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paganinpurple · 4 years

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Roofie, Ch 6- The Truth

Buy Me A Coffee?

Story on AO3

<<Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 <Ch 5 Chapter 6 Ch 7> (Should I write an epilogue? (unwritten)

So, It has been almost 2 years since I updated this fic. I'm sorry. I've been having a hard time and inspiration, motivation and time to write are 3 things that never seem to hit me even 2 at a time, never mind 3.

Hope you enjoy! I'm unsure whether just to end this here or to add an epilogue to this. Suggestions welcome.

The Truth

She stared. The panic had set in and she had absolutely no idea how to answer him. Should she admit she remembered? Should she claim ignorance? What if she said she remembered but played it off as a drunk kiss that didn’t mean anything? That drunk her just latched onto people or-

“Um,” she squeaked, her face burning.

“S-So you do remember then?” he said, his blush-stained face an otherwise completely blank mask which gave nothing away for her to decipher.

She flung her face forward, burying it in her sleeved hands as the rush of blood took over her face. “Argh, I’m so embarrassed!” she mumbled.

Adrien gave a stilted chuckle. Of course, she was embarrassed, he was positively dying of mortification and he hadn’t even said anything cringe worthy. Yet.

“Oh, join the club,” he said with a surprising amount of calm. He was still blushing, but somehow seeing Marinette’s reaction was calming. There was literally no way to make enough of a fool of himself to out-embarrass her right now.

He moved over to the chaise and slumped down in the space next to her as she glanced up through her fingers in shock at his relaxed appearance. “Do you remember everything, or…?” he trailed off - not wanting to give her any ideas, lest she use them as excuses to deny anything.

With a huge exhale, her hands swept up her face and back into her loose hair, gently dragging through and ruffling the damp locks as she tried to get a handle on herself. She’d unintentionally disrupted her parting in the process and Adrien restrained himself from reaching over and delicately lifting at the strands to correct it. Instead, he focused on her hands as they returned to her sleeves, disappearing inside the protection of the oversized sweatshirt.

“I…remember Phillipe got me a drink.” She bit her lip and refused to look at him. “After that it all gets a bit, uh, confusing.”

Frowning –partly because hearing that name pissed him off to a ridiculous degree, but mostly out of sheer frustration at Marinette’s evasiveness – he reached out and took one of her hidden hands in his. Tenderly, he slid the soft fabric up her arm slightly to reveal her hand, his own gently clasping her dainty wrist. He felt genuinely torn. He wanted to know what she remembered so he knew the right questions to ask to clarify his own confusion, but he also didn’t like the idea of Marinette feeling awkward and uneasy. He sighed.

“I won’t insist on the truth,” he said, putting her feelings before his own, “I’d rather you told me whatever makes you comfortable instead.”

He watched as her eyes bored a hole into the spot their skin met for a moment before shyly drifting up to meet his own gaze. She took a deep breath before she spoke, but she held that contact between them, even when her voice trembled slightly.

“That puts me in a tight spot. There’s nothing I can really say because the truth…well, you know. And lying makes me very uncomfortable.”

“Then please, just tell me what you remember,” he asked her, “Honestly.”

She trembled, but seemed to force herself to hold his gaze. “I know I left the ballroom after that. I spoke to someone, but I can’t actually remember who, or what I said. But I know I…”

When she trailed off, he gently ran his thumb across the underside of her wrist as a silent encouragement and she closed her eyes and swallowed audibly before continuing.

“I know I kissed them. Him. Time’s a little fuzzy so I don’t remember getting from that to being in the car. But I know I was in the car with him. He wouldn’t let me kiss him, but I was pretty persistent.” She gave a humourless laugh of sorts. “I don’t remember getting out of the car or anything after that.”

Adrien was shocked at just how badly his chest hurt at her admissions, his father’s earlier revelations about Marinette’s feelings seeming to fade into the back of his mind as his own pain and anxieties took precedence. She remembered enough about the night to have a general idea of what had happened, but she didn’t remember that it had been him with her the whole time. In a way, he felt like it made the whole thing worse. If she hadn’t recalled any of last night, then that was easily written off as the drug wiping her mental timeline clear. But for her to remember so much, but have him edited out of those memories? It almost felt like…like he wasn’t important enough?

“So, you don’t know who…”

“Just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean it’s not obvious who it was,” she said, her eyes opening once again and piercing him with an intensely vulnerable stare, “My parents told me you brought me home, Adrien. And I’m pretty sure…no, I know there’s only one person I would have tried to kiss.”

He was suffocating. He may as well have been at the bottom of the Marina Trench or out in the vast vacuum of space for all the oxygen he seemed to be able to capture once the words left her mouth, and it was painful, yes, but also exhilarating.

She was admitting that she knew she had kissed him, but she was also confessing that what she had said to him last night, and what his father had told him today were true.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

And suddenly the air was rushing back into his lungs in much the same way the adrenaline in his body raced to make him speak, to act, to do...something.

Have you really been in love with me for years?” he breathed, afraid of his own voice in case the sound broke the spell they both seemed to be under as their eyes stayed fixed to one another.

She squeaked, but she didn’t pull away or take her eyes from him and he counted that as a victory.

“Did I tell you that?” she asked in the same soft tone, her free hand coming up to her face to cover her mouth.

He nodded, breaking into a smile as the atmosphere shifted into something significantly more comfortable than before. “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you meant it or if it was just what had happened messing you up. My dad was the one who had to convince me, actually.”

This time, Marinette did take back her hand, bringing it up to join its twin in pressing against her face as her eyes bulged in horror. “Your dad!?” she shrieked, “Your dad knows?”

He tried, he really did, but he couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled from his chest at her reaction and he howled all the louder when she looked adorably offended by it.

“Look,” he said once he had calmed down a little, “as much as my dad used to act like he didn’t have a clue that he was upsetting people, it turns out he’s ridiculously good at reading people. He says he’s known you liked me since we were fourteen.”

“Oh my God!” Her pitch was getting louder the more she spoke and given the increased range that came with being the Black Cat Miraculous user for so long, he suspected she might start to hurt his delicate ears soon if he didn’t distract her somehow.

“He…he brought some other stuff to my attention as well.” He scratched at the back of his neck nervously, his blush returning stronger than ever. “And, well, it totally threw me at first because I didn’t really believe him, you know? But…it makes a lot of sense now. And I guess when I think about how I’ve reacted to things in the past-”

“Adrien,” Marinette interrupted his ramblings, “Can I have a map to this conversation, please?”

He mock glared at her. “As if you’re one to talk. You used to stammer nonsense at me all the time when we were younger.”

“And now you understand my reasoning. What’s your excuse?” She finished by crossing her arms and facing him and sitting up straighter than before, a smug look on her face. Her gaze faltered as he suddenly seemed extremely interested in her ceiling light. Or her floor. Or really anywhere but her. “Adrien?” she asked hesitantly.

Gulping in more of that sweet air that had evaded him not so long ago and which threatened to do so again, Adrien looked at her once again, reaching out a tentative hand to take her own. He intertwined their fingers as Marinette watched, transfixed and used his other hand to cup her face. The contact made her flinch in surprise for a moment, but she quickly regained her senses and slid her own free hand into his hair as he closed the gap between them.

He was sure her lips had only barely brushed against his before she started to pull back abruptly –nerves and overthinking, he assumed– and he took the risk to chase after them, promising himself that he would only chase so far so as not to encroach on her own comfort. He was incredibly relieved when she stopped retreating, her whole body relaxing and melting into his touch.

The kiss wasn’t like they were often described in fiction, he found. Her lips didn’t taste of anything he recognised, and it didn’t feel like she was something he was physically missing, and that he needed to complete him. But it was sweet and gentle, and he was sure he’d never been more content than he was right now.

He pulled back enough to press his forehead to hers, his lids blinking open to see her own doing the same, a simple smile resting on her lips now. He found himself smiling in a way that echoed her own.

“I don’t know if I love you,” he told her honestly, “But I do know that I like you. A lot. Like, a whole lot.” He watched as her smile widened to a grin and she glanced down at their joined hands shyly. “But,” he added, “I love the way I get all warm inside when I think about you telling me how you feel about me. Even if you were out of it.”

Marinette gave a light chuckle, gently squeezing his hand in her much smaller one as she looked up at him again. Her eyes were full of that warmth and adoration he’d been overlooking all this time and his chest swelled with affection for her.

“Then I guess, now that I’m sober, I better tell you again,” she said with a smirk. She leant up and pressed a quick peck to his lips before she continued.

“I love you Adrien.”

Buy Me A Coffee?

#PIP writes #Roofie #ML fic #adrienette #adrinette #miraculous ladybug

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charrfie · 4 years

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Alright now that its officially Forzen Friday let's try this post again since it didn't show up in the tags last time-

I'M FINALLY MAKING A FORZEN HC DUMP (kinda AU-ish territory but not really idk exactly) AND NONE OF YOU CAN STOP ME

There are also a few other hcs sprinkled in here related to other characters (like Darnold and Sunkist for example) but Forzen is the main focus!! Despite him being a minor character I latched onto him and fleshed him out sm yall have no idea

Everything under the cut bc this shit is gonna be LONG (and there's also some more doodles that take up a bit of space!)

Also uhh if people like this I might take one for another hlvrai character later bc I have a lot to say about everyone!!

Forzen moved from France to the US with his parents when he was around 12 or 13 (yes, I'm aware that Scorpy and Holly are French Canadian and not France French but that doesn't mean Forzen can't be, I'm just being sure to say this now before someone says something to me about it)

He wanted to go to college and eventually become a game dev, but he didn't have the funds or the support for it (his family thought anything to do with games would amount to a career that would go nowhere).

Because of this, he instead was recruited in the US military. He originally had no intent to join, but after constantly being harrassed recommended to join and being entertained with the concept of being able to afford and pay for college, he caved (hence him telling the science team that his only goal is "to graduate").

He doesn't like his job very much if that wasn't clear.

And neither do most others that have the same job like him.

He was put on a "team" of his own, Team Nice, which was likely arranged as a guaranteed way to get Forzen in the way of danger, and with no one else fighting beside him, he would be easily dealt with- no one would have to worry about him bothering them again. However, he somehow manages to survive all of this, of course. Somehow. He likely knows the real reason he was assigned his own team (if you can even call it that), but refuses to fully acknowledge it for his own sanity, and instead pretends that he's some big, important person on a team that ranks so highly, he's the only one qualified to be in it. (I apologize ahead of time for giving one of the most shitposty and throwaway characters in hlvrai this much depth and angst, there was just potential there leave me alone)

Fast forward to the actual events of hlvrai though. This hc is a little outlandish but I really like the concept!!! So, at one point, Forzen is killed, presumably by some kind of creature that was out and about due to the RenCas. The science team + Benrey stumble across him (act 2 part 2 at around 13 min in for anyone curious), and Benrey decides to use the healing beam Sweet Voice on him. While Benrey and Forzen may not be on good terms anymore, Benrey still very begrudgingly cares about him and didn't want to see him get injured or die. Forzen wakes up a minute or so after the science team exits the room, assuming that he just passed out, nothing more, and goes along with things as normal.

