averyj95-blog

[coulsonlives]

I just saw another 'callout' for someone where the charges were 'something something incest and ~CHiLd pORN!!!~'...

And yes it was all fictional shit, nothing real had even happened, and this person wasn't abusing anyone. These people were calling literal fiction art 'child porn' lmao. Maybe it's icky to me and most people but fictional stuff is allowed on platforms like tumblr and twitter for good reason y'all. Oh and ao3 which half these dingbats seemed to use for some reason.

Like, at least pick a story before you start being hypocrites

[heavenstarship]

tell me about johnny please please please 🙏🙏 you have given me brainworms about him i need to know everything about him 💝💝💝

johnathan "johnny" louise hearst... that little SHIT... you are the third person to get brainworms about him and the second person besides me who has them. thank you for giving me the opportunity to yap about him.

preface: johnny is largely based off of oingo boingo's debut album only a lad, as well as some of their other work (mainly demos from that era and the song cool city by danny elfman). when i say he's based off of only a lad, i mean it. i've wrung every drop of characterization i can out of those 10 tracks. "even THAT one?" ESPECIALLY that one. buckle in.

lore: from the onset, johnny was pretty much out of luck. born into a family with an already plentiful share of problems (older sister who could never really stick to the right path, emotionally unstable mom, military dad), his parents divorced pretty soon after he was born. his mom wound up with primary custody, and he and his sister only saw their dad every so often. johnny starts showing signs of trouble pretty early on, and rather than doing anything about it, his mom opts to leave him to his own devices. he discovers matches, developing his fascination bordering obsession with fire. he was already a trouble in class- couldn't sit still, couldn't pay attention, was a terror on the playground- so lighting something on fire during school hours was the tipping point that got him kicked out of 3rd or 4th grade. since he had no discipline or support, he lacks any real sense of right and wrong... leading him to believe that taking one of his parents' guns, stealing his neighbor's radio, and shooting her in the leg was a completely fine thing to do. she obviously recognizes that the incident isn't entirely his fault and his circumstances are more to blame, but unfortunately his neighbors preferred to cry out about his situation instead of trying to get him help. his mother, reaching the end of her already short rope, seeks to have her child whipped into shape. a close family friend, mr. one-way, notices her plight and offers to take johnny in under his wing to have him reformed into an upstanding member of society.

he starts receiving lessons- on how to act properly, obedience, servitude, all things a budding young lass should know for a good future under the american dream- is enrolled back in school, and seems to be getting better. lessons in matters primarily aiming to get the kid to shut up and put his head down give way to easy coercion, and mr. one-way, who should have been helping johnny, uses the opportunity to irreparably damage him. a drastic change in johnny is immediately apparent; sure, he's not acting out anymore, but he's a husk of the bright and bubbly kid everyone knew. eventually, everything that's going on gets too much for johnny, and he tells a trusted adult. word about it spreads fast, and before anyone can get a handle on the situation, the man who committed this horrible deed goes on the run. johnny is left shattered and believing this is all his fault. that coupled with the fact that his mother both blames him for mr. one-way's dissappearance and doesn't believe johnny about what happened pushes johnny over the edge, and he decides to make some very drastic changes. he seeks to destroy who he once was, to obliterate what mr. one-way or anyone else may have seen in him, to reinvent himself in an image that will truly make him happy and break free from the way everyone has always perceived him. with the help of his sister, he lobs his ponytails off, ditches the dresses and joins his local boy scout troop. his mother pitches a fit, but ultimately isnunable to stop him from making his own decisions. he discovers a home away from home in his scout troop; sure, his behavior may not be improving, but at least he's cared for and loved.

things at home and school get worse. his mother hates him now more than ever, and bullying at school increases tenfold. though his sister and his friends try to protect him, they can only do so much. johnny turns to acting out, desperately trying to make someone see him for once, as well as probably trying to scare off those harming him. punishments at home get more and more severe. his older sister eventually runs off with the SLA. harassment at school is driving him closer and closer to making some horrible decisions. during this time, his mental health takes a drastic dip; sure, maybe he was a little overcautious of things before, but now it was getting to the point where he was obsessed and paranoid about practically everything; his mother, god, people outside... something had to change. he finally snaps and decides that if he doesn't get the hell out of where he is now, he'll get out of it in death later. his friends help him hotwire a car and he tries to use it as his ticket out, but due to inexperience, he ends up hitting and killing a man. he's brought to court but, like always, nobody gives a shit. once the case is over, he steps back and looks at himself. he's becoming something horrible, both literally and metaphorically, and if he doesn't do something about it soon, what else could happen to him?

he picks himself up, gets a job, moves out, buys a sweet car, and eventually meets a girl, cali, who he falls in love with and starts to date. things are great for a while... but the two decide it could be even better. after much saving, johnny and cali buy an apartment in and move to cool city! soon they become interested in the nightlife and start going to local shows, discovering a small artist down on his luck and quickly becoming his biggest fans. this artist was none other than so-lo, and the three wound up hitting it off fairly quickly. johnny winds up forming a large part of his social circle through meeting people at so-lo's (and others') shows, though unfortunately for him he winds up associated with the wrong crowd. these new "friends" he makes really see him as nothing more than a tool to use... he eventually drops them, though not before making some very questionable decisions, such as getting a lobotomy to fix his very messed up brain (it did not work). he gradually meets the rest of the boingoverse and they end up becoming his new social circle, so yes, he eventually finds happiness. and a sugar daddy. he gets with the elevator man.

info:

despite his messy and monstrous past, johnny's a surprisingly sweet guy- he always has been. he's kind to everyone and tries to be helpful. kind of a doormat and tends to try and brush off things that bother him

has a bit of a staring problem, as well as difficulty in navigating most social situations. he's always been a very awkward and socially stunted guy

part french on his mom's side. speaks the language a bit, though he hasn’t used it in a while

his teenage monsterism, at one point, had spread over half of his body; it now only affects his right hand and lower forearm. scarring remains where in the affected areas. his teeth and ears were also permanently changed as side effects

his orange glow is “natural”- it’s a tan, though really almost a burn. he spends way too much time outside. of average build, though surprisingly toned; his outdoor activities, like hiking and such, keep him fit

prone to emotional outbursts and fits of sorts. they were more common in his younger years, but still happen from time to time

in his past he’d describe himself as mean, rude, paranoid, an outcast, having extremely shameful and downright self-destructive habits, and a pyromaniac... he’s still a lot of those things, but he’s gotten better

speaks politely but swears like a sailor. has loud and brash humor, with some of his jokes performed in an over-the-top manner. highly critical of the world around him, sometimes to a detrimental and very cynical degree

uses a cane, as he didn't walk away from that car crash unscathed. walks with a limp

special interests include boy scouts and bdsm, of all things... keeps quiet about the bdsm interest but often resorts to yammering on about boy scouts when he's nervous. though he's aged out of the program, he keeps/wears his old uniform for sentimental purposes and still engages in the hobbies he gained from it (knot tying, wood carving, documenting nature, hiking, camping, etc.)

played trumpet in high school concert band. picked up playing fiddle on a whim

relationships with the rest of the boingoverse:

danny (elfman): his dad. no, literally. danny is his dad. this is an alternate universe where instead of just being a military brat he was actually in the military. likes him a lot but wishes he was more present when it mattered

louise (from the song): his mom. suffice to say he doesn't like her

patty (you got your baby back/ballad of the caveman): his older sister! looks up to her a lot though in private he mourns the loss of who she was pre-SLA

california (more of an oc based off of california girls and a mystic knights poster): girlfriend who he loves to death

the hurcules and henderson families (forbidden zone): his neighbors growing up. was friends with the kids and even in the same scout troop as flash

satan (forbidden zone): beat him in a fiddle contest once and satan hasn't spoken yo him since

louis (oingo boingo): pet cat who he absolutely ADORES. i mean, johnny literally keeps a picture of him on him at all times... he has to like him somewhat...

yo-cat (nothing to fear): heavy dislike but who DOESN'T hate this guy

fred (good for your soul): admires him a lot for his confidence and muscles. hopes to be like him someday

so-lo (so-lo): HEAVY admiration, also kind of has a crush on him? sees him like a father figure as well. mixed but good feelings on him

b. dead (dead man's party): they don't talk much but johnny thinks he's pretty chill

the elevator man (boi-ngo): his sugar daddy. a little scared of him but, like, in a consensual power dynamic way where they're both super into it so whatever

b.e. alive (boingo alive): they definitely yap about guns and cars and the wild west together

peter (dark at the end of the tunnel): kind of like his little brother but he's a little weirded out by him because he's seven yet acts YEARS more mature than he does. plays toys with him sometimes

mary (boingo): like a mom to him, though he has some trouble opening up to her

farewell (farewell): he makes johnny sad to he tends to avoid him

[whiskeysmulti]

Mundane AU

Fandom: KHR Word Count: 1,005 Prompt: Mundane AU Characters: Tsuna, Haru, Yamamoto Event Host: @flufftober

School always sucks when you're fourteen. Your teachers are monsters, half the school always hates you, gym class is horrible even when you're athletic, no one takes you seriously but no one shows you any pity anymore and you can't do anything about it either because you're not a kid but not an adult yet. It's even harder when you're the outcast of the school, the loser who can't get the girl, the guy who's picked last in gym class because your athletics suck and you can't even pass one of the easiest classes. A loser is a loser and will always be a loser and that was exactly what Tsuna was.

Every day he'd come home and every day his mother would ask the same thing. "How was school, Tsu-kun?" And every day, Tsuna would lie and say it was fine. And after spending his whole life being a loser, Tsuna finally made friends in a baseball player and the bad boy of the school. But even then, he was still the loser who couldn't get the girl, the guy who was picked last in gym class, and the kid who got the lowest scores in everything. No good Tsuna really lived up to the no good name.

Of course he'd end up with a crush on the most popular girl in school, but as always Tsuna was too afraid to talk to her because he knew deep down he was a loser. And then one day it happened. A girl actually talked to him for the first time. It was a girl from another school and sadly the only reason she was speaking to him was because she felt pity on him because once again no good Tsuna was the one left out when everyone else made weekend plans.

Haru had been walking home when she ran into Tsuna, Yamamoto and Gokudera. Of course Yamamoto couldn't hang out because he had baseball practice as always. Being the nerd he was, Gokudera's weekend was occupied with his studies. And that left poor Tsuna with nothing to do and no one to hang out with. Haru felt bad. "Why don't we hang out then, Tsuna-san?" She asked.

Sweat ran down Tsuna's face. Did this girl actually like him? It wasn't like he'd have a chance with her anyway, so why not. Tsuna was desperate to find a friend of any kind no matter what it took. He spent most of his life alone and it was the most painful part of life for him. He could handle the name calling, he could handle getting beaten up, he could even handle failing all his classes, but not having a single friend in his life was the most painful part of being the loser, when Haru asked him to hang out, it was a blessing on his life that Tsuna had never thought the gods would ever bestow on him. He accepted the offer immediately, though deep down he was scared, he was worried it was too good to be true and tomorrow he'd find out she'd stood him up and it was all a stupid prank anyway.

But the next evening came, a Friday to kick off the weekend and sure enough as the bell rang for school to let out there was Haru outside the fence of Namimori Junior High, waiting patiently for Tsuna to arrive. "Ah, Haru-chan. I didn't think you'd be here when I got out of class?" Tsuna questioned, he thought she might have had longer hours being that she was very smart and attended one of the hardest all girl schools to get into.

"Ah, today was just testing, since Haru finished all her tests before lunch, I got out early." She beamed with pride. Tsuna never saw her so happy in all the time he'd known her. He wondered if she was just a nerd like Gokudera who got excited about their grades, or if maybe her parents were hard on her? He secretly hoped she was just another intelligent geek who enjoyed reading everything she could get her hands on like the certain delinquent he hung out with on a daily basis.

"Gokudera-kun!" Haru waved as she caught him smoking outside the school again.

Of course, Tsuna was and always would be a loser. Haru hadn't been there for him, she had her eyes on his best friend the whole time. Maybe he could go hide in a hole somewhere and no one would notice him until he could get over the embarrassment he felt in thinking for even a second that he would have a chance with a girl as cool as Haru.

"Sawada!" And to make matters worse, there was the boxing club captain once again trying to recruit him when Tsuna couldn't throw a punch to save his life. At least someone had noticed him this time?

"Oi, Herbivore." Make that two people. The day couldn't get worse. Now the Namimori prefect was after him, for God only knows what this time. Tsuna was and always would be a loser, he didn't need anyone to tell him that. But he still had at least one friend who was there for him.

"Yo! Tsuna! You busy after school?" Yamamoto walked over.

"Don't you have baseball practice?" Tsuna asked. Yamamoto was an athlete and the heartthrob of the school. He still didn't understand what the guy saw in him, but he was thankful he had seen something at all.

Yamamoto shook his head and flashed his characteristic grin that Tsuna swore was what made half the girls in the school swoon after him, the other half were often busy crowding Gokudera. "No. Our practice was cancelled. We have conditioning next week though."

"Sure, we can hang out." Tsuna smiled and nodded. Maybe it wouldn't suck so bad to be the loser of the school if it meant he still had a friend in Yamamoto because having at least one friend in your life was still better than nothing.

[wild-at-mind]

Was talking to my partner last night about that thing my mum used to very well meaningingly do...she knew I had a lot of trouble making friends so whenever she heard about another kid about my age who was having trouble making friends she would try and arrange for us to hang out. I feel like the problem with this strategy is that kids who have trouble making friends are usually very, very awkward, and do not possess to social skills to alleviate the awkwardness of someone else. So you end up with two kids who are both being awkward at the same time and neither is able to help the other feel less awkward. I joked to my partner that you would have to introduce the kid who was not good at making friends to kid who was really amazing at making friends, which obviously in real life is not very workable (the concept of ‘pity friends’ is a not great thing for anyone). My mum is very kind and caring, and I know it must be hard for any caring parent to see your child fail socially over and over and be horribly upset about it. She did what she could. But kids in this position are more likely to stay in any friendships they do make even if those friendships are actually very unhealthy and are harming them. That’s what happened to me, she introduced me to someone when I was 12 who turned out to be very controlling and cut off my ability to make friends with anyone else. I will never know if without this person I might have formed actual friendship connections in my teens. They did a lot of harm to me and it’s really difficult to talk about that because they were my peer and also had been through some horrible things. I just clung on tighter because I saw how the world shat on my friend from a great height, like it does all kids who have experienced traumatic family breakdown. And yet in the end, my presence probably only made things worse. It doesnt do any good to harm yourself to try and save someone else, no matter how much you care about them. I really did care about him and I wanted to help and I couldn’t because the problems were vast and societal. I broke contact with him finally when we were adults, I assume this affected my mental health very much but I don’t know because I have no context for what my adolescent development would have been without him in my life. He used to say that needing people was weak, and so I believed it. (He obviously needed me at more than a few times but that’s neither here nor there.) But in reality, we all need people. We need friends and social connections that give us reciprocity and love. I do have friends now but sometimes I feel like I form connections too strong with some people who aren’t reciprocating. I may have mentioned this on here before but we talk about unrequited romantic feelings but not about onesidedness in platonic feelings, and I wish we did. When I’m in low times there are certain friendships that I mourn (absolutely not the one described above fyi!!) even if it’s been years, or I’m still in them and the other person thinks it’s fine but I feel so lonely for more closeness with them. I’m sure someone would helpfully tell me this is all normal but when you talk to people about this stuff, you can tell they don’t feel anything even slightly similar and are bemused. I don’t know what the solution is except to go on about it in writing so that’s what I do. And I don’t know how to help kids make stronger friendships or help a kid with no self esteem choose between being friendless but sticking up for themselves, or being in a damaging and harmful friendship.

[sleepy-shutin]

oh by the way, "bootlicker" is and has been a political term for a lot longer and is known as a political term far more widely than it is a sexual one. calling someone a cuck, as well, is not inherently sexual either, as seemingly sexual words such as "motherfucker", "asshole" and "pussy" can be and have often been used as mere insults rather than in the original contexts. this is because context of the word matters, and because of that, a word like "dick" doesn't have one true definition, and can both mean "slang for male/AMAB genitalia" AND "someone who is being rude".

it's really cool, how words have different meanings depending on the contexts, and how one word can have more than one definition depending on what context it's in. this is basic linguistics.

another thing that's really cool is that it's actually disturbingly creepy for an adult at least 10 years older than a 17 year old they don't know to say "you're turning me on" out of left field in a completely unrelated argument, double down on it, use the age of consent laws where they live while lacking an understanding of differing ones in the 17 year old's, and for immature adults to spin this around back on the 17 year old, who is part of a demographic that more often than not has experienced some form of sexual abuse, and blame them for the inappropriate interaction. it's also inappropriate for another adult to come in and say that this is fine, actually, that this minor was totally sexually harassing someone else by using a political phrase, and that because they were raped by a minor at some point, that justifies them saying that "terrible things should happen to minors that do this" otherwise we're allowing rapists to be born, and that, it's good actually, to let horrible things happen to minors that use political terms against adults, because that's definitely sexual harassment, and not something that can very well eventually end up being used against minors to defend sexually harassing, assaulting and abusing kids, because they "asked for it" by "sexually harassing" an adult.

the coolest thing about this entire situation is these actual grown ass adults have doubled down so hard on defending an inherently predatory and inappropriate interaction, blaming the minor and saying that the adult in question can't have done something inappropriate because they're asexual, as if that means anything irt how asexual people experience attraction and sex drive--speaking as someone who is on the ace spectrum.

what more than likely happened here is that queer-adhd made an inappropriate comment that they didn't think about before making it to a minor they don't know, and then instead of apologizing and admitting fault like a mature adult would, he instead doubled down and got all of his friends to defend him and his shitty joke, blaming the minor for "sexually harassing" them all for using a widely known political term and a widely known contextual insult. i hope they stretched before they started reaching like that, otherwise they're all gonna pull some muscles.

what these people refused to do was disengage. they actively chose to make the situation worse, ignored their responsibility as adults to not be predatory around minors they don't know in favor of making a creepy joke/comment, once again, towards a minor who is part of a group that has largely been sexually abused more often than not, and then blaming the minor for the interaction. they refused to disengage. they are the ones harassing a minor for a very nonsensical reason and are refusing to be mature about it. as adults, they have the responsibility to stop interacting with a minor if the conversation turns inappropriate, and if they felt it became inappropriate because the minor was using an alleged "sexual term", then they should end the interaction or say that it is inappropriate, and move on. but they chose to ignore that responsibility and they chose to ignore the fact that words have different meanings based on context.

in short; these people are immature cunts. is the conversation sexual now? am i turning you on? lol.

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today. 

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.” 

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?” 

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him. 

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.” 

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice. 

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit. 

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat. 

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up. 

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

^

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you 

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back. 

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face. 

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable. 

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time. 

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team. 

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike.  “HALEY NOW!” 

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!” 

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them. 

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black. 

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop. 

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them. 

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against. 

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym. 

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.” 

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle? 

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you? 

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up. 

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner. 

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you. 

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.” 

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

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[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 1: Inc*st🧡

Really starting off strong huh lol anyway, this is very background heavy (I don’t know what happened but now I’m obsessed) and I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: inc*st, nff, father/son (but they don’t know), Peter is 18 and an intern at SI, brief substance ab*se mention (and impaired s*x, not between starker)

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

There was always room for accident, though.

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

He never had sex without multiple levels of protection. And he was famous enough that people rarely tried to argue against it. Sleeping with him at all fulfilled what they wanted.

So things were perfectly fine. He never had an issue, he was always completely safe with his partners.

Except for this one night.

He was in a self-destructive episode, in the downward spiral before he hit rock bottom. Mixed every possible substance that shouldn’t have been mixed, impairing him until he wasn’t sure which way was up.

And he had a woman spiraling right along with him.

