get it.”

-----------------------------

well. hello. this was intense. I have to say, I love this sequel! What do you wall think? This has been my most awaited fic ever, so I really hope you all liked it :P Let me know! Your comments and support mean the world ❤️

[jovialjudgebonkalmond]

Inevitable, Ch 2

Once again, obvious disclaimer, I don’t own the characters or universe in which the story takes place - yes internet I am that old, thank you.

Summary: Monty is alive, in jail. A recounting of his experiences and memories and basically all those flashbacks we weren’t given in season 4 that I am butthurt about. It is AU in the sense that he is still alive whilst Clay & Co are attempting to frame him for Bryce’s murder. Obvious spoiler alerts if you haven’t seen season 4.

Pairings will be Monty x Winston mainly. So far this is all from Monty’s POV but that may change down the line.

Warnings include violence, sex, drug use, rape, murder, and basically everything graphic and bad you can imagine. Will absolutely contain smut. Oh, and swearing. This chapter has the added benefit of mention’s of suicide (but given the show’s content I’m sure you saw this coming?), and also domestic abuse/child abuse. Oh and homophobic slurs.

Obligatory reminder: This is from Monty’s point of view. Clearly he didn’t view his actions with the totality of how devastatingly monsterous they were. I condemn his actions, he’s a rapist and deserved jail time. As we saw in s3 and in snippets of s4 he didn’t share that point of view. I think Monty is a dynamic character that’s interesting and I relate a lot to his back story. That’s why I was motivated to write this.

Ch 2 word count: 5,554 words (sorry not sorry guys)

Monty braced his hands on the edges of the tiny stainless steel sink, squinting as he gazed into the grimy sheet of metal bolted to the wall that was supposed to function as a mirror. He could see a blur of his skin, and the orange of his  shirt...and that was it. His face was throbbing and he couldn't eat his breakfast. "Fuck." He muttered to himself, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. He held his breath, his aching ribs adding to the cacophony of pain of his head and hand. His hand was swollen across his knuckles and stiff, the muscles in his right arm trembling just with the effort of hanging on to the sink. He reached up with his left hand and ran it over his jaw. It, too, was swollen. He opened his mouth as wide as he could, gripping his molars with his fingers and placing his thumbs at the base of his jaw. His body shuddered and his stomach growled loudly.

I know, we're gonna fix this.

He jerked his jaw down, over, and then up in a swift, fluid motion. It made a sickeningly loud pop and Monty held back a retch, his body going from hot to cold as he felt his adrenaline pounding through his veins uncontrolled. He took a few choking, deep breaths and began to pace in a small circle, breathing hard through his nose. He dropped to the floor gracefully into a plank position as he had a thousand times for football drills, braced himself on his hands while his broken knuckles screamed at him. He lowered himself to the floor and sucked in a deep breath, his nose almost grazing the concrete. He exhaled and pushed up, hearing his ribs crack loudly as they shifted. They felt wrong inside of him, like they didn't fit where they belonged and it made it hard to breathe. He inhaled and lowered himself again, pushing through the pain. He felt powerless. He carried on, not counting reps as he picked up a smooth and even pace.  He was lost inside himself, no concept of time passing. There were no clocks, save for the one on the microwave in the common room and he wasn't there right now. 

"Your mother, she hasn't stopped crying since they pick you up." His father stated with a heavy accent.He felt a pang of shame in his chest and closed his eyes for a moment, the shackles hanging like a dead weight off his wrists. He swallowed hard, his throat feeling suddenly dry and tight.

"I'm sorry." he said thickly, his back stiff. His fear felt alive inside of him, like it had a mind of its own. He avoided eye contact with his father. He could feel the rage radiating off of him and he felt the all too familiar dread sinking in.

"I bust my ass for this family, and this is what you do?" His father continued, leaning forward. Monty hazarded a glance at him from the corner of his eye, not daring to breathe. He blinked, feeling his mind beginning to reel.

"Answer me!"

Monty jumped and blinked again, feeling stupid and cornered. His heart was racing.

"What? What answer do you want?" He hated hearing the sound of his own desperation in his voice, the way it broke at the end.

"Is it true? What they're saying?"

Monty felt his body stiffen even more, if that was at all possible. He tried to shrug it off, blinking again.