He meets Darnold a while after his first (concious) run in with the science team. Darnold has recently dealt with the science team and helped them out, but is pretty bummed that he couldn't travel with them, as everything was far too scary and dangerous for him. Forzen, wanting to escape Black Mesa and the military altogether, ends up making a deal with him that he'll handle all the dangerous stuff if Darnold can show him a way out.

Now, meeting Darnold is a very new experience for him, since Darnold actually enjoys his company, and actually wants to befriend him! At first, Forzen openly tries to act as if Darnold is a huge deal to put up with- he goes along with with the whole "if you're escaping outta this hellhole with me, you better keep up" kinda deal (despite the fact that he kinda NEEDS Darnold to escape and show him the way out). His walls are still very much so raised, and he doesn't let his guard down as he's not used to others caring about him and his safety. But as time passes, he begins to realize that maybe Darnold DOES want to be his friend, and the tough guy act becomes less apparent.

To preface this next one- Sunkist sensed that something was up (he has a next-level sense of danger when it comes to Tommy's safety) and got to BM as fast as he could, searching every hallway for his boy. This is when Forzen finds him!! He figures that taking Sunkist as a hostage would be enough to get extra info out of the team that's been practically plaguing him lately.

Darnold doesn't know about Forzen's plans to take Sunkist hostage, so is completely fine with traveling alongside him. At one point though, Forzen and Darnold get separated (Forzen occupies him, makes sure hes safe and then runs off to deal with Sunkist). Darnold immediately uses his surroundings to model a quick little teleporter device to get Forzen back, because, you know, the man's a genius. Idc if its logical or not just go with it shhh I've gotta fill in the plotholes with something. That's why Forzen disappears all of a sudden after he's cornered by the science team. He just pops back in front of Darnold suddenly, all confused and loopy from the whole teleportation thing.

As things begin to wind down, Darnold and Forzen make it out of BM and start making a break for it, no idea how they'll get away from BM and to safety somewhere- they didnt really think things through.

Fortunately (or unfortunately for Forzen really), however, G-man picks both of them up. He means to drop Darnold off at Tommy's party, as he observed that Darnold helped his son to safety and is grateful for it. Forzen, though, he intends to "deal with" for messing things up so badly with Tommy, Sunkist, and all of Tommy's friends. This is where Darnold finds out about everything Forzen did and frankly gets really pissed with him since he thought he only had good intentions??? Luckily though, Darnold convinces G-man to give him a second chance, let him go to Tommy's party and apologize, and try things again. G-man, for some reasons agrees- probably bc hes in a good mood, as it IS his son's birthday.

The party is pretty uncomfortable to say the least. Tommy's extremely hesitant to talk to Forzen, but he does, and they end up on neutral terms by the end of it. Uneasy, but neutral. Tommy and Darnold hit it off though, and Tommy opens the invitation to Darnold that he can visit his place anytime now that everything at BM is over with.

As everyone's getting ready to leave, Forzen mentions to Darnold that he doesn't have a place to stay, seeing as the entire military was kinda. Yknow. Wiped out. Obviously wouldn't wanna go back to check anyways. And he has no interest in going home to his parents. So Darnold agrees to let him stay with him since they've become good pals over the course of everything.

Over time, Darnold visits Tommy more and more often. He starts bringing Forzen along, which Tommy is iffy of at first, but their dynamic starts to change and become more comfortable once Tommy sees that Forzen isnt interested in being enemies anymore.

Sunkist and Forzen still don't get along for a very long time. Or, well- it's moreso that Sunkist is very wary about Forzen, despite him not doing anything to harm either Sunkist or Tommy.

Oh yeah and almost forgot to mention one of my favorite hcs (that I PROMISE you started out as a joke but then I got attached) is Sunkist can talk!! So his first spoken interaction with Forzen after Forzen comes over to visit for the first time is literally just him being all threatening and laying down the ground rules bc he doesn't want Forzen to hurt Tommy at all in any way. And of course Forzen about has a heart attack bc "HUH??????? THERE'S A DOG THAT IS SPEAKING HUMAN WORDS TO ME"

UHH I HAVE MORE (I've written out so much shit about dynamics and what I'd think would happen even after all of this) BUT I DON'T WANT THIS TO BE TOO LONG like it already is SO I SUPPOSE I'LL LEAVE IT AT THAT FOR NOW!!!! I hope this isn't too ooc either, I just have Emotions about this series and write too much so why not share it yknow

#forzen #hlvrai forzen #hlvrai #hc time #PLEASE let this show up in the tags this time i will actually cry if not i spent so long on this

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years

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BeeStings & SunBurns

PART 2

Santi X Estranged Wife!Reader

Alright. This is part 2 to Bees and Sunbeams. It’s shorter. I might make another part to this, but I wanted to get this written.

It’s angsty. They talk briefly about a miscarriage. There is a smidge of smut/alludes to smut.

Forgive my Spanish line if it is not proper. Its meant to say, “Hello my sweet girl”

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

Oscar tag: @m-1234 @artsymaddie

That had been about a month ago. Things since then have been tense. Santi was beating himself up over leaving her. He felt wrong laying next to her. Like… Like he didn’t belong there anymore.

He would often lay next to her while they slept, but about 3am he would wake and be overwhelmed with guilt and move to sleep on the couch instead.

This caused tension that he didn’t intend; Bee was understanding at first, but he could see. He could see as time passed that her heart was breaking each time she woke alone. Santi… he didn’t know how to tell her that… he felt he didn’t deserve her.

That night they argued over… something unimportant; he couldn’t remember what. He didn’t even bother trying to sleep in their bed.

He found out later on that night, that his Bee was not going to accept that.

It was about midnight when he heard her feet trot down the hallway. She looked at him, laying uncomfortably on the couch.

She sighed heavily, switching her weight between her feet, staring down at the floor.

She appeared to be deciding something. Whatever it was, she came to a conclusion as she stood still.

She moved over to him, lifting the blanket up, before lying on top of him.

“If you refuse to lay in our bed, then I will just have to follow you wherever you lay,” She mumbled into his chest.

He didn’t know how to react to that. So, he just quietly held her to him. The two of them slowly fell asleep together.

She did that every night for a week; followed him into the living room and laid on top of him.

Saturday rolled around; Bee had gone out to get sandwiches. When she returned, she dropped the bag on to the coffee table before moving to stand in front of him. She made him look at her, as she slowly straddled his hips to sit in his lap.

He allowed it, his hands hovering over her hips waiting for her next move. She ran her hands through his curls softly.

“I’m not sure why… you have felt the need to sleep on this awful couch for the past month. But tonight, it stops. You are going to sleep in our bed, all night. No exceptions. No excuses. You are my husband and I miss you. And… it feels like you aren’t really here,” She addressed firmly.

He swallowed thickly as he broke eye contact.

“I don’t deserve you. You deserve… you deserve someone who isnt broken,” Santi whispered hoarsely.

“I don’t want someone else. I married you. Shitty knees and all,” She teased lightly.

He chuckled softly at her joke.

“I’m not doing a good job of making things up to you am I?” He asked looking back up at her.

“You can start… by sleeping in our bed. This couch is not good for you, old man,” She furthered teased, but there was a seriousness in tone that he could hear.

“Okay. I can… I can do that,” Santi promised.

“Now. Kiss me like you still love me,” She softly commanded him.

He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer. One hand drifted up her side, resting along her jaw. He moved her forward his lips landing firmly upon hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss. He leaned the two of them back, his hand on her hip slipping under her shirt.

She shivered at the contact; his hands were calloused but that just added to the sensation. It slid under her bra and brushed over one of her nipples. She moaned lowly into his mouth, which allowed him to sneak his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues battled for a moment before he pulled away to kiss down her neck.

He moved toward the spot on her neck that used to make her sigh sweetly; wanting to see if he still knew her body like he once did. He paid extreme detail to the spot where her shoulder and neck met, loving the sighs and breathy moans that escaped her.

A loud knocking on the door caused them to pull away from one another, disappointed.

She quietly got up and answered the door.

“Hi guys, what brings you by?” She asked as she took in Will, Benny, and Frankie.

All three of them had brought their significant others, and Isobel slept quietly in Sophia’s arms.

“Figured you were exhausted dealing with the grump. Thought we should come by and make sure you were still sane, and he was alive,” Will teased as he stepped inside.

Bee chuckled quietly, everyone had brought over drinks and food.

The boys took over the living room, turning on a football game. Bee grabbed her sandwich from the bag and smiled at Santi who was shaking his head at his friend’s antics.

She joined the girls in the kitchen, sitting around the island.

“How have things been?” Sophia asked curiously.

“It’s… it’s been going. It was going quite well a moment ago but then we were interrupted,” She said with a smirk.

Sophia snickered, and apologized.

The 4 of them chatted and ate, while the guys watched the game.

Santi eventually made his way over to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, before grabbing some more beers out of the fridge.

“You ladies doing well?” Santi checked as he popped the caps off the bottles.

The others all told him they were doing well. Isobel apparently recognized his voice and woke up looking around tiredly. Her bottom lip began to wobble as tears built up, looking for him. When her eyes landed on him, she made grabby hands to him, leaning toward him.

“Hola mi dulce niña, did you have a nice nap? Come here sweetie,” He cooed to her, setting the bottles down to take her from Sophia.

He held Isobel to her, bouncing her slightly, moving to the living room. Bee grabbed the beers and followed him over, setting them down on the table for the guys. Santi sat down with Isobel, cooing to her in Spanish. Frankie shook his head at them.

“When ya’ll decide to have kids, you are going to be whipped,” Frankie commented, grabbing a beer and taking a drink.

Her smile fell slightly at that, and she returned to the kitchen quickly. She tried to keep her happy mood up, but she could feel it wane.

When they all finally left, Santi slowly walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Are you okay?” He softly asked her.

“They… they don’t know still do they?” She hesitantly asked.

He shook his head, “I haven’t had the heart to tell them.”

“We… we should tell them, eventually. They should know,” She quietly noted, staring down at his arms. “We should…also talk about it, too.”

He nodded, they made their way to their bedroom, and after quickly changing, they sat on the bed facing each other. Neither of them knew how to start this conversation. Santi knew one thing was certain: they had to be open.

“Bee. We… we… we lost our baby,” Santi whispered looking at his hands.

“We did. I… I know it’s normal. I know it can happen for any number of reasons. None of which was our fault. But… but I wanted our baby so badly,” She whimpered, as tears began to quickly pour down her face.

“I know. I know. I wanted our baby too,” He murmured, pulling her into his arms.

She cried into his chest, staining his shirt with her tears.

They sat there for a long while, the both of them letting out their emotions. When all the tears were dried, they had moved to lay under the covers.

