i didn't want to give away the real context so yeah

What went down in Dislocoeur
  • INTRO SEQUENCE
  • Ms. Bustier: in many fairy tales the prince breaks the spell by kissing the princess, can anyone tell me why?
  • Rose: BECAUSE DO THE SMOOCHY THING
  • Ms. Bustier: that's not really an answer
  • Max: technically this only applies to 87% of fairy tales
  • Ms. Bustier: there's no way that number is correct
  • Ms. Bustier: maybe like 7% or 8% at most
  • Rose: DO THE SMOOCHY THING
  • Ms. Bustier: yes Rose we got that
  • Rose: DO THE SMOOCHY THING DO THE SMOOCHY THING DO THE SMOOCHY THING
  • Ms. Bustier: who are you even talking to
  • Ms. Bustier: are you saying that in the imperative
  • Rose: pls do the smoochy thing :( #ladynoir
  • Adrien: well I just wrote this poem time to toss it in the garbage with the rest of the fandom
  • Marinette: hmm I wonder what that hot guy threw in the trash
  • Marinette: ooh it's a poem!
  • Marinette: "roses are red, violets are violet, poetry is f**king hard, do the smoochy thing pls"
  • Chloé: hmm why is Marinette looking through the garbage
  • Sabrina: did you know there's an entire fandom in there?
  • Chloé: wow she must be really desperate
  • Max: kk Kim it's time for you to run along this route and meet your crush on a bridge
  • Kim: why is her route so convoluted
  • Max: idk but if you meet her on that particular bridge and give her this particular jewel you've got a 87% chance of success
  • Kim: there's no way that number is correct
  • Kim: maybe like 7% or 8% at most
  • Marinette: I say go for it!
  • Kim: kk, running now
  • Alya: NO WAIT COME BACK
  • Alya: NEVER TAKE ROMANTIC ADVICE FROM MARINETTE
  • Marinette: now imma write a poem to Adrien
  • Chloé: and imma break the hearts of a buncha tweens
  • Chloé: hey tweens! you see how fabulous I am? well I'm never gonna date you
  • Chloé: do you see what you're missing out on
  • Chloé: well that was fun anyway I hope one of you gets akumatized now
  • Chloé: F**K ALL Y'ALL TO THE END OF THE WORLD AND BACK
  • Chloé: b**ch I'm out
  • Kim: *goes to bridge*
  • Kim: this is the Pont des Arts, right?
  • Kim: so where did all the locks go
  • Kim: it's just panes of plexiglass
  • Kim: this is way less romantic now
  • Chloé: hey Kim
  • Kim: hey Chloé lemme smash
  • Chloé: are you for real
  • Kim: I got you blue AND yellow
  • Chloé: you're as pathetic as that meme
  • Kim: she doesn't want blue and yellow
  • Chloé: look I've got a buncha tweens clamoring after me now
  • Chloé: so you're like fourth in line at best
  • Chloé: BYE
  • Kim: what has my life come to
  • Hawkmoth: wow this is even more sad than usual
  • Hawkmoth: like, I actually feel really sorry for you
  • Hawkmoth: so here have an incredibly cool transformation
  • Dislocoeur: now we're talkin
  • Dislocoeur: I've got a bow and arrows!
  • Dislocoeur: pew pew pew!
  • Marinette: and now it's POETRY TIME
  • Alya: whaddaya got
  • Marinette: "roses are nerds, poems are easy, lemme smash pls bc I think you're hot"
  • Alya: wot
  • Marinette: wow romance really isn't all that great when you're honest about it
  • Alya: wow and here I didn't think you'd ever have enough experience with romance to figure that out
  • Marinette: ooh sweet burn
  • Marinette: btw that flying guy just shot you with an arrow
  • Alya: yeah that's where the sweet burn came from
  • Alya: and now I'm suddenly tempted to go confront Nino in a rap battle
  • Marinette: YES DO IT
  • Marinette: ok Tikki let's kick that flying guy's butt
  • Dislocoeur: hey it's Ladybug!
  • Marinette: no not yet
  • Dislocoeur: oops sorry
  • Marinette: Tikki, spots on!
  • Dislocoeur: there we go!
  • Ladybug: welp running away now
  • Dislocoeur: pew pew pew!
  • Chat Noir: hey Ladybug I've got a confession to make
  • Ladybug: look I already know you love me ok?
  • Ladybug: please don't endanger us by confessing what's already incredibly obvious when there's a supervillain trying to shoot us
  • Dislocoeur: *shoots Chat Noir*
  • Ladybug: that one's on him
  • Dislocoeur: yeah kinda
  • Chat Noir: now imma kill you
  • Ladybug: why
  • Chat Noir: because hate always wins
  • Ladybug: citation needed
  • Chat Noir: citation: the US election
  • Ladybug: ok fair point
  • Chat Noir: you just accepted anecdotal evidence as proof of a general claim
  • Ladybug: oops you're right
  • Chat Noir: now prepare to die
  • Dislocoeur: *tracks down Chloé*
  • Chloé: wow and here I thought you couldn't get any more ridiculous
  • Dislocoeur: imma shoot you now
  • Chloé: and give me the ability to make even sweeter burns than usual?
  • Dislocoeur: wait nvm that's a terrible idea
  • Chloé: wow even as a villain you can't succeed in anything
  • Dislocoeur: hey Hawkmoth can you Tier 2 akumatize me?
  • Hawkmoth: sorry buddy you're on your own
  • Ladybug: I gotta figure out how to dehateify Chat Noir!
  • Brain ghost Ms. Bustier: the prince breaks the spell by kissing the princess
  • Brain ghost Rose: DO THE SMOOCHY THING
  • Ladybug: disclaimer—the following kiss is intended solely as a means of counteracting Dislocoeur's akuma-granted ability, and should not be interpreted in any romantic or otherwise non-platonic context
  • Ladybug and Chat Noir: *do the smoochy thing*
  • Rose: YES THIS IS PERFECT
  • Chat Noir: I don't remember any of that
  • Ladybug: good now end that f**ker
  • Chat Noir: *ends that f**ker*
  • Ladybug: well I guess we're done here
  • ROLL CREDITS