Her name was…Mary. Mary something. She was a scientist in some field, but he didn’t catch anything else. Or he just didn’t remember it. It didn’t matter anyways, they were both just wanting to ignore what was around them. What their lives had served them.

And maybe he forgot to ask if she was on birth control when he sloppily kissed over her neck.

Maybe he fumbled with the condom to the point where she whispered, “We’ll be fine,” and he believed her.

How it happened didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it did.

Tony didn’t even know.

He didn’t ask for her number the next morning, he just hid out in the bathroom, emptying his stomach of its entire contents while he waited for her to leave.

She was gone by the time he could see straight.

Thank god.

He never heard from her again.

Mary Parker and her husband died six years later and he never knew.

He didn’t know that they had a son. Or she did, at least. There was no way for him to know that the son had been passed along to his aunt and uncle when no other relative was found.

He never knew that Mary Parker had a son. And that her husband wasn’t the one who got her pregnant.

She never crossed his mind again after she left him.

***

Enter Peter.

Tony had new interns come in every year, typically college students that needed the credits, but sometimes someone special would come along.

Peter was a high school senior, but he was one of the smartest people that Tony had ever come across.

Tony had a job lined up for him as soon as he graduated if he wanted it. Not that he’d told him that yet.

He swore that he wasn’t a stalker. He had to prove to Pepper that he wasn’t giving too much attention to one intern over another, and for him that meant that he needed to stay away from Peter personally.

No matter how tempting it was. There had to be a family history of such genius, right? That kind of brains didn’t just occur at random.

But he didn’t look into him at all. He wouldn’t even let himself google search his name.

Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

Although maybe he could just do it the old fashioned way. Minimal favoritism involved.

He spent months working with Peter. They became friends. Close friends.

It got to the point where Tony couldn’t help the smile he had when he looked into those warm brown eyes.

He felt it happen, it was official. Peter Parker had his heart.

It didn’t matter how wrong it was, he couldn’t help it. The young man had completely gotten hold of him.

And he hoped that it was mutual.

***

“Peter, can you stay back for a second?” Tony was still standing at the lab table, eyes scanning over the coding that they’d put in place during the session.

Like that was actually what was on his mind.

The young man looked up with wide eyes. Very deer-in-headlights. But it was so cute on him.

“Y-yeah! I actually needed to tell you something, so yes, I can definitely do that.”

Peter sounded a bit nervous which made Tony pause. Maybe his confession could wait a while. Maybe forever. Whatever was on Peter’s mind was infinitely more important to him.

“Okay, you first. I can follow up.” Tony tucked his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the table.

His cheeks burned. “No- no, you can go first. Don’t worry.”

The older man let out a breath. “Peter, you say what you need to. I can wait.”

Peter looked at him, face flushed. He hadn’t really meant to blurt out that he had something to say. He’d thought about it, sure. But he didn’t know-

His brain couldn’t keep up with his body and suddenly he was leaning up, pressing his lips to Tony’s.

The older man froze. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all. But then he relaxed into it, kissing back.

Who knew that they both had the same confession?

But it wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Tony pulled away once he finally got control of his senses again, raking a hand through his hair. “Pete, I’m supposed to be the adult here. I can’t be a good role model if I’m….”

When was he ever a good role model?

“Let me start again. I’m an adult. Kid, I’m old. Old enough to be your dad. And you’re…how old?”

“I turned eighteen in august,” he supplied helpfully.

At least it was legal.

“Eighteen. That’s a thirty year age difference.” Jesus, he was creepy. Falling for an eighteen year old. He couldn’t even buy alcohol for himself.

Peter blinked up at him. “So? I like you, Mr. Stark. I don’t care how old you are.”

Tony sighed softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And it’s Tony. If this is what’s happening, call me Tony.”

Even though it had been his plan to confess his feelings anyway, the guilt was still eating at him. He had fallen for a teenager who was just barely legal.

“What is happening, Mr.- Tony?”

Tony leaned in for another kiss, sighing softly. “What do you want to happen, kid?”

“Oh. Well, um, not to be blunt, but- I just- I mean- I really want you.”

He was cute. Innocent. But Tony could tell that what he meant was a bit less innocent.

“Are you sure? You realize this is a bad idea on...a lot of levels, right?”

Peter huffed softly, looking up at him with a stubborn expression. “I don’t care. We can be sneaky.”

Tony snorted. ‘Sneaky’ wasn’t really how he’d describe it, but he had to remind himself that his terms were a lot different than Peter’s. Different generations and all that.

He was horrible.

“Okay, kid. We can take this upstairs-” where there was no one to walk in on them. “-and talk about what exactly you’re thinking.”

“How about we don’t talk about it and we just...do?” Peter gave him a shy, devious smile.

“Uh huh. We’ll see.”

Tony grabbed his wrist gently, glancing in the hallway to make sure that no one was coming before he dragged him to the elevator.

Before he could get another word out, Peter’s lips were on his again. And this time there was more heat behind it.

He kissed back, eyes slipping shut just as the elevator doors did. Their lips pushed together insistently and he felt Peter’s tongue clumsily swiping over his lip.

He suppressed a laugh and parted his lips, allowing Peter to lead.

It was all so curious and clumsy that he wondered just how many times Peter had ever kissed anyone. If any. But that was a question for later.

The elevator dinged softly when they reached the penthouse and only then did they pull away from each other.

Tony led Peter out, instantly heading for his bedroom. Bad idea or no, he’d imagined such a scenario so many times. He didn’t want to waste any time.

“Tony?” Peter spoke up, eyes on the bed. “I know this is really straightforward, but I’m glad you, like, don’t hate me. I’ve thought about this...a lot.”

“You and me both,” the older man murmured. “Something I feel like we should cover before anything else...how far are you wanting to go?”

Peter chewed his lip. “Not to rush things, but I really really want to go all the way.”

“Well, not to rush things, but I want that too.” Tony gave him a small grin. “Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?”

The confused look that he got made him feel guilty again. Just how much had Peter ever done with anyone else?

“Top or bottom, honey. Receiving or giving, pitching or catching, whatever you want to say. What do you want to do?”

Peter blushed, deciding to distract from the question at hand by pulling his shirt off.

It worked. Tony’s attention was instantly elsewhere, his eyes focused on his trim waist but hard muscle.

“Jesus, kid. That’s...wow.” If he wasn’t hard before, he was definitely getting there from seeing just what his innocent little intern was hiding under loose clothing.

“Like it?” The young man grinned to himself, one hand sensually sliding from the v of his hips up to his chest.

Perfect abs. Round, firm pecs. Jesus, Tony was entranced.

But he remembered what he’d asked. “Peter, top or bottom. What’s your preference?”

“I- I don’t...know.”

There it was.

Tony looked at him, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip quickly. “You’re a virgin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it for sure. It wasn’t surprising.

Peter got defensive. “I’ve done some stuff.”

“Uh huh. What ‘stuff’?”

He refused to look at Tony, his eyes on his hands as he played with the button on his jeans. “I’ve given oral. Guys and girls. And I’ve gotten, like, a couple handjobs and blowjobs.”

Tony closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be your first. This- Peter, this is such a bad idea. You should be with someone your own age.”

Peter made an indignant sound, popping the button on his jeans and unzipping them out of protest. “I don’t want someone my own age. I want you.”

He said it with such finality.

Tony stepped closer to the bed, his hands cupping Peter’s face gently. “You promise me you won’t regret this?”

“There’s nothing that could make me regret this.” Peter unbuckled Tony’s belt, slowly pulling it out of the loops before dropping it to the floor.

Tony nodded slowly, not fighting when Peter pushed his slacks down. It was really happening.

“Holy shit-” Peter’s eyes were wide. His eyes were fixed on the way that Tony’s dick was straining at the front of his tight boxers. There was a nervous look in his eyes.

“Good or bad?” Tony teased a little.

“Good. Good, oh man.” Peter reached down and squeezed himself hard. “So big….”

That was nice to hear. “You think so? Do you think you could take it, sweetheart?”

Peter’s fingers ghosted over the length slowly, making it twitch in its confines. “I...I want to try.”

Tony nodded. “We’ll make it fit. Let’s finish getting you undressed.” He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor before getting onto the bed next to Peter.

He finished pulling the young man’s zipper down and helped him shimmy out of his jeans. Peter’s thighs were gorgeous, Tony was nearly drooling over them. But he couldn’t get distracted.

“May I?” He met the young man’s eyes, his fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers.

Peter nodded, breathing hard as he laid back more.

Tony slowly pulled the piece of clothing down, biting his lip when he watched Peter’s cock drop against his hip once it was no longer covered. “So hard for me, honey. Look at that.”

The younger man blushed darker. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Tony….”

“God, me too. Me too, kid.” He pushed his own boxers off, unable to keep himself from wrapping one hand around himself and stroking slowly.

Peter watched him with wide eyes. “Okay. I want you inside me. Now.” He kicked his boxers away, grinning a little.

Tony laughed softly at his eagerness. “We have to get you ready first. Hold on, let me show you….”

Turns out that Peter was incredibly responsive to everything and by the time he was open enough for further activities Tony had already worked him through an orgasm.

If Peter was that responsive to just his fingers, he couldn’t wait to get his cock in him. And the young man was still raring to go.

Tony grabbed a condom - habit, it wasn’t like they were preventing anything - but Peter stopped him.

“Why can't we just do it…without?” He asked shyly.

“I mean…we can. But you’ll have to clean up and that can be annoying.”

“I want…I want to feel you. Is that okay?” Peter hid his face in his hands, embarrassed by the admission.

Tony nodded, biting back a smile. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He set the foil square down on the nightstand before moving back to the young man.

He got between his legs, hands sliding over the strong thighs he was met with. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, kid. I hope you know that.”

Peter smiled up at him, spreading his legs further. “Thank you, Tony….” He leaned back more, laying his head down. “Now hurry up,” he joked.

Grabbing the lube and slicking himself up, the older man shook his head. “Impatient,” Tony chided, laughing softly. But he was already moving to position his cock at the man’s hole, the tip brushing over him.

They both moaned softly, laughing a little at how in sync they were.

“Fuck me, Tony…please?”

The older man nodded, slowly pushing past the tight muscle with a groan. Even though he’d prepped him, Peter was still tight. Just perfectly so.

Peter was tightly gripping the sheets, popping a couple threads even, with the first movements.

It seemed like his effort was in vain, but he really wanted to try to last.

Tony bottomed out, hips pressed flush against Peter’s ass.

The younger man was whining low in his throat at the feeling. His cock twitched between them. He knew that if he was touched at all before he could calm down a little, everything would be over way before he wanted it to be.

“Need me to stay still?” Tony asked. He could tell that Peter was struggling.

He nodded quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes. Fuck.”

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry, we can take this at whatever pace you want.”

Peter nodded, trying to get a hold on how he was feeling.

It took him a couple minutes, but eventually he signaled Tony that he was okay. And he could start moving.

So he started slow, but Tony started thrusting when he was given the okay.

Peter moaned, mouth falling open around his noises.

He tightened around Tony’s cock, squeezing down with every movement. Then he cried out when a particularly deep thrust hit something that made him see stars.

“What was that?” Peter gasped, hips rocking up wildly.

Tony groaned, laughing a little through it. “I’m going to, fuck, I’m going to assume that was your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it? I should have showed that to you when I was fingering you.”

“Do it again!”

The older man snorted, aiming for the same spot again as he picked up his pace. He held one of Peter’s legs, lifting it just enough so that he could get at a deeper angle. “I can try.”

From the increasingly louder noises he received, he assumed he succeeded.

He was so lost in the feeling of Peter that he missed how close to the edge his partner was getting. All that registered was how incredible (borderline painful) it felt when the younger man squeezed around him like that.

Then Peter was crying out louder and thrusting up as he spilled onto his stomach.

Tony swore under his breath. “God, Peter.” He watched him, subconsciously speeding up as he chased his own high.

“Tony!” Peter moaned, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. It was the best orgasm he’d ever experienced, alone or otherwise.

But he slowly opened his eyes, wanting to watch Tony cum.

“I’m close too,” the older man moaned, speeding up again.

Peter moaned louder, feeling himself being pushed up the bed with the quicker pace. “Cum, Tony, please, want you to fill me up.”

He wasn’t so sure about dirty talk, but it could only be but so bad because Tony went still moments later. Peter felt the cock inside him pulse briefly before there was a smooth warmth spreading.

The thing itself felt odd, but thinking about what was happening almost made him cum again.

Actually-

His hand flew to his own dick and he quickly jerked himself off before he was cumming for a third time. It wasn’t nearly as good as the other two, but it was still incredible. Especially thinking about how good Tony still felt inside of him.

He opened his eyes when he heard Tony chuckling. “What?”

“You’re insatiable. And I’m amazed that you can just go again that fast.” The older man closed his eyes again, catching his breath.

He was almost in shock that it had actually happened. He had sex with Peter. After thinking about it for months, dreaming about it, it happened.

He slowly pulled out, laying next to the young man. He knew they were both messes, covered in sweat and cum and lube, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hold Peter close before they had to go back to real life.

Tony gently wrapped his arms around him, just gathering him close while he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple.

He found out quickly that Peter’s dazed, relaxed post-sex state would only last for so long.

It was only minutes before the man was talking, whispering about anything and everything. And Tony happily listened.

He hummed softly, holding the younger man close to his chest. One hand gently carded through Peter’s soft curls as they talked quietly.

“My mom met you one time,” Peter murmured. “Before I was born. But she would never tell me about it. Just told me that it happened.”

Tony snorted softly. “Yeah, well, about when would that have been? I had a reputation for a reason.” But the confession started pulling at a memory. It couldn’t quite come to light, though.

“Ew.” The young man grinned at him. “But I guess you’re right. I don’t know, she was kinda weird about a lot of stuff. Not just that.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter sighed softly and Tony frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But Peter started answering anyway.

“I don’t know who my actual dad is. She never told me. I vaguely remember her telling me that Richard was the only dad I needed, but nothing else.”

“You would have been so young,” Tony whispered. “Maybe she just figured it could be a conversation for another time.”

“But she wouldn’t tell anyone else. My aunt and uncle knew that Richard wasn’t actually my dad, but they were never told who was. And I guess it just…died with her.”

The older man nodded. “You could always do a paternity test, right?” Why was guilt pooling in his stomach?

Peter shrugged. “That’s assuming that my dad has done one too that we could match. And sometimes….” He trailed off.

“Sometimes what?” Tony kissed him gently, trying to soothe him.

“Sometimes I’m not sure that I want to know,” he confessed.

It made sense. But something was still trying to pull at Tony’s memory. Forming an idea slowly.

Although he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answers.

But he couldn’t just leave a question unasked. No matter how dark the potential answer.

“Peter…when did you say that your mom met me?”

The young man snuggled into him more, shaking his head. “I didn’t. I think it was…the year before I was born or so. Why? Do you remember?”

Tony tried to mentally do the numbers. He’d spent most of that year in a fog, but that had been the theme of that era in his life. But maybe…

“Are you okay?”

The older man closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to remember.

Parker. Had he been with a Parker? He couldn’t remember the occasion at all.

Maybe that was for the best.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay, was just trying to see if I remembered her. I’m sorry.”

Peter leaned up to kiss him gently, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal, really. Sometimes I just wonder about that stuff.”

Tony tried to assure himself that it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it was best to not have all the answers.

He had what he wanted. That was all that mattered.

[startanewdream]

James and/or Sirius laughing at Harry for growing (or trying to) grow a beard 🧔

That’s it

That’s my comment

Ahhh, it's midnight for me I work early tomorrow but I just *had* to write something along these lines!

Set during winter break at Year 6 (or my fave pining Harry time). Warning for some slang and also that I edited on the phone

________

“Fuck. No, no, it can’t be… fuck!”

The first slang would have made Sirius stop on his way down the hall, but the tone of desolation that follows it, added by the most hopelessness he has ever heard in Harry's voice, makes him open the door to his godson’s bedroom without waiting for an answer.

(Always risky when it comes to teenagers, but it seems to be an emergency)

The first thing he notices is the rotten smell, then the smoke coming out of a cauldron with the fire beneath still lit; sparkles are coming out of Harry’s wand, which he holds high (underage magic? That he won’t tell), but then Sirius’ gaze falls on Harry’s face and he ignores anything else.

Because on Harry’s face there is something so horrendous that Sirius won’t dare to call it a beard. It’s hair.

Harry’s chin spots the same hair as in his head. It’s a dark messy beard that makes him look as if his hair grew all around his mouth.

“What the hell?”

“Don’t laugh!” Harry tells him immediately, a little bit threatening, but Sirius is truly too shocked to even break a smile. This thing is too ghastly for even him to crack a joke about it. “I… I messed up, okay?”

“Kid, that’s an overstatement,” Sirius says, getting closer to his godson slowly. He touches his beard. “How did you get hair on your chin? That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Ugh.” Harry throws a guilty look to the cauldron on the floor. “It’s Grandpa Monty’s fault.”

“Unless his ghost came back to screw your face, it seems as if you did this to yourself, kid.”

“No, I… Look!” He picks a scroll, waving it in front of Sirius’ nose. “I found his old notes in the attic. Five-Second Eazybeard! I swear I brewed the potion exactly as he wrote.”

Sirius eyes the smelly potion.

“Are you sure it was your granddad’s notes? This doesn’t seem like Monty's style at all.”

“Well… I thought so. He was the potioneer in the family, right? And he invented Sleekeazy!”

“And then he didn’t launch anything else,” Sirius reminds him, looking at the potion instructions.

“Because he was rich enough and didn’t need more money?”

Sirius laughs. “Nah, Monty was curious enough to keep inventing. This was probably an attempt that didn’t work.” Sirius shakes his head, smirking. “Look, I am not trying to pull a Lily here, but trying untested potions? That’s a bad idea, Harry.”

"I haven't had problems so far," Harry mumbles to himself. As Sirius is about to ask him what he means by that, Harry grabs his hand suddenly. "I learned the lesson, ok? Now you gotta help me!"

Sirius lifts an eyebrow. "The only thing that would help you is a scissor."

"I've tried! The bathroom is full of this thing, but it just grew back! I've tried to cut it magically, and it's all the same. You are the adult here, do something!"

"What do you want me to do? I can't do an antidote just looking at the ingredient list! You need Lily, just call her—"

"I…" the part of Harry's face that is not covered by hair flushes. "I can't. She is at the Burrow now, helping Mrs Weasley with the New Year's party."

"Then let's go, I am sure it will be easy for her—"

"No!" Harry looks in panic now, his eyes widened. "She cannot know what… what happened."

"Lily will know as soon as—"

"Not… not Mum, it's… look, that's fine. Mum will be back tomorrow, I will just spend the New Year hiding in my room pretending I don't exist."

"Harry… there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You know, growing hair body is perfectly normal at your age—"

"Ugh, stop teasing me."

"I wish I could, but you look truly horrible." Sirius winks at him, sitting on Harry's bed. "What prompted you to do this?"

Harry's flush intensifies.

"I was trying to grow a beard."

"Oh, really?"

"It's… it's stupid, okay? But Ginny was… I mean, I heard some girls saying that they enjoyed guys with a beard and I can only grow that stupid stubble and—argh—I just thought I could give it a try but now I have hair growing all around my head and—"

"You are babbling, kid, I got it."

"No, you don't." Harry runs his hand through his hair, looking very much like James when he is most nervous. "You get to grow a beard when you want it. You get this whole shining hair. You get women to sigh for you and I… I am just this stupid teenager who can't even have a full beard."

Sirius blinks. "You are worrying way too much, Harry. And, well, if you want to be assured, you are nice—girls have taken a fancy to you, haven't they?"

"That's just the Chosen One thing, it's not really… me."

Sirius fights back a smile. Harry seems really desolate.