They fell asleep eventually, and true to his word, Santi stayed there the whole night.

The next morning, Santi woke up before Bee, staring at her softly. He brushed away the locks of hair that fell into her face and pressed a kiss here and there to it.

She slowly woke up, rubbing her eyes harshly to clear away the sleep.

She whispered a small ‘hi’ to him as once she was done.

“Hey… Bee?” He called for her attention as she sat up.

When she looked back at him, he continued, “Do… do you think one day… we could try again? Try to have another baby?”

She bit her lip as she thought about it, “Do… do you still want to have kids?”

“Only if you do,” He replied sitting up with her.

She looked down, and shyly said, “Yeah. I’d like to try again at some point.”

His smile was small as he lifted her chin up and kissed her soundly.

They made out briefly, before getting up to go shower. They took it together, and Bee, after washing up, spent a great deal of time admiring him and exploring his skin with her hands. She would find new scars and run a finger over them delicately, giving each one a kiss.

“Baby. You gotta stop that. I’m not as young as I once was, I can’t exactly pin you to the shower walls as well I used to,” Santi softly groaned as he felt himself becoming aroused with each kiss.

She smirked up at him, her hand reaching down to run up and down his length.

“Then hurry up and rinse off, so we can move this to the bed old man,” She said impatiently as she stepped out, grabbing a towel.

“Old man, eh?” He grunted as he rinsed off, grabbing his towel swiftly, once the shower was off.

He chased after her to their room, pinning her to the bed. She moaned as he attacked her neck, grinding against her.

They took a moment to situate themselves on the bed, before spending the next couple hours making love to one another. The first couple rounds, were short, and ended almost too quickly for both of them; it had been too long.

They would rest and talk to one another about anything and everything. It was always during the conversation that one of them would say something suggestive and start up the next round.

When they were both satiated it was close to 1pm, they had lunch together, and cuddled on the couch, watching movies.

It was the first time in a long time, that everything felt normal. This was what Santi missed the most. Just relaxing and watching a movie with his wife. No one needed saving. No war. No criminal to catch. It was just the two of them, in their own little bubble.

This was all he needed.

#santiago pope garcia #santi x reader #estranged wife #tw miscarriage #tis brief but its discussed

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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To be perfectly honest, my biggest issue with handwaving away Bruce’s worst behavior with his kids as bad writing is it results in not only Dick being expected to fix or compensate for his own father’s badly written bad behavior for the sake of his siblings in canon.....but ALSO throws Dick under the bus by making him solely responsible for the canon problems he’s stuck fixing, as if HE’S the reason those problems exist, not Bruce.

This is a huge part of the problem with how he’s written in fandom imo and it desperately needs addressing.

Example:

Bruce fires Dick in various canons, is unsympathetic and unyielding resulting in Dick leaving in frustration, callously gives his name to Jason.

Canon results: Dick eventually comes back on his own, takes all initiative in repairing his relationship with Bruce, the one broken by his father’s canon bad behavior, and puts aside his initial resentment of his feeling replaced by Jason, for Jason’s sake.

Fandom spin, because fans don’t like seeing Bruce written as this poor a father: mitigating the reasons Dick left in canon by mixing and matching continuities so sometimes Dick left because he gave up Robin on his own, thus also had little reason to be upset Bruce gave it to Jason, or else generally just de-emphasizing Bruce’s firing of Dick in favor of emphasizing his bad behavior with Jason thus rendering Dick unsympathetic and leaving readers unconcerned with what made him leave in the first place.

Or another example:

Bruce hits Dick, blames him for Jason’s death and kicks him out of the Manor telling him to leave his key with Alfred.

Canon results: Dick retreats to the Titans and avoids Gotham and Bruce while Bruce gets excessively more violent and reckless as Batman, leading to Tim seeking Dick out and begging him to return as Robin, and while Dick refuses to do that, he IS at least motivated to return to Gotham to check up on Bruce, leading to him and Bruce being endangered by Two-Face, rescued by Tim as Robin, and Tim then becomes Robin with Dick’s approval and help, leading to Dick returning to Gotham more regularly to help with his training and thus by extension resulting in his relationship with Bruce slowly repairing over time, with Tim often credited as being the reason Dick and Bruce started talking again.

Of course, this also means (unacknowledged) Dick once again took the initiative in regards to repairing his relationship with Bruce...while Tim might have been the catalyst, all of the above nevertheless required that Dick yet again put aside his legitimate grievances with his father and his actions towards him, forgive and forget regardless of the fact that like with his firing, while Bruce may at times express regret for the way things happened or express that he missed Dick, this also never involved or led to Bruce actually apologizing for any of his specific actions or taking accountability for them, as well as forcing Dick to put aside his personal feelings about there being another Robin at all, given that initially in his grief for Jason, he was not at all on board with the idea of him being replaced in any way, or another child similarly being put in potential danger.

Fandom spin, because fans don’t like seeing Bruce written as literally having abused Dick in his grief: Either Dick had simply retreated to the Titans and stayed away from Gotham and Bruce because of his own grief for Jason, in which case Tim really was more responsible for getting him and Bruce to talk again, because he convinced Dick to stop thinking just about himself and realize how this was affecting Bruce too....or else Dick was selfish in his grief and blaming Bruce for Jason’s death, and it took Tim to knock some sense into him....or else Dick just had no patience for Bruce’s grief or else simply no idea how to help him or else stayed away out of guilt, because he felt like Jason’s death was his fault for being ‘a bad brother’ or else simply hadn’t cared all that much about Jason so felt uncomfortable intruding on Bruce’s grief, and either way, not only is this why he wasn’t there for Bruce and why it took Tim to get him to step up, its also why he was so quick and able to be a better brother to Tim this time around, by choice, and also legitimizes Jason’s hurt and resentment about being replaced and no one caring and Dick being a better brother to Tim and more invested than he ever was with Jason.

Or another example, from the Reboot era for some variety:

Bruce loses his shit after seeing Dick die in Forever Evil, and unable to process it well or healthily or react to it or the future threats to Dick because of being unmasked in any other way than get him the hell out of Gotham at all costs, he guilt trips, emotionally abuses, manipulates, victim blames and physically beats Dick into accepting the undercover Spyral mission despite Dick’s extreme protests, almost all of them centered specifically around the effect believing him to be dead will have on the rest of their family.

Canon results: Dick is hung entirely out to dry, with all of his family effectively holding him and only him to blame for their feelings of hurt and betrayal, on the specific grounds that they expect Bruce to make shitty, callous choices like this and by extension they expect Dick, his son, their brother, to be the one to pump the brakes because he knows better, regardless of the fact that Dick is just as desperate for their father’s rarely doled out approval and thus just as vulnerable to going to extreme lengths to please him, those lengths logically being further and further the more desperate and vulnerable he feels....such as being in an intensely vulnerable state post being tortured and feeling guilty and responsible for failing Bruce and his family and friends by getting captured in the first place, the very things Bruce exploited to get him to agree to the mission.

Fandom spin, because fans don’t want to view Bruce as being capable of being so callous and cruel and outright hurtful to his eldest son (often hypocritically given how many MORE fans are completely willing to view the events of RHATO #25 as viable Bruce characterization, in order to milk the hell out of his abusive behavior with preferred family victim Jason, an ‘actual’ abuse survivor and thus thematically more compelling to have been abused by Bruce): All record of Bruce as the motivating factor in Dick taking the Spyral mission is stricken from fandom record by these fans, as are all of Dick’s protests for his family’s sake, ironically the very same points echoed by those characters when they later crucify him for not caring enough about them to take into account how they would feel because of all of this, or just Dick thinking the mission was more important than that anyway.

IN ALL OF THE ABOVE:

Notice how not only is Dick written in canon as being expected or responsible for compensating for Bruce’s worst written behavior in regards to both himself and his siblings.....but when fandom attempts to compensate for Bruce’s worst behavior by ignoring, mitigating or justifying any of his actions or choices in these matters...

It is always, always, ALWAYS additionally at Dick’s expense, as the inevitable end result of removing or lessening Bruce’s own culpability in character conflicts that he himself instigated....is inversely, MORE culpability is heaped on Dick for those same conflicts in order to justify or keep the conflict’s very existence, even if he bore NO initial culpability or responsibility for the conflict in the first place, in canon!

When the core conflict is between two characters, and Dick is one of them and the other, Bruce, is deliberately UPLIFTED on the conflict see-saw so as to raise him out of the depths of badly written canon behavior and restore him to the heights of Good Dad Bruce....of fucking COURSE the extension of that sees Dick dumped down to those same depths of shitty behavior that Bruce was just raised out of, in order to make this possible.

AND IN ADDITION TO THAT....

Notice how in all of those instances, its not just that Dick is spun by fandom to be worse than he is in the actual canon instances....first, fans actively ignore or erase or explain away the EXTRA MILE that Dick was written going, in all of these instances in canon, in order to....compensate for Bruce’s shitty behavior and ‘fix’ what Bruce broke in each instance....

Even BEFORE fans THEN proceed to make Dick go the extra mile in the REVERSE direction, such as when FIRST its ignored that Dick put aside his resentment for Jason’s sake, THEN its added on that Dick was a total asshole to Jason. Or like FIRST its ignored that Dick put aside his legitimate grievances with what Bruce had done to him when Dick went to CONSOLE Bruce in the first place after Jason’s death, in order to help train Tim...THEN its added on that Dick only ‘stepped up’ and patched things up with Bruce because TIM got Dick to see that the father he was avoiding because he kicked him out of his own home NEEDED him. Or like FIRST its ignored that Dick literally, physically FOUGHT Bruce over the fact that Bruce wanted him to do this thing he KNEW would massively hurt the rest of the family...THEN its added on that Bruce didn’t even play much of a role in Dick’s decision at all, definitely not something that Dick actively pushed back against for his family’s sake.

AND THEN.

On top of ALL OF THAT, fandom repeatedly insists that the reason they go to all of these lengths when ignoring or avoiding addressing Bruce’s worst writing....is because they prefer him being a good dad, and having a good relationship with his sons, including and even especially Dick....and that’s WHY they do all this.

Ie....this is supposedly for DICK’S BENEFIT. In order to make Bruce a better dad FOR him.

So riddle me this.

How the FUCK does it work or make any kind of sense to take a son who has literally been written being abused by his father in canon - WHETHER YOU LIKE TO ADMIT THAT OR NOT - and THEN not only disregard how often canon expects Dick to essentially be the parent canon chooses at times not to depict Bruce as capable of being.....but ALSO actively write Dick as being WORSE than he is in ANY of these canon instances....in order to make HIM the catalyst, instigator or responsible party in these instances that BRUCE initiated....so as to avoid having Bruce be the bad guy.

How do you possibly spin that that’s for DICK’S BENEFIT?

I’ve said before that I don’t have a problem with Good Dad Bruce Wayne in and of itself, that in fact I WANT that, ideally, I WANT him being a good dad to Dick and the others, being good FOR Dick and the others - and I stand by that!