"What are- what are they saying?" He stammered. It felt as though there was a fist clamped around his throat.

"You damn well know."

Monty stared straight ahead of him, feeling the all too familiar sensation of  his blood pounding in his ears and through his veins. He clenched his jaw and stayed silent.

"They're saying that you assaulted a kid. That you sexually assaulted a kid. A boy! That true?" He couldn't help but notice the tone his father's voice took on at the word 'boy'.

"It wasn't sexual assault. I was just...messin' with him." Monty said, shifting his shoulders as though his shuffling could make his actions go away, like an irritating fly tickling his skin.

"You were messing with him?" His dad blinked, his eyes darkening, "The way they said? Why would you do that shit? To a boy? Are you some kind of faggot?!" The disgust in his voice was palpable, but it wasn't the fact that he was being charged with sexual assault that disgusted him so, that much was glaringly clear.

Monty's body felt hot all over, his eyes beginning to well with tears. He clenched his jaw again and stole his resolve.

"What if I was dad? What if I was?" He locked his gaze on his father's dark, furious eyes. The rage and contempt the look he was met with took his breath away.

"You're going to prison. You know what they do to guys like you in there?" He scanned him up and down quickly, as though sizing him up.

"And what do they do? Describe it." He mumbled defiantly, squaring his chin.

"You're going to get beat to shit. At the minimum. They will beat you down."

Monty leaned back, unable to stop himself. What the fuck did it matter now anyway.

"Yeah, well, at least none of them will be my dad."

He could see the storm in his father's eyes, and he was suddenly grateful he was in jail. The chair scraped on the concrete as his dad stood, towering over him with the blackest eyes he had ever seen. Mr. de la Cruz was staring at him as though he had known it all along.

"Are you a faggot?" He asked, with a tone that suggested he already had the answer.

Fuck it, he thought, and fuck you.

He looked up and locked eyes with the man whom he had feared, loathed, worshiped... his whole life.

"Sure."

The moment could have lasted an eternity. His father stared at him in disgusted silence before spitting in his face and walking out, leaving him sitting there alone in his shackles. It hurt more than a fist. He closed his eyes, feeling as though his heart was shattering in his chest. The spit was hot and sticky, burning his left eye it landed on. He clenched his jaw again, his eyebrows furrowing as he fought back his tears. He tried to wipe the spit off of his face but his shackles stopped him from being able to reach. He rubbed the side of his face on his shoulder as though he could wipe away his shame with it, his breathing ragged.

"Hey inmate."

Monty jumped, the voice knocking him back to reality. He stood carefully, his body aching at his lack of forgiveness to it, and looked at the C.O.

"Yes sir?"

"You have an appointment with your lawyer. Come on."

He blinked slowly, following the guard out of his cell. I don't have a lawyer..? 

The guard marched him to a set of doors where he was pat down and shackled once more. They took him down a hallway he had never been down before, the shackles making his strides short and awkward, forcing him to hunch forward. It made him look small. The hall had rooms with windows that opened to the hallway. The guard opened one of the doors and Monty followed him inside.

There was a woman sitting at a large table with several file folders. Her black hair was up in a bun and she was wearing a pantsuit with a blouse. It was jarring, seeing someone outside of uniform or the orange jumpsuit. He shuffled toward the table and she glanced up at him, surveying him quietly with blue eyes he couldn't read. He sat down across from her and tried to shuffle his chair closer to the table with little success.

 The guard stepped in and closed the door. The woman turned her attention from him to the guard.

"You can wait outside." She dismissed him. He looked as though he was going to argue with her but then thought better of it and left. Monty could see him watching them through the glass.

"Hello Mr. de la Cruz." She said, opening one of the files and glancing at it before looking back at him. "I am Eva Guerrero. I am a defense attorney and I work for a non-profit organization, and we were forwarded your case and I am here to offer you legal representation for your trial, if you choose to have one. I have spent some time reviewing your case and I have a few thoughts, and a few questions."

Monty sat there, staring at her for awhile. He blinked while he waited for his brain to catch up. It didn't.

"Okay." He said curtly, instantly on the defensive.

"You presently have two charges filed against you. That is correct? The sexual assault of Tyler Down and the murder of Bryce Walker..?"

