#when so much of the fandom and community at large has left behind any understanding I had of the series

[northwest-cryptid]

So I'm just gonna do my thing that I always do and sorta explain this one because I feel like this is something we see time and time and time and yes, even time again with any larger community/fandom.

You might be wondering why, you might think you know why; and hey maybe you do! Though for everyone who may not know or may not actually be aware let me sorta break it down for you.

Here's the thing, Persona is a series that has a community sort of divided into parts, this is true of many things but Persona sees it pretty especially bad.

The reason for this is because you essentially have 4 or so groups of people who consider themselves fans of persona. You have people who enjoy the entire series, meaning that they know of and enjoy even the first games in the series (those being stuff like 1, 2 and yes the 2nd 2nd game.) All the while you have people who only picked up the series starting with 3 since it had a pretty big shift from the first 3 games in the series, these people likely enjoy 3 4 and 5 along with their various other versions and sequels (like FES, Portable, Golden, etc.) Then you've got people who only ever learned about Persona from Persona 5 and haven't really bothered to get into the rest of the games or the series. Lastly you have the people who are SMT fans as a whole, and Persona fans by extension of it being an SMT game.

Now this sort of thing isn't necessarily uncommon whenever a franchise has multiple games, series, or otherwise installments. I mean just look at how many people love things like Star Wars or Star Trek but can't decide on which movies or specific versions are the best/right ones to be a fan of.

If we combine this sort of lack of united fandom with the fact that arguably each listed group is somehow larger in population than the last, we come to this sort of crossroads where simply saying someone is a "Persona fan" doesn't really mean anything outside of "they like Persona" which, sure; no shit.

But which one(s)? Why? How do they engage with it? Do they follow more of the canon story or the fandom interpretation? Do they play only the main series titles or do they mostly engage with things like Persona Q and the spin off titles?

If I say my favorite Persona character is Joker am I talking about Persona 2 or Persona 5? Well without really asking me or looking for further context in my words it's kind of hard if not all but impossible to know.

Why does ANY of this matter? Well here's the major thing about all of this, the reason I believe we see so much division within Persona fans as a sort of community or fandom is likely because of the division of interest and the division of information that comes from that. Someone who enjoys all of the Persona games is going to have more information on the overall franchise and series than someone who only really played 5 and still rightfully considers themselves to be a fan. However the problem there is that this overall creates an "us vs them" mentality within an "us vs them" mentality.

See community and fandom is really just a fun quirky name for having a sort of "us vs them" categorization for yourself. You, a Persona fan; are different from Them, not a Persona fan. So you already have a division there sure, but the Persona community at large is not a united fandom because each of those four groups have further isolated themselves into that Us vs Them mentality. It's not just a division of Persona fan or Not a Persona fan, it's a division of which kind of fan, and then even more so you have to consider the further division of content.

If someone is a fan of the Persona 4 anime, someone else is a fan of Persona 4 Golden, and someone else is a fan of the Persona 4 manga, do you think these three consider themselves to be fans of Persona 4 in general? Well yes, likely that's the case; so all 3 of them could enter into a sort of community for fans of Persona 4, except they likely don't view each other as being fans of THEIR Persona 4.

Some of them call the main character by a different name, some of them don't like the way the anime or game handled a specific interaction or character arc; some of them might believe the manga or anime isn't the proper way to "experience" the story.

So what does all of this mean? Well likely wherever you personally fall within the community or fandom, you will find others who agree with your line of thinking. This is fairly common, and it's a very human thing we do, we seek out those we agree with. If I think a certain character is bad or good or something, I'm going to naturally enjoy the company of other people who also feel that way; and by that same logic I'm less likely to spend time in the company of people who disagree with my ideas.

This is all to say it leads to the following, first you have the division of us vs them vs them, where within a fandom you have already sectioned off which type of fan group you personally belong to. You then further have a handful of people within that group that you personally agree with and consider to be the good fans or the smart fans or the ones who are right. For some people this is literally no one but them because they genuinely believe that no one else gets it like they do. They feel they have the most knowledge or the right knowledge so obviously they're in the right. This could be from having access to more information through translating different versions of the game, or having seen/read/heard interviews with the devs, or maybe just by having played the games a lot or by engaging with the most media.

By proxy of this, everyone that exists outside of your handful of people have various levels of basically "stupidity" that get worse the further from your handful of people you go. People who you don't agree with, but who are still within your fan group are more likely to be at least somewhat less stupid to you than the people who aren't even part of the same fan grouping. It's the sort of situation where seeing someone say jazz music "sounds like it's right out of Persona 5" sounds really stupid to someone who enjoys jazz but likely less stupid to someone who's only ever heard jazz from Persona 5.

The fun part about this is that this isn't exclusive to Persona, this is a sort of thing we see in a lot of lines of thinking. I once worked as a line cook making food at a taco joint and I overheard another food prep guy saying how "people are so stupid they don't even know how to properly make a burrito" and I had to sit there and explain to him that, yes; this is because they're not ever taught. Because just like making a burrito, having knowledge about a game or a franchise or a series is not essential information for keeping someone alive, it's not taught in school; it's not the sort of thing everyone is going to have equal knowledge of. Literally the only reason we knew how to do it was because we learned to do it since it was our job.

In other words, no matter how stupid you think someone else is, the funniest part is that to that person you probably seem really stupid too; and who's right? Well there's some ways to look at objective truths sure. In some cases it's pretty obvious who is actually being the dumb one, but in other cases the actual reality of the situation is that everyone is kind of equally stupid depending on the unique knowledge and understanding they happen to have.

i like persona games but i believe it’s collective fanbase is a combination of the worlds stupidest minds.

[dark-bakura1]

Okay lovelies, now that the year is almost over and there are only a few hours left, I have to use this time to get something off my chest. It's just been on my mind for a while and I want to end the year with a few nice words.

When I found my way into the DCA fandom by coincidence last year, I never expected to find a digital place where I feel so comfortable - besides various communities in the horse art role play game, in which I have been more or less active for years. I never expected to start REALLY enjoying drawing again, but these two characters just made that happen. For years I've been drawing just thinking about how many points I can get out of leveling my horses, how much effort I have to put into an event picture to have a chance at one of the top three places and somewhere along the way I totally forgot to have fun with this hobby. Fun has turned into a compulsion to always aim for the best possible result. I started to overthink pictures for so long and wanted to create something so complex that I ended up not starting at all: Because I could never have realized it the way it looked in my head.

But since I stumbled into the DCA fandom myself - by pure coincidence, I'd like to say again - and started being active on Tumbr, I've found my way back to the 'origin' for myself: Having fun with what you do. This fandom has captivated me so much that I started reading English fanfiction about our two beloved robots - something I NEVER thought would happen. Simply because my concentration is totally limited and it's hard enough for me to read and understand texts in German. For me, it was never even conceivable that I would read something in a language that is not my mother tongue: And now here I am, doing it more often than I thought. Not only that, I've even started writing again myself, have an account on ao3 and upload stories there myself. I take the trouble to write, translate, proofread and upload things… and some people even think it's really great :3

And do you know why? Because behind the DCA fandom there is an incredibly large group of people like me: Who carry around a lot of problems themselves and seek refuge with two fictional characters in a fandom that is incredibly cozy, understanding, lovable and friendly. Of course, I could also create things in a fandom that isn't that… but for me it makes an incredible difference. I have an anxiety disorder around people. Even the monthly supermarket shop is a huge challenge for me. Every trip out the door is exhausting and I don't really have contact with anyone in RL. I have my mother and grandma. I go to the doctors, to Ergo therapy and I have BEWO people on hand to support and help me… but I don't have any friends. Not because I don't want to, but because friendships are incredibly stressful for me. I can't maintain them. I haven't said a word to the person I would most likely call a 'friend' in a year - because I simply don't have the strength. Talking, listening, reacting… it's all incredibly exhausting for me. But as soon as I open Tumblr and especially Discord, I see a bunch of great people. I can join in if I can and want to, but I don't have to. And to top it all off, I see so much self-insert stuff that makes me think, 'Man, you're not so alone after all' - and on top of that, even more people who also think it's good and can relate. I know that not everyone in the DCA fandom is so nice either, but the ones I've had the privilege of getting to know are just balm for my soul.

If someone had told me at the beginning of 2023 that I would find my way into a great fandom with even better people at the end of the same year, I would have declared them crazy. I don't have it in for people and since I've almost exclusively had really shitty experiences so far, they're welcome to stay far away from me. Most of them have expectations: Expectations that I can hardly, if at all, fulfill. But there are so many great people behind Sun and Moon who are simply supportive. Not toxic, not mean, not patronizing. No. They are people who are super wholesome. I don't need someone who pushes me, teaches me, corrects me or otherwise wants to educate me with phrases that they themselves don't live by. I don't want someone who puts even more pressure on me. I want people with whom I feel safe and comfortable. people with whom I can get what other people don't want to give me. When I think that I didn't like Sun or Moon in the game, I find it amazing that they are now my refuge and straighten me out mentally so many times a day. And thanks to them, I found you. Yep - YOU. Anyone who wants to may now feel addressed. Even if we've certainly never had any contact with each other: You are part of the community that I have come to love and that I am addressing here. There is so much hate, I love a Safespace that simply has love for everything and everyone. I've been here for a year now… and I hope for MANY more years with one of the greatest communities I've ever been a part of.

Hugs to ALL of you, lots of love goes out to everyone. Happy New Year, stay healthy and I wish you and your loved ones all the happiness in the world. Thank you for existing and just being amazing people. please keep that forever <3

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 10

WC: 1633

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: anxiety, angst, brief fears of infidelity, discussions of childbearing and marriage/gender roles, psych theories, some manipulation, age difference, brief mention of domestic violence (there is none)

A/N: If you have any questions regarding the tags for this chapter and want to ask me about it before reading please do so! The chapter is not necessarily dark but I understand that some may want me to give a more detailed warning/context. I want all my readers to be as comfortable as possible 💙

🧠

It started out small. He would bring up Dr. Stratton during conversation more and more often. Three times now he had been late to office hours, causing you to have to wait outside his room, nervously checking the time. But it’s nothing, you continue to remind yourself. They’re just good friends that haven’t seen each other in years. And you trust them both.

When another Friday night passed with Laszlo skipping drinks in favor of meeting with Karen, you decided to stay in as well. It had been a month since they reacquainted with one another. In those weeks you had seen less of him outside work. Your sex life was stagnating too, much to your annoyance. He had even canceled at the absolute last minute on a dinner date. Naturally, you had begun to feel a twinge of jealousy at his lack of attention. He kept saying it was work related. Nevertheless, the sullen temperament you'd adopted went unnoticed by the doctor. You felt foolish; you weren’t so needy that you had to make a big deal about it. So you said nothing on the issue.

You sat on the old couch in your apartment. Bitsy was getting ready to go out with Lucius for date night. Picking at your fingers, you decide to ask your roommate for advice. “Hey Bits?”

“Yeah?” she called from her bedroom.

“Can I ask you a question about Lucius?” you start.

“Sure, what’s up?”

You pause as you think of how to word your thoughts. “Do you ever, like, get jealous? When he hangs out with other girls I mean.” Her head pops out of the door frame as she finishes fastening her earring, eyebrows raised in question. “It’s just that Laszlo has been spending a lot of time with Dr. Stratton now that she’s back in town. I trust them and everything, but I’m starting to feel a bit left behind I guess…” you trail off.

“Oh honey, that's normal.” She waves a hand through the air as she speaks. “There’s this girl at the lab that Lucius works with and for the first month I was convinced she was trying to steal him away from me. Turns out she just wanted Marcus, his brother!” Bitsy lets out a cackle.

“Right…” you pick at the skin around your fingernails. “I just feel silly about it. I’m sure I’m overreacting to the whole thing, though. Laszlo would never do anything, and I don’t think Dr. Stratton would either,” you remind yourself outloud. "There's just this thing John said to me about them having a past and I can't get it out of my head."

“It's not silly.” Bitsy had moved further into the bedroom, causing her voice to be slightly muffled. “But if it bothers you that much, talk to him about it. He’s a psychologist, it’s kinda his job to understand emotions and things like this. And if he loves you like you say he does then he’ll put a bit more effort into giving you his attention.”

You marinate on what she’s told you. Bitsy is right, if it bothers you that much then you need to bring it up with him. Be an adult, use communication, and all that. “Why’re you always right and level-headed about everything?”

“Someone’s gotta be, with a hot head like you,” she snarks. Her phone buzzes letting her know her date is downstairs. With a squeeze on the shoulder she bids you goodbye, telling you to let her know if you need anything.

_

The atmosphere in Dr. Stratton’s office felt off. What was usually so open and warm had felt forced and awkward. You were still ignoring the guilt of your jealousy at the doctor. She wasn’t as talkative today, unlike usual. Instead, it was strictly business. You chalked it up to her having an off day.

The two of you discussed in more depth the fetishes and kinks from the list you had compiled. Unfortunately, due to spending less time with your boyfriend the last few weeks you hadn’t had much of an opportunity to try any of the new tricks you were learning about. Therefore, you had little to really talk about in that regard. You found that you didn’t particularly mind, as you were feeling less inclined to want to share about your love life due to your envy towards the woman in question.

Dr. Stratton quietly gathered together her notes from the session and placed them into the folder. You were about to ask if she needed anything else from you when her lips parted before closing again. She leaned forward on her desk towards you. Her fingers steepled under her chin.

She licks her lips. “There is something I wish to discuss with you unrelated to the study.”

You didn’t like where this was going. Dread pooled in your gut at the concerned look on her face. “O-okay.”

“Now I want you to understand that I only bring this up out of concern for your wellbeing and emotional health. But some of the things you have told me over the course of this study have me worried.”

What on earth could you have said that would cause this sort of reaction from her? She was the most calm and collected person you had ever known. To have her speaking out made your heart race in your chest.

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts before opening her mouth again. “In truth I worry about your current relationship. I fear that-”

Brows furrowing, your mind goes to the worst conclusion. You blurt out “what? No! He doesn’t hurt me or anything, I don’t know what would have given you that impression but I- ”

The doctor reaches out with her hand to settle on your forearm. “My dear take a breath, I meant no such thing.”

You take a deep inhale to compose yourself. “Then what are you talking about?”

“Speaking as your friend, and as an alienist, I fear that this boyfriend is potentially using you for your youth,” she begins the tale she concocted, unbeknownst to you. “In my experience as a psychologist, the young women such as yourself that I encounter with significantly older male companions find themselves locked into the relationship. Typically, it is from dependence on money at first. Over time, the male pressures the woman to be compliant in things like marriage and childbearing. I understand how difficult it is for a woman as driven as you to balance your aspirations with relationships and domestic matters. Do you want children?”

Her statement and question take you back. Confusion is written all over your face. Marriage? Children? Neither you nor Laszlo had ever brought up either subject. You didn’t even know if it was something he was interested in. “Wait what? I'm not sure I follow…”

“Men around his age go through an identity crisis in which they begin to become aware of their mortality. A change in priorities. The most common desire is to procreate, to start a family in which to pass on their wisdom is strongest here. Are you prepared to give him children soon? Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting to be a mother, it is a very noble role. Yet you do not strike me as someone ready for such a large step.”

You can barely form a coherent thought at her onslaught. The whole conversation was so out of the blue that you felt incredibly lost. Did you want children? Did he want children? Now? You wrap your arms around your torso to stave off the uncertainty and anxiety you feel creeping in. No words come to your defense at her interrogation. You are speechless, jaw dropped.

She stands and crosses the room, placing her cool hands on your cheeks. “My dear you are still a child yourself. This is something you need to consider. To… consider the possibility that you can’t give him what he needs. That he may need someone closer to his age with the same priorities, someone more willing to give in to his needs now. I don’t think you’re ready for that. I’ve seen the cost that these girls face. And the societal pressures and judgement you would face being with someone so much older? I think it could throw you into a state similar to after your friend passed. I wouldn’t want to see you in that position again. I want you to have your freedom."

Dr. Stratton looks up at the clock suddenly; “oh! My, I’m going to be late for a meeting, you’ll have to go. I don’t believe we need any more sessions for the study, but I will let you know if anything changes.”

You are too in shock trying to process everything she said to you as she ushers you out of the door with a “think about what I said, dear.” The door shuts behind you.

Karen sat with a huff. She felt a tad guilty for what she had said to you. She had no idea if Laszlo wanted marriage or children, he hadn’t when they were first together. But times change. She hoped that by using the angle of kids and identity crises that she could subtly plant a seed of doubt in your mind. Strike quickly and overwhelmingly, plant the doubt that you weren’t right for him, then push you out before you have the chance to seek answers or reassurance from her. It seemed you bought her false concern as actual worry. You were a great girl. But you were just that - a girl. You couldn’t give Laszlo what he needed, not like she could.

Now she simply had to wait and let your mind eat away at itself, leaving him for the taking.

Tag list

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[randombtsprincessa]

Belladonna || 1

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Min Yoongi x Reader, Past Lovers! AU

Words: 3k

Genre: Heavy Angst, Smut 

Rating: This chapter is General up to NC-17, rating might go up as story progresses.

Summary: Your life has finally settled into a routine; keeping you far away from your home, friends, family and the man who broke your heart. Coming back home means facing him again and maybe you’re not as over him as you’d like to believe.

Warnings: (in-chap) Heavy Angst, mentions of a toxic relationship.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The idol used as the Muse for the lead is not in anyway affiliated with the work. The characterisation is a work of mine. Any asks or accusations against the work on the grounds of inability to keep fact and fiction seperate on the part of the reader, will not be entertained. 

A/N: Its’s rather sad that the disclaimer has to be added but eh, it’s a bad time for tumblr writing fandom and people are being very mean. Brush past that if you’re sane. Anyway, a very very huge hug to my best friends for screaming at me about this fic. A bunch of thanks to @softyoongiionly​ for hyping up the chapter! And a round of applause for @kithtaehyung​ for beta-ing the chappie!!

Happy Birthday Yoonfie baby!!

It was cold inside the cabin, the air conditioner turned extreme while the outer windows fogged with condensation. Your head leaned against the pane, the thudding and rolling of the train wheels under you jarring your brain in your skull as you watched the world outside flash speedily by.

Trees, small gravelly roads, sign boards, sparse traffic here and there…and then rolling grasslands before the pattern repeated itself…redundant, normal, and soothing.

You sighed, a puff of white exhale clouding around your mouth while your eyes drifted back to the interior of the cabin. This sight was a lot more different, with different people having different lives, problems, worries…

A woman tended to her sniffling child, holding a handkerchief up to the girl’s running nose…a man spoke into his phone; harried and rushed as he more likely than not slurred a few words together…

It was when your eyes caught a girl laying her head on the boy next to hers’ shoulder, smiling serenely when the boy ran a hand through her locks that you turned around again, eyes back to watching the redundant.

There was nothing soothing about people watching.

Or maybe there was and it required some form of inner peace to find the charm in it.

You didn’t have that sort of inner peace; neither did you have the patience for it.

People watching for people like you was anxiety inducing…and you really didn’t want that burden on your shoulders right now. There would be enough anxiety waiting for you when you set your foot home.

“____?”

You turned coffee worn, blue light sunken eyes towards your boss, standing over you with his files clutched to his chest nervously. The sight was enough to make you chuckle. For all his genius, Kim Namjoon was just a giant fumbling through life. It made him a stellar boss and manager, but it also made him a wonderful friend.

“Yes?”

“I just got your email for the leave application.”

You blinked up at your boss expectantly, face calm and relaxed. Of course, your brain had shot straight to overdrive, praying, wishing, and begging for a miracle that would allow your boss to refute the application.

A large red denied would do nothing to hamper your mood; at least it would stamp down the very intrusive tendril of panic that was already gripping around you.

You waited until Namjoon was done rustling inside of the folder in the crook of his arm. The white print out was placed in front of you, green letterings spelling ACCEPTED AND FORWARDED, scrawled on the top screaming obscenities at you.

You looked back at Namjoon.

“We don’t have a lot of work load right now plus you look dead on your feet. Some time away with your folks will be nice, won’t it?”

You very nearly grimaced at his words.

He was sincere, of course he was. Namjoon didn’t have a conniving bone in his body, but right now, you couldn’t help but resent his kindness, his mushy brain that railed against exploiting his workers. You hated the fact that he looked into your eyes and saw past the stubborn energy and caught onto the exhausted person underneath.

So you offered him a tiny smile, just in case the flicker of your crushing despair was made clear onto your traitor face.

“Thank you, Namjoon.”

He placed a heavy, tight hand on your shoulder as he passed by.

“Have a nice vacation, ____.”

Usually, someone who was away from home, working their ass off, making something of themselves away from their family should ideally jump at the chance to take a vacation, to go home and see the family and friends they had.

Ideally…one should be happy at the prospect of going home.

So many times, however, situations were rarely ideal. Sometimes there were complications, convolutions, obstacles…

Sometimes people had no love in their hearts; sometimes there was nothing at all.

Sometimes, there was dread.

Right then, in the rattling carriage that carried you to the small town which had spawned your existence, you could sense the dread carving a pit into your stomach, roiling and curling like a wretched cat kept too long from sunshine.

There was no relief for the upcoming long sleepy times, no joy at the prospect of home food…of warm embraces…

There was just that god awful dread.

You hoped you wouldn’t throw up; though there was nothing in your stomach to hurl but for the coffee you’d pumped in you from the station café. You couldn’t keep anything else down.

You had upped and left your home right after the end of your college life. Many things had come to an end with that particular period in your life. You had scampered and scrapped together enough courage to exit the hole that still robbed you of breath sometimes when you twisted and turned in your bed – sleepless.

You had left shattered pieces of your heart in your whirling escape of the town, the space that you had now the only light that shone at the end of the tunnel back then. Your family and friends, as supportive as they were, had never truly understood why you had nearly clawed away from that world.

To them, it had been the job opportunity.

And it was understandable…

The town, as well-knit and seemingly lovable as it was, was used to being self sufficient. The people there didn’t ever need to leave, they knew everything, helped everyone, and any problem one of them had was a problem for them all.