anonymous asked:

(au) Ian as the ROTC leader of the school and Mickey being a pissed off parent so he goes down to the school to have a "talk" (threaten) him. He could be single, married, whatever you choose. Do with this what you will.

// ok so just for background: Mickey slept with Svetlana as a drunken dare, years ago, and she got pregnant. (She’s still a prostitute). He’s still gay but he hasn’t really ever acted on it (some casual sex maybe) and he’s closeted, but not as severely as he was on the show. He and Svetlana aren’t together, nor have they ever been. They raise Yev together but they don’t live together. And they don’t hate each other! Mickey and Ian have never met before //

// this is a total oneshot with no relation to any plotline or story I’ve written before //

Mickey was reading the paper in the kitchen when he heard the front door open. Yev always came by after his ROTC sessions on Thursday afternoons to see him. His son was usually in a good mood, but today he entered the room looking pretty downcast.

‘What’s up kid?’

Yev shrugged, opening the fridge and grabbing some juice. ‘Session was shitty,’ he said dully.

Mickey immediately got on his defence. ‘What happened? Somebody say something to you? Somebody hurt you?’

Yev came to sit opposite his father. ‘Just…these guys. It’s like they always have it out for me. I don’t expect them to be really nice or anything, I mean, it’s ROTC. But this is…something else.’

'What do they do?’

Yev’s eyes flickered to the table.

'They say stuff. About Mom.’

Mickey frowned. ‘What the fuck do they say about her?’

'They call her a - a whore. A slut,’ he said sadly. 'And they said I was an accident. They said I was a - an actual son of a bitch.’

Mickey sighed. ‘You know they’re just stupid idiots, right? Bored with their own dumb lives so they have to pick apart yours? We both know your Mom’s not a bitch.’

'That’s what I said. I said, don’t call my Mom a bitch. And then,’ he looked at Mickey, 'they said they didn’t mean my Mom when they said that. They - they meant my Dad,’ he said quietly.

Mickey didn’t say anything. He froze.

'Dad, I know you’re gay,’ Yev said gently.