But when the go-to default method of making this happen always ALWAYS seems to be....’make Bruce better.....by actively making DICK WORSE, so that Good Dad Bruce has an opportunity to actually ride to the rescue in situations that initially, in canon, HE CAUSED, and that DICK had to ride to the rescue on for himself and everyone else, like....we obviously need something for Good Dad Bruce to FIX, to make BETTER, to PARENT....ergo Dick logically has to fuck up some how, NEED Good Dad Bruce to fix it, to tell him its all okay, to make it better in the same way canon expects Dick to make it better for his dad’s fuck ups’.....

Like.

When that’s the modus operandi by which its believed Bruce is being made into or shown as being a better loving, caring, supportive father?

THEN HOUSTON, WE HAVE A FUCKING PROBLEM.

You fundamentally just can not claim to be making things better, healthier, happier FOR a character....by literally writing that character as WORSE than he is in canon, particularly in specific canon instances like the above.

(And on a personal note, I really really wish the people who were as defensive and protective of Good Dad Bruce Wayne and all ensuing fics, headcanons and meta, could be as aware and understanding of the fact that many fans can and DO relate to various Batkids BECAUSE of canon instances of Bad Dad Bruce Wayne, because THAT’S specifically relatable to some of us, and while that doesn’t preclude us from wanting to see the inverse of that just as badly or as often as you do, it does mean it REALLY FUCKING SUCKS to see the kid we acknowledge as having been abused and neglected at key points in canon....ACTIVELY WRITTEN AS BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR THE HARM DONE TO HIM BY HIS OWN CANON ABUSE.)

#abuse cw

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yeoldontknow · 5 years

Text

Totem

Author’s Note: this story is entirely an act of fiction. it contains strong, mature themes and features subjects which may be triggering or uncomfortable to read. these themes include, but not limited to: themes of abduction, references to ptsd, extreme trauma, and paranormal activity. please take these warnings seriously and do not read if any make you uncomfortable. | this story is written as a script, rather than a traditional prose fanfiction. even though its unusual, i still hope you enjoy it <3 happy spooptober! Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (oc; female) Genre: horror; suspense; thriller; haunted house au; light romance; au Summary: What follows is an account of YouTube vloggers Euripet3s1 and theJungProject. This is a report of the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok. Rating: M Warning: themes of abduction/ghostly possession; references to ptsd; extreme trauma; paranormal activity; explicit language; non-explicit nudity; graphic situations Word Count: 5.5K

Towards the end of my research for my Ph.D, I became fascinated by what has recently been cited as the "second wave" of realism films in production, thanks, in part, to the advent of creative social websites like YouTube and Vimeo. The introduction of reality and scripted reality television, alongside its relatively unilateral conjunction with the internet, sparked a new direction in filmmaking that prided itself on low budgets and the autonomy of immediate authorship.

Where Vimeo encouraged, and favoured, well produced filmmaking and art house developments from a range of semi-professionals to professionals, YouTube saw a strong dynamic shift in what eventually was defined as vlogging. Video series like Marble Hornets, Fewdio, and curiously chilling uploads by users such as EverymanHYBRID became cult canon amongst internet users. Instead of humour posts, video game plays, and make-up tutorials, users sought creative expression in 'noise aesthetics' and the horror genre.

On April 30, 2010, YouTube user Euripet3s1 (full name: Y/F/N Y/L/N) uploaded a video entitled #184-190 to her channel of 12,413 subscribers. It would be the final upload she would make before deactivating the account three weeks later, eventually removing herself from social media altogether. The video itself is an account of her trip to England to visit fellow YouTube vlogger and boyfriend theJungProject (full name: Jung Hoseok), who was residing in the country while finishing his degree, depicted through seven pieces of footage taken from video cameras and mobile phones.

Euripet3s1's channel was a comedy and lifestyle channel, in which she would present everyday information in a humorous way. Therefore, the unsettling events in the final video left both fans and casual viewers stunned. Avid fans of the Marble Hornets series were the first to draw attention to the video, before it went viral on hundreds of forums, including Reddit and BuzzFeed. When the users’ account was deactivated, the video was removed from the website only to resurface two months later by user TwerK (full name: Kim Taehyung). There are only two videos on TwerK's channel: #184-190 and Help Explain This.

Help Explain This was filmed in August 2011 and is the last surviving footage of Jung Hoseok.

Numerous attempts at paranormal investigations have occurred in the last two years with no results. Psychics have been brought to every location depicted, though their efforts have been futile. The pocket watch in the film has been defined, by paranormal researcher David Kelwayne, as a totem. To quote David:

"A totem is an item left behind by the dead which they had ascribed deep personal meaning or symbolism during their life. To come into contact with a totem is to contact the spirit attached to it, even if said contact is relatively erroneous; to become connected to the totem is to become connected with the spirit, often permanently" (Seeking Answers: Beginner's Guide To The Paranormal, 54)

This report exists only to present the video as it was found, in its untouched manner, for archival and historical purposes. The research to be found on the events, people, and locations involved has lead many in vast circles and down endless rabbit holes. It is my hope that the academic world will provide its resources for the many seeking answers about what truly happened to Jung Hoseok during that week in April.

Editor’s note: Heretofore, the speakers will be quoted using their first initials rather than their usernames.

#184

Duration: 1:46

[Exterior. Night-vision mid-close up of dirt path. Leaves cover the ground and crunch audibly. Feet remain in view as two persons walk the path in brisk, even steps. A low male voice is heard, his accent distinctly Korean. ]

H: Are you filming, Y/N?

[A second voice speaks, female. She is American]

Y/N: I have no idea. Your camera is weird.

H: It's no different from any American camera. It's a SONY. Has the green dot gone on?

Y/N: Well, it's different in the dark. Yeah, it has.

H: Then it's filming. Point it at your face, dummy.

[Camera is lifted and spun towards the holder's face, the night vision on the camera giving her a blue glow. She is young, no more than 24. The fringe of her hair gets caught in her eyes, trapped there by the hood of her sweater. She smiles brightly, waving at the camera momentarily.]

Y/N: And so we meet again! Today I am joined by theJungProject -

[camera pans left. A young man, also no more than 24, is walking briskly with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He squints at the light of the camera and pulls a face by sticking out his tongue]

- say hi, Hobi.

H: [nods once] Hello, Tiddy Harem.

Y/N [sighing]: Must you call them that?

H: [shaking black hair out of his eyes; he sniffs, not looking at the camera] You have thirteen thousand subscribers and 12,950 of them are men. Yeah, I'd say it's a harem.

Y/N: [snorting] I do not have thirteen thousand. And that's an insult to my fifty female subscribers.

H: You know I’m playing. [sniffs] You have fantastic tits, though.

Y/N: You’re literally disgusting. [turns camera back to her face] So, as you all remember I landed last night in Heathrow, after which I got embarrassingly drunk on incredible beer. We spent most of the day being hungover before getting on a train from - what station was it?

H: [in background] Liverpool Street.

Y/N: Right, yeah. We got a train from there to here, [pulls camera back to wave hand, denoting surrounding location] which is apparently Suffolk…specifically Sudbury. We had a grand idea to go to the Borley Rectory because I'm in England and apparently that means it's okay for Hobi to go on a midnight ghost hunt.

H: I'm not ghost hunting, I'm just…exploring.

Y/N: [faces camera; raises one eyebrow]