Monty stood in the dim light of his bedroom, one of the bulbs in the ceiling was burnt out. It cast long shadows up the dark beige walls. It made the hole he punched in his white door look cavernous. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, his breathing steady and calm...resolute. Tears trickled silently down his face, pooling on the wooden surface of his dresser. They slipped off the chips and dings in the surface and flowed off of the edge. His arm trembled as it held the cold steel of the gun, pressing into the side of his temple. His finger curled around the trigger, his other hand pressed on the top of the dresser to brace himself. There was only one bullet in the chamber, but he only needed one.

"Where are you, you son of a bitch!" His father roared, bursting into the room and yanking him from his thoughts. His blood pounded in his ears and he rounded on the taller man, not even feeling human anymore.

"You wanna go old man?!" Monty yelled, taking the gun away from his own face and leveling it at the chest of his father, finger still poised on the trigger. The man staggered back, clearly intoxicated. His face flashed shock for a moment before he began to laugh, contempt replacing his former fearful expression as though it had never existed. Monty's heart was hammering in his chest like it was going to explode. His body was moving outside of his control, his desperation having a mind of its own and an appetite for destruction.

"You going to shoot me?" The older man laughed again and muttered derisively in Spanish before closing the space between them, leaning into the gun. "Do it then. You're the man now."

Monty locked eyes with his monster, his boogeyman, and felt his resolve begin to crumble just as he always crumbled under his father's fists and rage. He lowered the gun and made to shove passed him to get through the door but his dad grabbed him roughly around his abdomen and chucked him into it. He heard it crack under his weight and his lungs strained as the wind was knocked out of him. He choked and gasped for a moment, in a heap on the ground still holding the gun.

"You're just a coward." His dad hissed, booting him hard in the ribs. He hated himself for not being able to hold back his whimper at the pain. "Were you fucking crying? Crying like a lady-boy? Like a faggot?!"

He sucked in a ragged breath and dragged himself to his feet, running haphazardly  through the hallway. He needed to get the fuck out of here before this ended in regret. His dad pursued him, hot on his tail, stopping momentarily to grab a bottle of liquor off of the counter.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going you little shit?!"

"I'm getting the fuck out of here!" Monty yelled, opening the front door. His dad grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him backwards, slamming him against the wall and backhanded him. He tasted blood. He shoved his dad as hard as he could, away from him and ran out the door without looking back. His dad staggered drunkenly and fell over. It didn't stop him for long, just slowed him down momentarily, Monty heard his drunken shuffling footsteps chasing him out the door.

"Come back here you coward!" He yelled, chucking the bottle at Monty. It shattered beside his feet and he stepped on the glass. It crunched under the soles of his shoes, gritty on the gravel driveway. The alcohol splashed up his pants, staining and stinking. He fumbled for his keys, hands shaking and jerking as adrenaline sent his nerves haywire. He popped the safety back on the gun and tossed it in the back storage compartment. He started the Jeep and threw it in reverse, slamming his foot on the gas and gunning it down the driveway. His tires screeched shrilly on the pavement and the SUV lurched with his sudden movements.

He put the Jeep into drive and stomped on the gas, not knowing where he was going. There was nothing but the sound of his engine, the tires rumbling on the pavement noisily and his suspension rattling every so often as he went over a bump or pothole in the road. And his seemingly-endless-blood pounding in his ears-level rage. His vision blurred with tears, the road and lights melted blurs whipping passed him with no recognition. He sobbed, unable to catch his breath. His chest felt empty, like a gaping wound raw and shredded on the edges. Minutes turned into hours and became nothing. Eventually he had no energy left to sob, no tears left to cry.

He eased off of the gas pedal and soaked in the emptiness that consumed him. The air around him was cold and light, the stars dancing above him and the moon hung over it all like a fucking spotlight for his shit show.

He slowed and stopped, realizing he recognized the house he was in front of. His heart skipped a beat. He shouldn't be here. He put the Jeep in park and pushed the door open, stepping out of the vehicle. He left the door open as he walked ponderously along the curb. The house was like a mansion, towering on top of a small expensively landscaped hill. With a huge, wall-like cement fence with wrought iron details on top. Four pillars boarded each edge of the horse-shoe shaped driveway, one of those fancy ones that you can drive in and out of in a  half circle. The pillars had lamps on top made out of matching wrought iron that bathed him in golden light, like a caricature of an angel.