"Look, you've grown well. You are still growing. I am sure people notice you. You have your mother's gorgeous eyes and you do look like James—if there is any comfort in this, I remind you that James got Lily to feel attracted to him, so you can't be that bad." Harry frowns, and Sirius isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to think of their parents being attracted to each other or if because he doesn't trust Lily's opinion on this matter. "I am sure Ginny thinks you are attractive, beard or no beard."

Harry jumps.

"Who said anything—"

"Oh, are we still pretending you don't fancy her?"

Harry looks away. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Yeah, sure. So you don't mind going to the Burrow now and showing up like this?"

"Of course I do! I mean… Ron would tease me."

"Ron."

"And the twins. I mean, look at this!"

"Yeah, I would be upset if they didn't. So many joke opportunities. You are hairy, Harry."

Harry puts his hands in front of his face. Sirius refrains from telling him this doesn't hide his beard at all.

"So… what do I do now?"

"We truly need Lily's help on this… we need to go to the Burrow."

"I can't—"

"Don't worry." Sirius breathes heavily. "Your godfather won't leave you alone on this."

_________

"It was an accident, Lily," Sirius tells her, his hand playing with the hair over his chin. His new grown hair beard reaches his chest and Sirius is almost finishing a braid by now. "I was trying some old potion, and then Harry was close and it just splashed in both of us."

Lily lifts her eyebrows, her eyes moving from Sirius to Harry and then back.

"An accident?" she repeats, incredulous.

"I am so sorry," he says, the portrait of innocence. "Could you help us with an antidote? And before you say anything, I know I shouldn't have tested an unknown potion. But do this for Harry, not for me. Poor kid doesn't deserve to spend the night hiding. It's a New Year's party after all!"

Lily shakes her head, amused.

"Fine, because you asked so eloquently. I will grab my potion kit, a hair inhibitor should be enough."

"You truly are the best, Lily," Sirius tells her, beaming.

Harry waits until his mother is out of the room to let out a relieved breath.

"Thanks so much, Sirius," he says.

Sirius nods, still messing with the hair on his chin. It's so weird and it looks as ghastly in him as it does on Harry.

He doesn't regret applying that potion to his face. His sacrifice worked just as he planned to: with two people having hair growing out of their chins, the attention was divided and with Sirius taking the blame, people felt sorry enough for Harry to not mock him much.

"Hey," they turn around to see Ginny coming closer, holding a tray with some sandwiches for them. "Mum thought you would be hungry while hiding here."

"Thanks," Sirius says, because Harry seems too busy pretending to look outside the window, anything so he can try to avoid Ginny looking at his beard.

Ginny nods at Sirius, but she approaches Harry anyway.

"Your mum is already working on the antidote, don't worry," she tells him gently. "Look, it's not as bad as that time Percy tried to grow a moustache, remember?"

Harry chuckles. "You are so lying."

"I would never," she assures him, voice light. "Look at me."

Harry turns to her almost as if he can't control it. His eyes soften as he gazes upon her, and Sirius is suddenly reminded of how Lily always looks when she sees James.

Ginny raises her hand slowly, giving Harry plenty of time to back away, but he just stays quiet as she touches his beard, her fingers running through it. Sirius suspects Harry isn't even breathing anymore.

"It's soft," she tells Harry and for a moment they just stare at each other. Sirius decides that he is really witnessing a moment that he doesn't want to, but his attempt to quietly leave the room only alerts them to his presence. Ginny's hand falls back as if she got electrocuted. "Anyway, you look better without it."

Harry grimaces. "I guess that stupid stubble is better than this."

"Stupid stubble?" Ginny blinks, evidently surprised. "It's not stupid, I… I mean, girls love it on you."

"They do?"

"Yeah, well, just thinking about your stubble brushing my skin—I mean, their skin, as in other girls' shoulders, or holding your face while… never mind, I just… I just heard it, that's all. You are drawing a lot of attention."

"I know, all this Chosen One stupid thing—"

"It's not it... you are really oblivious to your charm, Harry."

"You think I am charming?" Harry asks, longing evident in his voice now.

"I…" Ginny hesitates, turning away as if she doesn't want to answer this while looking at Harry, and her eyes meet Sirius. He smirks at her, knowing perfectly well her answer. Ginny's face reddens even as her jaw sets in a protective instance. "Yeah, with the stubble. Everyone knows it. It's common knowledge. I… I have to go, I think I heard Mum calling me."

Sirius could point out that Molly didn't call her at all, but he opts for just letting Ginny go, his smirk more than enough to let her know she didn't fool him.

At the other corner of the room, Harry's face is spotting a huge grin, watching the door with a dreamy expression.

"She likes my stubble!" He declares happily. "Oh, I need to take off this stupid long beard now."

Sirius shakes his head at Harry, amused. At least Harry won't ever complain about his inability to grow a beard again.

[spockandawe]

Hello! While I know this point must have already been talked about a lot in the fandom but since I have only recently read tgcf, I don't know much. I came across threads on where people talked about Hua Cheng being obsessive and toxic, with his existence being centered around Xie Lian and hence not having a grounding personality and life of his own + the scene of Ten Thousand Gods Cave.

Since I have been reading your metas, I was curious about your thoughts on this? Thank you!

Sure thing! Apologies for the slow response, this whole thing with my back has been really disrupting everything I want to accomplish. Now, I think that Hua Cheng is obsessive in a way that could easily become toxic, but calling him obsessive+toxic relies on only a shallow reading of the character and limiting yourself to the point where he is at the very start of the story, ignoring all the character/relationship development that happens over the course of a very long book.

Now, when it comes to the flashback books? Hua Cheng can have a little obsession, as a treat. I’m not going to say that the way he feels back then is any kind of basis for a healthy adult relationship, but Hua Cheng is approximately ages 10-17 over the course of book 2, and isn’t much “older” after his death as the ghost fire and as Wuming in book 4. He’s not relating to Xie Lian in a way that’s going to lead to a relationship of equals at that point, but he’s also a kid who’s worshiping a god who saved his life at a young age, twice, and who comforted and reassured him when their kingdom’s guoshi told him that he was doomed to bring misfortune to everyone in his life. All of their interactions in book 2 are extremely good reasons for why Hua Cheng would idolize him and obsess over him in that way, and I’m not going to fault him for any of it.

Now, I would say that the end of book 4 illustrates how badly that kind of idolization can go better than anything set in the present day, but it’s telling that this is also the point where Xie Lian abruptly realizes how much he doesn’t want to be Like This, and hauls his life around. Even eight hundred years later, he’s more ashamed to speak of this part of his life than anything else. He’s way more willing to laugh at his own pain and suffering than he is to even mention a time where he was cold and controlling with someone who offered themself to him.

SO. In the present, Xie Lian has a very good reason to know that he does not want to take advantage of someone else’s offered devotion. It’s an old memory, but when we see how much he doesn’t want to talk about it, it’s clear that it made an impression. If the direction of this book was only up to Hua Cheng? He’s already made it abundantly clear that he’s willing to sacrifice his everything, including his sense of self, if Xie Lian asks, but Xie Lian has confirmed very strongly to himself that this is not what Xie Lian wants.

And Xie Lian is walking a very fine emotional line in a lot of ways that he himself isn’t even fully aware of, but the early development in the book has this really interesting balance in the dynamic between him and Hua Cheng. He’s happy to rely on Hua Cheng for advice and help, but he’s also completely willing to worry for him (when he jumps into the sinner’s pit) and to gently scold him (when he jumps into the sinner’s pit). Hua Cheng worries about what will happen if Xie Lian finds out who he really is, but Xie Lian pretty much confirms it to himself, and when Hua Cheng is finally anxious enough to ask about it, Xie Lian’s main reaction is ‘isn’t the important thing that I like you as a person?’

If Hua Cheng was left to his own devices, he’d obsess over Xie Lian in a way that let himself suborn his entire identity to whatever Xie Lian wants from him, but Xie Lian has been so horribly lonely for so long, and even before a relationship enters the picture, what Xie Lian wants is a friend. And Xie Lian, on his own, is determined not to let himself take advantage of a person the way he took advantage of Wuming. And no matter how much Hua Cheng wants to submit himself to Xie Lian, what’s more important to him is what Xie Lian wants. The meta that’s been doing good circulation that I bet you saw was about how Hua Cheng developed his own independent sense of self over the last eight hundred years, no matter what he’d originally wanted, but as he gets to know Xie Lian in the present, Xie Lian makes it clear that Xie Lian likes who he became. 

Hua Cheng does still definitely take the position that ‘whatever Xie Lian wants is more important than what I want’, and that could go badly in so many ways, but from the very beginning, Xie Lian is firmly, firmly expressing, ‘I like who you are and I want to be friends.’ Xie Lian doesn’t scold Hua Cheng for being a dick to Fu Yao and Nan Feng, or for breaking heavenly artifacts, even one that used to be one of his own treasured possessions. He scolds Hua Cheng because ‘you jumped down into that pit and I was afraid you would be hurt.’ He doesn’t try to sand off Hua Cheng’s sharp edges or change him, and isn’t willing to sit back and relax as Hua Cheng puts himself in harm’s way. He doesn’t give Hua Cheng room to make himself a less-than, and (probably unintentionally) positively reinforces Hua Cheng when he lets bits of his own true personality show through. One of the reasons I love this book so much is because that relationship could have so easily turned toxic and controlling, but the main pair like each other so much that they manage to pull through into a healthy, balanced relationship.

It’s not a perfect relationship, because perfect relationships are boring and unrealistic, and there’s no tension in a story if two characters are perfectly in step. But by the end of the story, this is a more perfect relationship than I’d ever expected to be invested in, because they’re so in sync, haha. 

I think the moments that show the ways it’s not obsessive in a toxic way best come through in the times when Hua Cheng has some sort of grudge against a person that Xie Lian genuinely cares for. It starts with the shitty teens in the Banyue arc, but even near the story end, Mei Nianqing is Xie Lian’s old beloved teacher, and is also the person who told Hua Cheng ‘wow! you’re destined to fuck over everyone who ever gets close to you’ when Hua Cheng was just a little kid. It’s clear that Xie Lian likes and respects him a lot, and Hua Cheng feels not at all compelled to play nice. He’s happy to continue being nasty as hell to Feng Xin and Mu Qing, who are Xie Lian’s next two closest friends. He’s not even willing to be nice to E’Ming even as 1) Xie Lian pampers it, and 2) E’Ming is literally a part of himself. 

And he doesn’t hide this at all. He’s willing to act in ways not at all aligned with Xie Lian’s own opinions, especially as time goes on and Xie Lian doesn’t correct him. He’s willing to act against Xie Lian’s wishes in order to protect him (taking back his spiritual energy in the black water arc, overexerting himself to the point of dissipation at the climax), and it becomes more clear as the story progresses that he’s a person who wants only the best for Xie Lian, but who exists independently from Xie Lian, and isn’t willing to completely defer to Xie Lian’s desires or to override Xie Lian’s desires for what he thinks is best. To me, this relationship is primarily defined by how much the two of them like each other, and especially early on, I could see it easily tipping in an unhealthy direction, but it feels like most of the later relationship development specifically exists to undermine that particular flavor of toxic dynamic, and what we end up with is a very sweet, very balanced relationship. Hua Cheng’s willingness to submit himself to what Xie Lian wants is overridden by Xie Lian’s desire that Hua Cheng be himself, because that’s the person who Xie Lian loves.

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 18.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3100+

Chapter Eighteen:

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Steve chuckled, bringing his mug to his lips as his sister walked in with a sleep ridden face. She gave him the silent bird before moving to the coffee pot. “I see your morning self hasn’t changed.”

“What are you still doing here? I thought you would have left for work by now?” Y/N asked with a tired voice as she walked to the fridge for creamer. 

He had ended up staying the night and sleeping in his old room that had been transferred into the guest bed. Him and his sister had been up late talking and catching up. 

“Eh, I’m going in a few hours later since I’ve been doing overtime recently,” Steve shrugged, leaning back and watching her sit across from him. She was wearing a giant T-shirt and some old pajama pants that she tiredly tried to straighten from their disheveled state. “What’s your excuse for not being ready for work?”

“I don’t have to be there until 9 today,” she answered with her eyes closed. 

There was a comfortable silence as the two sipped on their coffee and Steve read the newspaper. Looking over he saw her practically falling back asleep in her seat. 

“I guess I need to talk to Bucky soon…” He spoke up. Her eyes opened at that and she turned to him. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean now that I know the case, and now that I know you’re both happy, I don’t have a right to be a jackass anymore I guess,” he shrugged with a smirk. 

“I’m glad you came to terms that you were a jackass,” she chuckled, punching his arm playfully. “We’ve been waiting a few years on that one.”

“Hey, I can call myself a jackass, but you watch yourself,” he warned in a light manner. 

“Sure thing… Jackass,” she mumbled with a smile. Before he could start an argument, she diverted the conversation. “So, should I warn him, or-?”

“I don’t care. We have different shifts today, so I’ll see him tonight probably and talk to him.”

“Ok, then I’ll let you do the talking. I would warn him yourself though. He’s been a nervous wreck around this topic with you. Anytime he thinks about how we’ve hurt you, he gets upset and really anxious,” she explained more seriously. 

“I mean, I don’t blame him. This was a shitty kind of situation to go through, but mom was right. Neither side of the problem was handled well,” Steve sighed. “I’ll text him before.”

“Good,” Y/N nodded. “Want me to come?”

“No, I think we need to talk ourselves,” Steve sighed. “If you know what I mean.”

“I get it,” she nodded standing and grabbing her mug. “Well, I’m going to get ready for work. Mind if I come over tonight though? You know, when the coast is clear? Maybe we can all have a movie night like back in the day! Becca and Sam are invited too,” she pointed to him. 

“Sounds like a plan. You’re paying for pizza though. Since you have an adult job now, it’s only fair,” Steve said with raised eyebrows. 

“Hey, I-”

“You owe me,” he cut her off. 

She glared at him for using the given past situation as a way to get free food. 

“That’s low, big bro,” she deadpanned. 

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” he scoffed with a smile, going back to the paper in front of him. 

“Touche,” she nodded with a pursed lip. “At least text me when I can head over, so I don’t interrupt you guys' bromance session.”

“Shut up,” he groaned as she left the room. 

________

Once Y/N got to work, a few hours into her shift, she got a call from Bucky.

“Hey, B,” she smiled through the phone as she went through the loads of papers in her hands. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky replied just as sweetly. “Guess who texted me today?”

“Hmm, Barack Obama?” Y/N responded. “Wait, no! Michelle Obama.”

“Haha, very close, but no,” he chuckled. “You’re brother reached out.”

“Is that so?” Y/N faked surprise.

“I’m guessing you guys' conversation last night went well considering your chipper mood?” he questioned. “Or they went horribly wrong and you’re just a really good actress.”

“We all know I can’t act even if my life depended on it,” she laughed, changing the phone to her other ear as she wrote some notes on a paper. 

“It’s true. You’re a horrible liar,” Bucky confirmed.

“I’m not even going to argue it no matter how much I want to,” she shrugged. “But I would say things went well. I mean we may or may not have gotten into a wrestling match on the front lawn, and mom might as well have dragged us by the ears inside to have a civil conversation, but besides that…”

“Oh God, Y/N… What the hell happened?” 

She just knew he was pitching the bridge of his nose on the other end. 

“Nothing too crazy. It’s just sibling fighting,” she waved off. 

“At least tell me you gave him a chance. You didn’t beat his ass too much, hopefully. You know we’re trying to win him over, not push him further away, right?” Bucky had a smile in his voice, clearly just joking around. 

“You know? Kids’ gotten stronger since middle school,” she noted. 

“I would hope so. He fought in a war and chases bad guys for a living. Can’t have scrawny middle school Steve doing that kind of stuff. He’d get a nose bleed just looking at the wrong guy.”

The two laughed for a little reminiscing at little Steve before he bulked up in high school. But after some joking, Bucky brought the conversation back where he started. 

“But in all honesty, I shouldn’t be too worried about tonight?” he asked. The nerves in his voice were clear to Y/N. 

“No, Bumble Bee. We talked it out, screamed it out, and fought it out. And in doing so, we had a good conversation. Thank Sarah Rogers for keeping us on track and not letting us walk away until it was resolved,” she assured, putting his mind at rest. 

“Ok, good…” Bucky sighed on the other end. A moment of silence went by as if he was trying to process it. 

“Hey, I know you guys still need to talk, but I do want you to know that it’ll be all ok in the end. Don’t get too worked up about it,” Y/N said softly. “26 years of being best pals can’t be ruined by this little bump. You said it yourself.”

Bucky let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. It… It’s just, I hate that he found out how he did, and…” he paused. “It just kinda sucked seeing him that upset.”

“I get it,” Y/N nodded on her end. “But hey,” she added. “We’ll all be ok. Truly.”

“I trust you, doll,” he grinned. There was some distant talking on the phone and Bucky humming. “Hey, I have to go. Boss needs me for something. Call you later?” 

“For sure. Have a good day, and let me know if you need anything!” 

“Right back at you. Love you, sweetheart,” he slipped out the last part unconsciously. 

There was a moment of silence as the two were stunned. Neither had said the “L” word yet… At least not to each other…

“Uh,” Bucky stuttered out. “I-I-...”

“Buck-,” Y/N started in just as much shock. 

Another round of someone shouting on the other line that wasn’t Bucky came through through the phone. 

“I have to go! Talk to you later,” Bucky shouted into the phone. 

Before she could say anything else, the line ended and she slowly pulled back the phone seeing her lock screen blank. No words came out after that. 

She just stared at the screen where a picture of her Bucky, Becca, and Steve all were embedded in a bear hug together. An old picture, but one that she always loved and cherished with a group of her favorite humans. 

She also loved it because even though it was before Bucky and her had become an item, they were squished against each other. Bucky was smiling wide and caught in a laugh as he looked down at her, catching her from stumbling to the ground, and she was laughing as she gripped his arm to find her balance. Steve and Becca laughing on the side at her clumsy self, and the fact someone was always having to help her stay on two feet. Bucky having always been one of those top people in her life. 

She smiled down at the memory and couldn’t help but feel those little flutters move from her stomach to her chest and eventually make her cheeks heat up. 

_________________

Now he had two things to freak out about. One being Steve and his talk tonight. Yes, he knew he didn’t really need to after Y/N’s reassurance that things would be fine, but still. It was a strange conversation to have with your best friend. 

“Sorry I fell in love with your sister and hid it from you. My best friend of over a quarter of a decade. Not to mention you found out from me coming out of her room half naked after you thought she was home alone...” 

Yeah, that was going to be weird no matter how ok they were now… 

Then you add in, he just casually told Y/N that he loved her before hanging up the phone. He didn’t mean to. It just felt so natural in the moment! 

He wanted to make the first time he said it special, not just by accident…

God, his heart was racing and now he had four hours left of his work day to let those things just stir around in his head. Great. Maybe that 3rd cup of coffee wasn’t that great of an idea.

_______________

“So, everything’s good with you guys?” Sam asked after Steve let him in on everything.

“Yeah. I mean Buck and I still need to talk it out, but… I don’t know. I can’t be mad if they’re both happy at the end of the day. Happiest I’ve seen either of them in a while, if I’m being honest,” Steve shrugged with a small smile. 

“See, I knew that’d be the case at the end of the day. I tried telling Bucky that,” Sam shook his head as he finished up the dishes. “And sorry man about not saying anything. I didn’t think it was my place to,” he apologized. 

“No, I get it. This was their own thing. You were just being a good friend to Bucky and letting him figure this out himself,” Steve waved. 

“He’ll be home in a little. You worried?” Sam asked, washing his hands off. 

“No, if anyone’s nervous it’ll be Bucky. Y/N and I had a really good talk last night. No matter how upset I was before, I now know where they were coming from,” Steve sighed. “Did I agree with it? No, but we all have different ways we would go about things.”