[Camera turns off]

~~~

#185

Duration: 7:08

[Interior; night. Camera pans from left to right as Y/N breathes heavily. The windows of the rectory are shattered. Leaves scatter the concrete floor. What little furniture existing within the house has been tattered and worn over time, the sheen of its once extraordinary grandeur decayed with dust and time. Y/N walks to her right, into a small dining area. The camera pans over a wooden table that is badly scratched, three long distinct marks marring the mahogany. A hand comes into view, Y/N’s, as she runs her fingers over the marks. The camera pans up and to the left, showing cabinets that are missing their drawers. She leaves the room, slowly walking towards the foyer. A mirror hangs on the wall, the light reflecting off the glass into the lens. She waves.]

H: [distantly; calling] Baby, come up here.

[Y/N head turns right, facing the direction of Hoseok’s voice. The camera turns right as she walks straight back toward a carpeted staircase. Slowly, she ascends it, her footsteps quiet and muffled by both the camera and the foliage. She sniffles. As she approaches the landing, a painting of a pasture comes into view. It is crooked. When she reaches the landing, the camera moves from right to left. There are three bedrooms]

Y/N: [loud whisper] Where are you?

H: [voice from left] In here.

[Camera passes through a doorway. Long shot of Hoseok at chest of drawers to the left. There is an empty bed on the right side of the room, the mattress bare and torn. The video pixelates for approximately two seconds, correcting itself. The windows of the bedroom are in tact, though the carpet has been ripped up from the floor in a seemingly random pattern. Y/N walks to where Hoseok is standing. Atop the chest are several items: a broken hairbrush, a small empty picture frame, an empty ring box and a pocket watch. Y/N zooms in on the pocket watch. Hoseok picks it up, his grip indelicate. Y/N turns the camera, and zooms out to a medium close up of Hoseok’s face as he inspects it]

H: [whispers] This rectory had hundreds of residents before it was condemned. I wonder whose this was.

Y/N: [also in a whisper] Hobi, this place was destroyed by a fire in 1939. Isn't it weird to you that there's still…..things, objects…belongings in here? Nothing seems terribly ruined.

[Pause. Hoseok does not reply. Y/N returns the subject to the pocket watch, appeasing him by maintaining focus on the object though her discomfort is evident.] It looks really old. Can't be from any time after 1920, look at the design. Early surrealist or something.

H: [humming in interest] How do you know that?

Y/N: I’m taking art history for my electives. I’m just saying it looks like something I’ve seen.

[The camera zooms back on to the pocket watch in Hoseok’s hand. There is a patch of dirt along the rim of the cover, but an intricate design of intertwined clock hands and numbers is distinct.]

H: This is mental. You know the more you look at it, the more it resembles a kind of face. Like from a masquerade.

[Long pause]

Y/N: I don't see it. Where are you looking?

[Hoseok’s thumb comes into view. It presses the button on the side to open the watch. The cover pops open with a soft click, revealing an elegant Victorian clock face.]

H: Too much to ask for it to be working, isn't it. [laughs]

Y/N: Probably needs to be wound.

[Hoseok closes the pocket watch.]

[Cut. Interior. Y/N thuds down the stairs after Hoseok, hands clasped and both laughing They come to a stop in the parlor. Hoseok inspects bookshelves, looking for something or nothing, running his fingers over the dusted wood. Y/N turns the camera away and zooms in on a picture frame. It is badly singed. The image of a woman, who looks almost sad, is barely discernible.]

Y/N: [muttering] Something about this……isn't……

[The sound of piano notes echo loudly through the room. Y/N screams loudly, swears, and is visibly shaken as she turns toward the noise. Hoseok sits at a piano by the back of the room, playing Erik Satie's "Gnossienne No. 1." He is chuckling. Y/N approaches him.]

Y/N: There's a fucking piano?

H: [plays uninterrupted] Scare you, did I?

Y/N: Hobi, is there anything about this that's ok? You said this place was destroyed by a fire and has been abandoned. Logic this out for me: why would there be a piano in a burned down house? Wouldn't the city have this cleared out?

[Hoseok shrugs]

Y/N: I think we should go.

H: Don't want to spend the night here? We haven't seen anything yet.

Y/N: I paid £35 for a train ticket to this hell. I'll cut my losses and say we’ve seen plenty enough, okay?

H: [expression softening, he stops playing. The silence is deafening.] Okay, baby, we can go.

[Cut. Exterior. Y/N and Hoseok walking along a residential sidewalk. Hoseok is holding the camera this time, pointed at Y/N in a long shot. Night vision is switched off, faces now illuminated by street lamps they pass. He whistles seductively.]

H: [whispering] Don’t tell anyone until she watches this guys...but I think I’m in love with her. [He turns the camera to face him. The camera zooms out to fit his face.] I mean it. [He looks over the camera to her.] I love her.

Y/N: [distant, off camera] What are you whining about back there?

H: [laughing, he catches up with Y/N and aims the camera at her profile] Say what you said again.

Y/N: [biting her cheek, but smiling nonetheless] I said you're a twunt.

H: Look at that! Y/N has spent 30 hours in this country and is already adopting its language.

Y/N: Yeah, well you are. Tell the audience what you did.

H: [turns the camera to his face and holds it out. His leather jacket is unzipped, revealing A Horrors band-tee shirt] I've been a naughty boy. [His other hand reaches into his pocket. He pulls out the pocket watch] Y/N’s upset with me because I wanted a souvenir.

Y/N: It's not yours, Hoseok.

H: [turns his face to Y/N, camera still aimed at himself. He puts the watch back in his pocket] It's technically not anyone's. Besides, this is one thing we could at least fix.

[Camera turns off]

#186

Duration: 2:01

[Interior. Hotel bedroom. Y/N sits at the desk provided, laptop open as she uploads footage from the video camera onto her computer. Her back is to the camera. The pocket watch twirls in front of the screen. Hoseok hums. The camera flips, revealing his face. It is clear he is filming on his iPhone. He starts to mouth lyrics to "Don't Stop Me Now," which is playing in the background. He flips the camera back to the watch.]

Y/N: [turns her head quickly over shoulder] Holy shit, come look at this.

[Hoseok drops the pocket watch and hoists himself off the sofa. He is wearing plaid flannel pants. He approaches the desk, leaning against the back of Y/N’s chair and extending his arm as he films.]

H: [kissing Y/N’s head off camera, voice muffled] What is it?

Y/N: You tell me. [looks back at Hoseok, anxious]

[Y/N has Final Cut open. She presses play on footage taken earlier in the evening. She has selected footage from when he ascended the stairs and entered the master bedroom. It plays without sound.]

H: What am I looking for….I don't…

Y/N: [quietly] Just wait.

[The footage shows the camera panning through the room. As it comes to the bed, the footage warps, revealing a figure wearing black sitting on the mattress. It turns to look at the camera. It is wearing a white mask. The footage warps again. The figure is gone]

H: [reels back] What the fuck is that?! Did you put that in there?

Y/N: [turns to look at Hoseok] No. How would I do that?

H: [words unsteady] I don't know, you're the film wizard. I still use iMovie. Maybe you have clever special effects or something.

Y/N: I can assure you that I have no idea how to superimpose an image that clear onto digital footage. I took one semester of New Media, I'm hardly advanced.

H: How did you not see it when you were filming?

Y/N: I don't know, the camera went all pixelated when I was filming but I just thought the battery was running low or something.

H: You better not be having me off.

Y/N: [brow furrowed, disbelieving] What does that sentence even mean?

H: Is this punishment for taking the pocket watch?

Y/N: [pursing her lips briefly before she speaks] I'm really not that upset about the pocket watch. Why would I do that?

H: Whatever. Let's just go to bed and forget about it. I don’t want this to turn into a fight.

Y/N: Fine by me.

[Video ends]

~~~

#187

Duration: 0:53

[Interior. Mid-Day. Close up of Y/N’s face. She stares at something out of view. Behind her, the scenery has changed. Band posters line the green wall, gig tickets and setlists framed next to them. This is what many assume is Hoseok’s bedroom.]

Y/N: [whispers] He's been like this all morning. I have no idea what the hell is going on. He was fine yesterday when we got back from Borley. Fine when we went to lunch, fine when we went to The Borderline for the Lescop gig. Now, he won't stop staring at that goddamn pocket watch. Look.

[The camera is flipped, again the film is from an iPhone. Hoseok sits shirtless on the bed, hickeys dotting his neck and collarbone, the pocket watch in his left hand. He stares almost impassively at it.]

Y/N: [loudly] Hobi.

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [louder] Hoseok, what the fuck are you doing?

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [mutters quietly] Jesus Christ.

[The camera tilts and wobbles, tipping down for a moment as Y/N bends to pick something up. A shoe is thrown in frame and lands on the bed right next to Hoseok. Hoseok lifts his head, dropping the watch. He smiles]

H: Want breakfast, baby?

Y/N: [long pause; quiet breathing] Uh huh.

[video ends]

~~~~

#188

Duration: 3:21

[Exterior. Mid-Day. Extreme long shot of Hoseok as he stands in front of a wooden sign that says Boxer's Lake. From the pockets of his leather jacket he pulls the pocket watch]

H: [looking over his shoulder; calls] You sure this is a good idea.

Y/N: [loudly; voice garbled by wind into microphone] You should have seen yourself, Hobi. It's gotta be the watch and I don’t want to go back there to return it.

[Hoseok reels back and throws the watch into the lake. He stares after it, shoulders drooped and jaw tense]

[Cut. Interior of a car. Hoseok is driving. Y/N points the camera at his face.]

Y/N: How do you feel?

H: Like my soul has been ripped from my chest.

[Pauses. Looks at Y/N]

H: [bursts into laughter] Chill out, baby. I feel fine.

Y/N: [laughs weakly]

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s kitchen. Y/N films as Hoseok brews tea.]

H: You want any, love?

Y/N: Nah, water is fine.

H: [looks up at camera] Are you going to film everything?

Y/N: We have an interested audience. Need to keep them satisfied. And besides, I’m only here for a week. I want to remember everything with you.

H: [begins to pull off shirt, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.]

Y/N: [laughter] Don’t start with that!

H: [straightens and flattens shirt] You said satisfied! Y/N: [still laughing] Yeah, well, that’s just for me and I’d like to keep it that way.

[Hoseok bites his lip, happy, and walks to a cabinet to the left. He makes to open it, but his attention is brought to something on the counter beneath it. He pauses. His hand slowly drops from the knob of the cabinet. The colour drains from his face]

Y/N: What?

[Hoseok brings his eyes to the camera, lips parted. He is visibly disturbed. He lifts his right hand. He holds up the pocket watch. Y/N’s breath becomes heavy and labored]

H: [voice small] What the fuck.

[Camera shuts off]

~~~

#189

Duration: 8:32

[Interior. Mid-Day. Hoseok’s car, again. Y/N holds the camera as Hoseok drives, lens pointed out the windshield]

Y/N: Slow down, Hobi.

H: [voice hollow] No. The fucking watch is ticking…and existing. How is any of what just happened possible?

Y/N: I don't know, I don't know.

H: This is fucking twisted.

Y/N: What are you going to do?

H: Leave it in a field? Pawn it off? Whatever, as long as it's far away from me.

Y/N: Why not burn it?

H: Any fire I make wouldn't get the metal hot enough.

Y/N: Just don't get reckless. [Pleading] Please, baby?

[Cut. Interior. A Pawnshop. The camera pans along a shelf. Various objects come into focus. A door opens and an older man comes into view from the back of the store. To the left of the frame, Hoseok walks over and introduces himself]

H: Hi. Uhm, I'm Hoseok. I need to sell a pocket watch?

[The store clerk looks from Hoseok to Y/N]

Clerk: Get your mate to turn the camera off and then we can do business.

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s car. Y/N has rested the camera on the dashboard, pointed at the passing scenery]

H: WOOOO! £650 for a shitty old watch!!

Y/N: I think the fact that it was still working was what sold him.

H: Who knows how long it will work for. We practically robbed him.

Y/N: You practically robbed him. I almost got thrown out for having a camera.

H: Eh. He was probably drunk from boredom. I would be, too, if I had to sit in silence eight hours a day.

[Cut. Interior. Night. Hoseok’s kitchen. Hoseok presses play on his answering machine as he takes off his coat. Y/N sits at a chair at the kitchen table and zooms in on a Sainsbury's frozen dinner.]

Y/N: Mmmmmm.

[In the background, a voice is heard on the answering machine.]

Recorded Voice: Mr. Jung. It's Geoff. You sold me a watch not two hours ago. I’d like to make it clear I don't appreciate being fucked with. [Y/N brings the camera around, landing on Hoseok who is paused at his refrigerator staring at the machine, frowning.] I get enough shit in my town, and I certainly don't need non-locals breezing through and pulling pranks. I'm giving you twenty-four hours to return the watch or my money to the store. If you don't, I'm calling the cops and we can settle this with legal action. [Machine beeps]

[Hoseok remains paused at the refrigerator - frozen. He begins to visibly tense and Y/N gets up from the kitchen table. She approaches him slowly, before Hoseok slams the refrigerator door shut and rushes into the living room]

Y/N: [shouts] Hoseok!

H: [yells] Where the fuck is it? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?

[Y/N enters the living room and turns right. Hoseok is standing in front of his mantle, hitting his chest with the flat of his palms. He stares at the ceiling and screams]

H: [still yelling] YOU CAN HAVE YOUR FUCKING WATCH BACK, I DON'T WANT IT.

Y/N: [yelling over Hoseok] HOSEOK, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE.

H: [looks at Y/N] Of course there is! How else would any of this be happening? [Turns abruptly and heads down the hallway. He disappears into his room.

Y/N: Fuck’s sake.

[Y/N follows and enters Hoseok’s room. Hoseok is pulling books out of shelves. He abandons that project and quickly goes to his bed, where he up-turns his mattress]

H: [yelling again] WHERE IS IT, HUH?

Y/N: Hoseok, calm the hell down!

[Hoseok turns and rushes past Y/N. Y/N follows]

Y/N: Hoseok, ripping up the house isn't going to solve anything!

H: It's not in my room, it's not in the kitchen. It makes itself known, right? It wants to fucking be seen. The goddamn ATTENTION WHORE.

Y/N: It's an inanimate object, Hoseok, stop!