He didn't belong here.

He stood at the mouth of the driveway, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He sighed, turning to go when he saw a figure approaching him. The tall, slender, dark haired young man stepped into the light. His dark, brown eyes were muddied with confusion. He wore a light coat thrown over a grey cable knit sweater and olive coloured slacks, lacking his usual carefully chosen attire. It was evident he just threw it on in a hurry to run outside. His heavy brows furrowed, his expression flipping rapidly from confusion to concern.

"Monty- what are you doing here? My parents are actually home...you probably don't want to- why are you bleeding? Are you ok?!" He stumbled his words in a rush.

Monty stood there with his arms limp at his side for a few moments, trying to feel anything other than the brokenness that consumed him. He knew the desperation showed on his face like an open book and he loathed himself for it. He could never hide it, not in front of Winston. The other boy had a way of running his fingers over his spine and cracking him open like a dam waiting to flood the world. And tonight, he was nothing if not an open wound.

"Monty?!" Winston insisted, taking another step towards him.

"Bryce is dead." He said hollowly.

Winston blinked, glancing back to the house and then back to Monty. He closed the space between them, Monty's heart leaping into his throat. Winston took his hand and ran his fingers over his knuckles and palm with an aching tenderness.

"Okay, let's get out of here then." He said calmly. Damn him. Winston gave his hand a gentle squeeze and tilted his face to lock his warm eyes with Monty's avoidant gaze. Monty looked back at him knowing he wasn't able to hide his pain behind his mask anymore. He returned the gentle squeeze before walking back to the Jeep and climbing in, his heart racing once more. Winston climbed in the passenger seat, doing a double take at the gun in the back.

"Is that a gun?! What are you doing with a gun?! How did you even get a gun?!?!"

Monty clenched his jaw, starting the Jeep with a stuttering rumble. It was an old Jeep, and its age was showing. Monty couldn't help but feel uncomfortable having the boy who was used to so much luxury in his piece of shit SUV. 

Although if Winston had any opinions, he kept them to himself. Monty glanced at the gun in the corner of his eye, barely tilting his face before looking at Winston for a moment and putting the vehicle in drive.

"It was a gift." He muttered, nonchalantly. Winston looked taken aback but didn't ask anymore questions as Monty drove off. Monty turned up the music, indicating he didn't want to talk anymore. Winston reached over and  held Monty's hand that was resting in his lap. Monty didn't fight it or pull away, allowing the other boy to gently stroke his fingers. He felt the pounding rage and anxiety, poised for the attack, slowly recede under Winston's unfairly soft touch.

"They found him in the water...by the docks." Monty said thickly, the dam threatening to break again. "They say he was shot...he was murdered."

"Murdered?! Holy fuck..." Winston gasped, sucking in a quick breath. It was clear he was rattled. "Who would do that?"

"Oh I think I know." Monty said, a clearly menacing tone to his voice. "Cops hauled me in for questioning. Cuffed me and chucked my ass in the back seat and everything. What a fucking show."

Winston looked taken aback.

"But Bryce was your friend?! Why would they think you killed him?!" Winston asked, despite the gun sitting in the back of the Jeep like a verifiable elephant in the room.

"We had a fight before he was killed." Monty grumbled, stepping on the gas a little. "He was killed homecoming night."

Winston took a deep breath, surveying Monty carefully.

"While you were with me?"

"If I was fuckin' there he wouldn't be fuckin' dead right now!" Monty yelled. "I should have been there. I could have stopped it. Someone beat the shit out of him and shot him and threw him in the fuckin' water and I was off getting laid!"

Winston stayed silent for a few moments, gazing at the scenery as it whipped by. If his outburst or speeding bothered him, Monty couldn't tell. He seemed surprisingly unruffled by his rage. After more time passed Monty's resolve and anger subsided, having nothing to feed off of. He took a deep, tremulous breath.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, "I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault I wasn't there for him. It's mine-"

"Monty, don't blame yourself for this either." Winston cut him off. "There was nothing you could have done. You couldn't have known that would have happened and if you had tried to stop it they very likely would have killed you too. It would have taken someone incredibly dangerous to have done this. I didn't know Bryce very well, but he wouldn't have gone down without a fight."