“True facts,” Sam smiled. “Well, I’ll hoard myself in my room for a while until the coast is clear. Let me know if you guys need anything, ok?” 

“Got it. Oh, and Y/N said she was going to come over after with pizza for a movie night, if you want to join,” Steve pointed out moving to the couch. 

“I’m here for it,” Sam nodded, going down the hall to his room. “Call me when all is resolved.”

Steve nodded and plopped down on the couch skimming through the channels as he waited for Bucky. About 15 minutes later, he heard the lock turn and quietly the brunette made his way in with caution. 

“Hey,” Steve said softly, turning from the end of the couch. 

“Hey,” Bucky said with a soft smile as he put his things by the door. 

These were the first words they had spoken in over 2 weeks. They hadn’t talked since the whole fight in the backyard.

“How was work?” Steve asked, making small talk. 

“Nothing too crazy today,” Bucky shrugged, walking to the back of the couch with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Lillian asked about you again.” 

“From accounting?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only Lillian I know that’s obsessed with you,” Bucky laughed lightly. 

“God, I’m not ready for that…” Steve returned the chuckle. 

It got quiet after that. Not awkward, but not comfortable either. 

“So…” 

“Listen, Bucky,” Steve sitting back in his chair running a hand across his face. “I’m sorry, I punched you after-”

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” Bucky waved him off, coming around the couch slowly to sit on the opposite end. 

“Ok, yeah. You’re right,” Steve nodded with another small laugh. Again another pregnant pause. “I gotta know. Why didn’t you just tell me, Buck?”

He took in a deep breath before answering. “I’m sure Y/N told you, but we didn’t want things to have a bad falling out and it be awkward for everyone else-.”

“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t going to do it from the start?” Steve interrupted.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Y/N said that you guys went back and forth on not going through with this because you didn’t want to hurt me. I mean, maybe that’s not that big of a deal, but it changes things on my end some,” Steve explained. Bucky just sent him a blank stare. “What I mean is, when I first figured everything out, I was hurt because I thought you didn’t even consider me in your decisions. I know, it sounds selfish, but-”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re a part of the equation to some extent. Just like Becca is. But surprisingly Becca was excited and not freaked out about her best friend dating her big brother. It’s a little different being the big brother in the situation though,” he said softly. “It’s not selfish though Steve. If the roles were reversed and say you and Becca dated, I would hope you considered my feelings in the matter too.”

Steve was glad that he understood what he was getting at. He was worried it wouldn’t make sense or make him look like he thought the whole thing revolved around him. 

“Yeah…” Steve paused. “But you didn’t say anything about that when we did get in that fight. Why?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just wanted you to understand my feelings for her more than anything. I needed you to know that she wasn’t just some girl I was hoping to hook up with at some point.”

“I know you would never do that Buck. No matter how upset I was, I still don’t think that low of you,” Steve sighed. “And about that… I’m sorry I said you don’t deserve her… That was an extremely hard hit to the gut.”

“You were looking out for her,” Bucky said with pursed lips, but the pain from the past comment was clear. It didn’t feel good having your best friend who's been through thick and thin with you tell you weren’t worth something. 

“Yes, but that was a low blow and I said it out of hurt feelings. I was hurt, so I wanted you to be just as hurt. That wasn’t fair,” Steve concluded. “If there is anyone in this world that I trust to take care of Y/N just as much as me, it’s you Buck. I was just blinded by anger.”

“Understandably,” Bucky nodded, looking back at his friend a little less troubled. 

“Understandably,” Steve agreed. They stared at each other silently communicating. “I’m sorry.”

“If anyone is sorry, it’s me Steve,” Bucky shook his head running a hand down his thigh still slightly anxious. 

“How about we both agree that we didn’t handle this situation the best way,” Steve smiled. “I should have seen how happy you two were and not second guess how it happened. I shouldn’t have made it about me when you both clearly are what the other needs.”

“Steve-”

“Truly. You guys have been glowing the last two months with complete and utter happiness and I was so oblivious to pick up on it. I feel like a shitty brother and best friend.”

“You’re not a shitty brother or best friend. Not in the least,” Bucky said scooting to the edge of the couch. “You know that.”

“Y/N tell you we got in a fight on the lawn yesterday?” Steve asked with a small smirk. 

Bucky chuckled. “Yes. Said your mom about beat your asses out there too.”

“All because I was too stubborn to talk it out,” Steve shook his head while he threw it back on the back of the couch. 

“Eh, you said it yourself. We all didn’t handle this situation well,” Bucky chuckled. “She kicked your ass, didn’t she?” he said after a second. 

“Wouldn’t say that, but she must have worked out over seas because I couldn’t pin her like I used to. She was giving me a pretty decent fight,” Steve laughed loudly. 

“God, I would pay money to have someone get that on tape,” Bucky laughed with him. 

The two soaking up the now comfortable atmosphere. 

“So we’re ok, right?” Steve asked. “Leave all out petty, stubborn, and stupid mistakes in the past?”

“I’m fine with that if you are,” Bucky nodded. 

“Good. I’ve missed having my best friend around. I was getting tired of ignoring you,” Steve sighed, patting Bucky’s back. 

“You gave me good practice with your stubbornness for Y/N. Not that I haven’t been practicing with you both my whole life, but damn you guys are too bull-headed monsters.”

“We feed off each other's energy,” Steve shrugged with a smirk. 

“I know, it’s exhausting, yet entertaining all at the same time,” Bucky smiled as he moved his head side to side. 

A knock sounded at the door and they both turned toward the wooden panel. 

“Speaking of the devil,” Steve smiled standing up.

Bucky froze. 

Shit. One anxiety had been cured now, but he had almost forgotten about his second one...

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

So I watched 10.09 recently, and it has that part where Dean tells a story about him basically being almost roofied as a teen, but somehow it ends up framed as the funny joke and yet another proof that John "did what he could", and I kind of hate this? And it's the same episode in which MoC!Dean killed guys that kidnapped and tried to rape Claire, and you'd think writers would've addressed the parallels and acknowledge that Dean could've been triggered by this situation. 1/2

2/2 But in the end, it's never addressed, and the whole situation is framed as the proof that Dean is evil now. And I'm not even sure what I am trying to say, but with that being the show's approach back in s10, I'm not surprised about the finale anymore. Guess we should've known?

That’s an excellent angle to look at the issue because the Mark of Cain arc is a clear example of how people with different experiences will see the same thing in wildly different ways. There’s this phase of season 10 where everyone is like “oh no Dean is Getting Worse” and when you look at what Dean is doing... you actually go “...good for him”.

Let’s give Caesar what belongs to Caesar. It’s not “the writers” in this case, it’s Dabb. Plenty of other writers don’t fall into this John apologism thing. Just look at how the episode before Lebanon, written by Buckner and Ross Leming, says that sometimes John would temporarily kick Dean out because he was “pissed at him” despite Dean always taking his side to mantain the peace. It almost seems like a statement to sprinkle some salt given what Dabb does in Lebanon, you know? Maybe not, but there is a tension between “John was shitty” writers and “John did his best” writers.

In hindsight, we gave Dabb too much of the benefit of the doubt. We were like, weeell, that’s supposed to be way the characters perceive the truth, which is distorted by the trauma... But now it’s obvious that he truly believed in the John-did-his-best version. He brought him back and got Mary back with him. No matter what happened to the finale, the network didn’t print those pictures of John and Mary to hang on Sam’s wall. He never took Dean’s abuse seriously and it shows.

The “anedocte” of Dean getting drugged and “saved” by John from being raped is obviously there to parallel him with Claire. Which works! It’s so weird because it’s like. You are soooo close to getting the point. Younger Dean was assaulted just like this teenage girl is assaulted and Dean saves her... but apparently John yelling at those people is a good way of dealing with the issue, while murdering child traffickers is an overraction thus bad.

That’s the problem, isn’t it? That Dean’s murder spree is framed as an overreaction. Sam is like “tell me you had to do this! tell me it was you or them!” - the answer to which (by the narrative) is obviously no, it wasn’t self defense, he just killed them because he could. He just murdered those men for no reason except he felt like being murdery. And the audience is supposed to be like “oh no! Dean is murdery for no reason except for murderiness! That’s bad!”.

But it’s a power fantasy, isn’t it? Going on a murder spree on rapists and traffickers. I bet any people who’s been violated like that has fantasized of doing the exact thing Dean does here. Killing them all.

Dean had the physical strength and skill to kill them all, why shouldn’t he kill them? (I mean, in real life I’m against private justice because I’m a fan of the state of law, but the Supernatural universe obviously works on different principles than the state of law. Again, it’s a fictional narrative that plays out as a fantasy for the audience, so.)

So what was Dabb’s intention? I’m afraid it’s the worst one. “John Winchester’s not going to win any Number One Dad awards, you know? But, you know, damn if he wasn’t there when we needed him”. What the fuck, Dabb? It’s been established since season 1 that John WASN’T there when they needed him. Which... I’m afraid... leads us to the Cas-Claire plot in the episode. Cas has fucked off with Jimmy’s body leaving Claire on her own. Parallels how John wasn’t going to win wny Number One Dad awards. But! Cas is there when Claire Really Needs Him i.e. when she’s about to be raped by older men. Parallels how John was there when Dean Really Needed Him i.e. when he was about to be raped by older men.

I think the point is to say, Cas kinda sucked because he took Claire’s dad away but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Claire because he gets there in time to prevent her from being raped. Just like (ew) John kinda sucked as a father because hunting and stuff, but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Dean because he got there in time to prevent him from being raped.

It’s pretty yucky. Literally NOBODY wanted a parallel between Cas and John. But he made one. And he made one to absolve Cas from the guilt he carried for what he did to Claire (Claire’s mother is a mother so who fucking cares about her. She’s basically a Blurry Wife(TM), she’s only a tool for Claire’s arc, Cas apparently only cares about the harm he did the child, not the wife, for some reason.) and to absolve Cas from his guilt it absolves John too. Don’t worry, being a parent is hard. You often screw up. But you can *looks at smudged writing on hand* prevent the kid from being raped by predatory adults and everything’s fine now.

It’s not really important if the child suffered hunger or whatever, the only important thing is that they don’t get raped, because that’s bad, everything else is just a little detail.

All Dabb got with that scene was to paint Sam as extremely unsympathetic because he’s no longer a child, he’s a full adult now and still thinks of that episode at the CBGB as a funny story. That’s not a good look. It almost makes you think that the writer himself saw it as a funny story. Lol teenage boy biting more than he can chew. But then why the Claire parallel? The Claire scene onviously is not supposed to be anything but horrific. I'll give Dabb the benefit of the doubt on this specific thing.

It’s weird, yes, because Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon where he establishes that John was a bad husband/father even before tragedy hit the family. But apparently that’s the “not going to win any Number One Dad awards” part, I suppose? I guess he intended to write John as this flawed, ~complex~ figure who was imperfect but still brave and whatever blah blah did his best blah blah. I’m all for flawed complicated characters but a horrible father is a horrible father. A rose by any other name... parental abuse is still parental abuse even if the poor guy was complicated and traumatized and did what he thought he had to do to prepare his sons for a violent world.

Also, the story frames Dean’s escapade as a teenager being stupid. “You know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around looked at me and said, Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked.” “It’s my job to raise you right.” This seems straight from a novel about teenagers doing something stupid that they’re too young to realize that their parents are right to be against them doing. But this isn’t just... a parent walking into a bar to stop their child to drink alcohol. Dean literally describes feeling sick from something that was inside the alcohol.

Sure, it makes sense that he’d lash out to John because of the shame and shock. But the scene is... off. Are we supposed to see this as a typical teenage mistake? Are we supposed to read it as something as horrific as what happened to Claire, literally sold into rape? Or, worse, are we supposed to see what happened to Claire as a teenage mistake, ah silly teenager, blindly trusting shady people, no wonder you end up in a situation where you’d get raped if a father figure didn’t sweep in and save you. I hope that wasn’t the intent.

To get back to Dean’s Mark-of-Cain violence, the writers clearly didn’t intend it to come from the Darkness up to a certain point. It was supposed to an arc about your own inner darkness (consider the Charlie episode, a couple episodes later). Then they came up with the idea of The(TM) Darkness, the suppressed cosmic feminine. While it caused a bit of dissonance in the subtext, it doesn’t really change Dean’s narrative, because his inner darkness is the trauma, and his trauma is inherebtly tied to the “feminine” i.e. the parts of him that don’t fit seamlessly into the scheme of toxic masculinity values. That the violence that comes from the Mark of Cain comes from Dean himself and that’s it, or is connected to the Darkness, it doesn’t change what it means for Dean. Dean and Amara have parallel histories, the feminine principle locked away, the trauma the anger stems from.

In 10x09 we’re still in the Before The (TM) Darkness era, before the suppressed cosmic feminine. The Mark of Cain arc is still about... well, Cain. But the shift is the signal that someone looked at Dean’s arc and said... you know what? “Lucifer gave me this curse so now I’m demonic and murdery” is meh. “Toxic masculinity suppresses the feminine and it creates trauma which rage and violence comes from” is more interesting. I don’t know whose idea it was, but it was a good idea, and surely the idea came from seeing how Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding.

Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding in a certain way, in fact, because of a pretty simple reason. There’s a fundamental tension in Dean’s MoC arc. We want him to go murdery, but it’s also our main character, so we don’t want him to do really horrible things because he still needs to be relatable. The audience cannot hate him, so he must NOT do something entirely unforgivable. He still needs to be somewhat relatable, even when demonic or demonic-adjacent.

So he goes on a murder spree... but it’s rapists and child traffickers. He’s demon, but he kills a misogynistic dude that wanted his wife dead for cheating on him. He’s a demon, but beats up dudes that harass women. He does a slaughter, but they’re nazi. He’s off the deep end, but works a case of kidnapped and abused young women...

Speaking of which. 10x23, written by Jeremy Carver. Dean works a case where a girl was killed while dressed scantily and Dean makes some slut-shaming remarks, and we’re supposed to think “whoa Dean, that’s bad”. But later he confronts the girl’s father and what does he say?

I’m just doing my job, Mr. McKinley.

By suggesting my daughter was a slut?

I’ll admit that thought crossed my mind. Then I came here, and I smelled the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervade this home.

You shut your face right now.

And you know what? I don’t blame Rose anymore. No wonder she put on that skank outfit and went out there looking for validation, right into the arms of the monster that killed her.

Back then the episode was super controversial and everyone hated the case because of the apparent slut-shaming but I loved it! Because it’s not about the girl. It’s about Dean. Dean doesn’t think that a girl gets killed because she dresses in a miniskirt so it’s her fault. Dean is projecting on himself and he’s not actually victim blaming the girl, he’s victim blaming himself. And when he absolves the girl by putting the blame on the father... well, subtextually he’s absolving himself by putting the blame on his father. On the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervaded his own home. He’s textually not ready to absolve himself, of course, he summons Death to ask him to kill him later, but subtextually he’s on the right path.

Rose McKinley basically did the same mistake Dean did at the CBGB when he trusted some older people who offered him drinks and the same mistake Claire did when she trusted a man who sold her for money because he offered him a place and stability. She trusted the wrong people (in this case, vampires, which adds the whole subtext of vampires and sexuality) who took advantage of her. Except Rose had no one to save her. (Her friend, Crystal, gets rescued by Dean, even if he causes the other hunter Rudy to die in the process.)

Carver’s writing is pretty brutal. The girl made that mistake because was abused at home, so she was desperate for validation and that desperation drove her into the wrong hands. (Rose even has a brother who blames himself for bringing her sister to her future murderers, destructive sibling relationship check.) It doesn’t actually even matter if Dean guessed right about Rose’s family situation, because what matters is what it tells us about Dean. He basically relates to a dead abused girl. Actually all through the season Dean is paralleled to “skanks” “sluts” and sex workers. Obviously this happens kinda all through the show, the whole “the business is based on absent fathers” thing happened much earlier in the story, so it’s not new. But s10 draws a picture of female suffering - abuse, manipulation and death. Season 10 was difficult to go through. In hindsight, it was probably on purpose because it was supposed to be darkest hour of the feminine. Summed with some good old fashioned misogyny, but hey.

The Carver era was wonky but Carver wanted to free the feminine. (I believe that Mary’s comeback, while written by Dabb because of the showrunner shift, was planned before the showrunner shift.) We thought the Dabb era wanted the same, with Mary choosing life and Amara being independent and so on, but it evidently wasn’t the case. Not a single woman arrives at end of the story. It’s hardly ~Bucklemming or ~the network or ~covid because it starts before the very end.

I’m not saying that dead sluts are more feminist than living women, but if the women die or disappear anyway (and they did) I’d rather have an exploration of trauma than nothing. And I definitely prefer a dead slut narrative that calls out parental abuse than a narrative where women live but abuse gets the you-did-your-best treatment.

Whoops! I digressed! But feel free to ask for any clarification or send me any observation or thought.

[haleigh-sloth]

Hi 🙋‍♀️ my friend thinks that Dabi is going to be put down(killed) and Endeavor will be the one who’s going to do it as an act of atone. I told her that it was a horrific take because that would be a horrible way to atone and two your essentially saying that Endeavor should re-kill the son he failed and basically killed by his actions of neglect/abuse as a parent which would not be a good path to take! I also stated that three villains are being set up to be saved. She still doesn’t believe me, and asked if I could get a better perspective. So I’m here begging 🙏🏻 🥺 for your input please? Your definitely a lot more perspective and have a better eye than I!

Hey! So I’m going to answer everything, but first ask your friend to provide evidence of this, and to also explain how any of that would be even remotely acceptable to portray in a story that is aimed toward a very large, young, impressionable audience, in which a portion has undoubtedly experienced abuse in their own lives. How would those people feel reading that? What kind of message does that send? Horikoshi isn’t like a writing genius or anything, but he is not THAT incompetent. I mean...do give him credit where it’s due. He’s been building up their redemptions for a long time and he’s already established that as the next narrative challenge for Shouto, Ochaco, and Midoriya. I’m not going to say anything about your friend’s way of thinking because I can’t tell by the way your ask is worded if she believes that’s how it SHOULD go (which is....not good) or if she just has no faith in the writing (which is understandable but I’m gonna try to relieve some of those anxieties). In order to remain polite and civil I’m gonna go with the ladder and assume she just has no faith in Horikoshi, which is understandable, but not necessary! I hope you’re comfortable because this is probably going to be longer than I am anticipating, but oh well. 

Anyway, I’ll start with establishing what is deemed acceptable in the world of BNHA as far as killing goes.

*clears throat* It’s not fucking acceptable. Never was, never will be.

Look, please pinpoint to me where a pro-hero in the story has killed a villain and it was viewed as acceptable. And before you point at Hawks, I’m going to direct you here, here, and here. And there are so so SO many more posts I could find and link you to that explain my point further on that matter, but I won’t do that unless it’s asked of me. Regardless, Hawks murdering Twice was not acceptable, it was not portrayed as such, it was not viewed as such by the characters within the story. Therefore, it was not acceptable. And I’m fairly certain Hawks has a really rough road ahead of him because of his terrible choice, so prepare yourself for that.  But where was I? Oh yeah, establishing whether or not it’s acceptable to kill:

I mean there are more, but I don’t have all the time in the world. Tell her to read the story from the beginning and pay attention to what the story is telling its readers  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Now, we’ve established that heroes in BNHA do NOT kill. That is not what being a hero means in THIS story. Now, what else is something important in BNHA that has repeatedly gotten focus?

Family.

To me personally, the most important callout to the importance of protecting your family is here:

He’s calling out all heroes, but he’s saying this in front of Endeavor. Important. Note that. There’s an entire subplot dedicated to the importance of portraying that putting your family first is the utmost responsibility of a parent. Outside of that subplot, we are shown the very dire consequences of what happens when parents abandon and reject their children.

Exhibit A: Toga

Exhibit B: Toya, or Dabi

Exhibit C: Tenko, or Tomura

These adults are the result of parents who failed their families.