You couldn’t fit yourself in that mold anymore.

You had left – knowingly cut yourself away from that community.

Your friends had remained; some spreading out of course but they were still as much a part of that bunch as they had been when born.

You didn’t expect anything from them.

Not when he was also still a part of that community.

Your mind jerked away moments before conjuring his likeness behind your eyes, the ticket collector bearing down to save you from the torture of it.

Your fingers fumbled with the pockets of your bag, slipping the stub into his patient hands as he clipped and handed it back to you.

You accepted it meekly, folding into yourself again, eyes drifting back out the window and firmly tugging your thoughts away from your past. You had to prepare for what was going to come now.

Nobody expected you to come, you knew. It was a surprise to you yourself that you had found enough guts in you to pull this off.

Namjoon’s words came back to you.

Some time away with your folks will be nice, won’t it?

You weren’t going to hold out much hope for that.

You found a cab almost immediately out of the station, the many cruisers that stood to one side eager to free you of your luggage and take you off to your destination. You gave your address shakily, hoping this particular driver wasn’t one of the townspeople. Luckily, the man didn’t bat an eye, instead nodding and quietly switching on the radio for the drive over.

You leaned back into the seats, arms grasping the strap of your handbag tight as the moment to face your family and close ones drew closer.

Objectively, your little hometown was very pretty.

Trees lined the major roads, small clusters of buildings interjecting the greenery to spread business to the good people. And as tense as you were, your mind couldn’t help but pick out the differences.

Boutiques were newer and flashier, the diners you remembered now expanded to add cafes or banquets. The town hall was an imposing as ever, only a new marble fountain added to the square in front of it now.

By the time your cab entered the section of the suburbs where you had grown up; your back was straight, neatly aligned with the window. If you had been dreading the homecoming before, it was all gone; replaced with an odd form of resignation.

You lugged your bags out and paid the taxi driver with cold hands, winding bloodless fingers around the handles to pull them up the drive way towards your open door.

The house was full, open and bustling – a normal day for when your mother threw one of her success parties. She was one of the famous people in the town, her career as a landscaper and home decorator for big names making her in turn the man source of revenue and attraction for the town.

It had been both a source of pride and embarrassment to you in your teens. Mainly because your mother insisted on these parties each and every time one of her projects turned out well. But then, as you grew you realized that this is why your mother was important to the town.

She was more than half the money earned and the social events of the calendar.

Inside the house, small clusters of people gathered here and there, in the living room, the kitchen, the dining space. You stood at the door; feeling more exposed than you ever had here but moved in quickly, lest one of them notice you in the doorway and start blabbering about it.

Of course, the three big bags that you carried more than made up for it.

One of the groups of women nearest you turned their heads in synchrony, taking double looks as you passed by before the murmurs began.

How could you tell?

Well because, gossip usually lowers ones’ volume. And each group you passed stopped conversing before muttering arose in its place.

You cut across the living room to your father’s den. Here, there were all men, hands cupping your dad’s cut glasses of scotch but thankfully no one mentioned you dumping your bags right by the door and walking back out.

Your hands fiddled with your scarf, wondering where your family was in their own party but you were loathing asking one of the guests.

Even as you convinced yourself to walk over to one of the ladies by the window sofa, a figure walked past opposite you, a handful of trays of cocktail bites and glasses on them. You jumped, watching as the woman placed the trays on the coffee table, smiling at the people before she turned…and spotted you.

Your sister’s eyes widened, eyelashes fluttering before quick steps led her closer to you.

“____?” She asked, almost checking if it really was you.

You smiled wryly, hand still tangled with your scarf. “Hi Sana, yes it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” She threw herself at you, arms wrapping around your neck to draw you into a warm and nearly forgotten embrace. You stood in her hold for a few seconds, managing to pat her back before she was pulling away, eyes glistening at you.

“Oh god, don’t cry,” you whispered immediately.

“Shut up, these are happy tears; my little sister is home! Hang on; I’ll go get Mom and Dad.” She turned on her heel before you got another word out, mouth parted as she disappeared into the house.

You stood rooted to the spot, hoping against hope she brought your dad first. You just knew your mom would start bawling and then all the neighbors and her social circle would start hovering like the pack of vultures you had the low opinion of them as.

It was unfair and very rude of you, yes, but you couldn’t help but remember half the rumors and gossip that had come from none other than these same people when you had first left. Sympathy or well wishes from them now, would only make you more disgusted.

It had made you keep your own mother at a distance, seeing as she was probably the source of their information.

Thankfully, you knew you could always depend on your dad.

A no-nonsense and rational person, he was only guilty of being extremely in love with your mother. You knew he only bore these parties for her sake and of course your sister, Sana’s.

So when you saw Sana come back, with both your parents you still heaved a relived sigh.

“____, my god, you’re really here.” Your mother was the second to hug you, your father following.

“We didn’t think you would make it this year too.” Your dad said.

“Yeah, it’s been hectic…a lot…for the last couple years.” You repeated the same lies you’d been spouting for two years now. You had spoken the same lines into your phone, in your emails over months and it came much easier while speaking them to their faces.

“Very hectic for a well-established firm, ____, you could’ve asked for a leave, I’m sure office policy allows that.” Your dad said in that logical baritone that rendered most arguments moot.

“That is actually how I got away, Namjoon insisted.” You said; not completely untrue.

“Well, I for one am very happy my little girl is back to me. You’ll stay for a bit, won’t you?” Your mother stroked your hair back from your face.

You smiled tightly at her, thinking of the weeks Namjoon had generously piled on you out of respect for your relentless working for two years under him.

“Yes.”

You caught Sana try and push in, her eyes seeking yours even as your mother squealed in jubilation. “Perfect, we are going to have to throw you a coming home party.”

“Y/M/N,” Your father said lightly. “We are at a party now.”

“Yes, but ____ deserves her own night.” Sana put in before grabbing your hand. “Come on,” she dragged you away from your debating parents.

“Not a lot has changed I guess.” You spoke drily.

“Yeah, maybe, listen I think we need to –”

Sana was cut off by a gasp of your name, your head swiveling to see Park Jimin, one of your old friends gaping at you.

It was a whirlwind of reunions and emotions as people gathered around you, astonished that you’d come back without any mention of it.

“Yeah, I – I guess, it’s a surprise.” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, going over the faces of your childhood to college friends.

Many things had changed while you were gone, true – to the town, to the people and even to your friends but one thing you were glad to see…they hadn’t cut you away completely. Yes, your interaction with them had been reduced to the odd Facebook and Twitter chats and the occasional emails and texts here and there but they still looked…happy to see you.

Park Jimin and his twin, Jihyo had been the first ones to come to you, Jihyo hugging you tightly enough to make you wince. She had been your roommate in college; she probably knew you as well as Sana did – maybe even better. She had introduced you to Jimin and the three of you had been inseparable throughout your college life.

Jimin had apparently been friends with one of your childhood friends, Kim Taehyung.

You were not so shocked to know he was now married, living next door to you with his wife, Nayeon. Sweet and charming, she hugged you like her husband.

“It’s almost like I already know you,” she explained to your unsure smile, “they talk about you so much.”

“Ugh, I’m already worried.” You cringed.

“They were all nice things don’t worry. We had to put down a couple old gossips down here and there, though.” Jimin came to defend his friend.

You glanced at them curiously.

“Oh yeah, it was just old gossipy hags around the town, don’t worry about it. People moved on from you pretty soon to a Miss Mina. She’s a spinster, which apparently is a sin.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “She lives a few houses from us.”

“Also, I think your mom told that friend of hers, Dahyun to stop people gossiping about you. They were task-forcing the town. It was fun to watch.” Jimin added.

A sudden wave of affection for your mother rose up in you, before being quelled by the reminder that she must have done it to protect her own image.

You shrugged then, picking up a glass from one of the trays to take a sip of your mother’s homemade cocktail – fruity and simple on your tongue.

“Enough about me, what about you all?” you pointed at Tae and Nayeon, “Married with a house,” your finger moved to Jimin, “Sports coach,” then Jihyo, “Choreographer,” you stopped.

“What about the others, any news?”

“Not really, we are the ones who still live here you know. Plus, no offense to your mom, but I doubt folks would leave their city jobs to come to her parties.” Jihyo muttered; exchanging a glance of solidarity with you before her eyes widened suddenly.

“What?” you asked.

Her eyes quickly went to her brother, Jimin’s eyes a little more slow on the uptake but they widened too…before repeating the process – albeit comically – with Taehyung.

“What is wrong with you all?” You asked again.

“Um, ____, did Sana tell you -?”

Jimin paused nervously, refusing to look at you as he fiddled with the rim of his glass.

“Tell me what?”

He looked helplessly at his sister. Jihyo hesitated before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Listen, ____, while you were gone” -

She broke off, her eyes darting over your shoulder and stuttering to a stop.

In that moment of her silence, the conversation behind you was clearer.

Or rather, one particular voice was…

Low and deep – soft morning grumbles came back to you – muffled conversations from behind you made you turn around.

It was a voice you would know anywhere. It was one that haunted your dreams, one that crested the ache in your heart on particularly bad days…

It was one you would know beyond a void.

Min Yoongi stood directly across from you, in your home, undoing his coat and removing his scarf, conversing lowly with your sister.

Something she quickly muttered to him had him freezing, long nimble fingers stopping in the unknotting of his scarf.

And then as if he could feel your gaze, could feel your presence, the reason why you left everything behind looked straight up at you, eyes locking across a room…just like the day you had first seen him.

[blooeyedtroll]

Home on the Range

Rated PG-13ish Lolz. For occasional cussing and maybe innuendos(?). Lolz. This can also be read on Ao3. Feel free to read it there if you prefer.

More art scattered though out this fic, hope you like it!

Hello friend! Welcome!  

This is a One shot fic that takes place in mine & @messybitch802 ​‘s : 

Efflorescence AU. 

This is the beginning of our tale, I hope you enjoy.

This is in Hickory’s POV. I thought this would be a fun way to introduce Bloo and Messy. It also seemed fitting since Hickory will play a larger part as our tale unfolds.

However, I’d like to think this could be enjoyed as a fun one-shot Hickory & Dickory fic as well. This fandom needs more Yodel Brothers content!

Big thanks to @jade-green-butterfly ​ and her random ask that kicked my butt in gear, giving me the inspiration to finally start writing:

Anyway, let’s get to it. Enjoy!:

HOME ON THE RANGE

"Rock Trolls... no doubt about that.”

The rugged, orange haired Troll put down his hammer and stepped away from the task at hand. Fence work could wait. This needed his immediate attention.  Around this time of day he'd expect to see, at most, a tumbleweed passing by the entrance to the Ranch. Maybe. Nobody ever came out this way. Not since he'd been here anyway. At a good clip, it was about an hour trek away from Lonesome Flats. Which suited his needs perfectly.

The perfect place to lay low and still blend in.

"Bist du sicher?" whispered a muffled voice behind him.

"Of course I am. Now hush, I'm gonna check it out. Stay in character. An’ be ready, just in case."

The orange haired Troll patted the front of his jeans, freeing them of a satisfying amount of dust from the day’s hard work and checked his reflection in a nearby trough. Grinning as he placed a straw of wheat that was kept in the brim of his hat; between his teeth.

Perfection.

Who would guess otherwise, that the reflection in that water, was anything but a genuine Country Troll?

It took a lot of work shopping, trial and error, but he did it.

Well, they did it. The four legged, rugged, handsome, Country Troll was in actuality...two Trolls.

Two brothers to be precise.

Yodel Trolls by the names of Hickory and Dickory. 

The last Yodel Trolls by their accounts, and they happened to be the best damn team of Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries in all of Trolldom.

For good reason.

The best tool to their disposal was their ability to blend in. So much so, it was only until it was “too late” for their marks, by the time their true colors were revealed. And this disguise has been their best yet.

Hickory, though the youngest brother, was the much taller of the two. So he was the face to this particular get-up. Making Dickory to be left with the tail end. Literally. Understandably, this was not ideal for him. 

And he definitely made it well known on many occasions how he felt about having to play a literal “horse’s ass”.

But by gum, was he the best ass you could ask for.

At this point, Dickory had mastered the art of synchronizing with Hickory's movements, in such a way, it was now practically impossible to spot anything amiss. It was as if they shared one mind while under the guise of this centaur-esk being.

And while Dickory was fairly sour about the whole situation, Hickory found himself more and more, fond of living day to day as a Country Troll. Very much so to his brother’s shagrin. The look, the music, the lifestyle...everything.

It had been two months now since the brothers found themselves here, in Country Music territory. However, last anyone on the outside had heard about them, was that they had "yodelled so hard, an avalanche fell on them"...or something? Which was just what they wanted. For the time being anyway.

The brothers had struck a deal with their last mark. 

For his freedom, he was to spread said rumor, so the Yodelers could lay low for a while.

Queen Barb, of the Hard Rock Trolls, was no stranger to the two brothers. As a matter of fact, she was one of their most frequent clients for the past few years. Which suited them just fine. Well, almost. The last few jobs they did for the young Queen, left a bitter taste in Hickory's mouth. Not so much for the tasks she asked of them, but because of something she said and what he saw on their last few visits to Volcano Rock City. Maps. Marked up. Plans of some sort. Hanging everywhere. The young ruler, looking the most tired he'd ever seen her, yet looking as if ready to burst from being too tightly wound, at any moment.

"Hopefully next time I see you dudes, one way or another, we'll all be singing to a different tune. It's gonna be so Rad."

Whatever was going on, both Yodelers agreed that it was definitely not worth getting caught up in. They could just feel it. Deep down. They were hired to track Trolls down and do what needed to do, to get by.

Both of them could be shady characters at times, but they had decent moral compasses to live by. So they told themselves.

That's why the presence of Rock Trolls at this moment made Hickory's blood run cold. Could it be possible somehow, some way, they had been found out? That whatever Queen Barb was up to, she was looking for them? What is it that she’d need them for anyway?

No. Their plan worked perfectly. Blend in as a Country Troll, lay low for a while, only do the occasional "job" when the opportunity presented itself, just until the Queen of Rock cooled her head or went through with... whatever she is planning.

Not a soul knew about Hickory and Dickory being here.

Well.

Unless you counted, July.

Miss July, the owner of the Ranch. A rather interesting Troll.

A Pop-Country Troll. The only mixed genre Troll around these parts. Unlike her four legged, centaur, Country loving neighbors; she walked on two legs... well, hooves. Her appearance could be compared to a more "Satyr" like build, with a perfect blend of both genres in her appearance. The bright colors of a Pop Troll, but the sturdy build of that of a Country Troll.

A Tough, stern older lady-Troll, with a heart of gold.

Running this place all on her own, while tending to her extremely elderly parents.

That's one of the reasons he never expected any visitors here. Nobody in town wanted anything to do with Miss July or her family. Didn't much like associating with “their kind” if they could help it. Though you'd never hear them say it in polite conversation. But that suited Miss July just fine. That's how she liked it. Ever since Miss July and her folks suffered a terrible loss to their family, decades ago, she rarely went into town if she could help it.

Which on one such occasion, is when she stumbled upon the Yodelers, in their first attempts at putting together their  “Country Persona”.

They had been camping not too far from her Ranch and the Town, when she found them both, struggling to even walk in time together, in a pair of poorly made four legged pants.

July took their word as Gospel. That they were just fulfilling a lifelong dream of wanting to, in some way, be a Country Troll. So she offered them a place to stay and to show them the ropes on what it meant to be a Country Troll. If they agreed to work for her at her family’s Ranch.

"Until you feel you can stand on yer own four hooves!' She teased.

It could be easily wagered that July being an outcast in her own community, could be a factor of sympathy she felt towards them, making her wanting to help any way she could, and possibly what made her not judgmental in the least. That, and as tough as she put herself on as, she was sweet as apple pie, through and through.

Which did make Hickory especially, feel guilty about not being more upfront with her. As much as he could be anyhow.

Especially so, when the occasional “job opportunity" presented itself around Lonesome Flats during the Yodelers free time. Turns out, there were plenty of Trolls who had a bone to pick with others, or needed matters settled around these parts. Not to mention, crooks-a-plenty to turn in.

But both brothers always repented.  By being very diligent working for Miss July on the Ranch. Anything she needed done, got done. It was the least they could do for what she had done for them for these last two months. So the last thing needed was for anything to get ugly around here.

As Hickory approached closer and closer, he could feel his brother tensing up.

"Easy.” He whispered under his breath, smirking, patting behind him in attempts to calm his hotheaded companion. While still maintaining a nonchalant and calm demeanor.

Having spent a fair amount of time in Volcano Rock City for past jobs, and even on several occasions for other clients; needing to spend time incognito as Rock Trolls, it was fairly easy to recognize them from afar.

Upon closer inspection, it did come across as rather curious to see them wearing Country attire. They couldn't be trying to blend in, could they?

No. Not by the way these two held themselves.  

One Troll in various shades of blue in appearance, the other in peculiar shades of green from toe to tip. Both faces, still covered by wide brimmed hats. The blue Troll's demeanor was nervous right from the jump. Their green companion, holding them by the hand, grounding them. As if to keep them from sprinting away at a moment's notice. Both looking tired from the trek they must have taken from town to get to the Ranch property and from the sun's unforgiving afternoon rays.

Nothing but what seemed to be electric guitars and simple backpacks on their backs. However, these were definitely the most impressive guitars Hickory had seen in all his life.

The blue Troll’s, from what he could make out, was sage in color and looked as if it was made of some large critter's battered wing. Almost bat or reptilian in nature. The green Troll’s guitar, an imposing, venomous violet, crafted by what could only could be guessed as being once the claw and stinger of some scorpion-type critter. One he certainly wouldn't want to tango with. 

Lackeys of Queen Barb’s? No... couldn't be.

"Nobody knows we're here"

"We've been so careful."

He repeated over and over to himself. Almost mantra-like. He really had no reason to be this paranoid he kept reminding himself.

“Who are the most feared Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries in all Trolldom?”

“The Yodel brothers. That's who.” He smirked at that last thought. Puffing his broad chest a bit more, in response to his inner pep-talk.

And no Troll, no matter now--

"H--Howdy!" The blue Troll, clearing their voice, shakily called out.

"Right fine day, isn't it?"

The traveler seemed to ease into the drawl like putting on an old pair of comfy shoes, and with each word, their confidence seemed to boost. Stepping forward from their green companion, they removed their wide brim hat and gandered up at Hickory, with a small smile that damn near made his heart leap through his throat. In a good way?

That was...unexpected.

His usual quick witted mind and tongue, on the spot turned into a train that just left the station.

Those eyes. Absolutely pierced him right through. Large, inquisitive, pale, cerulean eyes. Staring right at him under dark lashes, and surrounded by a cascade of cobalt freckles.

The closest shade of color he could compare those eyes to were a color he hadn't thought of in ages. Snow. Snow that as a Trolling he played in. Usually when you found yourself making forts or laying in heeps that came up so high, you would look, and you'd catch the glimmering sunlight, shining through it. A shade of blue that just melted you to the core and drew out a smile, without you being the wiser.

"Right fine.”  he responded. Recovering from his wandering mind.

No time to be side tracked by an adorable, freckled, blue-eyed Troll. With sweet, curvy features, who has solid looking muscles that look they could easily crush--

"How can I help you? You folks seem a bit far away from home. Don't get a lot of Rock Trolls around these parts.”

Thank goodness his voice seemed to be the one on track; at the task at hand.

“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”

The green Troll stepped forward, hotly, removing their own hat, as to glare directly at him. Sizing him up. Only a tad taller, but much more lithe in figure to their companion. Definitely much more fierce. Not just in attitude, but in appearance. Their eyes, deep as sapphires. Teeth, the bottom row protruding two large tusk-like lower canines. Ears, pointed back and just as sharp as their claws, which he found himself one the other end of, being pointed at. Just as he felt his hair prickle, preparing himself for what was bound to happen next, the tension was immediately neutralized.

"It's okay Mess” The blue Troll cooed, calming the green one.

"Sorry to just come on over uninvited, but uh, does a Troll named July still live here?"

"You mean Miss July? Sure does. Why, if You don't mind my askin’?"

"Well you see, she's my... can--can I please talk to her? If she's around here today?”

A good long pause washed over the three.

Hickory could feel the trepidation radiating from Dickory behind him as he swished "their tail' in annoyance. Normally, if this was any other situation, it'd be too bad for these two. He'd send them right on their way, or worse if it came to it. They seemed capable. They had guitars, they were Rock Trolls. Random Rock Trolls, showing up, asking for not himself or his brother, but Miss July. Out of all the Country Trolls in Lonesome Flats.

But the waves of anxiety radiating from this freckled Troll were massive; and when their friend wasn't staring daggers at his direction, they were gazing so tenderly and sympathetically at them. These weren't agents of Queen Barbs. These seemed like folks on a sad mission of delivering news, or something of the like. They looked as though this was the last place they would ever want to be.

Dickory always insisted that Hickory was too quick to let his heart think first before his head when it came to their line of work. He didn't see it that way though. Hickory thought himself a good judge of character. Hell, that's why they found themselves in this situation now. Tipping his hat in a friendly manner, he smiled at the two.

"Well, why dontcha follow me then. I'm sure Miss July is making lunch right about now. You folks are just in time. Name's Hickory"

"Messy." replied the green.

The blue Troll remained silent.

"Adorabull got yer tongue cutie?" he teased

Those freckled cheeks lit up in seconds, a flushed lavender. Too cute.

"Somethin' like that' They smiled sheepishly.

All the while, as Hickory walked with the two up to the main building on the property, they stuck to idle chit-chat. About the weather or the nearby town. They passed by many of the fences that housed just some of Miss July's critters. As well as a few stables, paddocks, a decent sized workshed, and the small house the Yodelers had been staying in since they arrived here. It was once they passed that particular building, the blue Rocker stopped in their tracks momentarily. Just staring. Almost trance-like. They only moved again once Messy had firmly grabbed their hand and they followed.