Monty flinched, gripping the steering wheel tightly with one hand and his other hand trembled in Winston's. He drew in a shivering breath and shook his head, his brows furrowing deeply.

"If I had died too so be it. I should have been there, protecting him. I always protected him... he died alone."

His lip quivered as his eyes welled with tears once more. He wanted to punch himself in his own god damned face. He blinked rapidly, pushing his emotions back down and swallowed hard, flipping his turn signal on.

"That's not a road?" Winston said in confusion.

"That's the point." Monty said, his words catching when the Jeep thumped in and out of a rut jerking both boys around inside.

"I've never done this before." Winston said with a small laugh, "Gone off roading."

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" Monty shook his head, putting the Jeep into 4x4 and glancing at the other boy. "Rich kids." He muttered incredulously. Winston shrugged and flopped around, his shoulder bumping into Monty's as the Jeep thrashed from side to side over the uneven ground. He laughed helplessly, shaking his head. He was knocked backwards as the SUV lurched upwards and then once again bumped into Monty and then the side of the door as it landed roughly, the suspension audibly creaking.

"Jesus can this thing even handle this?!" Winston wondered.

"It was built for this." Monty chuckled, easily matching his body's movements with the jerking of the Jeep, "How about you, pretty boy, can you handle it?" He almost purred, quirking an eyebrow teasingly. Winston shot him a half exasperated dirty look and shifted his weight surreptitiously and then he smirked, meeting the other boy's challenge.

"I think we both know I like being tossed around a little."

Monty responded by gunning the SUV over a ditch in the dirt road, and Winston grabbed the handle over his head to maintain his balance and ride out the bucking of the vehicle. The two shared a look and Monty grinned devilishly. He pressed the accelerator down slowly and evenly, the Jeep's tires kicking up sand that billowed around them like an angry cloud. He adjusted the steering wheel and pulled the SUV into a tight turn, the force tossing Winston to one side as he held the tires in a rotation. He sped up as the Jeep spun in a circle, the sand flying around them like debris in an explosion. The lights of the city and the moon over the ocean melted together, becoming a ribbon of colours swirling dizzyingly around them.

Monty wasn't watching where the Jeep was going, he didn't have to. He had perfect control of the vehicle's movements, he had done this countless times with the guys. He was watching Winston, couldn't take his eyes off of him if he had even tried. He watched the way his chest moved when he breathed, the way his expressions changed and the way his eyes were just so damned alive. Monty loved the way he would laugh or yelp, and knew exactly how to get each reaction. The thrill of it made his face feel flushed, his blood pounding for an altogether different reason. He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment before pulling the Jeep out of the doughnut turn and slamming on the brakes. Winston let out a little shriek as he was once again tossed from side to side, and then also back and forth with his long legs tangling like a clumsy giraffe.

"If I knew it was that easy to make you scream I would have done this a long time ago." Monty laughed, cutting the engine and smirking at Winston, his heart fluttering in his chest. Winston glanced at him through the dark lengths of his eyelashes and moistened his lips. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was a little ragged after being thrashed around like a rag-doll mercilessly for the last god-only-knows how long.

"I could think of a few other ways you could make me scream." He said breathily. 

Monty yanked his seat belt off and practically dove at him, his hands grabbing the other boy's wavy hair as their lips crashed together. Monty had one leg on his centre console, the other was in between Winston's legs. Winston's fingertips dug into his back as he kissed back, his bruising lips meeting Monty's furious hunger with a relishing eagerness. Monty kissed him and pawed at him like he wanted to devour him and Winston's hands flew to his pants and popped the button with ease and unzipped them, running his hand over the other boy's obvious erection. He wanted to be devoured, consumed, destroyed. Monty gasped and made a soft, strangled sound as he broke their kiss.

"Fucking hell." He hissed grinding his hips into Winston's hand, "I want you." he added, his voice catching. And I shouldn't, he thought, I can't... this is going to be the death of me.

Winston laughed lowly, continuing to run his hand up and down Monty's rock hard length. He kissed him again, biting his bottom lip lightly as he pulled away.

"Take me home." He said flatly, his hand still rubbing Monty's achingly hard cock. 

Monty blinked rapidly, his train of thought thrashing around not unlike Winston was being thrashed around moments ago.

"W...what?" He stuttered, gasping quietly and suppressing a moan with limited success.