He still didn’t say anything. ‘I, uh, I gotta go out,’ he said, voice tight and monotonous. He stood up to leave, to run away from this. Just like he did when he was seventeen. But Yev tugged on his arm and made him sit down again.

'No, we have to talk about this. Please,’ Yev begged. Mickey finally made himself meet his son’s eyes. They were full of worry and care. So Mickey sat down again.

'How did you know? Your Mom say something?’

Yev shook his head. ‘I’m sixteen, Dad, I’m not stupid. I see when guys come here, and I know they’re not ‘checking the pipes’ like you used to tell me. I see random shit lying around the house that doesn’t belong to us, and I know a guy left it here. I understand the innuendo-laced jokes that Mom and Mandy throw at you. And last year I - I accidentally found your DVDs,’ he said, embarrassed.

'What?’

'The porn, Dad. All guy-on-guy. I watched a bit of one, I was curious. Didn’t really do much for me, but if it does it for you, that’s fine, Dad. It’s cool. I don’t care as long as you’re alright. And you’re happy. I’m still your son and I still love you,’ Yev told him.

'Kinda feel like it’s the parent who’s supposed to say that stuff when their kid comes out to them. Not the other way around,’ Mickey said. But he pulled Yev into a firm hug. 'Thanks.’

'So anyway. I couldn’t stand to hear them talk about you and Mom like that. They called you…all sorts. But then they just kept chanting the same stuff over and over. Same word. Faggot’ He mumbled, hating the word.

'Well it’s not like I’ve not heard it before.’

'Well I hadn’t. Not in that context,’ Yev said glumly. 'It was on the walk home. They live a few streets over so it’s mostly the same route. They just kept shouting it, about you. And I hated it, I hated hearing them talk about you like that. It’s not even bad, it’s not one of your faults…why do they call you out on that instead of for something real?’

'People can be really fucking awful, Yev,’ Mickey told him. 'Believe me.’

'And it was that, along with everything about Mom. I started crying. I couldn’t help it.’

'I told you to never let people see you cry. They use it against you.’

'Yeah, they did. They kicked me.’

'They fucking hurt you?’

'Yeah because I - I tried to stand up to them.’

'Well that was never gonna work. One of you and how many of them?’

'Four.’

'Exactly. What’d you do, try and hit them?’

'No. I wouldn’t do that. I - I told them that my dad liking what he likes don’t make him a bitch,’ Yev explained.

Mickey felt his heart glowing with pride and almost felt tearful. He couldn’t think of what to say. He just clasped his son’s hand and laughed. ‘You really are my fucking son, aren’t you.’

Yev smiled. They were quiet for a moment. Then Mickey stood up. ‘Ok. I’m going to get Indian for dinner.’ Yev grinned. ‘Yeah yeah, I know it’s your favourite. You deserve it, kid,’ Mickey said, leaning to kiss him.

'Get samosas too?’ Yev asked.

'Sure. Back in a bit. Hey, do your homework, yeah? I don’t want your Mom saying I’m too easy going.’

Yev laughed. ‘Like anyone could ever think that.’

Mickey smiled and left.

-

He did go to the Indian restaurant and place an order, but they told him it wouldn’t be ready for nearly an hour. So he sat in the waiting area for a couple of minutes, flicking absently through a magazine. Then he knew he had to do something about those fucking neighbourhood assholes. So he pocketed his order number and was out the door, charging back the way he’d come.

He wasn’t intending on going after the kids directly. Sure when he was younger, he’d have gone straight to their place and bashed them a little to show them who was boss. But now he was an adult and he wouldn’t get away with it. And he didn’t want to set that kind of example to Yev. He didn’t want his son to grow up thinking that violence was always the solution like he himself had done for a long time. Too long.

So instead he headed for the ROTC centre, hoping that someone would be there he could talk to.

It was pretty empty. Most of the staff had left. The receptionist was still there though. ‘Can I help you?’

'Yeah, I need to speak to whoever runs the 16-18 group. My son’s in it. Yevgeny Milkovich.’

'Let’s see…you need Ian Gallagher. I don’t think he’s gone home yet. Try the office down the hall and to the left. His name’s on the door.’