Look, regardless of what people want to say the story is about: whether it’s about heroes vs. villains (it’s not), or about Midoriya graduating UA and becoming the number 1 hero (it’s not), or about Midoriya mastering his quirk (it’s not), there is no denying that BNHA is about heroes SAVING others and parents protecting their FAMILY. 

Horikoshi made it a point to establish a clear difference between the adults and the children in BNHA. He also made a point to show ALL THREE VILLAINS’ origin stories and showed us that all it took was ONE BAD DAY when they were CHILDREN. There is literally a chapter titled “All it takes is one bad day” specifically to drill this into your head. Toga’s life went downhill after attacking that boy in middle school from suppressing her biological nature for so long. Toya’s life went downhill when his flames nearly killed him. Tenko’s life went downhill when his quirk activated and killed his whole family. All it took was one bad day in these children’s lives to completely ruin their futures and take any and every chance away from them at a normal life. 

So with the strong focus on heroes saving people and parents failing their children, why why WHY would it ever be acceptable for Enji to KILL his SON? That not only repeats the first mistake made (Toya’s death), but also negates ALL of the narrative focuses of the entire story. I just...that’s a very very deep disconnect that I can’t force closed unless your friend chooses to look deeper than surface level reading. And it’s not just BNHA that has narrative themes and focuses throughout the story. That’s ANY story you read. Well, any good story at least. I’m not a writer by any means but even I know the basic rules of story telling: 

Leave a message for your readers. Give your story a goal. 

Otherwise it’s just words and pictures on paper that don’t mean anything. 

So I gave you the basics of what BNHA is about, now I’ll give the specific moments that directly tell you that Toya, Toga, and Tomura are going to be saved and redeemed. 

Toya:

Toga:

Tomura:

Now....does your friend really think these panels up here just mean nothing? Because that’s not how manga works. The panels have meaning, especially the ones given the most attention to drawing detail, the ones given the most space on a page. All of these were given their own big moments in their respective chapters. Toga is going to be saved by Ochaco, Toya is going to be saved by his baby brother, and Shigaraki is going to be saved by our main character Midoriya. It’s clear as day right there. 

Now I want to take it back to the Todoroki family for just a bit once more. Their entire subplot revolves around reunification. That has been the established endgame since Shouto’s origin chapters. And honestly? You don’t even have to be smart to figure this out. Like when you see Rei in the hospital, you already assume that she’s going to get out and come home at some point within the story, making the family whole again. THEN you learn about Toya and you learn that he’s ALIVE after ten years of being presumed dead. You really think HE isn’t going to be brought home just like his mother was??? Fam, that is the established goal of the Todoroki Family Subplot. There is no denying this, it is there in the text, and it is not even a little bit subtle. Horikoshi is not subtle. At all. With anything. Ever.  

However, no matter how much textual evidence we are given, there are still people living in denial because it’s either A. Not the direction they want, or B. They really just aren’t grasping the writing. Either way, the redemption set ups are there, whether they like it or not. At this point I’m convinced that the only way to shut villain-haters down is to wait til the last chapter has come out and the villains are fine, Toya is reunited with his family, Toga is alive and well and finds community with the other kids (at least that’s what I predict), and Shigaraki is alive and well and surrounded by people who care about him, a family if you will. Other than just waiting for that moment, idk what else it’s gonna take for the bad takes to stop. 

Now here’s my reality check disclaimer:

Horikoshi could screw us all and just kill the villains off. But that would be bad writing and also ruin the ENTIRE STORY. And believe me I will bitch and bitch until I am six feet under and I will continue to bitch about it in whatever afterlife awaits me. But seriously..he won’t do that. Not to mention I have a million other reasons somewhat unrelated to the writing but more so to Horikoshi himself as to why I believe with all of my being that the three villains are going to get a happy ending, but that’s a different discussion for a different time. This post is already long as shit. 

I hope your friend will look a little deeper at the story so she can enjoy it for what it is. The story has flaws, the Todoroki subplot is definitely a MESS right now because of the focus on Endeavor 🤢, but I believe it will clean itself up and be great in the end. The redemption arcs of the villains are the most interesting thing about BNHA and I know I speak for a lot of others and not just myself when I say this but, the villains are the only reason a LOT of people are still even invested in the story to begin with. If it weren’t for them? We’d all be ghost. So, do with that what you will. I hope this helps ease your anxieties a little bit and helps your friend understand what to pay attention to in the writing.

[lady-une]

They Always Leave

This is something I wrote just to process my feelings about a guy. Nothing fanfic related at all. Honestly probably just a pile of emotions horribly written. But if you read it enjoy. It made me cry.

Trigger warning that this does mention drug use but honestly this stuff isn’t a drug.

Loud laughter and music could easily have been heard by anyone who happened to drive by or park near the crazy looking Toyota. For inside the Toyota held three friends, who were just doing their normal Scooby gang shit of smoking and listening to music. Their bellies were full having just engorged themselves on wings, cheese curds, and waffle fries.

The night was setting up to be a normal night for the trio, nothing to crazy. The only thing out of the ordinary was that a special appearance was to be made by a man who once partook in these normal nights. A man who’s laughter lifted one of the girls spirit. A man who did stupid shit all the time just to make people laugh. A man who’s darkness matched Alice’s. He was everything she wanted all rolled up in one stupid motherfucker.

When Alice had first met Caleb he was just some random guy who had tagged along with another guy her best friend had been seeing. Everyone knew of him as alibi, he was just some stupid redneck man. Not at all what Alice was attracted to. Yet the more time she spent with him the more that stupid redneck grew on her. She told herself it was nothing, chalked her emotions up to him just being a challenge. She knew he didn’t like big girls, he preferred his woman small and red headed. It was fine, everyone had their preference in a mate. Hell Alice had her own and this man didn’t hit any requirement.

But something changed. The playful teasing and remarks changed. She started to see him differently. An attraction started to slowly build deep in her gut. Small little hugs became more. Being so close to him that she could feel his breath on her cheek as they spoke silly things to one another about what they were doing. The urge to kiss him started to grow. The day dreams of him professing his attraction started to become recurring. The way he looked at her, it made her second guess everything. Was that smile different? Did he always follow me with his eyes? She started to ask around to see if anyone else had noticed anything or if it was all in her girly imagination. Some said he was just being friendly and a few said he probably had feelings too.

Alice had a way of showing her affection. Some call it a love language but in all honesty it was just childhood trauma and her way of trying to buy affection. To keep someone from leaving, because Alice knew they all left in the end. She had slowly started to gift him things. It started out small, a sex toy since he had been in a two year dry spell. She had taped it up with two containers of gorilla tape. She had joked saying it was to mimic being at a bar and having to work for that piece of ass. Then she had found out his favorite beer. Of course it would be a seasonal one, just like her who had a love of a hard to find seasonal liquor. She checked daily for the beer to come in stock and finally when it did she bought 3 cases knowing it wouldn’t last long but it would put a smile on his face.

For his birthday she had requested the day off work. The idea had formed to drive the hour long drive to his job and tape his truck up with clear wrap and then attach birthday balloons. Then meet him and his friend Greg at the bar for a birthday lunch. There she would give him his gift, a shirt. Nothing extravagant, just one from his favorite online brands that supported the troops. Yet that whole plan had been lost. Gone in an instant. Lies and deceit had caused her to part ways with her once close friend Greg. Caleb was a causality as her best friend had called it. Alice hated it, she didn’t want to part from Caleb.

The birthday shirt had sat days in her room at the end of her bed. Still in the delivery packaging. Alice would have just dropped it off in the bed of his truck had she known his address. Instead after a night of smoking and drinking she had finally texted him. Letting him know she had his gift, letting him know how much she missed him. With the dawn of the next day came sobriety and realization of how stupid she was. Quickly opening the chat she saw he had not seen the messages, this was her chance to right the wrong. With a click of her finger she unsent the messages to Caleb. It wasn’t until later in the day that Caleb had finally opened the chat up and saw that she had unsent the messages and called her out on it.

Alice confessed that she had texted him some stupid ramblings about the boxing match she had seen. A bold face lie but there was no way in hell she would confess her feelings to him sober. Instead she lied and then asked to meet so she could give him his birthday gift early. He had agreed to meet her while she was out with her friends. A quick drive by and it would be fine. Or that’s what Alice had told herself.

The margarita she had in the restaurant had calmed her nerves. The devils lettuce she was smoking had made her even more calm. This would be fine, she repeated her mantra “it’s fine” over and over in her head. A quick in and out.

It wasn’t long before she received the text that he was pulling up and asked where to park. She told him to look for the Yoda mobile and loud music. He replied back with a simple “LOL” and then she heard his loud truck before she saw it. Looking at her friends she smiled before getting out of the car with the gift. Caleb had parked two spots to the left of car and was climbing out of it by the time she reached him. The man wore his standard wranglers and brown boots with his KORN t-shirt and hat.

Alice laughed before nervously saying, “I should have bet on KORN instead of the fuck your feelings shirt.”

“That shirt was dirty, this was the nearest shirt.” Caleb replied with a half smile on his face.

Alice looked up at him trying to decipher what his eyes were possibly saying behind his dark sunglasses. A memory of a time earlier that summer where she yelled at him to take those damn shades off so she can see that he was looking at her while she talked to him popped in her head. To an outsider it would look like she was being mean to him but that was how they were. They would loudly bicker and cuss one another out with a smile on their faces.

“Well now you have a new shirt. Sorry I didn’t get you those jeans you wanted, you know shit just got weird and I felt weird texting you to ask about the jeans.”

“You didn’t have to.” Caleb replied as he took the colorfully bright pink Disney princess bag from Alice’s outstretched hand. He looked at the bag and back to her with a smile.

“Don’t give me that look, I saw it at target and the damn thing screamed ‘Caleb’ so I had to buy it. Now go on and open it!”

Caleb shook his head as he opened the bag up, sifting through the pink and blue tissue paper Alice had stuffed into it. When Caleb finally had the shirt in hand he tossed the princess bag into the bed of his truck and unfolded the shirt to hold it up and inspect it.

“I fucking love it Alice!” He shouted as he looked at the shirt that had bullets in the shape of a hand flicking you off.

“I wasn’t sure if I should get that one or the one with all the fish on it that said size matters. But Greg said to get this one.”

“Well I love it, thank you!”

Caleb opened his arms and Alice fell right into them wrapping her arms around his back and taking comfort in his hold. It had been too long since she got to hold her favorite person. She often dreamt of him holding her and it felt just as good as her dreams.

“Come on Alice, say your goodbyes. He is a casualty.” Yelled out Alice’s best friend from the back of the Toyota affectively killing Alice’s moment with Caleb.

“Casualty?” Caleb asked.

Alice pulled away but held on with just one hand to his KORN shirt, “Just ignore her.”

“Mmmhmm. How are things going with that?” Caleb inquired.

Before Alice could give him an answer her other friend yelled from the driver seat in his Yoda voice “Say your goodbyes and lets go.”

Alice looked from Caleb to her friends in the car and stomped her foot as she yelled “I wanna keep this one!”

The car of friends broke out in a laughter knowing that she was referencing a TikTok they had all seen hundreds of times. They thought she was being funny, they knew she had a crush on Caleb but she had meant it. She didn’t want him to be a casualty. She wanted him to stay in her life.

“You should probably get going, I don’t wanna hold you up.” Caleb said with a slight chuckle.

“I don’t want to. Can’t you stay awhile?” Alice asked looking up at him through her sunglasses. She could feel the tears wanting to come but held them back.

“You know I cant.”

“Please.” She begged.

“I have to get home.”

“Live a little.”

“I do live a lot but just not with you.”

“Same excuse every time.”

“Get going now before they leave your ass.”

Alice grabbed on to his shirt with the other hand. “I don’t want to.”

The tears were welling up inside her eyes, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold off. She hated crying in front of people. She saw it as a weakness. The many years as a child being told to stop crying or she would be given a reason to cry. Then as an adult being told by the man she was seeing that crying was a weakness and that she need to toughen up and that she wasn’t allowed to cry and be weak. She knew it was perfectly fine to cry and it was not a weakness. It was something that she told her kids all the time when they felt sad. That it was normal to cry and that you should cry and work through your emotions. Yet it was something she preached but never practiced herself. She had four kids at home to watch over, she didn’t have time to be weak.

“Thank you for the gift Alice, I really do like it.” Caleb said as he held onto one of her arms.

“I’m glad you do.” The first traitorous tear slip passed her eyes and she knew the instant Caleb saw it because his face lost all playfulness.

“Alice…” he gently called her name.

“I know its stupid. You don’t gotta tell me that. But I know the minute I let go and you get in your truck I wont see you again. All those plans we had will be gone. Who will take me to the gun shop to buy my first gun? Who will make sure that the sales man doesn’t take advantage of me? Who will help me learn to shoot it correctly? Why couldn’t you like me? God I sound like a stupid female right now. But we would have been great together you know. You matched my level of darkness, we matched each other in so many ways.”

“Alice..”

“You know it. They know it. Everyone knows it. Everyone always said that we should just get together but we both would just laugh but deep down I wanted it. God did I want it but you just couldn’t get past that I was a bigger girl. Boy do I feel fucking stupid on an epic proportion right now.”

“Alice everyone has their preference, you always said we were friends because you knew I didn’t like you like that.”

“Of course I did because I didn’t wanna lose you. Better to be friends then not have you in my life. Funny how now I wont even have that.”

The tears were freely falling at this point. Alice could no longer hold her head high, instead she looked down at the ground. She couldn’t look at that stupid face of his, that face that she knew would haunt her dreams for many days to come.

“Alice you will find someone so much better then me. My stupid ass wouldn’t make the best partner for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Look at me Alice.”

Alice shook her head, how could she look at him she was feeling pathetic at the moment. Crying because a man doesn’t want her. Caleb didn’t give her a chance to wallow in her own misery, he put his new shirt on the side of his truck bed and grabbed her face lifting it up to his. He lifted her sunglasses and looked at her tear stained face.

“Don’t cry Alice.”

“Shut up you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Caleb took his thumbs and brushed the tears away from her eyes. “I’m not someone to cry about.”

“To me you are.”

“You gotta let me go Alice. Move on. It was fun while it lasted and we will always have our memories.”

“Do they teach you these bullshit excuses when you guys are in school? I swear it’s the same fucking thing just said by a different guy.” Alice yelled angrily through her tears.

“Don’t be mad.”

“Don’t tell me what to feel.”

“Then don’t act like a spoiled brat.”

“Then don’t act like an ass who is un-attracted to fat women.”

“We aren’t going to get anywhere on this. Please don’t be mad and please don’t cry over me.”

Alice knew she was being mad because she was hurt and that she shouldn’t be. She knew she should be enjoying these last few moments with Caleb. With shaky hands Alice reached for Caleb’s sunglasses and lifted them up to see his face. Caleb was an expert at hiding his feelings, years in the military had made him hard.

“Why did you do it Alice?” Caleb quietly asked.

“You act like I did it on purpose. I didn’t plan on falling for you. If you weren’t so fucking perfect and if your darkness didn’t call to mine we would be safe.”

“I’m sorry Alice.”

“Me too Caleb.” Alice whispered as more tears fell down her face and she stood on her tippy toes to give him a chaste kiss at the edge of his lips.

Alice tried to smile through her tears and pulled away allowing him room to get back into his truck. With him seated in his truck Caleb rolled down the window and said goodbye before pulling away. Alice watched as the man she wanted nothing more did what all men do…..leave.

[shadowfae]

We’re all pretty aware that the tumblr otherkin community is at a huge decline; I was wondering if you have any theories as to why that is?

American Protestantism, the decline of queer oppression in North America and the AIDS crisis, helicopter parenting, web 3.0, morality politics, and  Tumblr’s porn ban; roughly in that order and rolled up into one bombshell that was a few years in the coming but nobody really saw it and understood it until it was far too late.

That was a mouthful and probably only made sense if you follow current cyberpolitical theory. For some of you reading this, as with every other hot take I have this has a chance of being passed around, that alone is enough. But for others who had no idea what I just said and need the ELI5 version, let me explain that. Buckle up, this’ll be a long one, and will go into fandom history a bit as well because it is actually relevant.

As we know, tumblr is a very American-centric platform. Twitter is also this way, but less so, but tumblr has it bad. Now, I’m ‘lucky’ in the fact that I’m Canadian and a twenty minute drive from the American border, so that puts me in the ‘privileged’ majority. (I say privileged because I’m not really sure what else to call it. Most of the information going around about politics either directly affects me or indirectly affects me approximately one or two links of contact away. Someone who’s only influenced by American politics because it makes their sister’s online friends sad is not going to be privileged in that way.)

This means that American politics and their social climate overwhelmingly affects tumblr’s social climate. This also bleeds through into other fandom spaces, on twitter, instagram, and Pixiv to name a few places; but here’s where I spend the majority of my time so here’s what I’ve witnessed.

America’s main religion, as far as I understand (from the raised agnostic and currently neopagan view I have), is some weirdass capitalistic-Protestantism that is so many miles from what the actual Bible says that if I were a betting man and knew more about cults than I did, I’d say it’s some weird fucking cult and never set foot in the country again for any reason that isn’t gaming free shipping through a PO box. If you have no idea what I just said but are at least vaguely familiar with Christianity, this graphic explains it pretty well. So we can see there’s some glaring issues with that ideal.

The decline of queer oppression and the rise of queer rights in North America, which is to tenderly include my own country but we all know when people say ‘in NA’ they mean ‘America, and Canada where it applies because the right-wing Republicans are really good in the propaganda department to convince everyone that Mexico is a drug-lords-and-anarchy wasteland to the point where even I don’t actually know what’s down there other than bad drivers and heat’; means two things. One, it’s a good thing by a long shot and do not mistake this as me thinking queer oppression being lessened is a bad thing. But two, it means that thanks to the AIDS crisis, queer folks lost a lot of first-person sources as history.

The queer elders in NA who survived are typically either a) bitter anarchists who are often POC, probably still dirt poor and do recreational drugs or b) university-tenured TERFs (trans exclusionary radical feminists). Category A are the people who Republicans have deemed worthless in every way, because racism, queerphobia, ableism, and all the other ways to be wrong and different and Evil that they can’t handle, because Jeezus would never want them to actually learn to love someone who wasn’t just like them, and they don’t have the compassion to do better. Category B are the people who want to be different in just a teensie little bit, typically with TERFs they want to be lesbians, but they don’t want to challenge the status quo. They’re fine with the way things work, they just want to be on top oppressing others over ripping the whole damn thing down and building a more forgiving system.

Now, due to all those ‘isms and the cheerfully malicious aid of the Republicans, pun not intended but drives home the cruelty of it all, we also see the rise of helicopter parenting. The invention of the internet did not really help this. Basically what you’ve got is a whole bunch of parents who saw the civil rights movement, just got access to the internet and things going viral, know the world is changing, and like all parents, they’re scared for their children. Now instead of parents knowing one or two people in their classes who just went missing one day and everyone assumed they ran away, they hear about eight homicides in the city of kids going to parks at night and dying. The Satanic Panic was another event around this time that contributed to that, but I’ll let you research that one.

This means that all of these parents, instead of doing what their parents typically did and let their kids wander off for the day so long as they’re back by sundown, they can’t let their children out of their sight. There might be a freak accident where their child is decapitated on the playground swing! Their baby might get murdered by an evil Satanist walking home from school! Their dearest darling might go online and tell their address to someone who’s got a 100% chance of being a pedophile who will show up and kidnap them in the night!

…You get the idea. 

Combine those three things I just established, what we’ve got is a lot of queer kids who have a lot of internalized shame for being different and wrong, because they’re queer, and they can’t find spaces offline to be themselves, because all of the elders who would do that are dead and/or inaccessible and their parents won’t let them go to any clubs that aren’t school-related, which they’ll never find a GSA or queer club because Republicans, ‘isms, propaganda, and the war on Category A queer adults have all done their best to ensure that those spaces don’t exist.