"Take me home, Montgomery," Winston said, staring into Monty's eyes as he massaged his balls, "And fuck me properly."

"I don't think I can drive like this." Monty groaned as Winston's hand slipped away, tucking his throbbing cock back into his pants and zipping them back up with some difficulty.

"You're going to." Winston smirked, kissing him deeply and then pushing him away as he adjusted his own bulge in his pants.

Monty swallowed and looked at the lawyer before him. He had declined the legal aide appointed by the court, and he had assumed it was left at that. That he'd be deemed guilty and just rot or die where he fucking belonged.

"I didn't kill Bryce." He said coldly.

"I am aware. We've been contacted by someone who has compelling evidence for your innocence."

"Charlie?" Monty asked, meeting her eyes carefully. He already knew the answer to that question he realized with sickening dread.

"No, Charlie went to the police shortly after you were apprehended and confessed to lying to them to cover for you and that he had no idea of your true whereabouts that night. A boy named Winston Williams... contacted us seeking legal aide on your behalf," The lawyer said, reaching for one of the folders. "He can place you at his house at the time of the murder. He said you made some texts and the cell phone towers would be able to confirm your location which would be quite far from the location where Bryce was killed. He also has an article of your clothing that would possibly be useful, if people can confirm you wore it that night and haven't since."

Monty swallowed hard  against the lump in his throat, willing his face to remain stagnant and leaned back, shaking his head. The betrayal by Charlie stung like the weight of a sword to the hilt of his spine. And then there was the Winston of it all.

"He just doesn't fucking give up, does he?" He muttered with an agonized hitch in his voice despite his best efforts.

"I mean, if I knew someone was innocent of a crime, I would want to speak out."

"Did he tell you I beat the shit out of him the night we met and I called him a fucking faggot?" Monty lashed out, he would have crossed his arms but his shackles prevented him from doing it so he just squared his shoulders and jaw and stared coldly at the woman in front of him who only wanted to help him. But he didn't want her fucking help, or Winston's for that matter.

The woman held his gaze, completely unfazed by his demeanor.

"He did, in fact, tell me that." She said with a quirked eyebrow. Monty was taken aback but tried to do his best not to let that show.

"So why the fuck would he want to help me." He said hollowly. The lawyer shrugged.

"Does that really matter? You're looking at life in jail or worse, right now with these charges."

"Maybe I fuckin' deserve it." Monty said, tilting his head challengingly.

"Maybe you do." She agreed calmly. "But I don't think you do. I think that's an easy way out. I think you're fucking giving up, throwing it away because its easier than facing the person you are and the problems you have. Its easier than admitting your life isn't going where you wanted it to, and that you regret the things you've done." 

She tossed a file in his direction.

"I think life has been unreasonably hard on you, Montgomery, and I think the people and systems that were supposed to protect you and keep you safe didn't. I think you had a violent upbringing, and that you survived for a long time by yourself. I think the fact that you'd rather go to jail for a crime you didn't commit than willingly admit out loud that you spent the night with a boy who's only crime was maybe to love you enough to want to save you is cowardly. I think you feel like you don't deserve his concern, or his love for that matter, so you're running scared from that too. I think you've been scared for your whole life. And I think its time you fucking let that go. Because the people who've helped you become the young man standing before me would love to see you sitting here wallowing in your self pity. They'd love to see you disappear like another fucking statistic. I would like to think that someone who has survived as long as you have, someone who's fought as hard as you have would take all that anger and tell them to fuck themselves and build a real life for himself, and be fucking happy to spite them, in spite of them."

Monty felt his pulse tick in his neck and looked away before fixing her with a glare. That hit a nerve.

"I think you fucking think too much." He snarked, and smirked with a cocky lift of his eyebrow. "What would you know about it anyway."

She smiled calmly, and met his arrogance with her own ego.

"I had a bad childhood." She said flatly, not knowing she was using his own words against him, "I did eight years in federal for armed carjacking."

Monty sat there numbly, dumbfounded for a moment.

"And they let you be a lawyer?" He asked incredulously, "That explains a lot..."

"It wasn't easy, Montgomery, it took me almost twelve years after my sentence to even begin rebuilding my life. They said I would never amount to more than my crime. But I fucking did it and they can suck my dick." She began to collect the folders he hadn't even looked at yet, leaving one in front of him as she stood up.