[Hoseok stomps into the kitchen and picks up his jacket. He pauses for a moment, softening, and reaches into a pocket. He pulls out the watch]

H: [staring at the watch] Something…someone…whatever…wants me to have this. I don't. Fucking. Want it.

[**In the recorded footage, a voice is heard. It clearly says “But you took it.” Neither Y/N nor Hoseok reacts to it and neither has spoken. This voice was pointed out by YouTube user Sarkozam12**]

[camera turns off]

~~~

#190

Duration: 8:00

[Interior. Night. The couches and chairs have been removed from Hoseok’s living room. Two pillows are placed on the ground, side by side, beneath the coffee table where a ouija board as been set up. The scene is lit by numerous candles along the floor and mantle. Fingers over the microphone cause muffled noises and garbled sounds. Hoseok enters from frame right. He sits, in jeans a tee shirt, on one of the pillows. He takes a swig of cider before setting it next to him. He looks slightly above the camera.]

Y/N: [off camera] This is a terrible idea, Hobi.

H: [solemn] Is the camera set up?

Y/N: [pauses, sighs] Yeah, it's just about.done tightening the tripod.

H: Good.

[Y/N enters from the bottom of frame left. It's a long shot of the living room. Y/N sits next to Hoseok. They look at each other briefly. Hoseok draws his eyes away and onto the Oujia board. Y/N’s brow furrows, and she reaches to twine her fingers with Hoseok’s. The contact has him return his gaze to hers, smiling before he leans in and kisses her deeply. Pulling back, he kisses her knuckles three times. Hoseok’s expression hardens]

H: [quietly] I love you.

Y/N: [smiling; quietly] I’m still not used to you saying that. [pauses] I love you, too.

H: [inhaling deeply] Let's do this.

[Y/N pauses. Hoseok looks at her, concerned.]

H: Don't tell me you're quitting on this.

Y/N: [looks at the ground] Ouija boards are scary, serious shit, Hoseok. I don't think we should fuck around with this. We’ve already fucked up so much shit.

H: [shaking his head] I fucked up. And I just don’t know what other choice I have.

[Y/N pauses briefly, hesitating before leaning in to kiss him once more. They whisper to one another as they break apart, kissing for a few more seconds before separating fully. Pulling her hand from his, she sighs and places both hands on the planchette. Hoseok follows suit and does the same]

H: [uncomfortable] What do I say?

Y/N: [loudly] Is there anyone here with us?

[They remain quiet and wait. The planchette does not move.]

H: What if we contact Zozo? That's the opposite of what I want.

Y/N: [giggling, though her sense of amusement is unconvicing] Don't be stupid.

[Both are silenced by the planchette which has started to move in swirls across the board.]

H: Is that you?

Y/N: No, I'm barely touching this.

H: [shaking his head] It's not me.

[The planchette stops on the word 'Bye']

H: [pauses] Well, that's sinister.

[The video warps into pixels and corrects itself. Three candles have been blown out. Y/N is panicked]

Y/N: What the fuck did that?

H: [loudly] What is your name?

[The planchette moves, quickly. Y/N says the letters it stops on.]

Y/N: L…A…I…R…R…E. D…D…D…E…A…T…H.

H: Lairreedddeath? The hell?

Y/N: I'm busy focusing on the part that - [The video warps. the masked figure from #186 appears behind Hoseok, getting closer after each pixel correction. A white hand with sharp nails reaches for his neck. It disappears] in the fire?

[The Marimba ringtone of an iPhone goes off]

H: Shit. That's mine.

Y/N: Leave it.

[The planchette spins out of control and falls from the table onto the floor. All the candles are blown out at the same time, though there is no wind to disrupt the atmosphere. The camera shifts to night vision. Both draw their attention to the bright light from the camera]

Y/N: Does your camera shift modes automatically?

H: No, what -

[A loud thud is heard, the sound of a door slamming open to the left, its metal knob hitting the wall. The door to what is considered a broom closet has flung open, but its interior is black and occasionally blurred by pixelated static. Y/N turns to look at the noise, but Hoseok disappears from view. We hear him scream]

Y/N: Hoseok?!? [Y/N searches frantically for where the sound is coming from. She turns her attention back to the door, eyes wide in alarm.] Hoseok?

[Y/N gets up and approaches the closet but the door slams shut. The lights of the house come on. Y/N opens the door to the closet. It is just a closet. The tripod falls over. The screen goes blue and flashes NO BATTERY]

~~~

Given the found footage nature of the editing and the allusion by Hoseok that Y/N was proficient in film editing, at least once mentioning the capability of using special effects in post production, many of the initial viewers of #186-190 believed the story of Hoseok’s disappearance was a clever hoax. While this report remains unbiased, it is important to point out several facts.

Firstly, it is true that Jung Hoseok went missing from his shared home April 25, 2010. The phone call received on his mobile during #190 was from his mother, mentioned in Y/F/N Y/L/N’s police report, who had not seen her son since April 11, 2010. Secondly, the pocket watch, and the clothing in which Hoseok disappeared in, have never been found. Until August 2011, the footage captured during #190 depicted the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok.

When Y/N deactivated her account, #184-190 was removed from YouTube in accordance with YouTube’s privacy policies, however not before user TwerK had downloaded the video to a flash drive. In June of 2010, the video was uploaded to Kim Taehyung’s channel, with reasons citing the urgency for fans and interested parties to continue to study the video - i.e in search of clues or proof of a hoax. It is worth noting that while there is a well documented friendship and romantic relationship between Euripet3s1 and theJungProject (ie: both were subscribers to each other's channels, the earliest comments on each party's videos date back to 2008, Euripet3s1 tagged theJungProject in a video called Top 10 Films of 2009, etc) TwerK did not subscribe to either channel, nor has he confessed to knowing either personally.

It is because of these reasons that the footage in Help Explain This is, in a word, astounding. The film itself was uploaded with a description consisting of a personal plea from Taehyung to help explain what he had caught. Once the video was live, Taehyung experienced a brief period of notoriety on the internet, while simultaneously going under fire by those close to Hoseok who called his video 'tactless and offensive.'

It is also worth noting that Y/N has become reclusive since these events and has not been available for comment since late 2010, on advice from her therapist.

Help Explain This

Duration: 4:03

[Interior. Mid-Day. Footsteps thud up the stairs of Borley Rectory. The camera is pointed at the landing, but the painting is gone. The person arrives at the landing and he speaks. He is Korean.]

T: Okay. So. Kim Taehyung here. I’m sorry in advance for any English mistakes, but a few subscribers wanted me to visit the rectory while I am here on vacation. Yes, yes, I know it's weird that my YouTube channel only has one video on it, but some of you on Reddit convinced me to make this. Here we are [Camera pans right to left, light pours in from holes in the ceiling. The home appears to be empty.]. Exact same spot where Euripet3s1 stood. As you can see there is no painting on the wall. Ehm.

[He turns to his left and enters the bedroom, panning the camera right to left as Y/N had done. A naked figure stands in the back right corner of the bedroom, his back to the camera, facing the wall]

T: Again, the room is completely empty. The walls are badly burned. I know you all want to believe this was a hoax, but there's no way these two had the budget. You can't even get up the stairs easily without worrying about falling through.

[He turns left, zooming to an extreme long shot. The right side of the room out of frame.]

T: This is where theJungProject found the pocket watch. No chest of drawers here. [Camera pans down, showing his feet] You can see the boards of the floor are burned. I'm too afraid to even put weight there. [He presses his foot to the floor, retracting it immediately.]

[Raising the camera, he turns the camera back to right, slightly, showing the whole of the room. The figure from the corner has turned around and is standing naked in a full body shot. The camera pixelates. The figure is now close to the lens, able to be viewed from the middle of the waist up. His mouth and eyes are wide open, but blackened as though holes. The figure is clearly Jung Hoseok.]

T: That's it, then. Sorry the video was so lame.

[He turns and leaves the room. The camera does one last pan from the landing back to the room. The foyer below is empty. The room he had just exited is empty]

Fin.

Author’s Note #2: The locations in this story - Borley Rectory, Boxer's Lake, Liverpool Street Station, Suffolk, and Sudbury - are all real places. Borley Rectory was known as 'the most haunted house in England' and it did get severely burned in 1939. There is actually a woman who haunted the building named Marie Lairre.

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usernames-aren-t-myforte · 6 years

Text

You (2018)

Alright, so I’m gonna try my best to articulate my feelings about this show, and more specifically, it’s main character Joe Goldberg.

So first off, this show... is definitely an intense ride. Technically it’s not perfect (really, what is), but I feel like it’s quality is higher than most things we’ve been given in the last several years. Underneath all the action and drama, there’s a real sincerity and deep character study here. And in all honesty, that is what I live for, and crave most in my shows/movies. So the fact that I have tons of thoughts about it from the get-go, and that it can spark real discussion among its viewers, makes me happy beyond belief.

There are a lot of interesting and clever things about this story. One of which that stood out to me first was that, this is a stalker story from a man’s POV, written by a woman. Now of course, a good writer can make any believable character, so I’m not saying this is out of complete and utter shock or anything. I just think it adds more to how impressively real and genuine this story feels. I’m not an expert on what goes on in a male mind, but reading the book, and watching the show, Caroline Kepnes made capturing a man’s thought process seem effortless, and I am a little blown away by that. I think it’s fantastic. So right away, as a woman, I’m intrigued with getting such a close peek into what’s going on in the brain of someone of the opposite sex. Who doesn’t want that when they get the chance?

Which leads me to the next point I appreciate: it almost feels like we, the audience/reader are being invasive too. I don’t know about you guys, but I became very aware (especially while reading the book) that we weren’t invited into this guy’s head by him. We’re just there. Snooping into his life and his stalker ways. It feels a little like this scene in the show:

(Which is my absolute FAVORITE omg 😂😂😂😂😂)

So in some ways, it feels like you’re mirroring Joe a little bit. You’re watching/reading this guy’s every move, and making your own judgements and conclusions on them. Plus, the intense curiosity I got while reading the book/watching the show, made me ravenous for more. I devoured this book/show, and would have continued to, no matter how long this story went on. So all at once it seems to make me feel more relatable to Joe, while also feeling a little hypocritical as I judge his thoughts and actions from afar. I think deep down we’re all, to some degree, a little inappropriately nosy and curious. Especially when we have the opportunity to be. So right away going in, on this very vague basis, I can honestly say I relate to Joe a little bit. That said, here is where I’m going to try and explain my feelings about Joe. Hopefully I’ll be able to convey my thoughts clearly, because when it comes to the more serious stuff like this, I believe it’s important for there to be no misunderstandings.

Okay. So Joe Goldberg. This slippery little weasel right here.

Yes, I will start by saying that he is hot, he is attractive, and there is an appealing quality to him. I don’t think it’s wrong to admit that. However, there are some glaring flaws that cannot and should not be ignored. I will get to that in a second. But first, I want to touch on some of the surface things that drew me in about this guy, and makes me uncomfortably aware of the fact that if I didn’t know his dirt, I’d totally be into him.