Finally, they reached the main building's porch. The family home. Without any prompting, the two travelers waited at the bottom steps of the porch. Hickory nodded, thinking that might be best. He walked up to the open door. The wafting aroma of today's lunch filling his nostrils. Chili with sweet rolls? If he wasn't mistaken, he could smell fresh squeezed lemonade too. Knowing better to barge in while she was in the Kitchen...

"Pardon me, Miss July?" he called out.

"Dammit Hic, I told ya once, I'll tell ya again. Lunch is on when I ring the damn bell, that's when it’s good and ready!"

Hickory couldn't help but chuckle. That July was a firecracker.

"It's got nothin' to do with that Miss. You see, You've got yourself some visitors."

"For the last time Hic, just call me Jul--"

July emerged from the doorway, holding in each hand a glass of lemonade with mint garnish. No doubt as something to appease the Yodelers until lunch was done. As soon as her eyes met the two travelers, she stopped dead in her tracks. Glaring at them something fierce.

"These two are the visitors I was talkin' about."

"Rock Trolls, huh? Here? Whaddya want?"

The blue traveler, clearing their throat, voice cracking; they smiled, eyes glazed and sparkling with unshed tears. Staring at July as if a secret wish had been granted.

"Aunty Ju-Ju? It's m-me. It's Bloo. I'm home."

Bloo? That Bloo? Could it really be? Hickory didn't need to dwell on that too long though. July suddenly yelped out loud, in such a way that it startled absolutely everyone. Including herself apparently because those glasses in her hands dropped and shattered to bits.

"You couldn't be-- w-what kind of game are ya playin’ at?!"

July at a loss for words. This was serious. There she stood, knees buckling, lip quivering, tail thrashing. Unable to look away from the Troll in front of them at the end of her porch. A look of torment across their face.

Slowly, the freckled Troll smiled sadly, and reached behind their back for their instrument. Hickory acted quickly, putting himself between the two. Staring intently at the Rocker. They stared back, as they slowly brought the instrument forward.

"Please. Let me play?"

Hickory's nostrils flared, biting down hard on the straw in his mouth. How was he so stupid? Well, he wouldn't be fooled this time.

*~strum~*

Though the guitar was imposing and electric, with a stroke of their hand, it played a long, twangy, unmistakable, Country cord.

Silence.

Laying a hand on Hickory's shower, July gently moved him aside, her attention almost trance-like on the player. Waiting.

As if they understood, they shifted and picked up their guitar in earnest. Strumming again, but to a much more upbeat melody. Much more upbeat than most Country music Hickory had heard around town that he grew to enjoy. This sounded more... Pop? Much more like something he'd hear July singing on a day she was in a particularly good mood. Or something July’s elderly mother, the Pop Troll of the family might hum.

That's when they began to sing along, starting off slowly and gaining strength with each note. A large smile on their face as tears cascaded down their round cheeks. As if putting on the show of their lives. It was raw, and beautiful.

"She loves rock ‘n’ roll,

they said it's demons’ tongue,

She thinks they're too old.

They think she's too young,

And the battle lines are clearly drawn.”

“She's a wild one,

with an angel's face,

She's a lovely Troll in a state of grace,

When she was three years old on her daddy's knee,

He said you can be anythin’ you wanna be.

She's a wild one.

Runnin' free."

“She has future plans,

and dreams at night,

they tell her life is hard,

she smiles, sayin’ “that’s alright”, yeah!”

“She’s a wild one,

With an angel’s face,

She’s a lovely Troll in a state of grace,

When she was three years old on her daddy’s knee,

He said you can be anythin’ you wanna be.

She’s a wild one.

Runnin’ free.”

"She's a wild one”~~

"~~Runnin' free.”  July finished and sobbed the last line.

"That was the song I wrote for your Mama... all them years ago..My Bloo. My little ‘Bloo-Jay’ came home!"

Hickory stood fully aside now, allowing the two to embrace, for what he now had realized had been the first time in more than two decades. An embrace that both warmed and broke your heart, all at the same time. This was July's pride and joy. Her niece. Bloo, the only child of July's older sister June.

June and July were extremely close sisters. Best friends even.

June was a very free spirited Troll who fancied herself a part-time singer at one of the local bars in town. On one of these trips to town, she met a traveling Rock Troll by the name of Ziggy. Busking for food and drink. Let's just say, it didn't take long at all until wedding bells were ringing and Ziggy was part of the happy family here on the Ranch. The couple waited a while before having a Trolling. The two were busy enjoying married life, Ziggy took June traveling, fulfilling her dreams of seeing life outside Lonesome Flats. And wherever they went, they were singing up a storm. When they returned home to settle down, at any bar or club, or bingo hall that would have them, they continued singing their hearts out. Occasionally even dragging July along. The three of them became inseparable. Especially after Bloo was born. The townsfolk even seemed to warm up to the entire, oddball family. It was all turning up roses for the family finally, after what felt like ages of trying to live in harmony. But it all came to a crushing end. 

Shortly after Bloo turned five years old, a serious, contagious illness spread throughout Lonesome Flats. Most folks who caught it, eventually recovered, but there were eight fatalities in the end. June was one of them. The family was torn to pieces by June’s passing. Ziggy just wasn't the same Troll after. A year passed and just as they thought things might slowly start looking up, Ziggy and Bloo were gone.

Apparently he had packed himself and Bloo up one night, and just left without a word. July knew he had family back home in Volcano Rock City, and figured that is where he would take Bloo to raise them. But July dared not go there. For good reason. A Pop-Country Troll, travel to Volcano Rock City?  Demand her niece back from a heartbroken father? While leaving her extremely elderly parents to fend for themselves? No. July would be turned away or torn to pieces. King Thrash at the time was feared for good reason in those days and most Trolls feared Rock Trolls the most out of all the other Tribes.

July and her folks basically moved on by learning to mourn the loss of June, Bloo, and Ziggy. They never expected to ever see Bloo or Ziggy again. Yet here Bloo was. Embracing their aunt, while Hickory and Messy looked on fondly. His smile grew wider as he realized how overjoyed July's folks: Clay and May, would be to see their grand-baby again. Something they thought they'd never live to see.

He could see it now that he got a better look at Bloo, as they were bombarded with kisses and hugs, that they did share a little resemblance to their Pop-Country Aunt. Though without a doubt, they took after their father Ziggy the most. No wonder Bloo wasn't easily recognizable at first glance, they looked so different in comparison to how they looked back then as a Trolling.

Who would have thought that he'd meet the Troll who's childhood pictures adorned the home he and his brother were staying in? Which happened to be Bloo's Old family home on the Ranch. The same house they had stopped to stare at on their way to the main house.

"Small world we live in!” He barked with laughter.

"Welcome home Miss Bloo, glad to meetcha." And he meant it, whole heartedly.

"Glad to be home again.”

END.

(Song used was Faith Hill’s ‘Wild One’. Tweaked for this story)

[dramaticviolincrescendo]

Rewatching Shameless and i just watched 6x1 jail scene. Can I request a meta if its not too much trouble? I feel like reading a really good meta about that scene and you're one of the best we've got so.....

It’s never any trouble at all! That’s so sweet to say—thank you so much! <3 Kind of coming to terms with the idea that anyone cares about my opinion over here. You guys are too much!

This scene is actually extremely important to me because it and the response to it were what made me start writing Shameless fanfiction, specifically when I saw that my views regarding Ian’s behavior and how Mickey received it were so vastly different from what I initially read. (Insert shameless plug for “That Milkovich Reputation” here.) Now, I know you’ve told me not to do this before, but based on the controversial position in which this scene resides, I feel the need to present a couple of disclaimers for our audience at large.

I first fell in love with Shameless last March, a couple weeks before quarantine began. I didn’t know what it was prior to that and therefore was not present when Noel left the show, so I didn’t experience the disappointment of a beloved character leaving in a potentially permanent way and didn’t engage in the fandom or see how deeply upset people were by that until after I finished the series. I also don’t subscribe to the theory that there was something going on behind the scenes or any animosity between Noel and the creators, as I have not seen any relevant evidence from reliable sources to support that what happened was anything other than decisions made in pursuit of career goals on both sides. As such, my analysis of this scene has only ever taken the content and context of the story and characters into account. I have no interest in speculating on the motives of people I do not know in writing it or portraying it this way, and even if I did, this scene made perfect sense to me as it was written and performed.

I understand and appreciate that this is not a popular position to take and urge everyone to pass this post by if my position on that matter is offensive or upsetting to you. I do not mean to tell anyone what to think or believe, only to explain how I view this scene and the context in which I do so.

That said, let’s begin.

When Last Seen: Mickey

As in all things, context is important. Prior to the prison scene, the last time we saw Mickey was when Ian broke up with him and Sammi interrupted their heartfelt moment, which basically sums up her character in a nutshell. That was a rough couple of days for Mickey. He saw how devastated Ian was to hear his family talk about him as though he were just like Monica; was distressed in his own right to return for him and discover that he’d left the base with Monica; buried his frustration and sadness by sleeping around with other people, which seemed to exacerbate those emotions because those people weren’t Ian, nor had he and Ian broken up when he did it; and came running when Ian called him, only for Ian to end their relationship.

Mickey is a very sharp man—we know this. He can read people like books and manipulate or intimidate them accordingly. He knew Ian had feelings for him in s1 when he showed up on his doorstep seeking comfort rather than going to any number of other people he trusted. He was well aware that Ian loved him in s3, and that made what he felt he had no choice in doing that much more painful. He heard what Ian said and knew what he was doing in 5x12. Of that, I have never had any doubt. It wasn’t like Ian tried to hide that he didn’t want to break up but thought that that was what would be best. In fact, the way he initially framed it always made me think that one of his highest priorities was not dragging Mickey down with him, especially in the aftermath of being called “destructive” and similar to someone who “put them through hell.” That’s why Mickey’s response wasn’t to call him an asshole or get angry or beg. It was to reassure Ian that he was there for the long haul, that he loved him and wanted to take care of him no matter what that meant—and that they could make that work. All the sentiments Ian had tried to communicate before he got married, Mickey was reciprocating in his own way. Had they not needed to temporarily write Mickey out of the story and Sammi hadn’t shown up right that second, I believe that he wouldn’t have given up so easily. We do have confirmation of that being the case in the prison scene, but we’ll get to that shortly.

When Last Seen: Ian

Ian isn’t a selfish character. We know this, too. However, Ian needed to be selfish by the end of s5. What he had to come to terms with wasn’t something that anyone could fully help him with, much as Mickey desperately wanted to. To Ian, the enemy was within. It was inside him, in his brain, telling him what to do even if that destroyed himself and everything he loved. It’s terrifying. I’m not bipolar, nor do I suffer from any other diagnosed mental illnesses, but I admire and respect everyone who wakes up every morning and tackles these things. They’re heroes every single day. But by the end of s5, Ian doesn’t feel much like a hero. Instead, he feels like the villain, and he’s lost touch with who he even is anymore.

That’s not a healthy mindset to have in a relationship. Relationships require a level of give and take, and that used to be something that Ian and Mickey already struggled with. Ian gave more in s1-3 because he was able to, while Mickey had a limit on what he could openly give because of the environment in which he lived and the manner in which he was raised. In s4-5, those roles were reversed: Mickey was able to give so much more, but Ian was gradually falling apart. Neither of them are at fault for any of those situations. It is what it is, and they have a stronger relationship for it. Ian is a giver, though. He’s always been a giver. To be in a position where he doesn’t feel like he can give anything to Mickey because he doesn’t even know who he is was truly heartbreaking for him, and objectively, he needed to take a step back so that he could focus on himself. He knew it. Based on Mickey’s understanding of Ian’s reasons after watching him deny that he had a problem for so long, I think Mickey knew it too. This hurt both of them—Ian to say it and Mickey to hear it—but they’re not fools and they’re not naïve. In some ways, they know each other better than anyone.

Jimmy said that when you’re on a plane, they tell you to put on your mask before you help anyone else with theirs. Ian needed to put on his mask. His heart can’t keep beating if his lungs don’t work.

Starting Season 6: Mickey

Unsurprisingly, Mickey has settled into prison life just fine. We’ll focus on his interactions with Ian in a bit as that’s the meat of the scene, but there are major implications inherent in his discussion with Svetlana beforehand.

1.      Mickey has accepted that this will be his reality for the foreseeable future. What else is he supposed to do? Besides, he’s known for a long time that the likelihood of ending up in prison was pretty high for him, as he alluded to in s2. He was a street thug. He stole from local stores, sold drugs, ran guns, operated a rub ‘n’ tug, created scam companies, and was a generally violent presence in the neighborhood for years. He was in juvie twice during the show, perhaps more beforehand. The unfortunate fact of the matter is that it would have been more surprising if Mickey didn’t get locked up at some point than that he did.

2.      Ian has visited Mickey before. We won’t get too deeply into this yet, but he thanks Ian for “coming back.” The other times, he wasn’t even paid to do it. So, as far as Mickey can tell, nothing has changed. Ian is focusing on himself right now, but his love for Mickey hasn’t dulled at all. That’s an encouraging thought, and it certainly puts a smile on Mickey’s face.

3.      Ever the opportunist and entrepreneur, Mickey really is doing just fine in prison. He runs a business, if you will, that appears to be quite lucrative already. This isn’t surprising either. Sadly, it’s a bad move. He’s already going to be in prison for somewhere around a decade, give or take a couple of years depending on his behavior. But his behavior isn’t good. He’s hurting people for money, and if he gets caught and brought up on more charges, not only will he serve the full fifteen years, but he could get more time added onto that.

4.      Ian is aware of this arrangement. He has to be if he’s been going there with Svetlana, and they weren’t exactly hiding what they were talking about. Ian has been very consistent throughout the series: he’s not as concerned with the moral implications of Mickey’s behavior, just how it could potentially impact their ability to be together. He still cares about Mickey at the start of s6, and Mickey can see it on his face when he won’t say it out loud. (More on that shortly.) Once he’s in a better spot mentally, maybe they would have gotten back together had Mickey been on the outside. I’m of the opinion that they would have based on the context of the situation. It isn’t an option, however. This is Mickey’s reality, and he’s not doing everything he can to get out earlier. If anything, he’s tempting fate on not being released at all. (This, in hindsight, sounds rather similar to the issues they’re dealing with right now in s11.)

So, this is where Mickey stands at the start of the season: a prison hitman who is quite pleased that the man he loves has come to see him again, even if the latter is visibly not in a very healthy mental state.

Starting Season 6: Ian

Ian isn’t in most of 6x01. What we do see of him is typically sad or colored by his frustration, outside Carl’s welcome home party at the end of the episode. Even then, there’s an aura of discomfort that accompanies the family’s knowledge that things have changed. Carl came out of juvie a different person—they’re all different people after s5, and they’re not sure how to handle walking on eggshells around each other.

From the very start of the episode, we see that Ian is still struggling even though he’s had enough time to at least partially adjust to his medication, especially if he’s been on and off of it. It’s so sweet how Fiona gently wakes him up—it’s also a bit different. What happened to banging on the bunk bed and yelling for them to come down for breakfast? After behaving pretty normally with Debbie at the bathroom door, she’s almost handling him with kid gloves, and the punches keep coming when she reminds him that he (1) has to get up for work at a place he despises and (2) needs to remember to take his meds.

The kitchen scene is extremely telling of where Ian is at this point, and it partially shows why he’s somewhat standoffish by the time we reach the prison scene. Most of the family is gone or different. Fiona is repeatedly on him about meds and getting to work on time—Ian, Mister Responsible himself who was out of the house before anybody woke up to get to work on time as a kid. Lip is at college. Debbie is absorbed in her unconfirmed but likely pregnancy. Carl is in juvie, and Liam is playing with the switchblade he found under Carl’s pillow before they take him to pre-K. His entire support system is either gone or treating him like he’s broken. All he has is Fiona “going Fiona” on everyone. It’s clear that this is impacting him because he actually derails the conversation to say that they should go visit Carl the following weekend, which was the position Debbie used to be in when Fiona was in jail. Just like Lip shut her down, Debbie shuts Ian down, and he doesn’t say another word as he drinks his coffee—which he can’t finish because Fiona is once again on him about work, so he trudges out the door to another day of being a busboy with no dreams instead of a soldier who has a future.

Work isn’t much better. Svetlana wants him to go see Mickey when he’s determined to stay away. (We don’t have confirmation, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that he wants to distance himself if Mickey is doing something that will potentially get him into even more trouble, especially given some of his reactions at the prison.) Sean is sending Fiona to nag him about not moving fast enough when the diner isn’t even busy. When Otis is chased down by the cops and slammed against the front window, Sean rather condescendingly tells him to, “take your rag and wipe the blood and snot off the window.” Ian—West Point-aspiring, ambitious, courageous, caring, intelligent, hardworking Ian has been reduced to wiping up someone’s snot by a boss who’s living in his house with a sister that’s treating him like he’s shattered glass and a family that is growing further and further apart these days.

That is the day Ian has had before he even arrives at the prison. Odds are that that is how most of his days have gone for quite some time, minus the blood and snot. …Maybe.

The Prison Scene

Now we come to it: what you actually asked about! It’s taken this long to get here because we can’t possibly interpret this scene effectively without incorporating all of what came before it. Mickey’s position is regrettable, but he knows that Ian still loves him and is at least handling his situation with all the grace and competence that we can expect from him. Ian is a bit of a mess who’s had a bad day and is now faced with the man he loves, who he is telling himself he can’t be with, sitting behind glass—where he’ll be for a good long while.

I’m going to divide this analysis into two sections. For a scene that many prefer to forget, to me, it’s a masterpiece of storytelling.

Physicality

The body language in this scene is remarkable—phenomenally blocked, phenomenally directed, and phenomenally portrayed.

When Mickey first appears, he’s visibly chomping at the bit to get to the visitation area. He’s peering out there while he’s still behind a locked door, and he only diverts his gaze to the guard because he’s waiting for him to unlock it. He’s cool about the whole thing—he’s very cool—but he’s obviously also here for one reason and one reason only. That reason is where his eyes go the moment he sits down at his stall and spots Ian’s coat where the latter is pacing behind Svetlana. Throughout their entire conversation, we see his eyes darting to Ian as he attempts to get the business out of the way so that he can indulge purely in the pleasure. It doesn’t matter to him that Ian is visibly tired and reluctant to be there or that he plays with Yevgeny instead of actively joining their conversation. It’s Ian, and all Mickey has to look at in here is a bunch of fellow thugs he hasn’t loved since he was too young to know what that meant. Damn right, he’s going to shamelessly watch him.

In Ian’s pacing, where we can’t see his face, I find it interesting that he keeps himself angled away from the glass. We see more of his back even though he’s moving side to side rather than away. He doesn’t want to see this. He doesn’t want to be there. In s7, he told Mickey how hard it was to see him behind glass—that wasn’t an excuse. He wasn’t falsely trying to make it sound like he was suffering at their separation just as much as Mickey was. We can see that that’s the case right here in 6x01. Ian has never had a problem sitting still through difficult moments, not even when a potential court martial that would further ruin his life was on the table. But this? He can’t sit down. He can’t face that.

The first time he turns directly towards Mickey’s location is so that Svetlana can hand Yevgeny off to him, and Mickey is visibly loving the view. His expression gets a bit softer, and he ducks his head a little so that he can catch a glimpse of Ian’s face. He follows Ian with his eyes even though Svetlana tries to get his attention. What a blast from the past, right? Ian there with his son, taking care of him while he and Svetlana figure out their business? And just like before, he offers Svetlana all of the attention and input that he deems her worth—next to nothing. Ian’s over there. Ian’s keeping the kid entertained, playing with him and rocking a bit in their seat and leaning over his little shoulder to make sure he’s doing okay—but forget that, Mickey’s eyes are examining him from red hair to beat-up shoes. He only glances back to Svetlana because he has to in order to get the information for their next paycheck. Even then, he’s still back and forth, up and down.

And Ian? He can’t keep pacing. He can’t stay turned away, but he won’t look. He occupies himself more than Yevgeny because now he’s low enough that he won’t just see an orange jumpsuit—he’ll see Mickey, and he’s had a bad enough day with his family making him feel more alone than ever without adding that pain on top of it. (This is the third time Mickey’s been locked up for something directly or indirectly related to Ian. I’m sure it’s not unreasonable to suspect that he also feels somewhat guilty about that, especially when it happened right after he broke it off.)

When Mickey asks if Ian is going to sit back there the whole time and not interact with him, Svetlana turns around and presumably says something to get his attention. Their eyes meet, and Mickey gives him a look that clearly says, “What the fuck, man?” This isn’t the behavior of a man who is heartbroken at their relationship ending or questioning Ian’s love for him. This is the behavior of a man who wants the love of his life to get his shit together enough to come say hi to him—or at least look at him—because he can’t pretend that he doesn’t want to see Mickey as much as Mickey wants to see him. It’s impossible to hide that when Ian has let Mickey see so much of his heart over the years.

Ian’s response is so fascinating because he does meet Mickey’s eyes, and he holds that connection for a moment. Then, reading what Mickey is trying to tell him, he actually turns further away again so that Mickey gets his shoulder. This sets the stage for the rest of Ian’s development from now through s9. He’s doing what Ian does: he’s compartmentalizing. He’s taking the emotions he can’t deal with right now, wrapping them in tissue paper, and neatly stacking them in a box that he’ll put up in the attic where he can pretend they don’t exist. But they do. They really do.

If they didn’t, he wouldn’t have spent their entire conversation trying so hard to focus on literally anything but Mickey, because as we saw in the Hall of Shame flashbacks and as has been obvious since their first fight-turned-fuck, once they look, the battle is lost.

Dialogue

I’m going to be real with you guys: I adore this scene. I’ve watched it more times than I can count even though I haven’t rewatched much of the season in its entirety. There was so much said with so few words, and while I was sad at the end, I was also hopeful. This was an impossible position to be put in on both sides, and I truly believe that this was the best resolution they could get at the time. And yes, it hurt. It was painful. But why was it painful?

Because they’re so visibly, obviously, irrevocably in love.