"You're a lawyer, you're not supposed to talk like that." He mumbled, feeling panic flutter in his chest as his lifeline was packing up and leaving and it was all his own fault for pushing her away.

"Not in front of a judge anyway." She countered, snapping her briefcase shut. 

"Think about what I said. I won't close your case yet, but don't waste anymore of my fucking time. Keep that, and read it." She warned as she walked away. She opened the door where the guard was waiting and he heard the sound of his boots as he came to fetch him.

His mind was reeling, spinning out of control as he shuffled behind the C.O. awkwardly holding his file.

"You have some mail." The C.O. said offhandedly. Monty blinked, wondering what it was. Was it a court summons? Was it Winston? Was it his family..? They stopped at the doors and the man uncuffed him around the wrists and ankles. 

He handed Monty the letter, his expression unreadable.

"It came in awhile ago...but sometimes things here get lost on purpose."

"Why are you being nice to me?" Monty asked, suspicious as he took the letter.

"You're a human being. And I'd like to believe we can help people in here... sometimes."

"You must be new." Monty sighed. He walked back to his cell without a backwards glance. None of the other three inmates he shared a cell had returned yet, they must be at lunch. Monty's stomach growled insistently but he ripped open the letter instead, wanting the privacy to absorb the blow that was about to come. The paper was a file printed from the jails website, someone was requesting the right to visit him and it required his approval or denial.

Charles St. George.

[yogpetshame]

Hi all, following on from my update post last week, today I want to share some more thoughts and apologise for something that I feel particularly bad about.

In 2016 screenshots emerged on tumblr of Sjin chatting flirtatiously with fans online. During a livestream and reddit post I angrily defended him and insulted those who were sharing the screenshots - something I deeply regret doing and am very sorry for.

At the time I thought a few overly-sensitive individuals were blowing things out of proportion and getting angry on behalf of others. I hadn’t received any complaints and to me it appeared that no one was hurt. I reminded Sjin that chatting with fans in this way was not okay and if it were to happen again he would be removed from the Yogscast. Sjin was a close friend and I stupidly believed him when he said nothing inappropriate had happened (emphasis added).

Last year, a number of women shared their stories with me and I finally realized that he had, in fact, caused a great deal of hurt. 

I understand now that his position of power allowed him to emotionally manipulate and sexually harass members of our community.

I don’t think he really understood that his actions were not okay - or the impact of them - but that is no excuse, people were hurt and they continue to come forward.

Over the last week I’ve seen many courageous women and men share their stories only to be insulted, shamed or threatened with lawsuits or violence and I have been very upset by this. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last year, it’s that accusations against influencers deserve to be taken seriously and those speaking up should be met with compassion, respect and support.

Yes, there will be a rare bad apple with a false claim. But if multiple victims have come forward then no doubt there are more who can't speak out in public. This could be because they’re protecting their family, reputation, mental health or career. And they should not feel guilty for waiting until they are ready to come forward.

It's a privilege to be a professional YouTuber or streamer - not a right. I applaud Twitch for taking action to remove poisonous individuals from the platform and I hope other big platforms do the same. But we need to do more: we need to educate influencers that fans are real people with real feelings - something that can be hard to see through the veil of anonymity on the internet.

We have a HR rep at the Yogscast and are implementing a sensitivity training course that all current and future creators will be expected to complete. Perhaps something like this should be built into requirements to join “partner programs” on Twitch and YouTube, just as you’re required to complete a short online training course to get certified for Google Adsense.

I encourage everyone to stand up when they see or hear something wrong and call it out. My [e-mail](mailto:lewis@yogscast.com) is always open to anybody who has concerns about how we do things.

To conclude, it’s become apparent to me that my past inaction and ignorance contributed to the hurt caused by Sjin and others and I feel deeply ashamed about this. I want to say sorry to everyone who has been affected.

There’s been a lot to think about and consider so I’ve decided to take a few weeks away from everything and I’ll be back in due course.

Be good to one another,

Lewis

I felt like taking ages to get around to responding to this -  that’s why it took me a while. When I see a long letter and I agree with every point I don’t feel like throwing myself at it. I’m not chasing it down like I’m trying to hunt the post and kill it.