'Thank you,’ Mickey nodded at her and made his way to this Ian Gallagher’s office and knocked on the door.

'It’s open,’ came his voice. So Mickey stepped inside. 'Can I help you?’ Mickey was initially taken aback by how young he was. He thought the young army guys were all fighting in some war somewhere, and the old ones were left here to run youth programmes like this. And not only was Ian Gallagher young, but he was fucking gorgeous. 'Sir?’ Mickey realised he’d just been staring at the man in silence for maybe a little too long.

'Yes. My son is a member. Yevgeny.’

Ian smiled. ‘Yes, Milkovich. He’s fantastic. Dedicated, loyal, talented. He could have a real future here. One of the best we’ve got.’

'That’s great, but he got home an hour ago and turns out he’s having a rough time.’

Ian raised his eyebrows. ‘Well I’m sorry to hear that. Something I did?’

Mickey shook his head. ‘No, it’s nothing to do with you. He thinks you’re great, actually. Really respects you. No, this is some other kids in the group. Messing with him. Giving him shit he doesn’t deserve.’

Ian couldn’t help but smirk at his cursing. ‘And what, ah, shit would that be?’

'They’re saying things to him. Mean things.’ He paused. 'Look, his Mom used to be a prostitute. I don’t know how they found that out, but either way, they’re insulting her, and him. Calling her names. And obviously he’s upset. It’s his Mom.’

Ian nodded. ‘I’m sorry. Clearly they’re doing it out of earshot but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel responsible for it happening. You and your wife must be very annoyed.’

Mickey hesitated. Normally he’d just go with it or lie by omission. But not this time. Not to this guy. ‘Actually I’m gay. We’re on good terms but she’s nothing more than a friend. Although yeah, she’s gonna be pissed when she hears.’

Ian nodded, taking it in stride, but Mickey didn’t miss the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly.

Mickey continued, ‘and the kids know too, and when they stopped using Yev’s mother to torture him, they moved on to me. Look, I can handle it when it’s said to my face, but when they’re saying it to my son? That’s not ok. At all.’

'I understand. Truly. I’m going to do something about this. You’re right. No-one should have to deal with shit like that,’ Ian smiled at Mickey as he swore.

'Yeah. Well. Forgive me for not having a great deal of faith. From experience, I guess you’re just gonna give them a slap on the wrist, if that,’ he said, getting up to leave. Ian swiftly walked around the desk, blocking Mickey’s exit.

'I’m absolutely not going to be apathetic about this. I take sexism and homophobia very seriously,’ Ian told him, gradually closing space between himself and Mickey.

'And how do I know you’re not just saying that?’ Mickey asked, also drawing closer to Ian.

Ian paused, and then grinned as he leaned in to kiss Mickey, hard. They kissed roughly for a moment, before Mickey broke away. ‘Seriously?’ Ian nodded, and Mickey laughed, taking off his shirt.

Ian quickly undressed too, reaching around Mickey to lock the door. He kissed him again, moaning. ‘Shit, I can’t get enough of your lips,’ he murmured between kisses.

'You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ Mickey said, as he dropped to his knees and practically ripped Ian’s boxers off. 'Fuck,’ he whispered, before taking him in his mouth. Ian’s hand rested on the back of his head and they settled into a rhythm. But before Mickey could finish him, Ian pulled away. Mickey looked up at him questioningly, but Ian shook his head.

'I want to fuck you,’ he said breathlessly, pulling Mickey up and pinning him against the desk in one motion. He leaned back, reaching for his wallet and retrieving a condom. Mickey barely had time to focus before Ian was inside him. He didn’t ease in or prep him, nothing. Just right in all at once. He knew what he wanted and Mickey liked that. A lot.

'Shit, Gallagher,’ he groaned, feeling Ian hit all the right notes. This guy, this damn guy…Mickey knew it was the best sex he’d had in a long while. Maybe the best sex ever. Ian had an arm wrapped around his waist, and Mickey grabbed his hand, mashing their fingers together as Ian stifled a yell by biting his shoulder.

When he came, it was fucking glorious.