Mickey’s tone when he tells Svetlana to leave because he wants to talk to Ian isn’t as harsh as it’s been for the rest of their visit. There’s such a disconnect between his words and tone: roughly telling her to scram while actually sounding a bit younger at the idea of speaking directly with Ian. Svetlana could tell. It’s so clear, and her smirk is super knowing. In that moment, we’re seeing the woman who stood in the doorway of what was supposed to be her bedroom and watched him make eyes at this unconscious boy she didn’t really even remember. Not in the tears and realizing she was in big, big trouble if he left her, but in the understanding that his heart isn’t in the body on the other side of the glass—it’s sitting behind her. There are a lot of things I don’t like about Svetlana as a person (as a character, she’s amazing), but since they reached their agreement in s4, she’s never had a derogatory thing to say about the love those two share, and I respect that. It’s actually a bit cute how she takes her time and is almost teasing in giving him what he wants. A bit.

As I have this scene running on repeat so that I don’t miss anything in writing this, I paused to type and ended up on such a meaningful glance at Ian’s face. Svetlana just took Yevgeny from him, and he hasn’t gotten up yet. He’s staring straight at Mickey, and he looks hesitant. Scared, almost. Then he looks up at Svetlana, nods a bit, and reluctantly moves into her spot.

Is it overkill to take this one exchange at a time? Probably. Am I going to do it anyway? Hell to the yes.

1.      “Thanks for coming back.”/”Yeah… Svetlana paid me.” – I know that people hate this line and think this is painful. I know that it objectively is painful. I still laugh every time. Not because Ian agreed to come if he was paid. (He’s got medication to afford and no insurance. I can’t begrudge him wanting to make a few extra bucks any way he can.) Not because of the words, but because of what accompanies them. Ian will not look at Mickey—he’s lost so many battles lately, and he can’t lose this one too. Not when he started this one himself. He’s hemming and hawing, not looking up from the countertop and then twisting around to see if Svetlana is still there or anyone else is listening. It’s so stupid, because literally no one cares, but it gives you this sensation that Ian sees himself as being under a microscope the whole time. That’s his life anymore, at home and at work and now here. And Mickey? He doesn’t look terribly broken up about Ian accepting payment in exchange for coming. He gets this expression that I interpreted as, “Seriously? You’re playing it like that?” Then it settles into disappointment that Ian won’t open up or look at him like he normally would—that the glass interferes with the magnetic pull between them. But don’t worry, children. Uncle Mickey has just the thing to fix that: himself.

2.      “You look good.”/*awkward silence* – I mean…what do you say to that? I actually felt so bad for Ian there because what must he have looked like these last visits if Mickey is telling him that he looks good now? What kind of mess was he then when he’s still sort of a mess today? And he can’t even return the sentiment because how can he? Mickey is in prison. He’s in a jumpsuit looking at being here so long that he’ll probably have a few grey hairs starting to grow in when he gets out. I don’t know how to respond when people tell me I look good on an average day, so I can only imagine how that must have felt in his position. And still, he won’t do more than glance in Mickey’s direction. Well, if that didn’t work…

3.      Mickey chuckles and says he got a new tattoo. Ian’s eyes immediately shoot upwards, and Mickey slouches a little so that he’s in their direct line of sight—to hold them there, because once they look, the battle is lost. And Ian does lose. For a while there, he can’t look away again. First, because Mickey is courting some pretty nasty illnesses with his improper use of needles. Seriously, Mickey, a beautiful gesture but holy crap. Second, Mickey has his name (or a very close approximation to it) tattooed forever right over his heart. Ian had asked if Mickey was going to marry him, and Mickey told him to fuck off, but everything he’s doing points in the opposite direction. He promised sickness and health; now he’s made a permanent mark on his body for everyone to see. Mickey, who wouldn’t be seen in public with him once upon a time, has plastered Ian’s name onto his body. Ian tries so hard not to let that impact him, but it’s over. He’s lost the battle already, and he falls further and further. He’s smiling when he tells Mickey it looks infected, he teases him about the misspelling (which I think says more about how much that tattoo must have hurt than any inability to spell on Mickey’s part—I’d have a typo too), and he laughs at Mickey’s irritation that he messed it up. And it’s this sweet little laugh, not cruel or hurtful or mean. The wonderful thing about humor is that it can be used to cope with difficult emotions. We’ve seen a lot of people on the show start laughing when they’re in a bad place. Ian has been trying so hard to accept his life as it is even during the shitty day he was having. He tried so hard not to let himself fall into the trap of letting his love for Mickey rule his actions in the scene so far. That’s a lot. That’s denying himself to the point where I’m sure it hurts. And so he laughs, because Mickey did this crazy, absurd thing for him and yeah, it came out wrong, but he did it. This was all Ian wanted once upon a time (minus the felony), and now he has it—but he can’t have it. So he laughs. He immediately moves to hide it, but he laughs. He smiles more and has to bend away to pretend that he’s not—and Mickey lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree. This is the moment that keeps me from seeing this scene or Ian’s actions as being cruel. They’re both hurting, and this is an awful position to be in. But Ian loves him so much, and Mickey was doing everything he could to make him show it. Not exactly how he saw that going, I’m sure, but he’ll take it.

4.      “Been thinking about you.” – Knowing that he lost that one, Ian looks away again. While the end of this scene will hurt for both of them, especially Mickey, think about the pain he must be feeling in that moment simply because he’s not. He’s not hurting. For the first time that day, he feels good. This can’t last. Mickey isn’t coming home with him when time is up. This wonderful emotion that filled him up enough for him to laugh and smile after such a bad day will be gone the second he hangs up that phone. Then he’s going to go home and have Fiona breathing down his neck with nobody else for support. And Mickey will be here—behind glass. He can’t handle that, and he pulls that box out again and starts tearing off the tissue paper. He has to get rid of this feeling. He has to be the one to put it away before it kicks him to the curb. He’s stubborn, and Mickey can see him shutting down but also knows that he’s knocked enough bricks out of Ian’s walls to say something softer, something emotional and closer to the heart. Something he is willing to say where the other inmates can hear, which I don’t think is lost on Ian since he immediately looks up again. He doesn’t look away either, not even when Mickey asks if Ian thinks about him. He glances to the side and opens his mouth a bit, but nothing comes out. Mickey knows the answer.

5.      “Gonna wait for me?”/”You’re here for fifteen years.” – There’s this thing Mickey does after he first says that. He chuckles, because he knows that that’s pretty unreasonable to ask and has already predicted Ian’s response. His comment about being out in eight is lighthearted, a serious matter spoken as a joke because…this isn’t juvie anymore. They’re not going to see each other in a few months. This is Mickey’s version of what Ian was just doing, only where Ian tried to withdraw and escape within himself, Mickey is making it more humorous. He’s always done that, make light of pretty serious things to avoid looking at just how messed up it is. But I didn’t get the feeling he was really asking for Ian to wait that long. Instead, I got the feeling that he was testing the waters, seeing if Ian would shut him down—which he didn’t. He offered the bullshit excuse that Mickey tried to kill a member of his family, and Mickey saw through that immediately. I think he knows that he can’t ask Ian to seriously wait and never be with anyone else for fifteen years, or even for eight. I think he knows what he’s saying is a touch absurd. He also knows that Ian’s excuse is extremely absurd, and he doesn’t buy it for a second. It gives him a little courage to do something…well, a bit absurd.

6.      “Will you? Wait? Fucking lie if you have to, man. Eight years is a long time.” – I think the important part of this isn’t that Ian says he’ll wait when he doesn’t mean it, which is the popular take. For one thing, I don’t think we can ascribe that level of calculated behavior to Ian in this instance. There are a few things about this part of the scene that mean a lot to me: (1) Ian doesn’t get up and go. He doesn’t even move in that direction. He sits there with the phone after the buzzer sounds and before Mickey tells him to lie. His mouth opens and closes like he’s not sure what to say. Because what can he say? If Mickey serves the maximum, Ian will be in his mid-thirties by the time they can be together. At that point, he was either nearing eighteen or just turned. I still can’t fathom what I’ll be doing in my mid-thirties, and I’m a whole lot older than that. Ian looks just a little terrified here, and that’s because he knows he loves Mickey but has no clue what he’s supposed to do with that in the impossible circumstances they’re operating under. (2) Ian can’t even see himself moving on yet. He’s still trying to figure himself out, not think about a relationship. He has a job he hates, and his family is a different brand of chaos these days. He feels alone, yes, but not in a way that has him openly desperate for a relationship. Based on what he says to Mandy about Caleb, I think it’s pretty safe to assume that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be in a serious relationship at this point or even in a position for more than casual sex anytime in the near future. How can he say that he’ll wait when he doesn’t know where he’ll be whenever Mickey does get out? Maybe he’ll feel better. Maybe he’ll be out of his mind, roaming all over the place like Monica. Maybe he won’t just be standing on that bridge. It’s a huge question, one that has a lot of ramifications no matter what his answer is, and Ian clearly has none. He’s blindsided by that, which Mickey sees. That’s when he gets serious about those eight years, about how absurd their situation really is. That’s perhaps the first and only time in this scene where we can see that, for as successful as he is at navigating prison, his freedom means something to him. His freedom means he wouldn’t have to coax a glance out of Ian—he could kiss his dumb ass and make him stop being stubborn about how much he loves Mickey. But he can’t. He won’t be able to for a long time. And I think that is what really breaks his heart in this scene, not…

7.      “Yeah. Yeah, Mick, I’ll wait.” – Did anyone else notice how Ian swallowed hard before he answered? How his voice gets hoarse when he first speaks? I paused again to type, and the video is sitting on his face staring at the counter before the second part of what he says. He looks like he might cry. He looks like his heart is breaking just as much as Mickey’s is, because he can do what he’s asking this time—reassure him with a lie. Not because he doesn’t intend to wait, but because he is buried so far under what life has piled on top of him that he can’t see the light these days, and he doesn’t see waiting or moving on. He just sees the daily struggle of being this shell of a person. Of being without Mickey even if they’re not technically together. (Admittedly, I think he knew they would be if Mickey weren’t in prison at that moment. Ian has no real self-control where he’s concerned. Lip told him as much, and he’s self-aware enough to realize it, hence his behavior in this whole scene.)

When Ian hangs up the phone, he doesn’t get up immediately. He looks at Mickey—really looks at him—and each of them watches the other’s heart shatter. I don’t see it the way a lot of people do, though. On Mickey’s side, I don’t see it as being because Ian lied. I think it’s so much bigger than that.

Ian looks at him when they can’t hear each other anymore, and if he didn’t seem ready to cry before, he looks it now. Why? Because there’s nothing he can do for Mickey besides that. Ian, ever the giver, can’t give him anything. At that point, he couldn’t even help himself. He can’t be what Mickey needs in that moment, just like he couldn’t be what Mickey needed while he was sick, and it kills him. It kills him to know that by the time Mickey does get out, he’ll be older than he can fathom being and has no idea if he’ll even be around that long. It kills him to feel like even if he is, he’ll still have nothing to offer because, in his own words, this is where he lands. And it kills him to have to walk away and leave what he loves most behind glass.

Mickey is watching this. He knows Ian, and as painful as it was to get exactly what he asked for, it’s even more painful for him to see what him being here does to Ian. Where Ian is a giver, Mickey is a fixer. He makes things better. When stuff is broken, he puts it back together. When there’s a problem, he resolves it. Ian was going to leave because he couldn’t be an unacknowledged number three in Mickey’s life anymore? He jumped to solve the problem by coming out. Ian was acting strangely and wouldn’t get out of bed for so long that Mickey realized something was wrong? He immediately went to hunt down Lip, who he knows is closer to Ian than anyone else in his family. Fiona tells him that Ian is sick and needs to be cared for? He jumps in to do it, even to the point where it did more harm than good. Sammi caused a problem that Mickey couldn’t solve? He fixed the problem of her being there at all. But here he sits, behind glass, watching Ian that whole time and knowing that he was trying to maintain some emotional distance—and, because it’s Mickey, knowing why. There’s nothing he can do about this. He can’t fix it. For the first time since s3, Mickey is absolutely helpless to fix a problem. He takes a breath as Ian walks away as though he’s about to say something, but what can he say? What can he do? Nothing. He can do nothing but hang up the phone and weather the storm.

In the end, the heartbreak in this scene isn’t about them hurting each other, from my perspective. It’s not about Ian being callous and cruel or purposely trying to hurt Mickey. They know each other too well for that. They’ve been through too much. To me, this is about two people who love each other more than anything not being able to be what the other needed when they needed them—and that’s a whole lot more painful.

[baseballbitch116]

Beat Yer Ass

Prompt: Daryl hears a man making vulgar comments about his girl

Warnings: Violence, crude comments about women, strong language

Word Count: 2087

Masterlist | Fandoms | Submit A Request

The day started off like most others. You were on watch this morning, having gotten up only a few hours after Daryl came to bed. Your shift began at dawn, relieving the night crew. You remembered that Daryl was supposed to go out to the bridge today to help with construction, mostly to keep an eye on everyone in Rick’s absence. He had to go down to the Sanctuary today, so Daryl was covering for him overseeing the bridge.

You left an apple on the bedside table and wrote a quick note beside it telling Daryl that you were on watch and that you’d see him in the afternoon. You hated not being able to see him much anymore, but you each had a lot of responsibilities to manage. Standing in the dim light, you lean over the bed to brush the hair out of Daryl’s face. You keep meaning to give him a little hair cut, just so that he could see better, but whenever you were able to see him it would completely slip your mind - too concerned with soaking up as much time with him as possible.

Your fingers brushed against his stubbly cheek ever so lightly, appreciating how peaceful he looked sleeping. He stirs a little, so you quickly retract your hand and move away to start heading out before you accidentally wake him up, but it’s too late. “Mmm?” He groans out, one eye peeking open as his hand comes up to snatch your hand from where you were pulling it away.

“Sorry,” You whisper, rubbing your thumb over the back of his warm, rough hand.

“Where’re ya goin’?” He questions, his deep voice so groggy that anyone else may have a hard time understanding what he said. You loved his sleepy voice, you found it adorable.

“I have to go on watch at the gate. Relieving the night shift.” You remind him, leaning down so that you are squatting beside him at the bed. He rolls over onto his side, his hand still enveloping yours, and opens his other eye to get a good look at you.

“M’kay,” He mutters, bringing your hand up to his mouth and placing a kiss on the back of it. “Be careful.” Daryl says, his piercing blue eyes meeting your own. A shy smile crawls up your face and you nod in the darkness, moving closer and placing a kiss on his stubble covered cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight, hon.” You promise, moving to stand up, but he doesn’t release your hand, keeping you down at his level. He sleepily lifts his head and brings his other hand up to the back of your head. You instinctively meet him halfway, capturing his soft lips in a slow kiss. His body heat radiates onto you, warming you up in a way only Daryl can. You pull away slowly, a frustrated whimper escaping your mouth as you lean your forehead on his. You miss him so much, you want to lay here beside him forever - but the sunlight beginning to creep through the window reminds you that duty calls.

You loved how Daryl would let his guard down and be more open when he was tired like this. He could be very affectionate in the mornings and nights, which was one of the only times that you go to see him anymore. You stand up from your spot and head out of the room, but not without one last glance at the love of your life.

Daryl’s morning was not off to a great start. He was exhausted from the night before, grumpy because he didn’t get to spend any time with you, and it was a cloudy and cold day. Everyone was getting on his nerves and he was practically counting down the minutes until he would be able to go back to Alexandria to see you.

One person in particular was seriously testing Daryl’s patience today - a former Savior, named Justin. He has been giving everyone attitude from the moment they began working, and Daryl has just about had it. He’d just finished helping Aaron with some boards for the base of the bridge when he heard something stick out to him. Your name. In Justin’s mouth. Daryl knew that Justin had tried hitting on you once before when you came to the bridge to help out, and he had warned him to stay away from you. Normally Daryl would have trusted you to handle the guy yourself, but seeing as he was a Savior, and he was being very pushy toward you, Daryl had stepped in.

He stands up from where he was crouched, brushing the dirt off of his gloves and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, listening in on the conversation Justin was having with some other Savior.

“She’s a hot piece of ass. The things I’d do to Y/N if that asshole would let her out of his sight, I swear.” Justin remarks as he hammers at a nail unsuccessfully. The man beside him just scoffs.

“She’d never go for you, man.” He responds.

“Wouldn’t have to. Just need to get her alone.” Justin continues, a gross smirk on his face.

By this point, Aaron had taken notice and knew that shit was about to go down. The look on Daryl’s face was enough to warn the younger man that he needed to intervene, now.

“Hey!” Daryl shouts, beginning to make his way over to the two men, Aaron following close behind, saying that it wasn’t worth it, but Daryl was deaf to his words. Justin turns around to face Daryl, gross smirk faltering slightly, realization washing over his face. “The hell ya just say about her?!” Daryl growls, stepping very close in the guy’s space.

He says nothing, just glaring at Daryl, who is fuming. He practically said that he would force himself on you. “You gonna try to hurt my girl?” Daryl questions, his voice deep and angry, intense stare not faltering for even a second.

“Not hurt, just show her a good time. We all know she don’t get none from you.” Justin stupidly comments, tilting his head at Daryl.

“Ya touch her, ya even look at her, I’ll beat yer ass into the ground.” Daryl growls, staring directly into his eyes, not a hint of fear appeared on his face. He turns around to get back to work.

“No wonder you’re so pissy, she must not give a redneck like you much pussy. More for me, then!” Justin hollers cockily, throwing Daryl over the edge. He spins back around fast as lightning and punches Justin directly in the nose, sending him falling back onto a large pile of sand. Daryl grabs onto his collar and continuously punches him in the face, pummeling the arrogant man, until he manages to grab a fist full of the sand and toss it in Daryl’s eyes, stunning and blinding him.

Luckily for the Savior, Rick had just arrived at the bridge with Eugene and heard the commotion going on, immediately running up to the top of the bridge to check what was going on. He saw the fight and the mob of people surrounding the two men, infuriating and worrying him. He pushes his way through the crowd as fast as possible and throws himself in between the two men, attempting to deescalate the issue. “Hey! Break it up!” He hollers, doing his best to restrain Daryl from getting to Justin, who was very bloody and bruised. Daryl didn’t look so great either, but Justin had certainly lost the fight.

Daryl continues trying to shove past Rick to get to Justin, but he holds his ground, firmly keeping himself between the two. “Enough!” Rick hollers, throwing his arms out to hold Daryl back. Finally, Daryl backs off just a little, taking one step back and stalking back and forth, his eyes not tearing away from the man that was still standing. If Rick hadn’t stepped in he very well might have killed Justin. It’s not like he’d be missed, and after the comments that he made about Y/N, he deserved it. “Everyone get back to work. Now!” Rick commands to their audience.

Justin scrambles away defeated, keeping an eye on Daryl as he leaves. Daryl continues stalking, his breathing heavy and erratic as he stares at the man getting away with speaking about hurting Y/N. “What the hell happened?” Rick demands when he turns to face his friend. Daryl spits out some blood onto the ground and shifts his weight, too angry to speak. Aaron hesitantly approaches the two of them and begins explaining what he witnessed to Rick.

“He was jokin about forcin himself on her! Said he jus’ needa get her alone!” Daryl exclaims, waving his arm in the direction Justin scurried off. Rick puts a hand up to Daryl and nods his head, processing what he’s been told.

“Daryl, hey! Daryl. We will handle this. He’s never even around her, he was just looking to cause trouble-” Rick starts, but Daryl scoffs and throws his arm again, pacing around in an attempt to soothe his rage. “He’s met her one time. He’s never been to Alexandria. Daryl! Y/N can handle herself.” Rick argues, but Daryl will hear none of it.

“You think I don’t know that?! Don’t matter! What if he said that bout Michonne? Huh! That’s not the point!” Daryl hollers, pointing a finger at his friend.

It took a while but eventually, Rick managed to calm Daryl down and he sent him back to Alexandria early. Daryl took off on his motorcycle, speeding his way back to the community, more anxious than usual to see you. He just needed to see that you were safe. He knew that you were, but he just needed to see it.

He arrived back before the sun had set, which was certainly early for him. The gates opened and he looked up at who was on watch, a combination of relief and worry set in as he saw that you were not. Relief because it meant that maybe he’d have some time with you, but worry because he did not know where you were. “Hey! Ya know where Y/N is?” Daryl shouts up to Rosita at her post on the wall. She shrugs her shoulders and asks why, but Daryl ignores her and drives into the community.

He makes his way to your shared house hastily, anxious to see you. He was furious, you were the only one going to be able to calm him down. “Y/N?!” He hollers when he steps into the house. He hears a noise before you appear out from the kitchen, peeking around the corner at him, a grin appearing on your soft features.

“Hey, you’re back early!” You greet. Daryl doesn’t say anything, instead looking at you, taking you in. You’re okay, you’re happy, you’re with him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, your face falling at his odd behavior. He doesn’t speak again, just striding over to you and dropping his face on your shoulder, an arm falling loosely over your smaller frame. You immediately envelop him in a tight hug, not questioning his affection - sensing that he needs you right now.

He pulls his head up to look at you, his blue eyes burning into yours. “That savior - Justin - he was talkin bout ya.” He starts. You raise your eyebrows curiously, wondering why he was talking about you and why Daryl was so worked up over it.

“What do you mean?” You ask, trailing a hand down his muscular arm to comfort him. You can see he is angry and stressed.

“He said some shit... I was gonna break his mouth. Rick stopped me.” He explains.

“Oh Daryl, you don’t gotta worry about me.” You say, realization hitting you. “I only saw him a few times, I’d kick his ass if he bothered me. You know that.” You joke, trying to lighten his mood.

“I shoulda killed him.” He mutters. You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you.

“He’s not worth it. I’m not afraid of some scrawny savior. He’s not worth your time, Daryl.” He doesn’t reply, only looking into your comforting eyes before nodding slightly. “Come on, let’s go take a nap.” You mutter, dropping your hands from his face to his arm and dragging him along to go back to bed.