So you have a generation of kids who I am the youngest of. The first generation on the internet. The late Web 1.0 (usenets and Geocities) and early Web 2.0 (livejournal was the big one, ff.net too, also 4chan but fuck those guys) generation. What we were taught was: trust nobody on the internet with your real info no matter how much you like them, this is a wilderness and any crimes that happen won’t be punished or seen so don’t put yourself in a position where you’re going to be the victim of one, and everything you put online is never getting taken down so don’t put anything up that you’re not willing to have on the front page of your local newspaper.

This worked out pretty well, actually! You had kids who knew that if they got in trouble, there was no backup coming to save them. Because the form that backup might take - parents and police - wasn’t going to help. Best case, they’d be banned from their friends and online support groups for being queer. Worst case, they’d be jailed and put in juvie and conversion therapy and turn to drugs and become evil Satanists just like everyone says they secretly are already. So they learned very quickly to take care of themselves. Nobody was going to save them, so they learned to not need saving.

And then, well, Web 2.0 shifted to Web 3.0. Livejournal died because parents - the Warriors for Innocence was the big name - went “gasp how horrible my children are being exposed to the evil pedos and homosexuals they’re going to do drugs and die of AIDS!”. Which is uh. It’s filled with a lot of bigotry, and I’m not excusing them - absolutely I am not - but you can kind of see where they’re coming from, if you tilt your head and squint.

Either way, LJ died, tumblr took its place, Facebook was fast taking off, and the fandom folks who had seen mailing lists go inactive, web admins take their fanfic sites down due to copyright, entire fandoms burnt to the ground in flame wars, said ‘fuck that we’re making our own place’ and that’s how AO3 got made.

That’s important. A lot of folks move to AO3, because well, the rules let them. The rules say ‘you can throw literally anything up here so long as it’s fan content and is not literally illegal, so we don’t get taken down’. It’s a swing for the first generation internet users, those kids who know this place is a wilderness and are carving out our own sanctuary.

But. The children under us. The children for whom AIDS is a nightmarish fairy tale, for whom the ghost stories are conversion therapy, for whom know they can’t really talk to their parents about being queer but can trust they probably won’t get kicked out over it. The children who haven’t spent ten seconds without supervision except online, and their reaction isn’t ‘oh thank god I’m finally free to express myself’ but ‘if I get in trouble, who will protect me?’.

And there’s nobody there. Because we went in knowing there was no backup. And that was fine. But now, the actual adults have figured out that hey uh, maybe we should make cyber laws? Maybe we should make revenge porn and grooming children over the internet crimes? And they grew up with that. They grew up learning that no, even if your parents are suffocating and controlling, they’re always be there for you! Some adult will always be there to protect you!

That isn’t the case. It’s not. But they expect it, because it’s always been done for them. They don’t really want to change the status quo, because that means doing it themselves. They can’t do that, because they don’t know how, they’ve been controlled for every single part of their lives thanks to helicopter parenting and without that control, they don’t know how to keep their lives together, and they demand someone come and control it for them, without restraining them.

Effectively, they want someone to ensure they never face the consequences of their actions. Helicopter parents will rescue you from whatever you did, because you’re their precious baby and it doesn’t matter if you punched a kid, you can do no wrong and the other kid clearly started it.

But being queer is doing wrong. Being queer is something Jeezus doesn’t approve of. So they want to make it something he could approve of! But if it’s too off what they consider to be okay, if it’s too different and weird and wrong and evil, that can’t do, that’s still bad, and they’re precious angels, and children, and minors, why are we the adults not protecting them and letting them see it? Why aren’t we being just like their parents  but queer-friendly, why aren’t we protecting the children?

The adults who taught us were the children of those who died as a result of AIDS. The eldest of my generation knew some of them personally. My therapist’s younger brother died at 20 of AIDS, and she told me what it was like. But they don’t have that. These kids of web 3.0, they don’t have that. What they have is over-controlling parents, and the expectation that someone will always be there to protect them but hopefully in ways that don’t hurt them this time, no real understanding of why Category A queer elders are the way they are, and so much internalized shame that they have to do some pretty fancy logic-leaping to keep them from collapsing entirely.

They can’t turn into Category A queer youngsters, because they don’t know how to unravel the system around them, because they’ve never had to actually make choices in their lives and live with the consequences, because they don’t have the example of how to do it. They can’t unravel their internalized shame because again, that’s hard and they don’t have their parents to take away the consequences and pain. It doesn’t come easy to them, so it may as well not come at all.

But, you ask, if Category A queer elders aren’t around to teach the kids, then how are they learning anything positive at all? Well, Category B, our university-tenured TERFs, who don’t want to change the status quo but want to just be at the top of it instead.

For a lot of kids who don’t know how to make hard choices but want to be queer, this is an extremely attractive option. But when they go online to queer spaces, a lot of them say fuck terfs, we don’t support your hate, and they go ‘yeah okay that makes sense’. They can say fuck terfs without ever actually questioning why terfs are bad. They’re Bad and Evil, just like drug addicts, just like fairytale nazis, just like the evil homophobes.

And we saw them say ‘yeah fuck terfs’ and we were like, ‘aight you got it’ and we never questioned if they actually understood us. They didn’t. They didn’t, and we didn’t do enough to fix it, because not enough of us realized the problem. So terfs got a little sneaky. They hid behind dogwhistles and easy little comments, hiding their rhetoric in queer theory that you’ll absolutely miss if you just memorize it and never actually question it and understand why that point is being made.

This goes back to America sucking, because their school system is far more focused on rote memorization over actual logic and understanding of the text. They’re engaging with queer theory the way they’ve been taught, which is memorize and don’t think, don’t question. Besides, questioning and understanding is hard. Being shown different points of view and asked what they think is not only hard but requires them to go against all of the conditioning that says to just listen and agree and never question it, which goes back to tearing the system and internalized shame down, and we’ve established they can’t do that so naturally they don’t do that.

This begets, then, the rise of exclusionary politics. They’re turning into Category B queer youngsters, because we told them ‘hey that’s a terf talking point what are you doing’ and they never questioned why. They learned you can do all sorts of things, just don’t say X, Y, or Z, because they never thought deeply about it.

The children who have grown on Web 3.0 do not want to do any heavy lifting to make things easier for themselves long-run. They want to do as little as possible and have things get better for them. There isn’t enough of us left in Category A, because Category B terfs are very good at recruiting young folks and Cat. A is overwhelming poor, dead, and easily dismissed in the system as evil and bad, so we can’t exactly convince the young folks to listen. If all of the young kids could agree to tear down the system, a lot more older folks might listen. Change always starts with the young, and there’s a reason for that.

But Republicans have figured out, if you get people fighting, they never put together a force that can actually stop you. TERFs, who want the exact same thing as Republicans but with themselves on top, are doing this to queer youth, and Cat. A elders can’t fight back because there isn’t enough of them and the odds are against them, and the young folk like me who follow their lead.

People can kinda handle gay people. It’s not so far from the acceptable normal that it’s impassable. But you want them to handle kinky people? Gay people of colour? Kinky gay people of colour? Trans people? Those are bridges too far to step across. The original idea was to get the foot in the door with marriage equality and inch our way through with racial equality, sex positivity, dismantling ableism and perisexism (forgive me if that isn’t the word for anti-intersex ‘ism), and see if we can’t patch up the system instead of inciting a civil war over this and have to tear down the system entirely.

Well, we might’ve managed that if not for AIDS being the perfect ‘Jeezus is killing all the evil gay people for being sinners’ propaganda machine. As it stands now, not a chance in hell. So long as Republicans and terfs keep everyone fighting, nobody has the power to dismantle their empire, and they stay in power.

So then, you ask me, “Lu what the fuck does that have to do with the decline of otherkinity on tumblr???” and now that you’ve got all that background knowledge, here is your answer.

Those children who want their experiences curated for them and the evil icky content they don’t like to be gone because it disgusts them and anything that disgusts them is clearly sinful problematic and should be destroyed, are what we call ‘antishippers’, or anti for short.

They like being progressive. Sort of. They learned what Republicans and terfs have honed to a fine talent: keep people fighting, hold them to a bar they have to constantly make or risk being ostracized, and harass the people who don’t play along into getting out of your sight forever. Sound familiar?

They learned of otherkinity, and particularly fictionkind, because web 3.0 means if something goes viral on one site, it doesn’t just go viral on that site, it makes it to worldwide newspapers and twitter and nobody ever, ever fucking forgets it. They realized the following: “Hey wait, if I’m this character for realsies, not only does it help me deal with the internalized shame I’ve done nothing to actually fix because that takes work, I can also tell these people who draw gross content I don’t like they’re hurting me personally, and that actually sounds credible, and I can shame them into stopping”.

If this is your first time here and that sounds sickening, it damn well should, and I am so, so sorry that any of us had to witness this, and I am more sorry I and everyone else who personally witnessed this didn’t realize what was going on and put a stop to it. I answer asks and browse the tags and clear up misinformation and it isn’t just a genuine desire to help. It’s damage control, and my own way of trying to deal with the guilt of not stopping this. I’m well aware I couldn’t have seen it coming, I was a teenager myself still learning and no one person has that much power. I still feel like I should have done more, and I’ll do what I can to fix what’s within my power to fix.

So back to the story. This all culminates around 2016 or so. Trump wins the election, and every queer person ever knows they’re fucked, and the younger generation’s only ever heard horror stories, never seen actual oppression that this could bring. We’re all scared. We all don’t know what to do. Nobody has any answers or any control over the situation.

So they lash out. They attack others for drawing things they don’t like, for challenging them in literally any way, for asking them to reconsider the vile shit they just said, for so much as defending themselves from the harassment they just got. And when challenged, they yell “But I’m a minor! A literal child! How dare you attack me, clearly you get off on this, you evil pedophile!” and they sling around every insult in the book until one sticks. Pedophile is a pretty good one, so is abuser, and sometimes zoophile works out too. Freak is great, everyone gets right pissed off about it.

The fact that Category A queer elders were called pedophiles and freaks is not a fact they know or care about. The fact that they are quickly making every fandom community super toxic is also not a fact they care about. The fact that the ‘kin community has words and terminology and they actually mean shit, and the fact that they’re spreading misinformation faster than we can keep up with, are not facts they care about.

So they come in, take our terms, make it impossible for us to find new folks. They realize our anger is easily a power trip, because we’re already made fun of, so they get off on the little power they can find and make fun of us too, and then when we get rightfully annoyed and pissed off, they can hide behind being minors.

Then tumblr implements their porn ban, because nobody’s stopping them, because it isn’t profitable to have porn on here. Considering most of the otherkin community, and most fandom communities, are full of adults who do occasionally talk about NSFW things, and the fact that they’re just banning everyone who so much as breathes wrong, this begins the start of a mass exodus, scattering already fragile communities to twitter, pillowfort, dreamwidth, and a few other places. Largely, twitter, where you can’t make a post longer than a snappy comeback and where the algorithm is literally designed to piss you off as much as possible.

So community elders have largely left, because they can’t stand the drama and the pain of what’s happened, and that’s if they didn’t get banned for being kinky furries who do talk about how their kintypes merge with their sexuality. Most community members have also left or stopped talking about being ‘kin, because they get associated with antishippers and toxicity and it’s just not worth it. Those of us who are left get drowned out by misinformation and trolls and wishkin and antishippers who appropriate our terminology because it supports them getting a power trip, and whenever we argue, we get called pedophiles and freaks and worse.

And now there isn’t much left. I hope we get to find a better place. Othercon was a good place to talk about it, I did a whole panel (it’s on Youtube!) about what we want to do about it. But I don’t really have any answers. 

But to sum it all up... America’s political climate ultimately culminated in destroying queer spaces, and we survived, and then people who wanted to destroy smaller communities to get on top showed up and we were all but defenseless against something we had never, ever dealt with before on this scale.

One of my twitter mutuals mentioned how kinning and otherkin are now completely separate communities. It’s really the best I can do to keep hoping that continues, until nobody realizes the words are at all connected to each other. It’s the best anyone can hope for, now. I hate it. I hate every part of this. But maybe we can salvage what’s left.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

A-Yuan

-

Jin Ling was pretty cool, in Lan Yuan’s opinion, and he didn’t even feel the need to caveat it with the statement that it was as far as young brothers went.

He didn’t really remember a time when Jin Ling wasn’t around – he’d had a bad fever that had eaten away much of his early memories, leaving only a few vague faces and a smile and something that sometimes gives him nightmares he doesn’t quite remember, but since he’s a few years older than baby Jin Ling, that meant there must have been a time when Jin Ling wasn’t there.

Back before, before Hanguang-jun adopted him and before Sect Leader Jiang managed to win the right to raise Jin Ling, who was only his sister’s son, at his home – they wouldn’t have been brothers back then.

Lan Yuan didn’t like to think too much about before. It gave him a headache.

(Except when he thought about someone smiling -)

Anyway, before was one of the secrets. 

Lan Yuan knew all about secrets: he was extremely trustworthy, according to Hanguang-jun and even Sect Leader Jiang, a very mature and intelligent child who knew when and to whom to speak, and that meant he got to know all the cool secrets.

That meant it was his job to make sure Jin Ling kept the secrets, too.

“So, remember, what do we do when your grandmother comes to visit?” he asked encouragingly.

“Talk about her,” Jin Ling said obediently. He was a good kid, even if he had temper tantrums sometimes. “Don’t say anything about the Lotus Pier.”

“That’s right!” Lan Yuan cheered. “If you don’t talk about it, you can’t give any of the secrets away!”

Jin Ling nodded. “I’ll keep the secrets!” But then he frowned. “What are the secrets?”

“What do you mean? We know lots of secrets. Cool secrets!”

Well, some of the secrets were cool, anyway. The ones about how Zidian worked, and the hidden places in the walls, and some of the nasty stuff that Sect Leader Jiang said about the other sect leaders that no one was supposed to repeat and which made even the sailors look pretty impressed, and there was also the super-secret Yunmeng Jiang technique for getting fish to come up to you – it involved your toes and a lot of eye-rolling by Hanguang-jun.

According to Sect Leader Jiang, the eye-rolling was especially critical for it to work, but luckily they had Hanguang-jun for that; he was an expert.

(There was a secret, too, about Sect Leader Jiang’s shixiong and Hanguang-jun’s friend that they sometimes told stories about, the one called Wei Wuxian, and the secret was that that they both loved him even though he’d done bad things.)

Hanguang-jun was one of the secrets, too.

Lan Yuan wasn’t entirely sure why he was a secret, but it was very important that they not tell anyone that he was there. He’d gotten hurt really bad a few years back, really bad, bad enough that he hadn’t walked for a whole year and even after that couldn’t do much more than limp around with Sect Leader Jiang’s help. He ended up needing to learn the sword again the same way Lan Yuan did, except he got better at it a whole lot faster – it was because he was grown up, according to Sect Leader Jiang, and grown-ups had special cheating powers that let them do stuff like that super quick.

(Hanguang-jun said the only cheat was experience, but Lan Yuan preferred the cheating adult powers explanation.)

It was pretty cool to be trusted enough to know secrets, most of the time. The only time it wasn’t cool were times like this, when old Madame Jin came around and said mean things about Lan Yuan not being raised right and it being a pity that her beloved grandson was growing up with no father or mother to teach him.

It made Jin Ling cry whenever she said that, because it was the same thing the mean kids on the Pier used to say to him before Sect Leader Jiang had announced very loudly that he wasn’t so proud or dignified that he wouldn’t throw hands with small children if it made Jin Ling stop crying. It made Lan Yan  so angry because she was Jin Ling’s grandmother, shouldn’t she care if he was crying?

She didn’t, not really; she just snapped at him for being weak. She was mostly just angry about everything: about the fact that he was being raised by Sect Leader Jiang instead of at Lanling where no one wanted to take care of him; about the fact that she wasn’t powerful enough to have stopped that decision from getting made no matter what she tried; about the fact that he wasn’t old enough to do anything useful, as she termed it; about his parents being dead, which wasn’t his fault at all –

It was wrong, too. Jin Ling might not have a mother or father to teach him, but that didn’t matter because he had Hanguang-jun and Sect Leader Jiang instead; who needed any more than that?

But he couldn’t say that, because Hanguang-jun was a secret.

Still, it didn’t mean that Lan Yuan was going to put up with it. Not this time!

He put on his best Hanguang-jun face – neutral but with his eyebrows a little arched like he was asking a question that he sincerely wanted to know the answer to – and asked her: “Are you a hag or a night-witch? They take different talismans to be banished, so I need to know which one to get.”

It wasn’t as deadpan or witty as Hanguang-jun was when he was trying nor as vicious and cutting as Sect Leader Jiang when he was on a tear, but it did the trick, given that the trick was to get her to yell at him instead of bullying Jin Ling any longer.

Lan Yuan was tough: she meant nothing to him, so he was fine with being called a worthless bastard (he knew he wasn’t worthless, so odds were good that he probably wasn’t a bastard either) or a whore’s son (whatever a whore was, he was moderately sure Hanguang-jun had never met one), a waste of space (how could space be wasted?) or a disrespectful brat (possibly true, even though he normally thought of himself as being quite nice).

He wasn’t expecting her to slap him.

“Gege!” Jin Ling shrieked, horrified out of his tears as he rushed across the room to Lan Yuan’s side; he was on the floor somehow, he must have fallen when she hit him. “You can’t hit gege!”

“Don’t address him like that,” Madam Jin snapped. “Pull yourself together – you’re the heir to Lanling Jin, you don’t need to address some bastard as – ”

She was interrupted a crackling sound, like wood popping in the fire, and Lan Yuan automatically smiled, even though it hurt his mouth to do so.

No one lasted long at the Lotus Pier without knowing what Zidian sounded like.

Sect Leader Jiang’s face was as black as Lan Yuan had ever seen it, and that was saying something, given that Sect Leader Jiang preferred scowling to just about any other expression out there.

“Madame Jin,” he said, and she tensed, clearly gearing up for a fight. “Thank you for coming to visit.”

She blinked, clearly surprised – wondering why he wasn’t making a fuss, most likely. Lan Yuan licked the blood from his split lip with a grin and held Jin Ling’s hand in his: he knew better.

“It’s such a pity that you have to leave so soon,” Sect Leader Jiang continued.

“What are you talking about, I’m not –”

Zidian lashed out, leaving a burnt mark less than a hands’ breadth away from her head.

“It is your choice whether you leave by your own free will or get carried out of by my guards,” Sect Leader Jiang snarled, his cold anger abruptly igniting. “How dare you strike A-Yuan? How dare you strike any child? If you’ve dared laid hands on Jin Ling –”

“I would never,” she snapped, but she was backing away: Sect Leader Jiang’s reputation preceded him. “A-Ling is –”

“If you did that, I’d put you in my dungeons,” Sect Leader Jiang continued as if he couldn’t hear her. His eyes were red and bloodshot with rage. “Surely no one could hurt their own grandchild, their own blood. Perhaps you’ve been possessed? I’ve heard rumors of demonic cultivation near your maternal family’s home…”

There was a bit more bluster after that, but Madame Jin retreated quickly, and then she was flying away from the Lotus Pier as quick as she could go.

After all, everyone knew how bad Sect Leader Jiang was when it came to demonic cultivators – and what he supposedly did to them in his dungeons.

It was a little funny, actually, since as far as Lan Yuan knew, the Lotus Pier didn’t actually have dungeons at the moment; the old ones had long ago been repurposed as storerooms and no one had ever quite bothered to replace them. And though Sect Leader Jiang did question demonic cultivators in the storerooms, right next to the rice and beans, it wasn’t – what people said it was.