Their movements slowed, as Ian kissed Mickey’s neck, then jawline. It was softer now, gentler. He slid out so that Mickey could turn and kiss him properly. ‘That was…pretty amazing,’ Mickey whispered. Ian smiled. ‘You do this with every pissed off Dad who comes in here?

'Of course not,’ Ian said. 'Only the gay ones,’ he added with a grin. Mickey laughed. 'Which is, so far, just you.’

'I’m glad about that.’ Ian cocked his head curiously.

'Why are you glad?’

Mickey shrugged. ‘Just am.’

They slowly began putting their clothes back on. ‘Hey, Ian. You think maybe…maybe I could see you again?’

'I’ll see you in your dreams,’ Ian replied, grinning. Mickey looked blank. 'You never watched Queer as Folk? What kind of homosexual are you?’

'The kind that fucks guys.’ Ian laughed.

'Look, do you want to get a drink sometime or not?’ Mickey asked.

'I thought that usually happened before intercourse,’ he said.

Mickey laughed. ‘Who the fuck calls it intercourse?’ Ian smiled.

'A drink sounds good. Here’s my number,’ he said, grabbing a scrap of paper and scribbling down his digits. 'Call me?’

Mickey took the paper. ‘Yeah. Definitely.’ He opened the door and glanced back at Ian, who kissed him lightly. ‘Later.’

-

Mickey walked into his house and dumped the bags of food on the table. ‘Sorry it took so long. They had a lot of orders.’

’S'fine. Mandy’s here,’ Yev said.

'Hey big brother,’ his sister waved from where she was perched on the kitchen counter.

'What are you doing here?’

'Nice to see you too. Jesus. I was returning your toolbox.’

'Oh, yeah. Thanks.’ Mickey said, going to hug her and greet her properly.

'So Yev tells me the cat’s out of the bag. The cat being you.’

'Turns out he already knew. But…yeah.’

'It was still great that you admitted it to him. And talked about it. I know…I know you could never do that with any of our family.’

'Did you never tell them?’ Yev asked.

'Oh, I told them alright. It was your christening. I fucking yelled it across the Alibi.’

'So…your whole family was there?’

Mickey nodded. ‘Whole family and then some. Aside from Mandy. She was at work.’

'Don’t fucking remind me,’ she said. 'I’ve always regretted taking that extra shift.’

'What happened?’ Yev asked.

Mandy looked at Mickey sadly.

Mickey looked at his son for a second before answering. ‘My Dad beat the shit out of me. He just started screaming and charging at me. Like a fucking bull. He pinned me down on the floor and hit me, and he kept hitting me. He was so much bigger than me. I couldn’t move. And there was nobody there to get him off of me. Eventually he knocked me unconscious.’

'And then I get a call from the police. They’d taken Dad away and Mickey was I’m the hospital. I get there as fast as I can. He’s in a coma. Broken arm, fractured collarbone. Nose totally smashed. Face covered in bruises and blood. I just sat there, crying over him, wondering why Dad would do this to him. Eventually I realised. I know what made Dad fly off the handle. And I’d had my suspicions about Mickey but never dwelled on them. But then it all made sense.’

'When I woke up, the police came to talk to me. They told me what had happened. He’d kept beating me even after I blacked out. And he wasn’t sorry.’ Mickey looked up at his son. Yev was pale and his eyes were heavy with tears. Mickey was about to go hug him, when Yev stood up and came over to him and stood beside him.

He wrapped his arms around his father, crying into his shoulder. ‘I can’t believe that happened to you,’ Yev sobbed. Mickey held on to him, trying not to cry himself, trying to be strong for his son. He hadn’t seen Yev cry for years. ‘Dad that’s…horrific. I know why you always changed the subject when I asked about your family. I can’t - Dad - you could’ve died,’ he choked.

'Yeah but I didn’t. I didn’t. And I’m so fucking glad he didn’t kill me because I got to raise you. You’re the most important thing. You’re the only important thing I’ve ever had in my life. Everything else before you were born was just buildup. I know I’m not father of the year or whatever but I try my best. Because - I know what it’s like when your dad doesn’t give a shit. I know what it’s like when your dad makes your life a living hell. That’s why I hate it when you’re annoyed or upset with me, even over something small or stupid, because I hate the idea that I’ve made you feel even remotely how my dad made me feel. And ever since I can remember, I’ve just been so fucking scared, Yev, that I’m going to become my father,’ Mickey said quietly.