---

@lokilover2000-blog​ @tv-show-shit​ @mtngirlforever​ @jodiereedus22​@cole-winchester @loudlydarkcollective​ @tehfabbooty​ @momc95​@fuzzy-panda @sourwolf-sterek32​ @mwesterfeld1985​ @badluckgirl​ @namelesslosers​ @my-current-fandom-is​ @zzeacat​ @twdeadfanfic​ @elamy17​ @fangirlsarah16​ @gryffindorshadowhunter​ @justaclosetedgay @a-little-piece-of-heaven-xox​@hello-valerie @huntress-valkyrie​ @pleasepleasepleaseme​ @fangirl-juchan​@dotslabyrinth @isayweallgetdrunk​ @vibhati123 @ask-kakashihatake@clumsy-writing-rdb @07chenzo03 @iminlokisarmysofi​ @daryldixonandfrogs​ @franzixlovesxsomeone​ @of-storms-and-sadness​ @duchessdeer​ @mazerunnerrose​@gruffle1 @harry-titss​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @marissacooper​ @neeadinghugs​ @theserpentinequeen​ @firelonewolf​ @habelm @isilmiel @itsmysticalmystery​ @misscamptl​ @escapetothemind-dancefloor @dixonslover​ @walkingdeadfan25​ @qrangr​@mblaqgi @daryldixon83​ @negansviolentdelights​ @multiefandamn​ @fandom-trash99 @bvbwestfall​ @sugoichenzo​ @daryldixonswifey​ @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindy@esdlaliniadedurin @jasminetherandomweirdo​ @abilostinlight​ @thebeckyjolene​@too-many-fanfiction-fandoms @celticheart72-masterlist​ @whizzer1320​ @nohemi2500​ @nugget3455@axelwolf8109 @twd-imaginesss​ @hells-mistress​ @kaleeandspn @sekkitsu​ @fxckyourlife​ @topsykretts926-blog​ @lighthope08​ @runlikeclockwork​ @elysijin​ @mummy-woves-you​ @princess-of-idgaf​ @icantstopreblogging​​ @rhyatt-deauxtreve​​ @nikki082489​​ @twdeadfanfic​ @superdeadwalker @ringpopdust​ @twdsfix​ @dixonluvv​ @angelophany​ @imaginecrushes​ @the-wonderful-werewolf @chocolatealmondmillk @catlya​@firedancernix @princessxpunk​ @collecting-stories​ @ly–canthrope@maydayfigment

[tansypoisoning]

Tansy’s Spooky Challenge

Because the World is terrifying :D

To celebrate this milestone (1k followers :O) I’m starting a challenge which hopefully will give back to this community in terms of exposure of less known authors (or just authors that aren’t known by my followers) and in creating more stories. I’m so thankful for all the attention I’ve been given, and I hope to give you guys my attention as well.

I love writing challenges because they give authors motivation to write (sometimes even things out of their comfort zone), because they’re a great way for writer’s to promote themselves, and because it’s a great way for the person hosting it to find more stories and authors they could end up being big fans of :D I especially encourage people with less followers, or whose works I haven’t read to participate.

The main objective of this challenge is to write something that has an element of horror in it. It can range from a situation that seemed scary but is okay, to something that is a little eerie, to pure unadulterated terror. As for rules:

You DON’T have to be following me to participate.

You have to enter with a reader insert/OC fic. There doesn’t have to be any smut or shipping, and if there is, the relationship DOESN’T HAVE to be about dark!character or dark!reader.

I’ll read works for any fandom, but the ones I’m most familiar with are Marvel, Overwatch, Snowpiercer, Knives Out, Naruto, Avatar:The Legend of Aang

You can submit drabbles, one-shots, or an entry of a serialized story.

A single prompt CAN be used by more than a single person.

The fanfics can be of any length, but if they’re on the longer side, please try putting a ‘Read More’ in there somewhere to avoid making things difficult for people reading on phones.

Things that are not allowed in terms of content: underage sex, bestiality, graphic child abuse (allusions are ok) I don’t think anyone would submit an entry that I would have reservations reblogging, but if in doubt you can ask me for help. Give warnings for any sensitive topic you bring up.

Tag your fic with “TansySpookyChallenge2020”

Send me an ask or dm telling me you posted it, preferably a dm. Asks can get eaten by the inbox, and tagging doesn’t always work.

Deadline is November 24th. You can DM for extensions

PROMPTS BELOW

Choose one item from each list and work them into a story. I allow and encourage trying to game the system with multiple interpretations of a term, less literal readings, or wordplay.

List 1

Happiness

Jealousy

Nostalgia

Desperation

Fury

Triumph

Sadness

Acceptance

Fervor

Disgust

Awe

Confusion

Hope

Craving

Foreboding

Denial

Loss

Ennui

Adoration

Sympathy

Pain

Betrayal

Commiseration

Anxiety

Rancor

Determination

List 2

Sink or swim

Chokecherry

Crossroads

“Let me see what you have.” “A knife!”

French vanilla

Something forgotten long ago

The shore

The eye of the storm

Bathtub

Corn hell

Down by the river

Baby’s breath

A little fire

An old saloon

Unearthed bones

On the move

Before dawn

Dead men walking

By candlelight

Frankenstein

Prima Donna

A hill about a mile outta town

First dance

Ritual

Underground

A small request

These text prompts can be used however you want: whether you want to have them in your story in their entirety, use bits, write something around them, something inspired by them, or just something you think has a similar feel. Just let me know which you picked.

There is a Corvette parked in front of the building, just by the front door. You approach the vehicle as if compelled by an invisible force and look in through the closed window. There’s none inside, but you see, in the driver's seat, illuminated by the neon lights of the bar, a white cowboy hat with a golden band. This isn’t the first time you see this hat.

The hole is no more than eight feet long and three feet wide. You peer in deeper, but you can’t see the bottom. There’s a soft but grating sound coming from somewhere within, like sharp nails raking against a metal plate. You can’t see the bottom, but you think you can see movement inside.

You abandon the warmth of the laundromat for the biting cold of the outside world. To your right, the road extends for miles and miles into the night, as it does to your left. There’s no place for you to go, but you can’t go back inside.

The light of the neon sign proudly displaying “Rising Sun Motel” shines through your door. You had closed and locked it before taking your shower – you know you had, because you do it in every room you rent. You take a cursory glance of your surroundings. Nothing is out of place or missing. Must be a faulty lock. The night is windy and could have pushed the cheap door open. You go to lock it again, and when you turn around you see that the closet door is slightly ajar.

The land is flat as far as the eye can see and identical houses with identically manicured lawns sprout from it as far as the eye can see. You run up and then down the street (or is it down and then up?) but you can’t seem to find anything else. The people look so friendly when they smile and wave as they pass you by, but you don’t ask them for directions. You look at your phone. You have signal, but all you can get your internet to show you are advertising for washing machines and sites with recipes for awful things preserved in aspic. The date and hour on your home screen keep changing. You’re positive you’ve been in this place for hours, but the sun won’t set.

“B-but… I don’t understand...” “We have checked the security footage three times and found nothing. There are also no signs of forced entries. No fingerprints.” “-My phone! I took pictures, I know I took-!” “We found nothing on your phone, in the SD card, or in the Cloud. There’s nothing.” “That’s impossible!” “We searched as much as we could. I’m sorry, but… are you sure-” “I know what I saw! I know it! Look again!” You aren’t imagining things. It couldn't have been your mind. It couldn't, it couldn’t, it couldn't

What kind of convenience store has taxidermy heads for decoration? You ask yourself as you roam the aisles of the near empty shop. You peek from behind a row of shelves to one side and spot the clerk. He’s old and severe looking, and although his pupils are pointed in your direction, you get the distinct feeling he’s looking right through you. You move your head to the other side of the shelves and spot another one of those fucking deer heads. This one’s large, wet eyes are turned to a fixture in the ceiling, but you would swear it’s watching you.

Rain pelts you as you stand at the dock, waiting. You hope your boat will arrive soon. You look over your shoulder into the mist and see nothing that should give you pause, but your leg still won’t stop shaking. You touch your arm by reflex and wince when you brush your cut. You think your makeshift tourniquet is working, but it looks fragile, like it could get dismantled at any second. In this weather, you’re sure is just a matter of time. You look over your shoulder again. Still nothing, but you fear it won’t last. You hope your boat will arrive soon.

The living room is dark, but you don’t turn on the lights. You are still too close. You move to the kitchen, and there you feel safe enough to reach for the switch. The illuminated room, much larger than it needed to be, is a ghastly land of contrasts. The many counters and their many marble tops are covered in trash. The tile floors, formerly clean enough to eat out of, are now muddied, not a single spot spared. The eyes of the two stoves are covered by pans and pots boiling foul mixtures. Through the window you can see the sprawling lawn and walls of hedges. They will hide you, but for how long? There is something waiting for you in the hallway, something terrible. You have to address it before sunrise, but for now you’ll wait here. The kitchen isn’t half as bad as the rest of the house.

‘The Bystander Effect’ is the term used to describe the phenomenon in which people don’t intervene in emergency situations when in a group, and, the larger the group, the less likely they are to intervene. You know this to be true, even without doing any research, as you hobble your way through the maze of alleyways. Your cries for help had gone unanswered, bouncing off the concrete walls into a multitude of uncaring ears. It’s just how it is in the big city – every man for himself, and the devil take the hindmost. So much for safety in numbers. The truth is, in this city, surrounded by all these people, you’re more alone than you’d ever been.

You take the first step with care, mindful of all the ice. The second is a little clumsier. On the third you almost slip. You skip the fourth and fall on the fifth, rolling down the stairs and landing face first in the snow. You scramble to get back to your feet and run to your car. You have to get home. You lock yourself in and don’t bother with the safety belt. You shove the key in the ignition and turn and turn but nothing happens. Did you leave it in the cold too long, or- There’s no time to think about it. You step out of the car and start running, into the freezing night. You have to get home, you have to get home now.

Cleanup time is always a hassle. You wish you didn’t have to do it, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave the mess all to your partner. You two near the open trunk of the car and load the heavy cargo into it. Your companion seems the most affected by the weight, and you offer an apologetic smile. Fair is fair though; it was your turn to carry the feet end.

Skinny dipping had seemed like a good idea when your friend suggested it earlier, under the sweltering sun. Now, standing in front of the pool in your bathing suit, all by your lonesome, you start to regret having agreed to her scheme. Wasn’t she supposed to have arrived forty minutes ago? She said she’d bring people too, because skinny dipping alone isn’t fun. Well, now you are all alone in the cold, and you suspect that is even less fun. Just as you make up your mind to leave, you see a car through the chain link fence. It pulls up just before the gate and the engine turns off. That must be them.

[dat-paw]

i want to talk a little about my time on twitter over the past year, for the sake of sorting out my feelings on the experience and how i want things to be going forward

some of you who know me personally know that the nature of my career was such that i did not keep regular hours- couldn’t keep them, really. this essentially left me unable to interact with the FFXIV community at large in any consistent way. having never really known anything else, i was okay with that. i had my blog here on tumblr, and i had my small circle of close friends who i kept in touch with in game and on discord. that was fine.

when c19 hit, my job changed practically overnight. i won’t get into the details here, except to say that i was very fortunate. the kind of work i was doing changed, and suddenly my schedule became consistent. for the first time in my life, i was working a 9-to-5, Monday-to-Friday routine. it was stability unlike any i’d ever experienced as a millennial in the workforce. this level of stability gave me a sense of freedom, and with that freedom, i decided to try something new. i’d heard about large parts of the FFXIV community heading to twitter after the mass exodus that followed the Great Tumblr De-Sexification. with some trepidation, i followed.

i’d only used twitter sparingly before that. i didn’t have a clear understanding of how the platform really worked, or how best to use it. there was a rather large learning curve, but the sheer size of the FFXIV community there encouraged me to stick with it. for the first time in a long time, i felt like i was really connecting with other players. it felt much more personal than my blog had, and i liked that feeling.

it didn’t take me long to pick up the basics. twitter wasn’t very good for pictures, video, audio, or even just simple writing... but it was great for shouting brief, snappy soundbites into the void, and if you could do that in a way that funny, you could build a following relatively easily. i found my niche and nurtured it well. my gimmick- typing every tweet in all capital letters, “to make sure you can hear me over the Internet”- was well-received.

i guess this is probably just another case of me being late to the party on something everyone else already knew, but i pretty quickly got addicted to that endorphin rush of tweeting something and watching the numbers go up. but as much as i was enjoying my growing notoriety as FFXIV twitter’s resident shitposter, it was getting harder and harder to ignore how volatile the community could sometimes be

i’m not going to lay this at the feet of the FFXIV community, at least not wholly. anyone who’s been part of it for any length of time can tell you that it’s about as susceptible to the same pitfalls as any large fandom tends to be. there’s a specific kind of culture on twitter, though- it’s a very personal, violently angry kind of culture. simple disputes over fiction would escalate into moral crusades that sometimes had real and extremely damaging consequences.

this has been written about elsewhere far more eloquently than i can express, i’m sure, but after awhile, i began to realize that twitter, as a platform, thrives on this kind of negative engagement. due to how it limits other forms of media, and the way its timeline algorithm works, vitriol is the only content that can truly succeed there. it’s true of the whole site, and no less true for FFXIV, where dogpiling was something that happened with frightening regularity.

i was prepared to ignore it. i saw that it was a problem, and i think in my heart of hearts i knew that the rapidly escalating tension was eventually going to become too much for me to bear, but to be frank, i was addicted. i was addicted to the cycle of getting likes and retweets, and i was addicted to the negativity. i was ready to turn a blind eye and act as though i was above it all, so long as i got my fix

it was only once the problem came home for me that i kind of got shaken out of my trance and realized i needed to change things. i’m not going to go into details here, either, other than to say that my significant other became the target of one of FFXIV twitter’s frequent dogpiles, and i couldn’t stand to see her treated that way. it had to end. it had to stop. so i did.

and now i’m back on tumblr again, for the sake of having a space to express myself creatively.

it’s a weird feeling, coming back to this after being away so long. but it’s comfortable, like an old sweater that still fits. i missed it.

anyway, that’s my story. again, no real driving point behind me posting it here, other than me sorting out my feelings and getting them all down on paper, so to speak.

[nissakii]

How similar are Kageyama and Todoroki?

Despite the many differences between Kageyama and Todoroki, those two are as well much more similar than you think.

We already covered Bakugo and Oikawa, Deku and Hinata and now follow up with our icy-type characters.

Nissa already wrote about both characters shortly in her BNHA Analysts Shuffle and Haikyuu Sentinel Shuffle, but this will not be about their personality types but a general overview about their similarities, Nissa did a full personality analysis on Kageyama and sometime soon one on Todoroki will follow as well.

To not make you wait any longer let’s get started with our favourite stoic boys and what connects them!

Dense

When we take a look at both Kageyama and Todoroki the first thing that someone would guess is that compared to their abilities that both of them are pretty quick-witted.

Sadly, this is not the case…

Academically speaking Kageyama is not a student that succeeded in it, showing that he wasn’t able to get into Shiratorizawa due to his bad grades unlike Todoroki who is ranked 5th in his class. Yet this is not the aspect showing how dense or quick-witted someone is since grades are not an indicator of what a person is really capable of.

Both Kageyama and Todoroki are unaware of the things happening around them, as they do not realize how the other party might feel when they do or say something. Both are shown to be very observant and have a quick decision-making mind when it comes to their speciality, but everything out of that area is just beyond their understanding.

For example we have Kageyama who often says what is in his mind or how he perceives things not thinking about what the other person might feel about it, which later backlashes at him and even surprises him in a way why that person would be possibly mad.

One case would be that he is not aware of the fact that he hit Oikawa’s soft spots and continued to aggravate and hurt him until Oikawa had lashed out on him, which made him think that Oikawa has a bad personality yet he was the one unintentionally pushing his buttons due to his dense demeanor and inconsiderate way of handling someone else’s emotions, another example would be at the beginning with Hinata.

In Todoroki’s case this applies too, where he doesn’t understand what a person really might feel due to his actions or words. His examples would be firstly Bakugo, who he obviously and indirectly looked down upon by not giving him the fight he demanded and due to him taking everything literally while Bakugo tries to get his attention Todoroki does not react the way others want him to since he is not aware of their emotional state.

Secondly, Yaoyorozu  and the practical exam towards the end of season two. While she had a lot of self-doubts after losing miserably in the sport festival arc, she still had a lot on her mind and wanted to help Todoroki as much as she could yet he didn’t really understand the fact that she needed confirmation from someone she respected, here Todoroki.

Very late when they were about to fail the exam and saw the obvious fear and anxiety that Yaoyorozu held he thought back on her behaviour and understood that she had something to say.

Geniuses

We have them in every medium and in our real world too, the kind of people who have overwhelming abilities that only get even more overwhelming the further they rise.

And today we have two of them, the volleyball prodigy and the one who wields two powerful quirks effortlessly.

As shown it doesn’t take them a lot of time to improve vehemently when they actually focus and put their mind on a certain goal. Unlike their peers they set their life for that very goal, making it the only thing that matters to them when it’s endangered in a way.

Todoroki is easier to spot in that category, as the son of the number two hero Endeavor who got into UA through recommendations, all eyes are fixed on him as soon as he enters the stage. Being able to use both ice and fire quirks that he inherited from his parents makes him one of the most watched students that people expect a lot from.

Yet his quirk are not the only thing that makes him a genius since it’s something he inherited but his way of using it in all kinds of ways, continuously over a large period of time and on top of that he moves while planning out a strategy in his mind are the assets that make Todoroki so astonishing. It’s not that he sits down and is amazing just like that, he puts much effort mentally and physically to improve and those that in a speed that is unmatched to his other peers, as he started to use his fire quirk very late he still was able to control it in a short period of time and even started adjusting it for special moves.

On the other hand we have Kageyama, the one known for his eerily accurate tosses that he can adjust and calculate so quickly that other people just can’t believe that especially someone at his age could do such a hard thing.

Iwaizumi Hajime, his former senior in Kitagawa Daiichi who used to play in the same team as him, described Kageyama as a prodigy that surfaced and that his sense for things was overwhelmingly spectacular in Chapter 60.

Even Oikawa mentioned to Iwaizumi at the end of the practice match in season one episode six that when it comes to tosses he cannot match Tobio, which means the best setter of the prefecture sees much more potential in his junior that he is sure that someday he will surpass him, even early that is.

Many others have commended that Kageyama would also be the only one who could pull off the freak duo quick attack that is only possible due to his perfect timing and pin-pointing, he is also able to apply new techniques he sees very quickly as seen when he replicated Oikawa’s dump. Aoba Johsai’s coach as well explained that he wanted Kageyama to join their school to have him in his team but also see many flaws in him, yet he said that at some point Kageyama’s natural abilities are simply unmatched.

Socially inept

Now let’s come to the part where it’s about their social skills and the relationships they have started with.

Which let’s say… is not as astonishing as their ability because if you take both of them only in view on that aspect they surely lack a lot of it, one could also call them socially inept.

Both Kageyama and Todoroki are High Schoolers in their first year, despite their worlds being completely different and also their backgrounds there are many comparable aspects that makes you wonder how they could have survived in society if not for their skills?

Why would I proclaim such a thing you might ask?

Well, Kageyama and Todoroki may seem like well-liked and popular characters among the fandom yet in the anime they are a part of a big society in which they are seen like every other person. We on the other hand watch both their journeys as a third person or a bystander.

Watching them closely and especially how they interact with the people around them gives the most insight into how socially capable those two are separated from their usual role they have to play as either setter or the son of number two hero Endeavor.

First of all both of them seem to have bad relationships with other people before they actually started to develop through other characters, for example Hinata and Oikawa, or Deku and Inasa. One big indicator would be the nickname Kageyama was given since middle school King.

While others think that such a nickname might honor him in a way, or like Oikawa described in chapter 53 he thought it was an esteemed nickname, it turned out that as he went to watch one of his matches he saw the real meaning behind it.

And also the strengths that are also his weaknesses, the solitary king who rules the court by himself wanting everyone to match his pace instead of considering to match theirs, others even called him dictator.

In the end he even was left-behind by his team just to toss… to nobody behind him since his pressuring and egotistical behaviour concluded that after a long time of trying to keep up with it since he is so skilled they finally gave up after becoming fed up with his worsening dictatorship on them.

Which is also seen as he entered Karasuno High and told Hinata he will only toss to people he thinks worthy and important in order to win, making a lot of enemies from the get-go in his new fresh High School start.

In some of the matches it’s seen that he and Tsukishima are not on good terms either since the former is someone who doesn’t like to be bossed around and the latter gets easily provoked by him. He doesn’t understand simple social cues either and takes most of the things as either insults or ignores them since he doesn’t understand them until his seniors have to explain to him how he should work out things and what he does need to improve, not skill-wise but in his communication and interactions.

On the other hand we have Todoroki who is just like Kageyama but not as worse as him in that aspect. He simply didn’t care about the people around him as he focussed on himself rather than social interactions and playing friends as he called it in the school festival arc.

Not being able to recognize other people’s feelings as he turned away from the people around him and rather was stuck in his own world he tried to fight in.

Yet even later when he had a new fresh start after the sport festival arc, it’s seen that Todoroki is still socially inept in many ways, he doesn’t understand social cues as well sometimes he wonders what he said to others which could have made them angry.

He takes most of the things people say to him literally as he even misunderstood Midoriya and Lida when they were together at the hospital, blaming himself and wondering if he is cursed already wanting to distance himself from them after they joke around about their arms.

But thankfully they found the right people to make them develop more into people who try to understand those around them.

Narrow-minded alike

Pride and a narrow-mind connects those two as well.

Ever saw a person so stubborn and lost in their own world and goals that they do not even realize where they are heading to or what is happening around them?

Two examples of exactly two people who match that description, Kageyama Tobio and Todoroki Shoto.

In that both of them really don’t differ in any way beside the implementation of how it is presented.

Especially towards the beginning of both serieses that character-trait is depicted heavily, as we see both of them fixated on winning, surpassing others and becoming better over a short period of time making them even trample over other people’s feelings directly and indirectly.

They live in their own world where they have to solve their problems all by themselves and see everyone else as either a stepping stone or obstruction.