In case you were missing the context, Lewis is referring to what we’ve been calling the “Fuck You Stream,” a Deck Rippers stream from April 2016 in which Lewis screamed “fuck you” at least five times to people who had brought accusations against Sjin. The Yogscast appear to have delisted the video, so I’m having trouble giving you the context you deserve here. This post contains a large transcript of the things that were said, and I might have archived it somewhere, but if it’s already up somewhere, let me know.

How fucking long ago was “Yogscast needs HR” a slogan? All it took was one errant flail in their everyday uncontrolled brawl to punch a hole in Yogcon, and suddenly focusing on sensitivity and tackling the harmful repercussions of their behavior began to make financial sense. One year later and the Rooster Teeth partnership as well as pressure from Twitch finally forced the Yogs to get HR.

It’s easy but often toothless to say “They should do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do.” Which is why my main point was always, “the right thing to do will make financial sense in the end.” The fact that Sjin was leaving dozens of victims in his wake doesn’t seem to have immediate financial repercussions, but £100,000 and a crater in their reputation later... An ounce of prevention,  £100,000 of cure. You could attribute MadCat leaving to his shitty behavior and insubordination, or, as Madcat says they described it, you could call him a “brand risk.” You get to the same place in the end.

There’s one thing Lewis does state clearly but is easy to miss, and probably wasn’t something he wanted to emphasize.

In 2016 screenshots emerged on tumblr of Sjin chatting flirtatiously with fans online.... At the time I thought a few overly-sensitive individuals were blowing things out of proportion and getting angry on behalf of others. I hadn’t received any complaints and to me it appeared that no one was hurt... Last year, a number of women shared their stories with me and I finally realized that he had, in fact, caused a great deal of hurt. I understand now that his position of power allowed him to emotionally manipulate and sexually harass members of our community.

The only difference between 2016 and 2019 was... empathy. Really. I don’t see Lewis stating that he discovered any missing information. I see a man in 2016 who saw these women complaining and couldn’t take them at their word until it came explicitly paired with an explanation of the harm.

I don’t find that so surprising, considering he initiated the Fuck You Stream four years ago by dragging Minty, calling her a jealous and unsatisfying ex of Sjin’s. You have to really forge a person to change them from that kind of beast into someone who actually empathizes with other people, who actually wants to ask and to learn who has been harmed rather than read and pass instant judgement.

We need to educate influencers that fans are real people with real feelings - something that can be hard to see through the veil of anonymity on the internet.

Because Lewis didn’t always know that.

So while I’m being slow and ponderous instead of a screaming eagle for once, I have an actual mellow suggestion for Lewis. If he thinks there should be sensitivity training, really dig into the experience of changing your mind and share that. Why you thought they weren’t real people, what you heard that changed you the most. Bring it to the Yogscast’s audience, and to leadership at Twitch. You’re among the vaccinated now, go share the vaccine.

It’s been interesting to me, watching those final hardcore dregs of Sjin’s fanbase try to smell out some weakness in this. Lewis says “Sjin was a close friend,” and they go, “hmm, does not compute, they are clearly still friends,” or possibly more desperately, “maybe there’s a chance they’ll be friends again!” 

They put it down to pressure the way Lewis did in 2016, and say it’s not Lewis’ fault, it’s those guys on Reddit running the whole conspiracy who are to blame. Much like how Reddit used to blame the accusations against Sjin on Tumblr. Because clearly the only valid source of information is the social media platform you yourself are using.

Some of the real Einsteins say, “well none of the damage would have happened if they’d just kept this private matter private.”

Sjin would never be stopped if it was kept private.

Sjin behaving this way was never a private matter, it was an abuse of his professional position.

He would not have been enabled to cause this damage without combining his private and professional life.

Sjin literally harassed his professional contacts within the Yogscast. It’s literal workplace sexual harassment.

At any rate. There’s always going to be doubters. It’s just good to know we’re not watching the Yogscast management pander to them anymore.

There’s been doubt about it but again, this blog’s going to continue to exist. It started because people were being censored on Reddit, and they still are, and because Lewis and others were muffling complaints sent in through their emails which may or may not have come to an end. Lewis watched while Turps and Sjin helped reinforce systemic issues in the Yogs, and we’ll see whether Lewis is serious about dismantling what he did.

Starting with earnestly tackling that subreddit that Bouphe doesn’t like, maybe?