His son pulled back and looked at him. ‘Dad, no. You’re the best Dad. Ok? It doesn’t matter that you’re not rich, that you never finished school, that you’re not some cookie-cutter doctor or lawyer father with a wife and white picket fence. You’re the best Dad because you’re always here for me, no matter what. I can tell you anything. You help me with schoolwork, you come to my parent teacher conferences. Even though you and Mom aren’t together, you make sure that this is never a broken home. But most of all, Dad, you have never hurt me, and I never question the fact that you love me. And I - I love you too.’

'Shit,’ Mickey muttered, wiping away his tears. 'Come here,’ he said, hugging him tightly. Yev was almost taller than he was. 'I’m sorry I never told you. I was worried it would fuck you up. And then as you got older I was worried you wouldn’t respect me or you’d hate me.’

'I understand why you couldn’t tell me. It’s ok. It’s not about me. This is who you are.’

They all stood in silence for a minute or so. Then Mandy offered to reheat the food, and they all ate together, laughing and joking like usual.

Afterwards, as Mickey was clearing the table, Yev suddenly spoke. ‘Where is your Dad?’

Mickey paused, and looked at Mandy. After a moment, he spoke. ‘He’s in prison. He got twenty years.’

Yev frowned. ‘So he’s getting out in four years? If it happened when I was a baby?’

'He got five more years because of bad behaviour, a few years back. But then that got reduced to two and a half. So he gets out in about six years. Provided it doesn’t change again,’ Mandy explained.

'Are you scared?’

'Yes.’ Micky’s single word hung densely in the air.

'Will they give him a restraining order or something?’

'Probably. But knowing him, that won’t work.’ There was a pause. Mickey saw the angry, determined look on his son’s face. 'Hey, do not go looking for him. Under any circumstances. Ok?’

'I won’t,’ Yev agreed. But that was one promise he probably wouldn’t keep.

-

A little over a week later, Yev rolled out of bed. Saturday morning was when he went running, and he immediately pulled on some clothes. He’d shower when he got back, but he needed to pee. He walked down the hall towards the bathroom, but saw it was locked. He could hear his Dad peeing, so he leaned against the wall and waited. After a moment, he heard the toilet flush and then the door opened. His mouth dropped open. He was face to face with his ROTC instructor. His shirtless ROTC instructor.

'Morning, Milkovich,’ Ian said simply, grinning at him cheerfully.

Yev just watched him walk back towards his Dad’s room, still in disbelief. His instructor was gay? And he was dating his Dad? His head was spinning.

But then he smiled. He realised that his Dad wasn’t hiding this stuff from him anymore. And that was fucking great.

// the end. Hope this was ok. It ended up being longer and deeper than I originally intended. (plus you’ll notice I planted the seeds for a potential follow up…let me know if you want me to write that! Otherwise PLEASE keep prompting me!! //

On YouTube Fame and Misfortune

These are thoughts I’ve actually had in my head ever since YouTube became a legitimate platform for artists, bloggers, and so on - although a sudden increase in concerning events have brought my fingers to the keyboard, and I’ll apologize in advance in the case that this becomes a lengthy rant. 

I think the most appealing part about YouTube is that anyone with a camera phone, an idea, and an internet connection can accidentally become famous, if only for a month. Anyone can think of something quirky and jot it down and maybe influence enough people to watch their channel, through crazy thumbnails or legitimately interesting concepts, and get to the front page. Everyone has a voice now. Everyone can be heard, and that’s such a great thing!

Potentially. 

But I think it can be incredibly scary, too. It’s terrifying if you actually take the time to think about it. I mean, at first, it’s not bad. You have a small channel, you make videos in your free time and a few people watch them and enjoy them. That validation that your ideas are interesting and fun to watch, that people take their precious time to listen to what you have to say, is invigorating. The possibility that your single voice could make any change in this world is wonderful, and it’s a fantastic feeling to have. 