Stubbornness can be good in some situations but in their case it’s a critical condition that is criticised by close people and strangers, since they start to lose themselves in their bad habits as they recklessly do as they think is the right way to proceed.

Kageyama would be a prime example as he even says those words harshly to his peers that if he could, he would set, toss, spike and receive the ball all by himself. He also criticises others and deems them as slackers or not being serious just because they cannot match his skills instead of trying to widen his perspective on matters.

There is also his strong sense of pride that doesn’t let things go so simply one example would be that he immediately tried to replicate Oikawa when he scored a point in a way that would humiliate him, in his eyes.

Another  scene was when Hinata proposed to try to hit the ball by himself and learn to spike on his own instead of relying on Kageyama only, which made him irritated as he rejected the idea instantly, telling him their former way of handling the quick attack was efficient enough.

Todoroki as mentioned doesn’t really differ as he is fixated on beating his father by becoming the best hero with only his ice quirks, rendering him to only see revenge and rage in everything he does considering his quirks. It leaves him to forget the wonderful things that his mother told him and also made him lose the sense of himself. Until Deku had to wake him up and tell him the most obvious thing which he couldn’t see in front of him.

But that’s not the only scene where we could see that trait clearly, another one would be at the Provisional Hero License Exam. Inasa who is someone Todoroki couldn’t understand at all and disliked due to him comparing Shoto to Endeavor made him lose himself in his former habits of showing him that he isn’t like his father at all. It concluded into him not getting his license as he lost his senses and even caused the people around him to be in danger due to his reckless behaviour.

Silence before storm

Connected to the former paragraph, the seemingly silent pair has their own storm going on if you push the right buttons.

Despite being usually very calm and silent about certain things they can become easily aggravated in other situations.

Just like mentioned before Todoroki only needs to hear his father’s name to become a bit louder or even erupt into either a statue of ice or an inferno of flames like seen in season two and three.

Which goes as well when he is excited and in adrenaline he can sound much louder and aggressive in comparison to his usual self.

For Kageyama this goes as soon as Hinata pushes his buttons, he immediately shoots some moron or dumbass when he is around and does anything close to messing up or provoking him. Tsukishima on the other hand is very smart in how he provokes Kageyama, mostly leaving him only angry or boiling inside instead.

Another person who would be able to accomplish that would be Oikawa when they are competing, showing a much more childish side as he has little fights with his senior, as seen in season two as both of them fought over the ball that has fallen to the ground, yet Oikawa is rather someone who challenges him and scratches on his pride and ego.

Secret sleeper and in-between eater

There is always that one character you watch in the background, because while everyone in the panel or scene is doing something much more interesting, you will find that character doing irrelevant stuff that seems unlikely for his/her character.

And our pair for today are two of those characters, that when there is nothing to do for them in the main scene they are doing their own business not caring what others might think of them.

Both of them are very serious characters, who seem cold and stoic on the outside even aggressive sometimes but as soon as the attention of the events is derived from  them or there is a little pause in-between scenes you can spot their little dorky and cute sides, that shows yes those boys are still young and innocent highschoolers.

While they share their love for food, secretly snacking in the background or even having a full lunch in the midst of a serious talk between other characters, those two don’t even blink an eye turning away from the attention.

Kageyama just eats an Onigiri after a really serious scene where Oikawa had a panic attack in middle school, the scene obviously revolves more on Oikawa’s perception and fear explaining a bit the important role Iwaizumi has in his life as the person who brings him back on earth. Yet the other important person who caused the whole scene, Kageyama, moves to the background eating his snack casually as if nothing happened.

Same goes when Saeko, Tanaka’s sister, gives them a crazy drive to Tokyo.

We already saw in the early anime episodes that Kageyama sleeps most of the time in his classes or when nothing important is going on for him, but in Saeko’s car he just took the back rear for a midday nap and afterwards eats a snack half-asleep while she is drifting like crazy.

Since the focus was more on Saeko and Hinata talking about the little giant, Kageyama seemed to take the opportunity to move his out-of-character moments to the background.

Very similar to Todoroki Shoto, there is not much difference as he does basically the same as Kageyama. Even when he is only passively in the whole scene he just silently eats and watches his peers making most of the decisions like seen in their dorm lives and also sleeping on train or bus rides where most of his classmates are having fun meanwhile.

As seen when they made a plan to save Bakugo, Todoroki could easily enjoy a lunch and take a little nap in such dire situations.

In the manga it’s a running gag that when he is not much mentioned in the main events that you can spot him in a corner visibly or unconsciously doing one of those two things.

An adorable side-view of their usually serious and seemingly adult-like character.

Rival

Last but not least, the ever-repeating rival relationship essence for complex characters.

The difference here is that both of them are already better than their supposed rivals Deku (and later Bakugo), and Oikawa.

You might think that when your ability level is already top-notch you might not need to worry about your rivals who you can surpass any time needed, but that is wrong in both cases.

Kageyama and Todoroki work even harder and as they work harder they cannot unsee the other strengths of their rivals which makes them so different.

Ability is nice and good, but there are other factors that matter in both a Volleyball player and a soon-to-be Prohero, which they both lack and see clearly in their rivals.

Personality-wise and in the ways they handle things their rivals are still unmatched in their eyes.

For Todoroki, Deku is someone he cannot reach yet when it comes to the true essence of a hero and his problem-solving thoughts, as well as his overly caring side for others that he admires so much. Clearly Todoroki is stronger than Deku physically and he already defeated him in many ways but he still thinks that there is a lot to learn from him.

Later on he even sees qualities in Bakugo who does take his hero path seriously and respects any opponent that comes his way, treating them like a threat which is the biggest respect one can give. Todoroki himself never saw his opponents but only his father in front of him which leaded him to overlook his allies and enemies, and Bakugo who even took Ochako serious when everyone else didn’t and clearly told him he should look what’s in front of him became one of the other rivals he had set his eyes on.

Kageyama has his one and only rival Oikawa, which he looks up to since middle school and thinks of someone he cannot compare to. Despite Oikawa already stating that Tobio will surpass him one day and that it might be sooner than he would expect, Kageyama still fears his senior and thinks the exact opposite.

As stated before Kageyama is unmatched ability-wise and in season two he even won against Oikawa, but as he saw Ushijima that seemed a bit intimidating he clearly said that he not afraid of anyone beside Oikawa, which is a big indicator that he still thinks of Oikawa as a big threat and rival that should be feared.

Oikawa is the kind of setter Kageyama aspires to be, he has other traits that Kageyama watches closely and is amazed by, one would be his quick and astonishing adaptability as he mentioned he is like a ruler who rules over his army.

When Kageyama needed advice he turned to Oikawa despite his pride and ego, fully aware that Oikawa might drop comments that would make fun of him.

In Kageyama’s case his rival is in a complex way his mentor and senior at the same time, as well a former teammate and fellow setter which connects those two not by only rivalry how others might think but in many more ways.

What do you think?

Did you see any similarities that I might have missed out or do you think some might not apply in your opinion?

Drop it down in the comments, I would be eager to read them!

As again I might leave you this time, but I will return again with another tea,

vanishing Makii

Previous

[zirkkun-uthcs]

Generic Headcanons (Sanses)

This list includes short bits of information on the various Sanses to be included on this blog. If you’re looking for a specific one, please use CTRL+F to search for the AU, due to the length of this list. Reminder as well that most of this information is entirely headcanon. If there’s canon information that I’ve messed up somewhere on this, please let me know so I can fix it and adjust accordingly!

Please note: When answering asks, I will first list the character being requested in the format of AU!Sans, but the nicknames here are listed because sometimes I drift off while writing and lean towards those names.

Undertale

Nickname/s: Comic, Tale Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / asexual

+ takes a lot of time to like someone at all, usually by default doesn’t trust people + isn’t a fan of physical contact, but if someone was to manage to get close to him, he’s incredibly cuddly + horrible with directions, will get lost really easily; uses shortcuts to make up for it

character tag

Underswap (original concept by p0pcornpr1nce, who has left the fandom and deleted the content)

Nickname/s: Blue Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: non-binary Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / bisexual

+ is a pun connoisseur; will only accept the best puns, anything less is just unacceptable + is emotional, but tries to hide it because he feels the need to keep on a strong persona for the sake of everyone else +  is secretly an incredibly talented writer and has a lot of written works in his room

character tag

Underfell (original concept by Vic the Underfella)

Nickname/s: Red, Fell Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: panromantic / pansexual

+ is extremely self-conscious and hides this by acting like as much of a confident asshole as possible + crushes incredibly easy due to the lack of caring people he has in his life, but refuses to believe he’s lovable + secretly hates cats. doomfanger may or may not be the cause of this

character tag

Underlust  (original concept by nsfwshamecave, who has left the fandom.)

Nickname/s: Lust, Lusty Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: biromantic / bisexual

+ is secretly a hopeless romantic, but has yet to meet anyone interested in romance over sex, so he takes what he can get + flirts with anything that breathes; has a plethora of horrible pick-up lines + has been outside of his own AU and is well-versed in the multiverse

character tag

Xtale (by jakei)

Nickname/s: Cross Date of Birth: Oct. 10th Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / bisexual

+ has difficulty trusting anyone anymore due to the betrayal he’s had in the past + he finds comfort in doodling or other art-related things, and can often be found locked away for hours doing so + will wear literally anything but his uniform when no one’s around, no matter how stupid it looks

character tag

Ink (by myebi/comyet) (same headcanons apply to Underverse!Ink)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 15 Height: 3′9″ / 116 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ his ink vials’ colors represent: green = comfort/safety, yellow = joy/energy, orange = encouragement/creativity, red = wrath/violence, pink = love/care, purple = lust/attraction, blue = sadness/concern, cyan = calm/relaxed + refuses to ever drink his pink or purple vials anymore due to the fact he doesn’t want to mislead people into thinking he cares about them + his tastes change based on what emotions he’s feeling/ink he’s drank

character tag underverse-specific

Pale (by unu-nunu-art/unu-nunium)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: May 26th Height: 3′9″ / 116 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ clings to people who help him literally only once, because he considers all nice gestures as “Oh, so we’re friends now?” + appreciates any and all physical contact and can get a bit nervous if he’s near someone but can’t hug them + when he absorbs an AU for emotions, he has even more emotions that Ink does, but it’s far more temporary

character tag

Fresh!Ink (by myebi/comyet)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′0″ / 152 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ is a parasite like Fresh is, but isn’t the same exact one; they exist as separate beings + doesn’t ever really drink ink vials, hence why he’s replaced them with his spray cans entirely, which just contain normal pain + enjoys making large street-art style murals, but never keeps them, so he places them in hugely inconvenient parts of the multiverse just to annoy people

character tag

Error (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen) (same headcanons apply to Underverse!Error)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 4th Height: 5′4″ / 163 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / demisexual

+ doesn’t trust anyone and would rather just dispose of someone before he gets the chance to even try and trust them + has tried to delete his own emotions on several occasions, but concludes he must lose his SOUL to do so, and is too scared he’ll die + lacks logic due to the fact that he’s a glitch in a program, meaning he can no longer create logical conclusions

character tag underverse-specific

Template (by unu-nunu-art/unu-nunium)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 3rd Height: 4′5″ / 135 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / demisexual

+ constantly does a plethora of redeemable, good things within the multiverse to compensate for the fact he’s an “Error” + tries to be more comfortable with things like hugs in order to further distance himself from Error, despite also having haphephobia. + unlike Error, remembers his past as Geno a lot more vividly

character tag

Ragnartale (by NaomyMikolMaria) (please note I’m a bit behind on this AU)

Nickname/s: Knight Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′5″ / 165 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: heteroromantic / demisexual

+ doesn’t like using his magic anymore, but can’t exactly remember why it leaves a bad taste in his mouth + actively tries to void out his emotions for others’ sake, as he finds his own life far less valuable + part of him likes being a monster more than a human, because he thinks he looks horrible now and that more people will leave him alone

character tag

Dusttale (by ask-dusttale)

Nickname/s: Dust, Dusty Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: lithromantic / asexual

+ absolutely despises all humans and it wouldn’t be surprising if he tried to kill any on sight + can often be seen talking aloud to “himself,” but he’s actually talking to “Papyrus” + has the same observant skills as Sans and is just as quick on his feet if not faster, however he’s also more rash in his decision-making due to his insanity.

character tag

Fresh (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 20th (pretends it’s April 1st) Height: 6′3″ / 191 cm Gender: genderfluid Pronouns: he/him or they/them Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ while he be default doesn’t have any emotions, if for some reason he starts to feel anything, he will reject it immediately, and become incredibly harsh + started dressing in 90′s clothes as a joke, now he enjoys them unironically and has genuinely started watching human 90′s shows + sends memes to Error just to piss him off; his favorite to send is Rick Rolls

character tag

Outertale (by 2mi127)

Nickname/s: Outer Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / asexual

+ because he can see the stars all the time, he’s far more fascinated by the Earth’s sun and atmosphere compared to other Sanses + has had his jacket since he was a kid but just didn’t bother getting rid of it. that and he never outgrew it. sometimes people still think he’s a kid because of it + gets cold easily; his jacket is extremely thick and fuzzy to make up for this

character tag

Altertale (by friisans)

Nickname/s: Guardian Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: biromantic / demisexual

+ despises his brother so much that he won’t even look in his general direction and will likely burn or destroy anything that reminds him of his brother + appears very calm and collected most of the time, but can easily turn around and be manipulative or angry when least expected + is horrible at keeping watch of the human children because he always teaches them how to exploit things and they use that against him

character tag

Aftertale (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen)

Nickname/s: Geno Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′0″ / 152 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / demisexual

+ is really bad at social interaction due to extended isolation and because of that may come off as blunt or rude + if anyone acts friendly around him, especially if they are a more physical kind of person, he will instantly not trust them + seeing spaghetti is a sure way to make him burst into tears, but he’ll pretend he’s not actually crying

character tag

Swapfell (by poptatochisp and community)

Nickname/s: Mal Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′3″ / 160 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: panromantic / demisexual

+ doesn’t do well with people who disagree with him. this will cause genuine unintended arguments over the smallest things + very formal in most situations possible, but assumes everyone else should be too + is bad at emotions, just, in general. understanding them, having them, everything

character tag

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Explaining It All” || YEAR 3 – Ch.36 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 12/22/2020

Word count: 3, 517

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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The shack groaned and creaked, filling the heavy silence until Lupin, who looked incredibly calm for someone who was just outed as a creature even the Ministry considered highly dangerous, chuckled awkwardly. As if Heather had simply told an embarrassing story of him.

He looked at Hermione and Heather with a small smile. “I was always worried about the two of you, though I suspected you’ve known for some time… I am a werewolf… I won’t deny that. But I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and none of us want Harry, or you, Heather, dead – I promise you that.”

Ron, who’d dragged himself to the farthest post of the bed, pulled himself up, almost feinting from the throbbing pain of his leg. He winced but did not take his eyes off Lupin.

Lupin’s eyebrows drew with concern as he took a step closer to them, mistaking the silence for calm.

“Get away from us, werewolf!” Ron shouted, instinctually reaching for his wand, which was still in Lupin’s hand. “Give them back.”

“Not yet.” He took his step back and turned to Hermione and Heather with visible effort. “How did you find out?”

“Snape’s essay,” Heather mumbled.

Lupin made a sound between a scoff and a chuckles and shook his head. “Does he know? He’ll be delighted, no doubt. He assigned it thinking everyone would realize… What gave it away?”

“Mostly you being ill around full moons,” Hermione said, holding her head high.

Lupin forced a laugh. “You’re both quite clever.”

“You’re not going to win back our trust by talking to us if that’s what you think.” Heather had set her attention back at Black, who was still intently looking at Ron over Lupin’s shoulder. There was concern in his eyes, though Heather couldn’t tell if he was worried about Ron’s injury or about the fact his uneaten meal could still hop away from him.

“We should have told everyone what you are.” Hermione shook her head. “If we were cleverer we’d have done that.”

“The staff know… though some did not agree with Dumbledore’s choices… Some apposed it more than others…”

Ron gasped. “Dumbledore knew you were a werewolf? And he still hired you?”

Lupin forced a smile again. “Not without a lot of convincing. It took a while for him to prove to most everyone I was trustworthy – ”

“But you’re not.” Harry pointed at their wands still locked in Lupin’s grip. “Give them back if you want to prove to us we can trust you… Unless you’re lying. Unless you really are working with that murderer!”

Black shut his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again he crossed over to the four-poster – making them jump away – and sunk into the mattress sending a cloud of dust into the air. He dropped his head on his hands. Poor Ron was stuck close to him, holding the farthest post to stay upright.

Lupin stared at the wands and threw them back, even his own. “You can trust me, Harry. I have not been working with Sirius – so if I can just explain… If you will listen.”

Heather reached for the wands, handing each one back, throwing Ron his own who immediately pointed it at Sirius Black, and gripped Lupin’s tight.

“Look, I was in my office when I glanced over at the Marauder’s Map – ”

“You know how it works?” Harry narrowed his eyes.

Lupin gave a genuine laugh. “Of course. I helped write it.”

Their mouths fell open.

Lupin continued, “I was examining the map – ”

“You’re Moony.” Heather mumbled, remembering the names from the map. Moony had called Snape’s nose ‘abnormally large’.

“It was my friend’s nickname for me back in school.” Lupin waved his hand impatiently. “I was keeping an eye on you four, knowing you’d be down with Hagrid before his hippogriff’s execution. I look away for a moment, and when I returned, thinking you’d have the good sense to leave before Dumbledore and the Minister had reached you… You were standing there… with someone else – someone I couldn’t explain.”

Heather frowned. What on earth was he talking about? When they were standing – before they were running trying to chase after Ron – no one was with them. “We were alone.”

“We weren’t with anyone,” Harry confirmed.

“You were.” Lupin glanced over at Ron. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. There wasn’t any reason in the world he’d be with you. How could he be?”

“No one was with us!” Hermione pointed at Black. “Not until HE – ”

“No,” Lupin cut her off. “I saw when a small dot labeled ‘Sirius Black’ ran towards you. I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow – ”

“He only dragged ONE of us in!” Ron said angrily, jabbing at his chest with his thumb. “Me!”

“No.” Lupin looked at Ron firmly, holding his gaze. “Two of you.”

There was more silence. Heather gripped both wands in her hand, feeling calmer about listening to Lupin descend into madness so long as he remained unarmed.

“Might I have a look at your rat?” Lupin said as evenly as a parent asking to see a very expensive crystal figure in the hands of their toddler. He held out his hand patiently.

“What’s Scabbers got to do with all this?” Ron pressed his hands to his robe pocket immediately.

“Everything – Could I see him, please?” Lupin repeated kindly.

Ron dug in his pocket and revealed his thrashing raging rat. Scabbers was trying so desperately to get away that Ron had to hold him out by his tail. “What’s a rat got to do with anything?”

“That’s not a rat.” Lupin whispered, watching it thrash around.

Ron forced a laugh. “Then what – ”

“He’s an animagus.” Black stood finally. “By the name of Peter Pettigrew,” he spit out the name like poison.

Ron turned to him wide-eyed. “You’re both mental. Harry they’re mental!”

Harry was shaking his head. “Peter’s dead. You killed Peter Pettigrew twelve years ago!”

Black’s eyes twitched and his face turned red. “No. I meant to,” he growled. “And this time little Peter won’t get the better of me! Not again!”

Black lunged at Lupin’s wand in Heather’s hand, knocking her down and pointed it at Scabbers. Heather scrambled to her feet as Lupin pushed Sirius Black back with what little strength he had left in him, holding the wand up to ensure all shots would be fired into the ceiling.

“We have to explain first!” Lupin shouted.

“Get off!” Black snarled, pushing Lupin back.

“Sirius, no! They need to understand or else – ”

“We’ll explain after! After its all finally over!”

Heather aimed her wand between the both of them. It looked like either one could pass out at any moment, neither having the strength or energy to fight the other.

“They have – a right – to know – everything!” Lupin wrestled his wand back as Black paused. “Harry, Heather, Ron, even Hermione – they are just as much involved as us. They deserve to know the truth, Sirius.”

Without taking his eyes off the rat, Black backed away. “Fine. But make it quick, Remus. I paid twelve years of time for this, I’m ready to do the crime I was sentenced for.”

“Nutters. The both of you!” Ron’s grip on Scabbers was tight but shaky. He looked at Harry, Heather, and Hermione. “I can’t take any more of this. I’m off.” He made to jump away from the post on his good leg but Lupin pointed his wand at him.

“You’re going to hear me out, all of you,” Lupin said quietly. “Please. So just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen.”

“This isn’t Peter! HE’S SCABBERS!” Ron’s yell knocked him off balance and made him fall back onto the bed.

“We keep telling you, Peter’s dead.” Heather kept her aim locked on Sirius, who’s gaze was locked on Scabbers.

“A whole street full of people watched you kill him.” Harry inched his way between Lupin and Ron, helping Ron back up.

“They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” Black’s eyes narrowed on Scabbers, as if putting all the world’s blame on Ron’s still struggling rat.

“Everyone believed the reports. Even I believed it when it was said that Sirius Black was a supporter and that he’d savagely murdered Peter out on that street. And then I saw the map tonight – the map never lies… It showed Peter, alive… And Ron’s holding him.” Lupin encouraged Harry and Ron to look at the trembling rat, as if they’d instantly see what he was talking about.

Heather watched Harry and Ron exchange looks. And then she met Harry’s eyes. She turned to look at Hermione and then it was final. They were all in agreement: Black and Lupin had lost their minds completely and utterly. They were absolutely mental.

From what very little they knew about Scabbers, he’d been passed down from Weasley brother to Weasley brother and was as boring and ordinary as any rat. Maybe Ron was right, and Crookshanks really was a monster. Maybe this had been Crookshank’s plan all along. He’d convinced the already loony Sirius Black that Ron’s rat was the very man he hated brought back to life, and then Black had convinced Lupin. All of this was an elaborate ruse for Crookshanks to finally get rid of Scabbers once and for all. Evil little Crookshanks.