He’s smart. He’s well read. The man loves books. I love books. Watching him rebind a damaged hardcover would be a satisfying date for me, I’m not going to lie.

#2, he’s funny.

#3, on the surface (and I can’t stress that statement enough ON THE SURFACE) he makes for a pretty dang decent boyfriend.

#4, when he’s correct about what’s right,

#5, again, he’s pretty relatable sometimes

#6, he seems pretty good at *ahem*

You know. Which is always nice.

But that’s the surface stuff. Now it’s time for the nitty gritty. The really important part.

There is a strong Ted Bundy flavor here. He doesn’t seem menacing. He just seems like your every-day, relatable, charming, attractive guy. You wouldn’t feel threatened by him at all if you met him. Even someone as smart as Beck fell for it.

He was very good at putting his best foot forward. Hence the surface stuff. Hence the attraction we may feel despite ourselves. However, I do sympathize with him to some degree. And here’s why. Unlike Ted Bundy, I don’t get the impression that Joe has a bloodlust. Ted Bundy would go and meet women, charm them, woo them, lure them in with the express intention of killing them. That was his endgame. He craved the feeling he got when he tortured, raped, and killed women.

^ Now Joe IS a killer. There is no sidestepping that. But the reason he feels he can claim he’s not is because, unlike Mr. Bundy, Joe’s motivation with selecting his next girl isn’t murder. It’s finding “love”, in his mind. So I do sympathize with him to some degree, because I can’t label him as a monster, or 100% evil. His surface stuff wasn’t a complete sham. It was merely the best version of himself. His good side. The side of himself he let others see. That’s another way we’re vaguely relatable. We all try to hide the less-than-savory side of ourselves. The only difference is: Joe’s “bad side” is incredibly dangerous.

So while his motivation was different, his threat level is still very much up there.

I also got the impression that all the stuff he said about his thoughts on love and wanting to “make it work”- he really believed what he was saying. He genuinely felt that way, regardless of how skewed his perception of the situation was. So while his actions were undeniably wrong, I could feel for the guy, and at least relate to the view he tries to get across. That said, the main problem with Joe is that his reactions are extreme. Especially in the book, the man can be very bipolar. When he perceives things are going well, he’s on top of the world. And when he thinks things are going sour, he’s completely in the pits and hates everything. The man is unstable. No matter how much we can understand his desires or his thought process, the truth of the matter is- he does not function properly. It is important to see him for what he is. But at the same time, I feel it’s okay to feel bad about that. He’s clearly messed up, but it’s okay to still see him as human. Like someone else said in the tag, humanizing =/= excusing. As long as you’re not ride or die with all of his murdering and stalking, it’s okay to sympathize for him. It’s okay to relate. It’s okay to understand his perspective. But it’s equally important to grasp the reality of the character. He is a danger to the public. He is not fit to roam free.

In all fairness, I think they did make him a tad more sympathetic in the show. Because like I said earlier, in the book he was more bipolar, while in the show, he was more consistent in his intense optimism about his relationship with Beck. To watch this unstable guy want something so much, something most of us want, is the most relatable thing there is.

It’s a thing we generally want most people to enjoy. That’s where the main conflict inside me comes from. Love is a pure thing. And lasting romantic bliss is something most of us wish to attain. So to watch this guy who’s clearly unfit for it, but still genuinely wants it SO badly, makes my heart go out to him a little. Emotionally he is this wounded bird, while in every other way he most definitely is NOT.

Beck said it best when she pointed out that, no matter his intention, it was not his place to fix her life. It was HER life, HER choices. We might objectively see how a certain change could improve someone’s life, but their life is ultimately their own, and we have no right to take charge away from how they choose to lead it. We can only try and find someone who makes decisions we can generally agree with and stand by. This is something Joe couldn’t understand. He sees a girl he likes, he puts her on a pedestal, and he immediately gets to work trying to “help” her, to “save” her. His perception is off on how a relationship works, and what being a “good boyfriend” means. And again, what messes with your head a little bit, is that he’s not 100% off. On the surface, he’s a great boyfriend. But his bad side makes him feel like it’s his duty to “protect” his girlfriend in ways that aren’t acceptable or okay. And he doesn’t realize that his “bad side” is wrong, and proportionally way off from a normal person’s.

The ideal solution would be for him to go to a mental hospital and get help. But realistically, he’d probably be able to talk his way out of there. So unfortunately, the only place for him is prison. He is a dangerous man. There is no overlooking it.

I think in a nutshell, my main feeling toward this character is a big ‘If only’. If only he were stable, if only his mental health could be improved, if only he had proper boundaries, if only he didn’t kill people. But we have to face the music. No matter how badly we feel for him, and wish for better- the reality is, he’s a dangerous criminal. There’s nothing romantic about that. Plenty to sympathize with, but nothing to excuse. He is ultimately the villain, though he sees himself as, and tries hard to be, the hero. We can’t separate the bad from the good inside him, no matter how much we might want to. Joe Goldberg is an amazing character. He’s intriguing, he’s interesting, he’s fascinating, he’s entertaining. But at the end of the day, you don’t want to date him. Amazingly written, sympathetic character does not always equal good boyfriend material. Ship him with his mental health instead.

All in all, a solid 9 out of 10.

#You #you netflix #joe goldberg #I really really hope I expressed myself well enough #it's important to me that my stand with this character is clear as crystal #I’d like to think I have a good balance between sympathetic and realistic

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scripttorture · 5 years

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My story is set in Spain in the period of Philippe II's reign-the golden era of the inquisition. The character is a nobleman(a marquis) and a king's favourite and is deeply involved in the revolutionary actions of the Flanders, oppressed by Spain. When it's discovered, he is given to the inquisition, tortured and burned at stake eventually. My question is, any ideas for rly painful torture that don't result in death? Also how long should the tortures last before carrying out the death sentence?

I am extremely uncomfortable with the idea of saying there’s a ‘golden age’ for an organisation dedicated to genocide.

In modern terms the Inquisition committed war crimes. They were responsible for religious violence across three or four continents. They played a role in the genocide against Native peoples in the Caribbean, South America and Central America. They carried out genocidal policies against European Jews and Muslims and Europe’s Black and Arab populations.

They were murderers, torturers and rapists who profited from their crimes on a colossal scale. Do not idealise these people.

This was not success. This was Europe at its lowest. The beginning of a global campaign of violence and oppression.

I understand that chances are you’re not European, not from one of the groups the Inquisition targetted and perhaps only passingly familiar with what they did.

Hell, you could be white and Spanish and not have a very clear idea of what they did. I know from personal experience that the way this sort of history is taught can be very skewed. The version of Greek and Cypriot history my father tried to pass along certainly was and if I had not grown up surrounded by friends from the groups that ‘history’ vilified I would probably never have questioned it.

It’s OK if you don’t know something. That’s why I’m here. And I’m not angry at you, I’m angry that this organisation existed and that these atrocities were allowed to happen.

If you’re writing about the Inquisition now be aware of what they were. And be aware that you writing during a time when anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, racism and ethnic tension are rising across Europe. People are being attacked now. Remember that as you’re writing about a group that murdered these same people in the past.

Remember Alhambra. Remember that the Roman Empire recruited soldiers from all over Europe, the Middle East and North Africa and stationed them in all sorts of places.

We have always been here.

Getting on the questions- All torture is really painful. And all torture can kill.

Some tortures are more likely to kill, especially in particular circumstances. But all of them can. If you’re approaching this story with the assumption that torture can be harmless or that some tortures are ‘not that bad’, then- you need to start by address those assumptions.

I’ve written about the effects of torture here. I’ve written about common misconceptions here. I’ve written about the way people wrongly assume clean (non-scarring) tortures are less harmful here.

These attitudes matter because they effect the way we as societies deal with survivors now.

I can give you some suggestions for tortures the Inquisition used, how they killed and the factors that would have made death more likely. But I strongly suggest you think about why you’re using torture in your story.

What is it adding here? Did you actively choose to include it or are you including it because you feel you have to?

If you feel you can’t convey that torture is painful to your audience then- I don’t think you should try tackling it just yet. If you struggle to understand the pain survivors experience then I think you need to take the time to gain that understanding before you write their experience.

You are writing a real, lived experience. That’s something I think we all need to remember as we write. Sci fi, fantasy and history may seem like they’re providing distance; this is an illusion.

People still get burned alive. People are still tortured. A lot.

These people deserve our respect. And I think they should be in our minds if we’re writing about what they lived through.

And you are talking about things that have happened to people recently. Despite what people seem to think clean tortures have a long history; many of the things the Inquisition used against people are being used today across the world. Most of the scarring tortures they used were in use within living memory.

The tortures I hear ascribed to the Inquisition most regularly (in Europe) are pumping, a form of suspension I usually call strappado (with the arms tied behind the body), burning tortures and dislocation of joints by various methods. I also found references to whipping. Given the time period I find it hard to believe that beating, starvation, dehydration and torturous prison conditions were not also in use.

Once again, all of these can kill.

Death was a lot more likely in historical settings without hygiene facilities or effective treatment for infections.

Beating and whipping kill by causing kidney failure. The destruction of muscles causes large proteins to enter the bloodstream. The body sends these to the kidneys. When they reach a quantity the kidneys can’t deal with then the kidneys fail and the victim dies.

This can be days after the injuries that caused death.

Burning tortures, in a filthy environment, meant a high chance of lethal infections. The Inquisition usually burnt the feet. Most of the descriptions I have seem to be tying the legs together and putting the feet in or very close to a fire. Witness accounts occasionally describe burns deep enough to expose the bone.

Some people with these injuries survived but- frankly the odds were against them. Burns that deep over a relatively large area can just kill. (I am unsure how exactly burns lead to death). Surviving the burn itself would only be the first step though. The chances of infection afterwards are high and that could also be life threatening.

After that with a really deep burn there’s a good chance the leg would just die off and start to rot while attached to the survivor. Which would kill them. Cutting off the affected limb is (so far as I know) the only treatment available. This would have been much less survivable in the time of the Inquisition. Death from blood loss and death from infection would have been common.

Starving to death due to being unable to work was also a strong possibility- remember the Inquisition commonly confiscated the property of anyone they arrested. Victims were released into poverty.

That was also a strong possibility for survivors of strappado. Victims were hoisted into the air by their arms, which were tied behind their back, and they were then dropped. This was done repeatedly.

This dislocated the shoulders and damaged muscles, ligaments and nerves throughout the arms. This essentially meant that on release, even with the best possible recovery, survivors lost a lot of mobility and fine motor control in their hands and arms. It was disabling.

As with beating, repeated use could cause enough muscle damage to just kill. A common ‘accident’ was lifting the victim too high (or for the victim to fall badly) breaking major bones in the legs or arms.

Tight restraints around the arms could cut off circulation, this creates large blood clots that lead to strokes and heart attacks. It can also block off the flow of blood to the limb, causing the limb to die and rot.