Lan Yuan wouldn’t have believed such horrible things about Sect Leader Jiang anyway, but as it happened he’d heard Sect Leader Jiang screaming about it when he and Hanguang-jun were having one of their fights. They didn’t fight often, not real fighting, and they were very good at trying to make sure neither he nor Jin Ling were around for them when they did, but A-Yuan had gotten up especially late that night because of a nightmare he couldn’t quite remember and he’d overheard them by accident.

(“Is that really what you think of me? That I disregard all morality, all righteousness, that I’m blinded by hatred, that I wanted – that I wanted him to – to –”

“No. I know you loved him.”

“It wasn’t him, at the end. It couldn’t have been him, he couldn’t – jiejie’s dead. Everyone’s dead. All corpses, all, everyone around me just marking time until they’re dead, too –”

“Jiang Cheng, calm down; your mind is becoming unstable. I should not have asked –”

“But they’re not wrong! I do hurt them, even when I don’t mean to, even when I let them go later. I’m not righteous, I’m not; I find them, I stop them, I take them from where they’re hurting people – someone has to – and what if they’re him? What do I do if they’re him? I question every one of them. No one else can do it, I have to – it’s my fault, it’s my – he wouldn’t have started down that path but for me –”

“Jiang Cheng –”

“So many people hurt because of me, stupid selfish me, and still all I care about is making sure that I’m the one to find him first, just like I said I’d be back at the siege. I have to be the first one to find him so that no one else can hurt him, because if they find him they will – but now I’m the one, I’m the one who hurts them instead and all because I don’t know – I can’t judge – I get so angry –”

“Calm yourself. This is not irresolvable: I will help you question them, to see if any of them are him, and when that is done, we will decide their fate together. The guilty treated as guilty, the innocent as innocent. Or do you doubt my judgment?”

“…only in terms of romance.” A breath. “That would work. Thank you.”)

The second Madame Jin was gone, Sect Leader Jiang was kneeling in front of Lan Yuan, touching his split lip lightly with his fingers, a distressed expression on his face. “I shouldn’t have let her come,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t have let her see you. I knew she was sensitive about children, ever since Lianfeng-zun fully eclipsed her in influence…you need a doctor.”

“I’m fine,” Lan Yuan protested, even as he was swept up into Sect Leader Jiang’s arms. “Sect Leader Jiang…”

“No. Doctor, now.”

“I don’t need it! It’s just a little thing – Hanguang-jun could fix it!”

“Fine. Then we’re going to see him.”

“Take me, too!” Jin Ling demanded, tugging at Sect Leader Jiang’s leg. “Jiujiu, take me! I don’t want to see grandmother again! She’s a bad lady! She hurt gege, and all he did was say she was a hag!”

“She made Jin Ling cry!” Lan Yuan exclaimed, hideously embarrassed. “I had to get her attention away from –”

“You did the right thing, A-Yuan,” Sect Leader Jiang said, scooping up Jin Ling and heading towards the inner quarters where Hanguang-jun would be waiting. “Never let anyone attack your family. No matter what. You hear me? No matter what.”

-

Lan Yuan had had four panic attacks, seven nightmares, and at least twelve rather uncharacteristic temper tantrums (mostly just persistent pouting) over having to go visit the Cloud Recesses, and he was starting to think that he’d overreacted.

The Cloud Recesses was, despite all his fears…actually pretty cool.

Kind of like Hanguang-jun had said all along. And Sect Leader Jiang had even agreed, albeit with his usual caveats and complaining – mostly about the food, and something about quizzes.

It was still scary, though. Lan Yuan had gone on trips outside of the Lotus Pier with Sect Leader Jiang and the other Jiang disciples (he still thought of himself as halfway a Jiang disciple, even though his surname was Lan and he was apparently part of the Lan sect now?), but that was all in Yunmeng except for that one trip he’d taken with Sect Leader Jiang to some place in Qishan that he’d thought was a great deal of fun but which had made Hanguang-jun ask Sect Leader Jiang for a moment of his time in a way that meant Sect Leader Jiang was about to get a very stern talking to, and after that they hadn’t gone again.

This time, though, he wasn’t just going for a single visit, there and back again on Sandu; he was going for a whole month – maybe even a whole season if he liked the first month, but he’d already secretly decided he wouldn’t. Sect Leader Jiang would be there at the beginning, but he couldn’t stay for very long, and of course Hanguang-jun couldn’t go at all.

“For now,” Sect Leader Jiang had told him as they were flying, Lan Yuan held in his arms like he was Jin Ling even though he was old enough to stand on Sandu by himself as long as he was holding onto someone. Sect Leader Jiang had insisted, though, and Lan Yuan was shamefully grateful for it. “In the future, Hanguang-jun will be able to go with you and stay here while you’re here.”

“Really?” Lan Yuan had said, eyes wide. He’d never gone on a trip with Hanguang-jun before, first because he was injured and then because he was a secret, so that would be a brand-new experience – wait. “You didn’t say anything about future trips!”

Sect Leader Jiang had coughed, except it sounded a bit like laughter. “Nothing’s been decided,” he’d said. “We need to see if you’ll even like the place. If you don’t, well, there’s precedent for clan members joining other sects, and of course the Jiang sect would be happy to have you.”

That had been a relief.

Possibly it had been the relief of knowing he wasn’t going to get stuck there – sent away again – that had let him relax and start exploring the new place, which was nice and gentle and quiet in a way the Lotus Pier really wasn’t, except maybe for Hanguang-jun’s rooms…

Wait.

Lan Yuan turned and narrowed his eyes at Sect Leader Jiang. “Is this where the secret is from?” he demanded.

There was another cough-laugh, this time from Uncle Lan Xichen, who was apparently actually called Zewu-jun or else Sect Leader Lan; he’d come out with them to show them around. “The secret?” he asked Sect Leader Jiang, his eyebrows arched.

“He’s a child! They talk unless they’re told a reason not to, so we came up with a reason. I’m not sure what you were expecting us to do,” Sect Leader Jiang said, crossing his arms with a huff. “Put your brother in seclusion and deny him access to his son until he could walk again?”

Sect Leader Lan winced briefly. “I meant no offense, Sect Leader Jiang. It was only that I hadn’t realized how much effort went into keeping – into ensuring Wangji’s privacy.”

“A-Yuan was the easy one,” Sect Leader Jiang said, long-suffering. “When Jin Ling started talking…there’s no reasoning with a one-year-old. At least no one ever figured out who ‘ha-ju’ was.”

Sect Leader Lan abruptly stopped walking and raised a hand to his head, as if suffering from a sudden headache. “The Discussion Conference! When he kept reaching out to me, wanting me to hold him, and then crying when I did…!”

Sect Leader Jiang snickered. “He kicked Sect Leader Jin in the face trying to get to you,” he said in the tone of someone who enjoyed the memory very much. “A good kid.”

Lan Yuan nodded. Jin Ling was, in fact, a very good kid. Even his temper tantrums were getting more and more under control, which was inevitable under Hanguang-jun’s iron fist – if he could get Sect Leader Jiang to stop having so many temper tantrums, Jin Ling didn’t stand a chance.

No one did. Hanguang-jun could do anything.

Sect Leader Lan shook his head. “I can still scarcely believe it,” he murmured. “It seems – ah.”

“Ah?” Sect Leader Jiang echoed.

“It appears that Uncle has returned earlier than I had expected.”

“…you know what, I think I have some paperwork I need to get to,” Sect Leader Jiang said, which was probably both true and a sign that this ‘Uncle’ was either very scary or very annoying. “A-Yuan, act cute.”

Lan Yuan obediently arranged a pleasant smile on his face and widened his eyes.

“A very fine skill,” Sect Leader Lan praised, though his lips were twitching. “Come along, Sizhui; I’ll introduce you to Jingyi – I think you’ll get along.”

Lan Jingyi turned out to be a small scarecrow of a boy, too tall for his age and skinny to boot, and they sized each other up for a good while before Lan Jingyi broke out into a gap-toothed grin and said, “Wanna play?”

Lan Jingyi, Lan Yuan decided shortly thereafter, was awesome.

They ran around the Cloud Recesses (walked at speed, since running was forbidden), played with the rabbits and the birds, tumbled through the vegetable gardens as an obstacle course –

“And that’s just today!” Lan Jingyi crowed. “Wait until tomorrow when we have more time, Sizhui; I’ll show you the mountain, it’s really cool!”

Lan Jingyi, like Lan Yuan, didn’t have parents anymore, having misplaced them during the war like so many others had. He confirmed that sometimes the other children made comments about it – Lan Yuan wasn’t surprised – but also that most of them were too afraid of Teacher Lan to do much more than that, and that was moderately comforting.

Teacher Lan, apparently, was Lan Jingyi’s version of Hanguang-jun, and they sounded very similar in some ways, enough that Lan Yuan was giggling in sympathy and fellow-feeling.

He didn’t mean to slip up.

It was when they were dropping stones down a well. They’d just celebrated a particularly loud plop that had made Lan Yuan scold the rock for violating the rule against excess noise, much to Lan Jingyi’s laughter, and then Lan Jingyi said, pretty casually, “They don’t usually teach Lan sect rules outside of the Cloud Recesses, especially not with the clan-specific flourishes. So who taught you?”

Lan Yuan’s back went straight with fear. “I – no one.”

Lan Jingyi blinked at him. Probably because that was a terrible lie.

Probably because Lan Yuan didn’t like lying.

Lying is forbidden.

Hanguang-jun said so.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Lan Yuan said hurriedly. “It’s a secret. You have to promise not to tell!”

“But why is it a secret?” Lan Jingyi asked bemusedly. “You’re a Lan; it makes sense that you’d know the Lan rules.”

“Just promise,” Lan Yuan said. “Promise, and I’ll tell you.”

Lan Jingyi’s shout when he told him was loud enough to scare away all the rabbits.  

Maybe it had been mean to make Lan Jingyi promise to keep something a secret from Teacher Lan, especially since he was his version of Hanguang-jun, because Lan Yuan wouldn’t be able to keep anything a secret from Hanguang-jun, not even if he promised.

Sect Leader Jiang, maybe, if it was something nice to surprise him with – but not Hanguang-jun.

That was probably why he wasn’t really that surprised when Lan Jingyi showed up to his door with a guilty expression and threw himself at his feet to beg forgiveness, or why when he ran back to the place where he was staying with Sect Leader Jiang he found all the adults shouting at each other.

“What do we do?” Lan Jingyi asked, his eyes wet with tears as he showed him a little hiding place that let them hear everything the adults were saying without getting caught. “I’ve never seen them this angry…you’re not supposed to yell inside the Cloud Recesses!”

“It’s okay,” Lan Yuan decided after watching for a little. He might not know Teacher Lan at all, and Sect Leader Lan not so great either no matter how much he looked like Hanguang-jun, but he knew Sect Leader Jiang very well and his face wasn’t nearly red enough to make him worry. If anything, he almost looked – pleased? Was he deliberately causing trouble? And after all those lectures about not starting anything…

Hmm, on second thought, most of those lectures had been from Hanguang-jun, and Hanguang-jun had been glaring over his head the entire time. Maybe they hadn’t been aimed at him at all.

“What do you mean that it’s okay? They’re fighting!”

“It’s a good type of fighting,” Lan Yuan explained wisely. “This is the sort of fighting that adults do when they have too many feelings and they can’t keep them all inside, so they have to throw them at each other instead.”

“…really?”

“Really. Sect Leader Jiang has a lot of those. They just need to wear themselves out.” At least, he thought so – that was what they did during Jin Ling’s tantrums. “Come on, let’s leave them to it; they’re not saying anything interesting, anyway.”

(“- have no right to refuse to tell us that he was hiding Wangji!”

“But Master Lan, how was I to know you were looking for him? After all, no one ever said – it was all just causal hellos and have-you-seen-any-Lan-sect-recently, never saying anything directly. And all the rumors said he was in seclusion.”

“Sophistry. You knew he wasn’t!”

“I did. I also knew that his sect didn’t seem to care enough about his well-being, after thirty-three strikes with the discipline whip, to actually bother to ask.”

“You -! I should think you of all people, Sect Leader Jiang, would understand our need to make sure he would never again be deceived by the likes of Wei Wuxian –”

“If you dare speak his name again in my presence, Master Lan, I will forget that you were once my teacher. Mark your words!”)

By the next morning, Teacher Lan had a stiff expression, Sect Leader Lan an exhausted one, and Sect Leader Jiang a distinct resemblance to a cat that has just left a corpse on the floor to show off its hunting prowess.

“Looks like I’m definitely staying here the full season,” Lan Yuan told Lan Jingyi, who looked so delighted by the idea that it almost made him feel okay about it. “Now it’s a principle.”

“A principle like our sect rules?”

“No, the type of principle where you want to show that you’re right and other people are wrong.”

Specifically, the type where Sect Leader Jiang got to stand up for Hanguang-jun’s honor, and honestly. If they’d only just told Lan Yuan that that was what they were doing, he would’ve agreed to come ages ago! He wants to defend Hanguang-jun, too!

“Oh. You mean gloating?”

Lan Yuan concealed a smile. It seemed like the Cloud Recesses really wasn’t a bad place after all.

-

Lan Yuan was not supposed to be here, but in his defense, it was totally an accident.

He’d been playing hide-and-seek with Lan Jingyi and some of the other juniors, and no one actually said the hanshi was off-limits. Sect Leader Jiang had always encouraged him to try to think beyond the rules (while Hanguang-jun just looked long-suffering), to not make assumptions about what was and wasn’t allowed, to press his limits until he figured out what he could and couldn’t do for himself.

And then, once he knew, to attempt the impossible.

He’d known that Sect Leader Lan was busy for most of the day with meetings – so why not hide in the hanshi? How was he supposed to know that Sect Leader Lan’s sworn brothers would come in to wait for him there?

Maybe if they’d come in slowly he would have just popped out of his hiding place, apologized, saluted, and scampered, but instead the doors had just burst open and Chifeng-zun strode in, closely followed by Lianfeng-zun, and they were already mid-conversation. It would have been rude to interrupt!

“- can’t decide if I want to thank him or wring his neck,” Chifeng-zun was saying. “But regardless of the conclusion, I’m not going to do either, and neither are you. It’s not our place.”

“I wasn’t suggesting any serious damage,” Lianfeng-zun said, starting to make tea. “A few minor irritations, at most; a trade dispute or two, possibly an inciting incident –”

“Meng Yao. We’ve talked about this.”

“I suppose we have. It’s only…” His voice trailed off.

Chifeng-zun sighed. “I know. Seeing Xichen break down like that was –” He waved his hand, looking for the word. “Horrific. I thought he was having a qi deviation.”

“It would have been easier if it had been something physical or to do with his cultivation,” Lianfeng-zun said. “Something a doctor could have helped, or the Song of Clarity – something, so that we wouldn’t be left doing nothing, nothing but waiting to see if he would die of grief. The way he clung to us both, what he said…well. Wounds of the heart and mind run deep, and the scars last long.”

“As we both know,” Chifeng-zun said, and his voice was a little dry.

Lianfeng-zun chuckled. “As we both know indeed. I must admit, I never expected to reconcile with you in this lifetime.”

“I’m still convinced in retrospect that you were planning on murdering me somehow,” Chifeng-zun said, not sounding as upset as he probably should have been about something like that. “I appreciate your restraint on Xichen’s behalf – and your lack of it when we joined together to search for Wangji.”

“Mm. That came as a surprise, to be honest. I thought da-ge would object to such…viciousness.”

“How was I to know you would have such strange assumptions? Being vicious, and even being petty, are not mutually exclusive with being righteous – and anyway, I like you much better now that I know what you’re like, and can formulate my expectations accordingly. It was always the hypocrisy and lies I despised the most; I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out on your own.”

“Da-ge has always been impossible for me to read,” Lianfeng-zun said, and his voice was strangely – scolding?

Chifeng-zun certainly seemed to take it as such. “I have hobbies! It was war; I just didn’t have time for them, that’s all. Anyway, having hobbies doesn’t necessarily entail having vices.”

“Unlike some other people of our mutual acquaintance,” and now it was Lianfeng-zun’s turn to be dry.

“I didn’t say it, you did. Anyway, returning to the subject of other sect leaders of our mutual acquaintance, I’m still shocked that Sect Leader Jiang kept up the lie as long as he did.”

“I know. I hate to speak badly about him, but he’s normally a terrible liar – his face goes red, he scowls more than usual, he averts his eyes…every single possible indication of untruthfulness. I would never think that he’d be able to keep a secret of this magnitude.”

“A lesson in underestimating people, I suppose.”

They sat in quiet silence for a little while longer, and then Lianfeng-zun poured the tea.

Lan Yuan contemplated escape, but really it was far too late to leave with dignity. They weren’t wrong about Sect Leader Jiang being a terrible liar, so Lan Yuan wasn’t angry or anything, but they’d probably be embarrassed that he overheard them talking about him at all.

“They’ll need a way to get out of it,” Lianfeng-zun said. “I’m not sure they realize that, yet.”

“Get out of it?” Chifeng-zun asked. “What do you mean?”

“As far as the majority of the cultivation world knows, Hanguang-jun has been in seclusion here, in the Cloud Recesses, for much of the past three years. During those same three years, Hanguang-jun’s adopted son has been living, quite publicly in the Lotus Pier – no one knows he’s Hanguang-jun’s now, of course, but if he reveals that he is, how does he explain the child having been there rather than here? Wouldn’t one or another of the sects have to admit the deception, and thereby lose face?”

Chifeng-zun considered the issue for a moment, then huffed. “You’re overthinking it. It’s not that hard problem to solve.”

Lan Yuan, who had started to enter full-fledged panic at the realization that they might have, in fact, messed everything up horribly and all because of him, calmed a little and tried to peer further around the edge of the screen he was hiding behind, eager to hear the solution.

Lianfeng-zun looked equally intrigued. “Well, then, da-ge – don’t leave we simple-minded persons in suspense.”

“As if you’ve ever been simple-minded.”

“Da-ge. Don’t play coy.”

Chifeng-zun chuckled and drank his tea, casually malicious, but then put it down on the table. “Easy enough. They just need to have a fight.”

“A fight?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t they fight? After all, with Hanguang-jun having finally emerged from seclusion, don’t you think he would be furious to discover that the son he gave his name to was being kept away from his family at the Lotus Pier?”

“I think I see your point,” Lianfeng-zun said, starting to smile. “When he retreated into seclusion, he undoubtedly understood that the boy would be delivered to the Cloud Recesses to be raised as a proper Lan, but instead he was kept back at the Lotus Pier –”

“Presumably Sect Leader Jiang made some sort of commitment to the mother that he didn’t feel he could break.”

“And naturally, since the father of the child was not present, there was no way for the Lan sect to claim him.”

“Of course. Especially when we are all in the midst of rebuilding – who would want to start trouble? But now that Wangji is out again…”

Lianfeng-zun laughed. “Doesn’t that result in the boy coming to the Cloud Recesses permanently? I was under the impression he didn’t want that.”

“Are you suggesting that they rob the boy of the only home he’s known?” Chifeng-zun pretended to scold. “Nonsense. Some calmer mind, likely belonging to a sect that is neither of the two in question - and not me -”

“Well, you did say calmer.”

“Someone will have to prevail with a compromise: a division of time between the two places.”

Lianfeng-zun smiled. “I think I see the direction in which you’re going – that’s the same sort of argument that could be used to allow Sect Leader Jiang to retain partial custody of A-Ling once he gets old enough that his return to Koi Tower is required, isn’t it?”

“Precisely.”

Lan Yuan somehow hadn’t thought about Jin Ling having to go back to Koi Tower – in Lanling, which was really far away – and it’s probably his distress at the idea that makes him lean forward a little too far and tip over the screen with a giant crash.

Both men turned to stare at him.

“Uh,” he said, and promptly dropped into a low bow, bringing his hands up in salute. “Sorry for the disturbance! Have a nice day!”

He ran.