“Professor Lupin,” Hermione spoke up. “You know it can’t be true… that Scabbers is Peter Pettigrew…”

Heather rolled her eyes. Hermione thinks she can talk sense into just about anything. What they needed to do is somehow communicate a plan of escape. Great, they’re both crazy, but Lupin still has a wand and they’re stuck behind a man who can turn into a dog and claw them to death.

“Why can’t it be true?” Lupin looked to Hermione and shrugged his shoulders like a teacher eager for engagement.

“Well… people would know if Peter Pettigrew were an animagus. The ministry keeps tabs on them and wizards who can become animals. He’d have shown up on the registry, and only seven Animagi were registered this century… And Peter wasn’t one.”

Heather hadn’t thought of finding out who was a registered animagus. When Professor McGonagall had taught about them, she’d gone to the library to find out more. How it was done, how one could ensure a type of animal, what the laws were – and nothing had come up. Madam Pince made a great show of informing her how very ‘unallowed’ her snooping was. Becoming an animagus could only be done under the strict supervision of the Ministry, who would provide all ingredients and instructions.

Her eyes shifted to Black. “Was Sirius Black on the list?”

Lupin’s eyes darted to her, and he smiled again, as if already knowing the answer.

“No,” Hermione gasped.

“The Ministry never knew there were three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts.”

“Three?” Heather breathed.

Black growled again from the corner of the room. “If you’re going to tell them the whole story, do it quickly, Remus. I’ve waited twelve years and I won’t wait much longer. I will murder him tonight, whether you’re done talking or not.”

Lupin put up his hands in an attempt to calm the situation back down. “You’re right… I’ll get on with it, but you’ll have to help me fill out gaps. I only know the beginning – ”

There was a creak behind Sirius Black. The door had swung open without anyone noticing. Heather had been too focused keeping her wand on Sirius Black, Lupin had been turned around looking at them. And she suspected Hermione, Harry, and Ron had also been keeping their eyes on Lupin and Black.

Lupin crossed the room passed Black and looked out onto the landing. “No one…” He closed the door and walked back.

Ron was shivering from fright, or maybe fright and blood loss. “This place is haunted!”

Lupin looked back at the door once more before shaking his head. “It’s not. It never was. The Shrieking Shack was… The howls the village used to hear… They were made by me.”

“What do you mean by you?” Heather checked the door once more, but it remained closed. “Do you mean they heard you howl… as a werewolf? In here?”

He nodded. “That’s a good place to start the story actually – with me becoming a werewolf. If I hadn’t been bitten, none of this would have happened…”

“Go on,” Hermione was watching keenly, as if ready to take mental notes during a lecture.

“I was a small boy when I received the bite. In those days, there was no cure, but my parents did try everything, at least once. That potion that I’ve been drinking all year, the one Professor Snape has been making me, is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe to be around. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform… I just… curl up in my office and wait for the moon to wane again.”

He was talking about the Wolfsbane potion. Heather shuttered at the thought of being put in charge of brewing it every month. One false move or miscalculation and hundreds of students could be put at risk from an out of control werewolf. And no one would even realize it wasn’t made correctly until the potion didn’t work that month. How recent is recent enough for a Potions Master to become familiar with the undoubtful success of a potion well brewed?

“Before the Wolfsbane potion was discovered, I was turning into a full-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would ever be able to attend Hogwarts. It’s not like other parents would want me around their children. Dumbledore, however, came up with a way to keep everyone safe from me during those times.” He sighed roughly. “The Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. All of this was built for my use. The tunnel and this house included. I was smuggled out of the castle and into this place to transform far away from everyone else. And the tree would ensure everyone would keep away.”

Heather couldn’t believe it. Dumbledore put all that work to ensure Lupin could attend the school. He’d have probably had to go against the Ministry, or fight very hard to allow it, especially with the way the Ministry wanted werewolves to be taught in school, as dangerous monsters whose monstrousness was of their own make.

“I was in so much pain when I transformed, that the village could hear everything I went through. They heard my howls and screams and thought it was violent spirits that haunted the home. Dumbledore even encouraged the rumors, and to this day the villagers don’t approach it.” Lupin looked as if he wanted to laugh, but his spirit was being weighed down by a fond sadness. “Despite my transformations every month… I was the happiest I ever was. For the first time I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… And James Potter.” He looked at Heather and Harry and smiled.

“They found me out about me as fast as you and Hermione, I think. I disappeared once a month and I only had so many excuses to tell them. I was terrified they’d desert me the moment they realized what I truly was. Except they didn’t. Instead, they did something to turn my transformations every month into the best times of my life. They became Animagi.”

“My dad…” Harry stared astounded.

“Oh yes. Him and Sirius worked tirelessly to do it. Took them three years to find it all out without anyone raising an eyebrow of suspicion. And trust me, there was already plenty suspicion being cast their way. Sirius and James were the cleverest students of our year, which was lucky, because the animagus transformation could have gone horribly wrong. Peter needed a great amount of help from them. But finally, come fifth year, they were all changing into a different animal at will.”

“But how is that helpful to you?” Hermione asked.

“They kept me company as animals. They all left the castle under James’ invisibility cloak and Peter, the smallest of them, would press the knot on the Whomping Willow and they could all come join me as their animal selves.”

“Move on with it, Remus.” Black was getting impatient just staring at the rat clutched tightly in Ron’s hands.

“Well… they became quite bored of the shack eventually… We started roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Although I was still very wolfish, my mind was much clearer around them. And James and Sirius were large enough to keep a grown werewolf in check. I doubt anyone knew the grounds quite like we did. That is how we came to write the Marauder’s Map. We even signed it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot, Peter is wormtail, and James was Prongs.”

“That was really foolish.” Hermione huffed. “What if you had given them the slip and gone and bitten someone?”

Heather nodded. “You ran around assuming no one else snuck out of the castle at night.”

Lupin nodded slowly, staring down at the space between them. “Incredibly foolish of us. There were near misses, at least a handful of them… We laughed about most of them afterwards… We were young, careless, thoughtless – got carried away with our own cleverness… Though I sometimes felt guilty betraying Dumbledore’s trust…”

No one spoke, allowing Lupin time to collect his thoughts or push down feelings he seemed to be having.

“No Headmaster had wanted to admit me until Dumbledore. And I betrayed his trust. He had no idea I was breaking the rules, risking people’s safety, encouraging my friends into illegal activity that the Ministry would not excuse. And all this year I’ve been battling with my guilt, knowing I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius is an animagus, but I didn’t do it. I was too cowardly to admit to him that I’d broken his trust all those years ago. He admitted me when no one else would, and he gave me a job when nowhere else will. His trust means everything to me… I convinced myself that Sirius was getting in using Dark Arts that he’d learned from you-know-who. I convinced myself that him being an animagus had nothing to do with anything all year… In a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

Black scoffed, bringing everyone attention to him. For the first time all night he let his attention drop from Scabbers. “Snape? What’s he got to do with it?”

“He’s working here at the school, Sirius. As a teacher.” Lupin looked back at them. “He was at school with us too. And he fought very hard to keep the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts away from me. All year he’s been telling Dumbledore that I’m not to be trusted. He has his reasons… See, Sirius played a trick on him that could have gotten him killed… A trick which involved me – “

Black made a dismissive noise. “A trick that served him right,” he sneered. “Snape was always sneaking around, trying to find out what we were doing… trying to get us expelled…”

“Snape was very interested in where I disappeared to each month,” Lupin told them. “We were in the same year, and we – er – didn’t like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous of him and his Quidditch talent… anyway, Snape saw me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomphrey as she led me to the Whomping Willow. Sirius thought it’d be – er – amusing – to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot with a long stick.”

“Of course he tried it,” Black cut in. “If I’d’ve told him he needed to chop off his own finger and sacrifice it to the Willow, he’d have done it, especially if it meant finding out what you were up to and getting you – and more likely, he hoped us – expelled.”

Lupin nodded. “If he’d got as far as the house, he’d have met a full grown werewolf. James however, heard what Sirius had done and went after Snape. He risked his own life and pulled Snape back just in time and saved him from what might have been a very gruesome death… for the both of them. However, Snape had caught a glimpse of me at the end of that tunnel. Dumbledore forbade him from telling anyone and since then he knew what I was…”

“That’s why he doesn’t like you,” Harry said slowly, as the revelation reached him. “He thinks you were in on the joke?”

From behind Lupin’s shoulder Heather caught a glimpse of what looked like the wall pattern shifting in wrinkles. Her eyes widened as the invisibility cloak fell to the floor, and Snape stepped forward, wand pointed at the back of Lupin’s head.

“That’s right,” Snape sneered, voice cold and tight with hatred.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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[donnerpartyofone]

reasons my i am probably too sensitive to have anything to do with other people

including other people’s drama that has absolutely nothing to do with me

i started reading this person’s new webcomic on instagram a month or two ago, and what started out as a fun little time killer that i looked forward to every day has started making me so uncomfortable that i wish i’d never heard of it. it takes place right now, in an especially embattled US city, and it’s about the dysfunctional lives of a bunch of shallow millennials, set against the backdrop of an increasingly dangerous country in an unpredictable state of revolt. it’s solidly engaging, convincingly characterized, and rendered in a unique funny animal style; i wasn’t surprised to discover that it’s going to be published soon by the most reputable publisher of this sort of thing. at first, i was impressed by it because i thought the behavior and dialog of its insecure young people was so well observed. it felt like one of the only things of its kind that i’ve read, more or less about real people living right now, that was neither a broad ugly satire, nor a pretentious drama exaggerating the specialness of its characters. the other thing i liked about it was that while it was largely about their sex lives, it didn’t seem at all sexy to me. the artist has a kind of distorted, rough-hewn visual style that i thought put some emotional distance between the overheated state of the characters, and the real consequences of their decisions. then it all got weird.

the artist stuck a really long, graphic sex scene in the middle of story that made me think...oh, maybe i AM supposed to be getting off to this? that’s weird, this all seems really bad to me, like every character is just mindlessly, selfishly bent on destruction and not doing much to make me like them, and i’d been reading along thinking “god i’m SO GLAD i’m not in my 20s anymore and i don’t have to deal with people like this--or with the pressure to act like this, as if using sex to create drama and being ‘crazy’ is the ultimate thing a person can do with their life”--and then suddenly it felt like maybe the comic was actually some kind of celebration of this lifestyle, or at the very least it’s an intensely sentimental portrait of a time of life, and of types of people, that i cannot imagine feeling sentimental about. then something else happened that made the comic even MORE uncomfortable to read, somehow: it had been gaining traction at an amazing pace, with tons of people leaving comments to the tune of “noooo don’t do it!”, the way you would yell at someone in a horror movie not to go back for the cat, as each character made the worst possible personal choice in every daily installment. the “don’t go in there!” response seemed pretty natural to me, but then the artist stepped in and made this announcement threatening to stop doing the comic altogether if the readers wouldn’t stop criticizing the characters. pretty much everyone in the comments was like “???”. many apologized if their comments were offensive, although they had no idea what they could have said that was wrong; other people, who seemed more sure that they were the ones being accused, said that they thought you were SUPPOSED to feel critical of the characters’ obviously bad decisions. that was how i felt, and at that point i was just enormously glad that i never comment on shit online or get involved in any type of community shit, especially when the artist started explaining laboriously that all of the characters represent some facet of the artist themselves and so therefore none of them are meant to be seen in a bad light at all and they’re all meant to be loved unconditionally and if you find yourself thinking mean things about the characters then you are effectively shitting all over the artist as a person. a lot of readers fell all over themselves to be supportive, and i just thought...this isn’t something you should support, though. it sucks that the artist is feeling so sensitive, but they’re about to have a book out in the world where they won’t have any ability to threaten readers who are “reading it wrong” or having incorrect thoughts about it. i mean...life is full of uncomfortable experiences and people you can’t relate to, i really don’t think we should be promoting this hopeless sanitization of all experiences in which trigger warnings used to be something that protected traumatized people from being randomly confronted with traumatic material, and now they’re used to just make sure nobody ever has to hear anything they don’t like, ever. anyone who cares about this artist should be helping them understand that they cannot control how people read their book or how they feel about each character and story in it. or failing that, they should be encouraged to just turn off instagram comments. but because of all this drama, i found myself reading all the comments obsessively--something i did when the blowup first happened, because i couldn’t find anything in there that i thought was mean or offensive, which added to my uncomfortable fascination with the whole thing--and that’s when i spotted a comment where somebody asked the artist is this was a furry comic. i wish this didn’t blow my mind, but it kind of did. i mean, it’s a book where almost all the characters are animals, and they occasionally have a bunch of raunchy sex. i think that if you’re a furry, meaning you’re interested in that sort of thing, this book is completely available for you to enjoy however you want. but this person needed the artist to FORMALLY CATEGORIZE IT as a furry comic. what the fuck is the meaning of that? it struck me as something that people in fandoms do, where they need every single thing to be labeled to death in an intensive and intractable way like it was science, the Final Word on everything in the universe, and they like *argue with each other* about whether they’re *allowed* to ship certain characters together or imagine them doing specific things, which is something you would only worry about if you thought the topic represented a literal material reality that could be adversely affected by people’s improper thoughts. i mean imagine if you felt that way about your jerkoff fantasies about fictional characters? that your horny thoughts are up for debate by hundreds of people you don’t even know? imagine feeling like that about OTHER PEOPLE’S jerkoff fantasies, like it’s worth fighting over and trying to CONTROL? like holy fucking shit you guys, STOP IT. it would even be one thing to ask the artist if THEY were a furry, which may or may not be anybody’s business, but to ask whether interpreting the comic through a furry lens is ALLOWED is like...well, actually, maybe it’s exactly in line with the artist’s recently expressed attitude, that you’re forced to think of the book in exactly the way that they personally think about it, or else you should have your reading privileges revoked. so now i’m still reading the comic, sort of compulsively, because i’m a little addicted to the soap opera of it and i’m ALSO a little addicted to the soap opera of the artist battling the readers over finding the correct orthodoxy for reading the comic--there’s a particular guy i’ve become aware of in the comics community because he is always harassing people with this mix of really caustic sarcasm and really bitter political self-righteousness, and he was surely the main person who was being “mean” to the characters, and HE’S STILL DOING IT IN EXACTLY THE SAME WAY, because i guess the artist would rather have problems with people than simply block them and eliminate them from the equation? but the whole entire thing is making me so uncomfortable i can hardly stand it. reading about like, dumb hot chicks with no self-control, and smug young shitheads who use the veil of progressiveness to hide or justify their predatory sexual behavior, and grownass adults who start drama with 20 year olds in order to feel relevant, AND being forced to know that the artist intends for me to embrace and adore all of this bad shit--like, people and things i left behind in real life, because it was all bad!--with ultimate love and compassion, or else they reserve the right to claim that they’re being personally attacked, has just become too much to take. it’s starting to make me feel sick. i really need to take the reigns on this thing. as much as the artist needs to forget about this control fantasy and stop being so precious about what they’re doing, i need to stop subjecting myself to something i find painful, embarrassing, and frankly creepy, if i ever wanna get back to a state where i have less to complain about.

tl;dr: stupid hipster is too sensitive to read a webcomic by a stupid hipster who is too sensitive for anyone to read their webcomic.

[rhysand-vs-fenrys]

Could you do a thing about who The Untamed characters are? Your weekly posts and such are good, but I was wondering what their context is?

-Sure!! I’ll put it under a “Keep Reading” so it doesn’t flood anyone’s dash :)

**I usually reblog Untamed asks to my Untamed fandom page as well, so this note is for followers of Wuxian-vs-Wangji:: I’m avoiding spoilers in these descriptions and trying to simplify things into a format non-viewers can follow, so please do not comment with spoilers.

I also limited the list of characters to those in 10+ episodes, which left some fan favorites off the list.

Main & Major Characters Throughout the Story::

Wei Wuxian // Wei Ying (Informal Name) // Yiling Patriarch (The Sage of the Burial Mounds)

Think... Battlemage Necromancer.

Uses the dark flute Chenqing to draw out and command the hate and resentful energy of the dead, weaponizing it against his enemies.

Adopted by the Yunmeng-Jiang Clan Leader after his mother (a rogue cultivator) and father (a beloved Jiang servant) were killed in a monster hunt.

Considered by Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng to be no different from a blood sibling.

Killed on the Cliffs of Heavenly Nightless by his brother Jiang Cheng while committing suicide in the first 5 minutes of the show; Resurrected via a rare and dangerous spell by madman Mo Xuanyu 16 years later.

In the Present Arc, Wei Wuxian dons a mask so others will not recognize him (laughably the mask fools absolutely no one but he Commits to the Look) and pretends to be the insane outcast Mo Xuanyu.

Lan Wangji // Lan Zhan (Informal Name) //  Hanguang-Jun (The Light-Bearing Lord)

As younger brother to the so-far childless Clan Leader of the Gusu-Lan, he is the Clan Heir and commands a position of high power and respect worldwide.

As he and his older brother are seen as the pride and joy of the Lan Clan, they are referred to worldwide as “The Twin Jades of Lan”.

Considered a paragon of righteousness and virtue.

Joyless, friendless, and isolated from others at the start of the story, but develops first a begrudging respect for- then love for- Wei Wuxian.

For 16 years he refuses to accept that Wei Wuxian is dead since no body was recovered. Lan Wangji travels the world and throws himself headfirst at chaos both to protect the common people and in hopes that Wei Wuxian will appear.

In the present-arc, acts as a teacher and guide to the Junior Disciples of the Gusu-Lan.

Particularly skilled in a Lan musical technique called “Inquiry”, in which a guqin (zither) player mixes spiritual energy into a song and plays notes as a coded language to commune with the souls of the dead and ask them questions. Lan Wangji also develops a proficiency for an extremely rare and difficult form of guqin magic where he can literally attack people with the sound and power of the instrument.

Wei Wuxian’s own use of music to control others seems to have been heavily inspired by the Lan magics, though theirs are mainly in the vein of healing and suppressing darkness.

Jiang Wanyin // Jiang Cheng (Informal Name) // Yunmeng-Jiang Clan Leader // Sandu-Shengshou (Master of Three Poisons)

Most commonly referred to only by the informal name “Jiang Cheng”

Beloved brother- and eventually bitter enemy of- Wei Wuxian.

One of those fancy multi-purpose tools in human form (the Tooliest of Tools)

Thanks to his parents, has a massive inferiority complex that usually leads to violent outbursts against his adopted brother.

Like Lan Wangji, cannot accept that Wei Wuxian is dead as only charred bones were found where he fell. Spends 16 years hunting down any whisper of Wei Wuxian or demonic cultivation and executing any demonic cultivators he finds. 

Feels both extreme hatred and guilt towards Wei Wuxian.

Wears a purple snake bracelet-and-ring combo on one hand, the spiritual tool Zidian given to him by his mother. Zidian takes the form of a whip that strikes not only the flesh, but the soul of a person. It can instantly destroy any spirit possessing a body.

Wen Qionglin // Wen Ning (Informal Name) // The Ghost General

Almost exclusively referred to by the informal name Wen Ning.

Considered to be a weapon- or pet- of Wei Wuxian’s.

A young cultivator who Wei Wuxian resurrected from the dead and who acted as his subordinate during the rise of the Yiling Patriarch.

Fiercely loyal to Wei Wuxian in both life and death.

Black veins and eyes mark him as one of the ultra-rare Living Dead. Not a mindless zombie slave (Ghost-Puppet), but a fully conscious reanimated human capable of independent thought and action.

In battle, Wei Wuxian will use his flute Chenqing to focus resentment and hatred through Wen Ning and give him enhanced abilities, control his actions, or calm him.

Other Figures: Both Past and Present Arcs

Lan Xichen // Lan Huan (Informal Name) //  Zewu-Jun (The Grand Overgrowth Lord)

Clan Leader of the Gusu-Lan and elder brother of Lan Wangji.

Though he is Clan Leader, often deferrs to or is advised by his Uncle Lan Qiren (who HATES Wei Wuxian).

As he and his younger brother are seen as the pride and joy of the Lan Clan, they are referred to worldwide as “The Twin Jades of Lan”.

The most respected Clan Leader in the world for his kind and fair nature. Often acts as an arbitrator in disputes.

Uses a white jade flute to calm and settle angry or resentful energy around him. Wei Wuxian is his dark reflection.

Willing to give anyone a chance due to his pacifist nature. Does not feel hatred towards Wei Wuxian but rather tries to understand what drove him towards darkness and help guide him back.

Ships Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji relentlessly and often finds ways to push them together early on.

Nie Huaisang (No formal/informal name) // Nie Clan Heir // Nie Clan Leader

Half-brother of the Nie Clan Leader Nie Mingjue, later becomes Clan Leader in his place.

Despite being first heir to- then leader of- a Clan that prides itself on brute strength, Nie Huaisang is a kind and gentle soul who prefers the arts and artistic pursuits.

Religiously carries around a fan and never holds a sword.

Sweetheart, goober, and close friend of Wei Wuxian. Even in Wei Wuxian’s fall from grace, never bears him any ill will as Wei Wuxian never does anything to harm him. 

The only major (still living) character not at the Battle of Nightless where Wei Wuxian dies (though his brother Nie Mingjue was present).

Informally titled “The Head Shaker” as Clan Leader due to his indecisive nature. Whenever asked questions he frequently shakes his head and says “I don’t know”.

Considered a weak fool by many, but he is frequently advised (and coddled) by Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao.

Jin Guangyao // Meng Yao (Informal Name) // Lianfang-Zun (Hidden-Fragrance Master)

Originally a servant of the Nie family, taken in by Nie Mingjue.

Bastard son of the Jin Clan Leader Guangshan and a prostitute, is consistently demeaned and debased for his parentage. The only ones who show him respect and kindness are Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen.

Half brother of Jin Zixuan and Mo Xuanyu (the madman who resurrects Wei Wuxian)

While a servant of the Nie Clan, Guangyao frequently acts as a buffer between ultra-masculine Nie Mingjue and his softer half-brother Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang may be thought a dumbass by most, but he’s *Guangyao’s* dumbass, and thus Guangyao consistently shows care towards Nie Huaisang.