In the beginning, it’s easy. Low expectation, low casualty if you decide to drop out. You have little to no chance of hurting people with any of your videos because your audience is so small you pretty much know what topics to avoid in order to keep the peace.

You have a hundred followers, and wow, it feels so good that ONE HUNDRED people like your work. 

You have a thousand followers. A THOUSAND?! You couldn’t even have a party for them, but you are still able to keep up with most of the fan mail and the tweets. Everyone has their own lives, after all, and not everyone is focused on you.

Then you have a million.

That is one million people. 

That is a huge population of people that you couldn’t possibly hope to chat with individually at one time - what an awful host/ess you’d be! Some people wouldn’t be able to see you and they’d be upset, but hopefully they would understand how impossible that is, right?

Five million people.

Wait. 

Six million people.

This is great but-

Seven million people.

Okay, but can I just talk to-

Eight million people.

Jesus, I can’t-

35 MILLION PEOPLE.

And you are only one.

And your hobby has become a job devoted to keeping the peace in your fandom. What used to be a fun distraction has become a tight rope of anxiety over a sea of 35 million matches below you, and there’s no possible way of knowing how to avoid each strike.

I can’t imagine that. That metaphor might be totally off base, but when I think about that many people - even a million, even a thousand, even a hundred - watching my channel and getting frustrated if I don’t upload a video or if I suddenly get a love interest or if I decided that I wanted to move on to something else.

People that could tell me that my videos are the only thing keeping them alive.

People that write about me in ways I know I’m not, thousands of times because to them, I’m a blank slate.

People that I would suddenly become responsible for, and why?

Because I decided to make a channel that a lot of people enjoyed, and that’s not bad at all! But…

Listen, I have a hard time catering to the 30 people currently subscribed to me - and I only have 10 videos up and I’m not even sure if this is the direction I want to take, even for five years of my life, because there’s that potential that I get too popular. And at first, I thought, “Wow, that’s really conceited. Why would I be the next Markiplier, Pewdiepie, Jacksepticeye, Jenna Marbles, etc.? What would make my channel so special? Ashley, calm yourself down, deng.”

But that’s not the point. It’s not that I think my channel is anything special. I mean, I enjoy what I talk about and I’m still going to make things for my own reasons, but that’s not the point. It’s scary to think that, if my channel caught on and I did get popular and thousands of people enjoyed my channel that I would no longer be a person.

I would become an image on the screen.

I would be trapped in the box that you can pause and play whenever you want. And it might give you the idea that I exist for you and your entertainment. And that might make some people think that whatever I do should be a reflection of that. I can’t date because, wow, that is so r00d to the dudes and ladies in my fanbase that want some of dis. I can’t make any snide comments because it could be taken out of context and I have to write thirty apologies because I upset someone so much that they relapsed into bad behaviors. I can’t be myself anymore, because now I exist for you.

Except that I don’t.

No one does. Not Jack or his girlfriend, Wiishu, not Mark, not Felix, not Jenna, not any of them. One day, they are all going to stop making YouTube videos and fade out of the limelight. And it is really sad when I realize that they are probably going to enjoy being a memory to people instead of part of a huge family on this amazing platform that gives everyone a voice - and then somehow, has it taken away.

I mean, I could totally be off by everything and I’m just paranoid because bunches of people liking my stuff would mean a crazy commitment and I’m constantly scared of letting people down even though I really want to make a difference and change the world in positive ways. 

But…If I feel this way now - with few, but meaningful, subscribers and little to no real damaging impact on my tiny community - how must it feel to be in the millions? That’s scary. Seeing comments and posts and tweets towards certain YouTubers have almost turned me away from my own channel. Almost. 

Except that what got me really interested into YouTube in the first place was the family that I saw among the YouTubers. The friends that played games together and the people that made skits and sang together. It reminded me of my high school drama family, and I would love to be a part of it, and to contribute to it. There are a lot more reasons that contributed to my perseverance, but those don’t exactly contribute to the point I’m making.

That point is:

Imagine sitting in your room, on your computer.

Imagine looking at your inbox and seeing over 999+ messages.