(There was laughter behind him.)

-

“You – abandoner of responsibilities! Scum! Bad person!”

Hanguang-jun’s eye twitched. “Jiang Wanyin. I know you can do better than that.”

“Oooh, he’s pulled out the courtesy name,” Lan Yuan whispered to Sect Leader Lan, who was doing a very good job of not laughing out loud but it looked a little like it hurt. His shoulders were shaking and there were tears in his curved-smile eyes. “You know he’s serious now.”

Sect Leader Lan had to put his sleeve in his mouth to muffle the snickering. Jin Ling didn’t quite understand what was going on, but he was giggling quite openly, and that wasn’t helping either.

“I’m trying, okay,” Sect Leader Jiang complained. “It just feels weird, that’s all.”

“You fight all the time,” Jiang Meimei, one of the clan disciples that assisted Sect Leader Jiang with administration, said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not even exaggerating. How can this be hard?”

“We fight over reasonable things,” Sect Leader Jiang argued. “Like him being a snob, or persnickety, or having terrible taste in any number of things, up to and including seasonings –”

“Preferring to have intact taste buds is a reasonable preference.”

“Coward. Afraid of a little chili pepper.”

“That one can do something is not a reason to do it.”

“Is that a Lan sect rule? ‘Refrain from fun’ as the general rule, for everything else see the list of exceptions?”

“I believe the point Deputy Jiang was attempting to make was that this is more along the lines of what we were expecting,” Sect Leader Lan put in. “Perhaps a slightly more aggravated version…?”

“Oh, I can do aggravated,” Sect Leader Jiang said, which in Lan Yuan’s opinion was stating the obvious. “But even I have trouble working up a temper about Lan Wangji, of all people, abandoning some poor woman with a child he’d promised to take care of, which may or may not be his – it’s just not plausible.”

“What part,” Hanguang-jun said dryly, “the abandonment or the woman?”

“Both? Both.”

“While I don’t disagree with your assessment of Wangji’s character, that isn’t the point at the moment,” Sect Leader Lan said, his eyes sharp and interested – he’d looked up suddenly when Sect Leader Jiang had called Hanguang-jun by name, as if he were studying Hanguang-jun’s reaction. There wasn’t one, of course; Sect Leader Jiang had long ago fallen into the habit of calling Hanguang-jun by name, and Hanguang-jun returned the favor – albeit with Sect Leader Jiang’s given name, which everyone used instead of his courtesy name. Unless he was in front of other people, or else being especially sarcastic. “Perhaps you can think of some angle which would work for you?”

“Like what?”

“Well – A-Yao had a suggestion, but I don’t know if it would work.”

“Can’t be worse than this,” Jiang Meimei opined. “No one’ll believe Hanguang-jun for a scum no matter how loudly Sect Leader Jiang yells.”

Sect Leader Lan smiled and nodded, looking proud. He was Hanguang-jun’s big brother, so it made sense. “A-Yao suggested that Sect Leader Jiang consider it as Wangji having promised him something – to assist in caring for A-Yuan alongside him, perhaps – and having then defaulted in favor of something he preferred more, such as leaving to enter seclusion at the Cloud Recesses.”

Sect Leader Jiang’s shoulders abruptly went tense. “Not a bad suggestion,” he said, and his voice was strained as if he were forcing himself to be calm. “But Lan Wangji wouldn’t do that, either.”

“But if you pretend –”

“I would not,” Hanguang-jun said firmly. “I would not violate any vow I have taken, regardless of the recipient of that vow.”

Sect Leader Jiang’s shoulders relaxed a little.

“I do not believe that additional sincerity is helpful in this instance,” Hanguang-jun continued, folding his hands behind his back. “The goal is not to simulate a real argument, but to spread the understanding that there was an argument – wouldn’t a spar in public be sufficient, with explanations to be provided later?”

Sect Leader Jiang tilted his head to the side, looking intrigued. “So, what, you emerge from seclusion, talk to Sect Leader Lan for a bit to ‘find out’ about A-Yuan, then fly straight to the Lotus Pier and attack me without saying anything?”

Hanguang-jun nodded.

“That would be in character for a stone-face like you. And if you really put effort into it, I wouldn’t have time to be shouting out insults left and right.”

“It would confuse people,” Sect Leader Lan agreed, sounding thoughtful. “They would seek out anyone with knowledge, and we could plant some people to gossip appropriately…afterwards, once the information is widely known, we can have Mingjue-xiong or maybe A-Yao - they’re still fighting over who - well, one of them will announce that he was consulted as a neutral third party and that the matter is now resolved, with Wangji returning alongside A-Yuan to the Cloud Recesses for at least a season each year, and remaining at the Lotus Pier to supervise his education during the remaining months.”

“Acceptable,” Hanguang-jun said.

“Is it?” Sect Leader Jiang asked, looking at him. “Not to reverse course and go worry about the exact opposite thing I was worrying about just before, but, well. You know that it wouldn’t be hard to push for you to stay here all year, if you prefer, right? After all, I’m known for being unreasonable…”

Hanguang-jun shook his head. “A-Yuan should have the background to which he is entitled. A few months out of the year are an acceptable sacrifice.”

Sect Leader Lan bowed his head, looking a little sad, but nodded. “Moreover, if Wangji is truly unhappy in the Cloud Recesses, we can adjust the agreement going forward,” he said. “Attention will likely only be paid for the first year or two – thereafter, Wangji can reside wherever he prefers.”

“I will not remain at the Cloud Recesses,” Hanguang-jun said to Sect Leader Jiang, his eyes steady, and Sect Leader Jiang scowled in a way that was almost a smile. “It was my home once, but no longer – but it will be pleasant to visit it.”

“As long as you remember that it’s just a visit,” Sect Leader Jiang grumbled. “All right, I’m signed on. Let’s do it.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

You’re Not Alone

heartwitchhouse request: Hey uh.. can I get Logan introducing Thomas to neurodivergent communities online?

Sure you can, babe! Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3  

Pairings: none

Warnings: also...none? there’s some discussion on having anxiety, depresion, and ADHD with some self-doubt but it’s not that bad

Word Count: 2899

It’s just a little off.

 It’s not like it’s some big obvious thing that his parents immediately took notice of. It’s not something his doctor noted on his sheet and made sure to talk about. It’s not even something one of his teachers gently pulled him aside for.

 It’s just…not quite right.

He knows that his classmates don’t struggle to stare at the board or their work for like…three minutes at a time, but he also knows one of his classmates who can’t do it for three seconds. He knows the others don’t lapse into gray hazes where doing literally anything feels like an insurmountable force, but he also knows the kids that can’t even come to school on certain days.

 He knows people who are better, but he also knows people who are worse.

 He has good days. Great days. Great weeks, even. It’s just…sometimes he’ll have a bad day and he can’t help but look at everybody else who’s having a worse day.

 And here’s the thing. He knows how to work through it.

 He can put his head down and just get things done. It doesn’t matter that he can’t focus for more than three minutes, he’ll do the work he can in those three minutes and then move onto something else. Maybe he’ll get to cycle back and pick it up again later. He can shake his head to clear it and squint at his work again, just to finish this one page through the haze. He can make it.

 But it’s just that; making it.

 He can’t deny the way the polite smile from his teachers settles heavily in the pit of his stomach saying that yeah, he did fine, but he could’ve done better. The way the list of things he needs to do gets checked off by just the bare minimum, something he’s going to have to redo in just a few days, makes his hands itch. The insecurities over all the things he could have done, could have done better, all the things he’s missed, pile up in his brain until he has to shove them all away just to breathe on bad days. But doesn’t everyone struggle with insecurity now and then? This is normal, right?

 Or is it just a little off?

 “Oh, I’m sure you’d feel better if you just exercised more! Get yourself a workout schedule, there’s no better free therapy!”

 Running makes his chest feel like it’s going to explode. His arms and legs ache after the first round of whatever ��beginner’ program he decides to try once. The gray haze only flourishes, steady as ever on bad days.

 “Just focus on your studies, I’m sure once you’ve got more structure in your life it’ll help you feel better, sweetie.”

 Work pounds into his head and he gets it done. All the things he could’ve done better stay there too, bold and bright on the page next to red slashes of ink. He puts his head down and goes, goes, goes. That doesn’t help the bad days, it just pushes them off. Then they get worse.

 “Maybe you just need to go outside more often, sunlight can do wonders for you!”

 Listen. He and the sun have an agreement. The sun doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like the sun. It’s better if they just…stay out of each other’s way. He could do without the achy headaches the bright light gives him.

 “Are you sure you’re drinking enough water? Are you eating the right stuff?”

 His budget quickly becomes strained with the amount of ‘healthy food’ he’s supposed to buy. The piles of ‘proper ingredients’ sit in his cabinet, unused, taunting him with how difficult it’ll be to figure out how to eat them. The guilt over not using them worries at his throat as he’s forced to toss them out as they go bad. He gets raised eyebrows from everyone with how often he has to go to the bathroom. The ensuing doctor’s visit is one he’d rather not repeat any time soon, even though at that point it’s just…you know those days where you’re like ‘this might as well happen? Adult life is already so goddamn weird?’

 “At least you can get out of bed most days. You seemed fine yesterday!”

 …yesterday was yesterday. And just because he got out of bed doesn’t mean anything. It wasn’t really a conscious choice, he just…had to do it.

 “You’re not nearly as bad as—“

 You know, it doesn’t really matter who they put at the end of that. The point is he’s not as bad as other people. So he doesn’t get the support that they get.

 He doesn’t get the polite nods from professors when he needs an extension. He doesn’t get the medication prescribed to him for something that he shouldn’t need because he’s ‘healthy.’ When he finally tries therapy, the therapist compliments him on how easily he’s able to hold a conversation, maintain eye contact, and asks him if he’s tried keeping a diary.

 During the nights when he can’t sleep, when the blankets feel way too rough, like sleeping on sandpaper that rubs persistently at his skin, he tosses and turns and thinks…would it be better if…

 Would it be better if it were worse?

 If it were more obvious, if he actually had depression, anxiety, ADHD, something with a name that people could recognize, or even just the freedom to say he had something…would that be better?

 He doesn’t cry every day. He can still feel things most of the time. He eats. He drinks water. He sleeps. He goes outside. He doesn’t get high or drink or do anything to try and numb the pain or escape it. He doesn’t have suicidal thoughts.

 But it still feels like he’s not quite right.

 If he were worse…people would be more sympathetic. He wouldn’t be accused of milking anything for attention. He wouldn’t get scolded for making light of other people’s problems. He wouldn’t be faking it. Is he faking it? Is he blowing it up out of proportion?

 Is it really as bad as he thinks it is?

 He finds the perfect metaphor almost by accident. He’s over at a friend’s house one day and they’re in the kitchen, getting hot chocolate to drink before starting their movie night. He opens the cupboard and pulls out a mug with flowers all over it. As he turns to give it to his friend, he notices a chip in the rim.

 “Oh, oh gosh, I, um, I’m sorry—“

 “What? What’s wrong?” His friend takes the mug from his stuttering hands and squints at it. Her brow smooths out and she laughs. “Oh, are you worried about the chip?”

 “…yeah. I don’t—I don’t think I did it?”

 “You didn’t,” she says easily, filling it with hot milk, “it’s always been like that.”

 “Oh, okay.” The black fuzzy things buzzing about his head settle at that as he leans back against the counter, ready to accept the mug of hot chocolate. It’s warm, pleasantly so, sending a rush of contentment up his arms as he cups his palms around it. “Where’s yours?”

 “I’m almost done!”

 He looks back down at the hot chocolate, shimmering brown with the kitchen light’s reflection. Tilting his head, he examines the chip in the ceramic. It’s not that big, barely noticeable, but there’s a sharp edge on the inside. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t drink from that side. Wouldn’t do to burn his tongue and accidentally cut his lip.

 “Alright! I’m ready, let’s—ah!”

 Her yelp startles him out of whatever hot-chocolate-drinking-planning haze he’d been in, only to see his friend staring at the floor with her hands over her mouth.

 “Hey, whoa, are you okay? What happened?”

 “I, um—“ oh, no, she sounds so upset, let’s help her!— “I dropped my mug.”

 Sure enough, as he hustles around the counter, he sees the broken mug, lying on the floor, hot chocolate spilling mockingly from the remains. He sets his mug—carefully!—on the counter, looking around for the paper towels.

 “Did you get hurt?”

 “What?” Her gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “No, no, it’s just…that was my favorite mug.”

 A horrible sadness settles in his chest as he looks at her and he gently knocks their elbows. “It looks like it’s still got some pretty big pieces, we could…maybe we could fix it?”

 “You came over here to watch movies, not to fix my mug.”

 “We can do both, can’t we?”

 So there they end up, with the lights on, newspaper spread on the floor, hot glue gun, superglue, carefully piecing together broken ceramic as Finding Nemo plays in the background. By the time the seagulls are all racing around the screen, frantically yelling ‘mine!’ they’ve set the now-fixed mug gingerly on the counter, out of harm’s way, and cleaned up all the spilled hot chocolate. As the night creeps on, their eyes growing heavier and heavier, they make it through Mulan, The Princess and the Frog, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. Just before they start The Black Cauldron, his friend gently taps the side of the mug.

 “…I think it’s fixed!”

 “Wait, really? That was fast!”

 “Dude, it was like…at least six hours ago.”

 “Is that how fast superglue sets?”

 “Have you never used superglue before?”

 “Hey!”

 The sight of his friend with her favorite mug cradled in her lap makes him smile as he turns his attention back to the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her talking softly to herself, saying how she promises to be more careful next time, how she’s so happy the mug is fixed, it’ll be better now, stronger this time. And yet she still cradles the cracked, seamed thing with the same tenderness she did when they first picked up the pieces.

 He looks back down at the chipped mug in his lap. The chip is so small. It’s barely noticeable. It doesn’t make the mug leak or anything. The mug still works as a mug.

 He runs his thumb over the rim, feeling just the slightest pressure when he runs over the chip. If he tried to drink from that side, it would hurt.

 She’s had this mug for…years?

 He looks back over at the mug in his friend’s lap.

 The broken mug gets fixed.

 The chipped mug stays chipped forever.

  “Thomas?”

 Thomas blinks, looking up from his lap to see Logan standing next to him. Logan adjusts his tie.

 “You took a moment to respond.”

 “Sorry. Did we, uh, are we late for something? Did I miss a deadline?”

 There’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it expression that flitters across Logan’s face. Then he adjusts his glasses and it’s gone. Thomas frowns.

 “…you okay, bud? What was that?”

 “What was what, Thomas?”

 “You, uh, you made a face.”

 “I have a face, Thomas, we all have faces.”

 “But you made an expression.”

 “…I believe I am…incapable of not making an expression.”

 “Logan,” Thomas sighs, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

 Well, he certainly takes him by surprise at any rate. Logan glances around—is he worried the others are going to show up?—and adjusts his glasses again.

 “I suppose I was…perturbed,” he settles on finally, “that your immediate assumption when I appeared was that I was going to…reprimand you in some way.”

 Oh. “Jeez, um, sorry, Logan, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 Logan waves him off. “It’s quite alright.”

 “But…no, it’s not.” Thomas shakes his head. “You…we gotta talk about this…more, but that’s not the only thing you’re important for. You know that, right?”

 …well, Logan’s certainly making a face now. It’s the same one he made after Remus first appeared, after Thomas called him ‘cool.’ After a moment of savoring Logan looking a little flustered, he prompts him gently.

 “Did you wanna talk about something?”

 “Right,” Logan says quickly, shaking himself, “do you remember our conversation about neurodivergent communities?”

 Right. They’d been talking about trying to find therapists during COVID and how it would be difficult since, y’know…going outside is more than kind of a no-no. Virgil had brought up how it’s almost impossible to get a good read on whether or not a therapist would be appropriate for them without a proper appointment, which…kind of led to everyone agreeing that maybe it would be better to try just the texting one first. Logan had mentioned trying to find a group of people to talk to, not just a single person, until Janus said something about not knowing how to navigate something like that.

 Not one of their more productive conversations.

 “Since your desire to try and see a therapist seems to have stagnated,” Logan says as Thomas nods, “I have found an alternative solution that I believe might be more suited to your current approach to your mental health problems.”

 “I don’t—Logan, I don’t have—“

 The look Logan levels at him is enough to get him to shush.

 “What’s the solution?”

 “One of the main obstacles for finding a therapist or seeking help in a group setting was an unawareness of how to properly navigate those dynamics, correct?” Thomas nods. “Then it seems that a solution would be to simply find a group where you do understand the dynamics, yes?”

 “…how do I do that?” Thomas scruffs a hand through his hair. “I—look, I…I get that I should talk to someone, we made that clear but it’s just—I don’t—“

 Logan waits patiently, his head tilted slightly, as Thomas struggles for words.

 “…it’s not that bad,” Thomas says lamely.

 “But we’ve established that—“

 “I know, I know,” Thomas groans, burying his head in his hands, “but it’s just like—I don’t think I belong there.”

 “Why not?”

 “Isn’t that for people who have it worse?”

 There must be some note of hysteria in that last word because Logan blinks and eases himself down onto the couch next to him, folding his hands in his lap and waiting patiently. When it’s clear Thomas isn’t going to be able to make words go for a while, he clears his throat.

 “You don’t want to join a space in which you are not welcome, correct?”

 Thomas nods miserably.

 “This idea that you will not be welcome stems from the idea that your problems are not…severe enough?”

 “Aren’t they?”

 “Why must they be more severe for you to seek help?”

 “I don’t know, I just—what if they think I’m faking?”

 “Are you?”

 That’s the kicker, isn’t it? When Thomas looks helplessly at Logan, uncertainty probably written plainly all over his face, Logan tilts his head.

 “If you have to ask whether or not you’re faking,” he says in a soft voice Thomas rarely hears, “it’s almost certain that you are not.”

 Thomas just nods dumbly.

 “Mental illnesses can manifest in a variety of ways,” Logan continues in that same soft voice—and anyone who says Logan doesn’t understand emotion can get out—“and you do not have to fulfill a certain standard of ‘bad’ in order to seek help.”

 “But then how do I find people to—who will—who are gonna—“

 “…understand?”

 “Yeah.”

 Logan’s mouth quirks up. “When was the last time you were on Tumblr?”

 Thomas blinks. “Excuse me? Also don’t you know that?”

 “I do.” Logan gestures to Thomas’s phone. “You wanted a space where you understand how to interact with people and where talking about these types of things will not be a drastic breach of boundaries, yes?”

 “…yeah?”

 “You would be surprised at the amount of neurodivergent communities online.”

 “So why’re you asking me about Tumblr?” The second it comes out of his mouth Thomas’s eyes widen. “Logan—“

 “I am not suggesting that be your only source of help, by any means,” Logan says quickly, “but it might serve as a good starting point. You know what is to be expected from Tumblr—relatively speaking,” he corrects when Thomas makes a face, “and it will help you see that, despite what you may think, you’re not alone.”

 Logan stands, giving Thomas one last look before he sinks out.

 “…and you don’t have to be grateful it isn’t worse, Thomas.”

 Thomas looks down at his phone. He opens the app and types something into the search bar.

 Logan was right. People…people talk about stuff on Tumblr. Admittedly, it’s Tumblr, so it’s an absolute hellsite, but there is something a little reassuring about being able to just…word vomit into a post and see other people doing the same.

  Friendly reminder that people’s symptoms are gonna manifest in different ways and you’re not allowed to judge someone who experiences something different than you

  REMINDED THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO GRATEFUL THAT THINGS AREN’T WORSE WE DO NOT PLAY THE PAIN OLYMPICS IN THIS HOUSE

  You’re not alone.

 He’s still gonna have to figure out how to find a therapist. He’s still gonna have to figure out how to talk about this kind of stuff.

But for now, he can sit here and scroll and realize that there are words he can use to describe these things and it finally might start feeling right.

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