dont go crying

So what? You had a bad semester. You gained some weight. So what? You’re single again. You lost your job. So what? What now? You live. You try again. That’s what.
—  never give up
dear girl meets world,

thank you. thank you for showing us real life. thank you for going places we never thought a disney show would/ 

thank you for giving us riley, forever bright and optimistic. her love for her friends and family is inspiring.

thank you for giving us maya, and showing that being broken and damaged doesn’t make you unlovable. i hope to have her strength.

thank you for giving us lucas, the stereotypical jock who turned out to be so much more.

thank you for giving us farkle, who showed us that being quirky and smart shouldn’t make you an outcast if you find the right people. 

thank you for giving us zay, funny and happy and the type of friend and person we all hope to be. 

thank you for giving us smackle, who showed us that no disease or disorder can limit us from being outstanding. 

thank you for giving us their friendships, which showed us how important it is to surround yourself with the right people. 

thank you for bringing back cory and topanga, who meant so much to so many people, and giving us these new characters, who will always have an impact on us. 

thank you. 

Can I talk about one line I especially appreciate in Undertale?

On it’s own, this line is a huge wham line of feelings on its own. It’s one of the pinnacles of the Pacifist run. It’s a single sentence basically summing up the morals used through said run, and it’s pretty heavy. But it also has a personal meaning to me, and I’d like to talk about the way the lowercase ‘love’ is used. 

Throughout the game of Undertale there is no direct romance involving Frisk. (They’re a child, first of all, and that’s just not the focus of the game in general), yet, this term is used.

‘Love’. In media you never really hear that outside of sexual and/or romantic relationships. You only hear the term ‘love’ when kisses or romantic partners are being described. And as an Aromantic it’s almost alienating to me. You can’t ‘love’ your friends in media. You’re ‘best friends’. Or you ‘Care about each other’. And in familial relationships only young children tend to say they ‘love’ each other. It’s never used like that. It’s as if media treats those two types of love as somehow less real. 

But they’re not. They’re just as, if not more, important as romantic ‘love’. And frankly I love that this one line throws that idea down the drain. 

Because this is love

This is love

This is love

This is love

This is love

This is love

And this is love

And Undertale isn’t afraid to admit that.

For Day 4 of @tazladyweek, Canon Divergence. Don’t get me wrong, I love NO3113 as a member of Team Sweet Flips, but I really want her to be able to go home and chill with her family as well, maybe have some fun being an auntie?

Don’t think about Remus Lupin wrapping his arms around himself as he stares out the window of his cold, lonely apartment. Don’t think about the t-shirt he’s wearing; of course it’s Sirius’. Don’t think about him staring at that one star in the sky. The one that Sirius pointed out to him every time they could see it. Don’t think about shared cigarettes on window seats in the common room, Sirius pointing to Orions Belt and saying, “That bright one, right there. That’s me. That’s Sirius”. Don’t think about Remus staring at the bright dog star, alone, clinging on to Sirius’ old t-shirt with everything he has. Don’t think about the tear that he lets slip down his scarred cheek when he whispers “Pads”.

Don’t think about Sirius Black, staring at the moon. It’s almost full, and he feels sick that another month will go by where he isn’t there with his Moony. His Moony with no one to protect him from himself, with no one to brush his hair back the morning after as he opens his amber eyes, the colour of sunlight and whiskey. No one to tell him he’ll be okay. Don’t think about Sirius, sitting in a cold cell, knowing that he didn’t kill his best friends, but feeling like he deserves to be there anyway. Don’t think about him running his hand over one of his scars, just above his heart, and staring at the waxing moon. Don’t think about fingernails that dig into his scar to ground him as he mutters “Moony” repeatedly under his breath.

Just don’t think about it.