Imagine looking at comments on your YouTube channel and being 10 pages away from the first comment 2 minutes after it’s uploaded.

Now imagine that every single one of those people are depending on you.

wow

That’s nuts. While I know most wouldn’t exactly call that a “burden”, it’s got to be damn taxing on the soul. Especially when you’re worried that one of those people might really need you, and you might not get to them in time because, how could you? You couldn’t know. And that’s okay.

Sean McLoughlin is just a guy playing games and making people laugh.

Mark Fischbach is a dude that enjoys goofing off and making people smile.

Jenna Marbles is a a fun loving lady who loves her dogs.

Anthony Padilla likes Pokemon and joking around.

I could go on, but I think it’s getting redundant. 

I’m not really sure how to wrap this up in a clear and understandable way, but I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff going on towards these people just because they are popular on YouTube and people seem to forget that, you know, they’re people. Yeah, you enjoy watching them, but gosh dang, they have their own lives. Lives that you don’t need to know about to enjoy their material and lives that may or may not directly involve your influence. And that’s okay! Because you’re still important, and you have a voice, too. Just because that specific person doesn’t hear it doesn’t mean you are any less important and it doesn’t mean that they don’t care. They just…have a lot of people who want to be heard by them specifically.

Gosh, I feel like there’s more I want to say, but I don’t even think this makes much sense. <=/ Sorry about the rant, but, uhm. I guess

TLDR;

Imagine having 35 million people who depend on you everyday.

Now think of your favorite YouTuber and send them some good vibes (even if it’s not by directly messaging them!).

Thank you.

(/Awkwardly waddles out of Tumblr)

thejabberwock  asked:

I like everything you've said about Mary and how she needs to go and not knowing them beyond sharing DNA so she can't feel close to them yet. And I think thats why it bothered me so much that she said I love you. It didn't ring true. She loves the boys she left, not the present Sam and Dean whom she barely knows. That's why I'm frustrated. You can't both feel like you don't know these men and love them at the same time. There's s disconnect.

Hi! And thanks! Yeah, the “I love you” was so difficult.

First of all, it’s a phrase we’ve heard so rarely on this show that we can count the number of times any of the main characters have actually said those words on one hand. Dean’s said it a grand total of one time, to Mary, in a memory he was reliving in heaven from when he was four years old. The “tell mom I love her” from 2.20 came close, but still didn’t nail the phrase properly. It still only brings his “I love you” total up to about 1 ½.

Mary intellectually understands that these two men are her boys, but she can’t make this shocking new reality fit with her memory of them. It feels like mere days to her have passed since they were an infant and a young boy. There DEFINITELY is a disconnect.

But I don’t think it was a contradiction for her to tell them she loved them. She’s trying to fill in a 33 year gap between when she tucked them in to bed and truly felt and expressed her love for her small children, and this new reality where she knows that they are the same people she loved before, but everything else about them is a huge blank spot. Of course she wouldn’t stop loving her children, and she’s trying to remind them and reassure them of that fact. I think it’s supposed to feel jarring, because everything about this situation is jarring.

But as a mother, I get it. You don’t stop loving your kids just because they’re not what you expected. @dorkilysoulless pointed out that there’s a queer reading of that scene, and I agree:

And now she’s telling him that she’s in mourning, and that being around him just makes it worse, and she doesn’t see him because she wants her little boy, and of course he steps away.  

There is nothing in the world that hurts like the person who is supposed to love you no matter what rejecting you for who you are instead of who they think you should be.  To have that pain in this context?  It’s almost unimaginable.  

While I’m not going to commit to this being queer subtext just yet, I am going to say that the real-world equivalent to this experience is primarily a queer one.  

But Mary, with the reminder that she does love them, and that she needs to leave for “a little while,” is essentially telling them it’s not about them, it’s about her. She can’t begin to make sense of anything unless she can give herself a little breathing room.

I think it’s also important to remember that Mary has no idea just how badly she’s hurt them just by walking out the door, and especially Dean. She doesn’t understand that he has the world’s largest collection of abandonment issues, because how could she? She’s got 33 missing years and while her love for her kids jumped that gap with her, her knowledge of the people her sons have become is a vast blank spot for her.