Other High-Profile Characters:: Both Past and Present Arcs (Noted by their names)

**Some will say I’ve left names off this list, but to avoid getting into EVERYTHING  everyone does, I’m limiting this to characters in 10+ episodes. This leaves some fandom favorites off the list but this is only meant to be a basic introductory guide. 

Sorry to fans of Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, A-Qing, and Wen Yuan.

(Past Arc) Wen Qing (women do not have formal vs informal names or titles)

Wen Ning’s beloved elder sister.

Distant cousin to the evil Wen Ruohan and Wen Chao, and thus holds a prominent position within the Wen Clan. In the novels I believe she is said to be the 4th most powerful person in the entire Wen Clan (Behind Wen Ruohan and his two sons).

Considered to be the greatest physician ever produced by the Dafan-Wen, a clan of healers subjugated by the evil Wen Clan.

Her loyalties lie exclusively with her little brother Wen Ning, and she will do anything to keep him safe and protected. On her own though, she does tend towards the side of good and acts against her Clan when she is able to do so without putting Wen Ning at risk.

(Past Arc) Jiang Yanli (women do not have formal vs informal names or titles)

Beloved elder sister of both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian.

Eldest daughter of Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu.

Eventual wife of Jin Clan Heir Jin Zixuan and mother of Jin Clan Heir Jin Ling.

Engaged to Jin Zixuan since infancy, though he is initially dismissive of and even cold towards her.

The Peacekeeper of her family, Jiang Yanli protects Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng from her emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive mother.

Acts as a mediator of disputes between her two younger brothers. Jiang Yanli is very much the glue that binds the family together.

(Past Arc) Jin Zixuan (No other name given) // Jin Clan Heir

Only *acknowledged* child of Jin Clan Leader Jin Guangshan, though he is the half-brother to a large number of bastard siblings.

These siblings include Nie servant Jin Guangyao/Meng Yao and Mo Xuanyu (the madman who resurrects Wei Wuxian)

Eventual husband of Jiang Yanli and father of Jin Clan Heir Jin Ling.

Originally a haughty and arrogant young lord, he is dismissive of his lifelong fiancee Jiang Yanli and frequently disparages her (leading to violent fights with her brothers).

Is very much disliked by both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng (for his treatment of Yanli).

A semi-professional dumbass, maturity comes to him slower than most.

(Present Arc) Jin Rulan // Jin Ling (Informal name) // Jin Clan Heir

One of the so-called “Junior Squad”, a handful of Junior Disciples from different Clans who band together to fight the bad guys (Ancient Fantasy China Power Rangers).

The only child of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan.

In episode 2 it is revealed that Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan died tragically just after his birth.

Largely raised by his uncle Jiang Cheng with some input from uncle Jin Guangyao. As uncle Jiang Cheng has the emotional stability of a spoon, Jin Ling tends to be rash, arrogant, and rude. He is kept isolated from other youths of his age and thus has no friends.

Accompanied everywhere by his dog Fairy, a spiritual beast (more powerful than a normal dog).

Also a nephew of Wei Wuxian, though Jin Ling was a newborn when Wei Wuxian died and thus has no relationship with him.

(Present Arc) Lan Sizhui // Lan Yuan (Informal name)

One of the so-called “Junior Squad”, a handful of Junior Disciples from different Clans who band together to fight the bad guys (Ancient Fantasy China Power Rangers).

As Lan Wangji’s chief student, Lan Sizhui is heavily favored by the normally cold and detached Wangji. He is therefore the de-facto leader of the Lan Junior Disciples.

Sizhui is warm, kind, and caring. He never speaks ill of others and even tries to be kind to Jin Ling while the other junior disciples (including Lan ones) generally scorn the other boy.

Regardless of if he is posing as Mo Xuanyu or after he is “outed” as Wei Wuxian, Lan Sizhui is always very respectful and kind towards Wei Wuxian. He considers him a wise senior and feels at ease when Wei Wuxian is nearby.

(Present Arc) Lan Jingyi (No other name given)

One of the so-called “Junior Squad”, a handful of Junior Disciples from different Clans who band together to fight the bad guys (Ancient Fantasy China Power Rangers).

If Lan Sizhui is the de-facto leader of the Lan Junior Disciples, Jingyi is Sizhui’s second. The two are best friends and are almost never seen out of one another’s company.

Snarky, sarcastic, and big-mouthed, Lan Jingyi is the “Wei Wuxian” of the Junior Squad. He has yet to meet a cultivator he isn’t willing to talk back to, be that “Mo Xuanyu” (Wei Wuxian) or even Jiang Clan Leader Jiang Cheng.

Lan Jingyi is also highly intelligent and is the first to question if “Mo Xuanyu” is truly insane or just someone pretending to be so. He makes other accusations throughout the story that at the time see unfounded but are later proven correct.

Mortal enemy of Jin Ling (if by ‘mortal enemy’ you mean bitchy and reluctant friend)

(Past Arc) Nie Mingjue (No other name given) // Nie Clan Leader // Chifeng-Zun (Scarlet-Blade Lord)

Clan Leader of the Nie Clan in the “Past Arc”.

Elder half-brother of Nie Huaisang.

Nie Mingjue is hard on his half-brother, as the Nie are renown for their warrior skills and Huaisang is more of a lover than a fighter.

Nie Mingjue is close friends with Lan Xichen, and often visits him for guidance. Lan Xichen is his closest friend and confidant throughout the story.

Nie Mingjue is a powerful and ruthless cultivator (against his enemies, he’s no sociopath) and often loses his temper. 

He is closely bonded with his broadsword Baxia, and she often moves on her own if he is particularly enraged.

(Past and Present Arcs) Xue Chengmei // Xue Yang (Informal name)

Most commonly referred to simply as “Xue Yang”- his formal name may not be in the show at all.

A low-level thug taken in by the evil Wen Clan and used as a sort of private hit-man.

Xue Yang is brutal, ruthless, and merciless against anyone he crosses paths with. Holds particular disdain for powerful and righteous clans, as he was maimed by a low-level Clan Leader.

Is missing his pinky finger because of an “accident” he suffered as a child and thus wears a glove on one hand.

Initially Xue Yang is introduced as a “guest disciple” of the Wen Clan, but later he branches out on his own.

(Past Arc) Luo Qingyang // Mian-Mian (nickname)

Though it is not customary for a woman to have courtesy vs informal names, Luo Qingyang is almost exclusively referred to by the nickname “Mian-Mian” throughout the series.

A guest disciple of the Jin Clan and direct subordinate of Jin Zixuan.

Mian-Mian originally is shown to be haughty and fiercely loyal to Jin Zixuan, though she often finds ways to assist Jiang Yanli get closer to him throughout his Dumbass Phase.

Mian-Mian is a tough and outspoken female cultivator, sometimes even standing at odds with her own clan.

(Past Arc) Wen Chao (No other name given)

The vicious, cruel second son of villain Wen Ruohan.

Distant cousin of Wen Qing and Wen Ning. He frequently takes Wen Ning as a sort of hostage to guarantee Wen Qing’s compliance with his demands.

Wen Chao is arrogant and haughty. He considers himself superior to all other disciples because of his clan. 

He is the main antagonist of Wei Wuxian in the “past” arc, and considers it part of his duty to destroy Wei Wuxian and the Jiang Clan for their refusal to bow to his family.

Frequently appears together with his mistress Wang Lingjiao (a wife is mentioned but never shown) tormenting or directly torturing younger cultivators.

[alphapockets]

Here is what’s in store for my writing!

Hey everyone. As promised, I would give more information about everything going down with my writing both in the fanfiction world and in my personal endeavors.

Fanfiction: I am setting a schedule for the two I have currently. Behind the Screen will be Mondays and Discord will be Thursdays. There is no plan to fill those slots when one inevitably is brought to a close, though that may change in the future.

Through Ko-Fi, I will be accepting commissions by the end of next month when I have a better understanding of what I can/cannot write and what will fit within my timeslots. My major issue is I am less versed in fandoms as I am not a large consumer of shows/movies/games with plot.

Personal works: For those who follow me here and on Twitter, I will have available the novelized version of the DnD campaign that my friends and I have been running for now 72 sessions of tonight. That will be available on Wattpad and linked through Twitter and Tumblr.

I also have started to flesh out a Patreon page that will have new chapters monthly for three (3) Origins novels for characters at a time, as well as an LGBTQ+ supernatural series that I worked on for NaNoWriMo 2019 and the Sci-Fi/Soulmate series that I worked on for NaNoWriMo 2020. Tiers will be based around that, getting behind the scenes content, priority on commissions if that ever becomes a thing… etc.

 Social Media: YES all things Alphapockets (excluding my IG because I can’t change it now because there is an imposter Pockets out there somewhere) will be dedicated to writing updates/small notes/ stream of consciousness/ pictures of my dog while I write because she’s adorable. I also want to get better and building a community, so please, message me! Contact me! I love hearing from y’all <3!

 Free Content:

Into the Wolf’s Den

In the continent of Elazic in the South Sea a slumbering darkness is waking. The whispers of discourse tangle in the winds as the nations are faced with ever growing tensions. A king's assassination. Dragons awoke. The barriers between the planes grow thin. And danger and responsibility is thrust toward a group of strangers who met at chance in a tavern amidst their separate travels.

Tags: High Fantasy, Magic, Violence, Minor Adult Content, LGBTQ+ Characters, Adventure, Mystery, DnD, Dark Undertones.

 Tier Content:

Origins: The Angel

The island nation of the Drakken Isles is a world of exotic and beast-like beings who have made a life far from the humans of Tranel. Caoimhe, a cleric of the King of Storms and child of his celestial and another cleric grows up in a world where she knows something more exists in her future. At the age of 18, she heads out on her own spirit quest as her mother had over two decades before, unsure of where her path may lead.

 Origins: The Taken

Aelira spent much of her early years traveling with her parents who had left their life of rules and royal demands to be merchants and artisans. After half a century living by the capital of Fremorē, a voice came in the night to her saying she must leave. For the next 160 years, she roamed the world and left the life she knew behind to keep them all safe unaware of all she had done in service of a darker entity that had stripped her of her soul.

 Origins: The Thief

Marcus was a child of the streets who had been raised in a tough world. Parentless, homeless, and without rules, the young boy grew into a young man who lived outside of the law. A chance run in with a being who was far more than a man trapped him in a cycle of debts he could not escape. Even as the man died before his eyes, he would come to collect again and make Marcus far more dangerous to his companions than he may seem.

 Hunted

Four friends living in a cramped apartment in Savannah notice their friend Eliana has captured the attention of a man. While Meghan, Jamilla, and Petra continue to dig deeper, they uncover another side of their beloved city and a whole world that was better left untouched. In an attempt to keep their friend safe, the other girls start to make dealings with the devils who run the underground groups of supernaturals.

 Starscapes

Micah worked hard to get where he was: special operations in the part of the military that was never fully public with their actions. His failed bond through the program left him as an outlier on the job until one night, he was visited in a dream by a young man with pale green eyes. As he investigated and trained, Micah uncovers the truth of his program, the government, and the young man who he cannot stop feeling despite the distance he knows exists between them.

   So that’s it! If you have any questions, please ask. I would love to let y’all know more! The Patreon is not live yet, as I am still editing the content before posting it, but I am due to open at the end of January with the first month’s content available. Thank you to everyone who has made me feel like my writing could be more than just for fun. This will NOT impact my fanfiction writing on AO3 at all, as that is one of my favorite things to do. Honestly, I couldn’t quit that if I tried.

Xoxo Pockets

[stuck-in-hawkins]

When He Left: Fall Semester 1989

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x Will Byers

Rating: Teen

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656785/chapters/62398351

August 18th 1989

Mike’s eyes stung as he made his way back from the airport.  He turned down familiar roads. He thought he was driving back to his house but then, he ended up on Mirkwood.  He pulled over and rested his head on the steering wheel.  He didn’t want to go back home.  He didn’t want to sit in that house with his parents, who wouldn’t understand why he was crying so much.  He couldn’t explain it to them.  He didn’t want to face it.  But he so desperately wanted to talk about it.  

Lucas, Max, and Dustin were still getting settled in their dorms.  He would talk about it with them, but there was no way to reach them now.  The dorms’ only lines were shared pay phones, meaning they had to call him.  He felt like he was unraveling.  He just wanted to go someplace he could talk about it… or else he risked slipping into old habits.  

A thought dawned on him and he turned the ignition, waking the engine again.  He drove towards Indianapolis.  

_____________________

 Mike stood at the front door, he remembered how nervous Will had been the first time.  Coming to group had been such a good thing for Will.  He opened up and could talk about things he had bottled up, questions, thoughts, and topics that had been forbidden in most every other place.  The Indiana Youth Group had provided a safe space for Will and other queer teens to come together to talk and hang out.  Mike had driven Will countless times: sometimes for meetings, sometimes for events the group had arranged. Mike didn’t always stay for them, though.  He knew that group was one of the few places Will could talk about their relationship.  Mostly, he would just drop Will off, especially towards the end.

Mike couldn’t seem to move.  Doubt froze him to the stoop.  His fingers hovered over the doorbell..  He wondered if he had any right to be there.  He was straight… just also in love with his best friend.  He was confused.  What right did he have to be there?  But then, the door swung in and Chris Gonzalez stood in the frame; the man who ran the group, organized the meetings, opened up his home to lost teens.  His face was nearly always accompanied by a kind smile, like the one he was giving Mike.

“It’s good to see you again, Mike.  Come on in.”  

Mike nodded, “Nice to see you, too.” He followed behind him, still feeling awkward but thankful for the invite, it made him feel a little less like an outsider.

Everybody was putting food on their plates and sitting down.  Mike knew he should probably eat, but his stomach was so tight and gnawing on itself.  He just grabbed a roll and picked at it.  What was he even going to say?  

“Mike!”  

He turned to see Aubrey.  She didn’t give him a moment and wrapped him up in a hug.  

“Aubrey! How have you been?”

She had changed her hair to be in box braids with beads of every color, paired with bright neon shirt that read: “We are Everywhere.”

She let go, her smile shining.   “Really good!  I haven’t seen you since the picnic!  How have you been?”

“Good.  You did an incredible job organizing it.  I can’t believe how many people were there!”

She beamed, “I only organized the student chapter.”

“Well, it was a lot of fun.”  

“Thank you.  Do you want to get a seat together?”

“Sure.”  He felt such a wave of relief at not having to sit alone.  

As everybody sat down, Chris and his partner, Jeff, started out the meeting the way they always did, emphasizing the importance of confidentiality and sensitivity with the information, experiences, and stories shared in the space.  Mike listened as people began to share.  The knot in his stomach tightened and he felt like an invader.  Like a whiny child, craving attention, taking it away from people who had experienced far worse.  Someone who had been kicked out of their house and were living with a friend.  Another who couldn’t seem to break the cycle of abuse in their relationships.

What right did he have to be there?

“Mike, do you want to share?”

Mike nodded, “Umm… I… some of you probably don’t know me, but I’m Will’s friend.  I just dropped him off at the airport.  He’s going to college in San Francisco.” He looked around the room and suddenly felt his courage flee.  “I just wanted you guys to know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for Will.  He’s been my friend for most of my life and he’s always been pretty shy around other people so I was nervous about him being out in California but he really opened up with you guys and it… it’s just a huge relief.  So, thank you.”

“It was wonderful having him here, and it’s good to see you here, too.  But you know you’re welcome here just as much, don't you?” Chris smiled.

Mike shook his head, “I…” His thoughts accused and raced around him, ‘I am a leech.’  ‘I don’t belong here.’ ‘I just would take up space.’

“Mike, if there is something else you want to talk about, it’s okay.”

How much had Will told them?  Did they know about their relationship?  Did they think he was just an asshole who used Will as a rebound?  He blinked hard.

He was trying so hard to keep it in but it was bursting forth.  He held his arm over his face.  

He tried to breathe but a sob came out instead.  “I didn’t want him to go.”  He felt Aubrey’s hand on his.  “I mean I want him to be happy.  I want him to get the job of his dreams…”  Then, it was like he’d opened the floodgates and everything came pouring out.  “I was such a selfish prick.  The whole time.  We… I know he probably told you guys but… Will and I used to.... We kissed.” And slept together and held each other.  Mike confessed, feeling shame in his cheeks, “I made it out like it was some kind of placeholder.  I knew it was temporary.  That I wouldn’t go with him to California.  So I didn’t want to give it a name.  I didn’t want to say what it actually was.  I don’t think I’m gay because I loved girls for most of my life.  I don’t know why I made an exception for him.  I don’t know how I can stop feeling this.  I don’t know how to let him go.”  He folded in on himself.  He felt embarrassed for laying himself bare like this, but it felt so good to say it.  “And I know I need to let him go, because… he’s gonna find someone else there-” and then he couldn’t talk anymore.  Aubrey had her hand on his back and he felt so weak.  

He heard Aubrey, “It’s okay, Mike.  For what it’s worth, I think you were an amazing boyfriend to Will, even if you didn’t call it that.  You’re a good friend to him.”

“I used him,” Mike whispered.

Elaine spoke from across the room.  She was transitioning to female.  In the time since Mike’s last visit, her hair had grown longer, and it was more stylized.  She seemed healthier, and he could hear her voice was changing, too. “I don’t think you used him, Mike.  You brought him here, drove him to the airport, actively encouraged him to go out there. None of that comes from someone that uses their partner.”

Chris spoke in a tone that was quiet but comforting, “Mike, the pain you are feeling right now is a kind of grief.  You are right to feel like something is ending because, in a lot of ways, your relationship with Will is going to change.  But that is not a bad thing.  You have such a strong foundation of friendship that I don’t think a thousand miles could break that.”

Mike wiped his eyes.  They stung so much from the day’s tears.  A boy from on the other side of Mike handed him a box of tissues.  

Jeff offered, “And it isn’t just one or the other.  Being straight or gay.  There is a large spectrum of sexuality that I think we are only beginning to scratch the surface of.  There are people that are attracted to one sex, both, or none at all.”  He asked, “Have you told Will about this?  About how you feel?”

Mike shook his head.  “Not really, but won’t it hurt him more to tell him now that we’re miles apart?”

Jeff answered, “I think communication is the most important thing in any relationship and will get you through most things life has to throw at you.  Burying it, hiding your feelings, hurts more in the end.”

It had felt so good and cathartic to talk with them, to let out something he’d been holding in for what felt like forever.  But their advice, while comforting, was so much harder to follow when Will was actually on the phone.  

For the first month Will was at college, Mike was like a lifeline for him.  Will called nearly every other day.  He knew Will depended on his voice to get through all the newness of the place.  Of having a roommate who didn’t understand why Will woke up in a panic at least once a week.  Of feeling overwhelmed with the load of work.  Not because the amount was especially heavy but because Will felt like nothing he made was good enough.  He was alongside people that went to high schools devoted to the arts or had been enrolled in courses since elementary school.  Mike imagined himself a lighthouse in a storm for Will.  And, if he was being honest with himself, he craved it.  It felt good to be needed.  

And so it was easier to prioritize Will’s problems, to minimize his own and not talk about his confusion.  And the longer he waited to tell Will, the more it felt awkward.  He was building up a wall.  He knew what he was doing, he just didn’t know how to stop.  Was this why it took Will so long to come out?

As the month went on, though, Will called less.  He had begun to find people in San Francisco.  The presence of the gay community was so open there.  For the first time, he saw drag queens out walking the city strips.  The Castro district became his sanctuary and he even found some people that went to his college.  Will found ways to distract himself outside of Mike.

He could feel Will pulling away.  He was opening up.  He didn’t need him as much and suddenly, confessing wasn’t such a scary thing, it might be a way to keep Will close.  But thinking like that felt so selfish.  His reason felt so selfish.  

He hadn’t been going to say anything but found himself slip one day.  “What do you think about bi people?”

Will seemed surprised, “What do you mean?”

Mike could feel his palms sweating as he held the receiver.  He’d overheard conversations from some of the gay guys in group.

‘I don’t understand how anyone could date someone bisexual.  What if he just decided he liked girls better after all? No thanks.’  ‘I got enough problems finding a guy who can commit to a relationship.  I don’t need one who can’t even pick a gender.’

Mike stumbled, “Just um… if you know anyone that is… if you think they’re just faking it… I dunno…”

Will was quiet for a second.  “June used to say something like that.  That bi guys are just gay guys that are too cowardly to admit to it.  But I think that’s bull.  Bowie is bi and he’s one of the bravest people I know.”

Mike exclaimed, “Where did you hear that Bowie is bi?!”

“One of my friends in group has been religiously recording Bowie interviews for ages.  In one of them the interviewer asked if he was bisexual and he was just like, ‘I am.’  The interviewer was like, ’Yeah, but are you really?’ And he just told her, ‘I’ve answered the question.’”  Will laughed,  “There’s a reason he’s an icon.”

Mike couldn’t find the words. Somebody that felt so close, someone that was in his box of records, was bisexual and he never knew.  Nobody talked about it.

Will continued, “I can’t pretend that I understand what it’s like.  For me, I never liked girls.  So I can’t imagine what it’s like being bi, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist or that their experiences are invalid, you know?”

Mike nodded, and barely spoke out an audible, “Yeah.”  He felt relieved but didn’t know how to get the next part out.  “I- Will?  I... I loved El.  But everything with you… none of it was pretend.”  

“I never felt like it was.”  And Mike could hear it.  There was a way Will communicated sometimes.  His heart would be in his throat and he could say so much with so little.  

Mike laid his head back on the pillow, it was barely audible, “It’s still there… I love you.”  There was a moment of fear, that he would hold Will back, that he was trying to keep a bird in a cage but then, without a moment’s hesitation-  

“I love you, Mike.”  He could hear it as full as the day in the airport.  

Mike felt his heart swell.  There was a heaviness, a weight.  It was something that they always said, but this time it was different.  This time it felt binding.  There was no ‘now’ at the end.  Nothing to tie it to the moment.  It was something that would stretch out for forever, or for as long as Mike could foresee it.  And though Mike was afraid, although he still wasn’t sure if he even believed in forever, he wanted to believe in it with every fiber of his being.

His doubt was kept at bay for the moment.  But only for that moment...