The last of the common tortures on the list, pumping, was clean but could also kill.

Pumping involves forcing a victim to swallow large quantities of liquid until their organs swell up. This causes a lot of pain. It also causes vomiting and diarrhoea. Some of the modern descriptions I have of pumping describe liquid flowing out of ever orifice. It is messy, smelly and incredibly painful.

Victims can drown while being pumped. The equipment the Inquisition used was not complex, torture equipment never is. They stuck large funnels into victims mouth and kept on pouring water. This can easily choke someone or just fill their lungs with water. It can also cause damage to the throat which, once again, could lead to a deadly infection.

Because pumping causes diarrhoea it also increases the chances of serious infection in pre-existing wounds.

None of this means your character ‘should’ die before being executed. But the way this ask is phrased makes me think you’ve got a lot of misconceptions about both torture and the Spanish Inquisition. This blog is about helping authors understand how to write torture realistically and respectfully- sometimes that means providing information that seems tangential to the question in order to put the question in context.

‘How long’- my instinct is that this isn’t the most useful question in this scenario. A time frame for each individual torture used doesn’t actually tell you much about how the Inquisition operated. And my instinct, from the way you’ve described your story, is that knowing how they operated will be more useful.

Prisoners were commonly held by the Inquisition for months at a time but they weren’t constantly tortured during that period.

The pattern survivors describe is bouts of torture interspersed with periods of physical recovery. The accounts I have don’t all provide coherent time lines, which is normal for torture survivors (it’s to do with the way torture effects memory). But there’s a general pattern here.

It seems as though victims were targetted for torture in their first week of captivity. I would guess (based on descriptions) that they were tortured for several hours at a time for 3-4 days in a row. They were then often left alone for a period of time. They would be tortured again sporadically for the rest of their imprisonment.

The Inquisition did not tend to continually torture or interrogate people for days at a time. That’s partly because they didn’t want to use sleep deprivation. They understood that it caused delirium and hallucinations and they thought it interfered with a victim’s ability to sincerely confess their sins and repent.

This pattern of behaviour more-or-less lines up with modern accounts. In most scenarios torturers focus on new victims most intensely over the first week or so. After that the frequency and length of torture sessions with that particular victim tends to be reduced. Victims who have been imprisoned for months- well they aren’t typically tortured every day and might not be tortured every week.

Your character could realistically be held by the Inquisition for months, but not if you’re describing him being tortured every day.

I also doubt the character would survive if he was tortured constantly for 24 hours. And that’s not how the Inquisition typically operated.

Torturers typically switch between different techniques fairly rapidly. I get the impression the Inquisition tried to take things at a slightly slower pace, focusing on one technique a day.

Wrapping up- I’d encourage you to think seriously about whether torture is actually necessary in your story. What does it add? What are the long term effects on the characters and plot?

Can you write the same story without torture? Because the chances are that if you can think of a way to get exactly the same effects without torture or abuse- then you’re not showing the effects of torture realistically.

Editted to add more trigger warnings.

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#Anonymous #tw torture #tw scars #scarring torture #clean torture #historical torture #historical fiction #Spanish Inquisition #pumping #burning tortures #strappado #suspension tortures #beating #writing victims #writing torture #tw racism #tw antisemitism #tw genocide

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horansqueen · 6 years

Text

BabyGirl 7.0

NOTES:

♥ this is based on a concept i received a few weeks ago and ppl asked that i made a story with it. ♥ i planned 3-4 long parts but i think it’ll be 8-10 short parts ♥ 3.4k. fluff. ♥ there may be smut but i doubt it and IF it happens it wont be as explicit as my other smut works. ♥ i didn’t proofread and if you read my stuff you know i never do because im a lazy ass. ♥ idk how i feel about this chapter? only his POV btw, was easier this way. please tell me if youre still interested in this story? i feel like its dying slowly lol ♥ if you have any questions please dont hesitate.

♥ PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5 // PART 6

7.0 NEW MUSIC AND IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

HIM

Maybe It's time you go home.

Her words resonated in my head over and over as I drove back to my house and I couldn't help but wonder if I was really going to kiss her out of pity. I've been flooded with so many intense feelings in the past days that it was sometimes hard to unscramble. I barely understood myself, so I couldn't expect her to understand me at all.

The only thing I was sure of, is that I loved Chelsea. If I could have created the perfect child for me, I wouldn't even have came close to that perfection. She was turning me into a different man, a better one I believed, and I was so proud to be her dad it almost hurt. Still, if I wanted to be honest with myself, I shat my pants just thinking about her reaction to finding out I was her father. I could live easily with what the rest of the world would think, but if Chelsea didn't want me as a dad, I had no idea how I would take it.

I threw my keys on the counter and locked the door behind me, taking my coat off and leaving it on the couch, along with my beanie and my scarf. I walked slowly to the kitchen and opened my fridge, staring way too long at the inside of it. I was not exactly sure of what I wanted, and it made me think of her. I also was not really sure what I wanted when it came to my ex girlfriend. Did I want her to be my ex ex girlfriend? Or was I attracted to her simply because of the vestige of feelings that were once really fucking strong?

I couldn't blame her for moving away when I decided to kiss her but when I brushed my thumb on her bottom lip, I realized that even if I was not sure of the feelings we truly had for each other, I was well aware of how my body vibrated when she was near and it brought an other question in my head. Was it simply lust? Would we finally succumb to the temptation in weeks from now only to find out that it was only physical attraction? That thought made me grimace and I bent down to quickly grab a beer.

The last thing she told me was to leave and I felt like it ended things very badly. I didn't want to hurt her, and my instinct really told me to kiss her. My head, however, kept reminding me of all the wrongs she did me and it made me sigh.

I grabbed my phone and turned it on again. I had only brought it in case of an emergency but I was not going to let myself be distracted by it when I was spending time with my daughter. It turned on slowly and I sighed for the second time when all the notifications popped up. One made me frown though and I opened it, only to see an amazing picture of Chelsea on my shoulders with fireworks in the background. It was a great photo, and even if I knew it was her job as a photographer, I was still impressed by the quality of the picture. She hadn't written anything but the date and I quickly changed the background of my phone for this photo.

'Thank you for the picture Xx' i typed quickly before hitting 'send'.

I stared at the words I sent, my thumb still hovering over the keyboard of my phone, wondering if I should type anything else.

'I didn't want to hurt you. I'm happy we spent the day together,'

I debated whether or not I should try to comfort her, but no matter what I would send her couldn't be the completely truth. I couldn't tell her it wasn't a pity kiss I wanted to give her because I had no idea if it was. I couldn't tell her I wanted to try again with her since I was not even sure of my feelings. All I could do was tell her what I knew and was a hundred percent sure of.

I waited way too long for her answer, standing motionless in the middle of my kitchen, and finally gave up. I sighed, closing my eyes and sliding my phone on the isle next to me, and finally walked to my room, deciding that I needed a shower.

She hadn't texted me in a few days and although I was well aware that I had to wait for her to show signs of life, I was getting impatient. It's only on the morning of the third day without any news from her or my daughter that I got a text message from her.

'Niall I need you.'

I felt my heart jump in my chest, questioning the signification of her words but a few seconds later, I got an other text from her, clearing my doubts.

'I have to work today and I have no one to babysit Chelsea."

Her first text was not declaring her love for me in a short text message, she just needed someone to take care of our daughter while she was at work. I thought I would feel relieved but what invaded my whole body seemed more like disappointment. I shook my head slightly and finally, a smile appeared on my lips. Not only was I going to spend the whole day with my daughter but now I knew that my ex girlfriend trusted me enough to let me stay with Chelsea by myself.

'I'm on my way."

It only took me a few seconds to grab a coat and jump in my car and when she opened the door to let me in, she quickly left it open and continued getting ready.

"Thank you so much, Niall!" she expressed from an other room before coming back. "They called me last minute."

She had traded her sweatpants for a skirt and did all she could not to look into my eyes. I could understand that the last time we saw each other was awkward and emotional but I felt awful thinking things would be cold between us from now on.

"A photoshoot?" I asked, closing the door behind me and taking my shoes off.

"Oh, I wish, no." she admitted with a sigh, rolling her eyes as she ran around, trying to put her earrings on at the same time. "Being a photographer is not what I would call 'profitable', especially when you're a freelancer. I had to take a second job to pay the bills, you know how it is."

I kept quiet because I had no idea what it was. I did work my ass off all the time, doing something I adored, but not knowing if i'll have enough money to eat next week isn't something that ever happened to me.

I couldn't pretend it didn't break my heart to find out she was struggling so much and i was tempted to propose her a few solutions that I thought about. I decided against it, remembering we weren't on the best terms at the moment, but took a mental note to have a discussion with her later.

"I work in a hotel, at the restaurant during the day, and at the bar in the evening." she told me, raising her nose in a grimace. "I know, not really glamorous, but some clients pay very well."

I pressed my lips together, keeping my comments to myself, and let my eyes roam around.

"Where's Chelsea?"

"She's getting ready. She's very excited to spend the day with you. Be prepared, your day is going to be extremely long."

With a chuckle, she looked up and our eyes met, making her smile falter but mine grow. She breathed in and sighed as I took a step closer, keeping my eyes into hers.

"I'm sorry for the other day." i apologized in a very low tone. "I didn't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you."

Without thinking, I brought my hand to her cheek and she held her breath as my fingertips brushed against her skin. I could feel my heart throb all over my body until she took a step back and looked away, bending down to grab a toy and throw it in the hall.

"It's okay Niall." she let out, grabbing her purse and opening it to look for something in it, once again not looking at me. "We both made mistakes and now it's over, let's move on."

I didn't know if she wanted to move on from this uncomfortable situation between us, or if she wanted us to give up on the feelings we weren't sure we had, but I didn't like it. I didn't really have time to ask her to elaborate.

"Okay so I'm gonna leave you a key of the apartment, but I thought you'd want to babysit her at your place. Either way I don't mind. Don't turn off you phone, leave the sound on, and if you have any problem, just call Louis, he will know what to do."

I nodded as she kept talking, grabbing her coat and putting it on. I couldn't help but think it was too cold outside for the outfit she wore but I kept quiet.

"Chelsea! Baby! I'm leaving!" she yelled loud enough for our daughter to hear before lowering her tone. "No junk food, no chocolate or trust me she'll make you regret it. Fruits, yogurt, ice cream, it's all good. She hates fish, too, and don't let her boss you around."

I had no idea how I was supposed to remember all of this but I just nodded, trying to engrave her recommendations in my brain, although I was pretty sure I was going to forget half of them.

"I'll text you when I'm done so you can tell me where you are and I'll just pick Chelsea up, okay?" she didn't wait for my answer and handed me a key. "There, lock behind you will you?"

Without thinking, she moved closer and I held my breath but she quickly stopped herself and turned around just as Chelsea entered the room. The dynamic they had together and that intense connection was something that fascinated me, especially since it seemed like they didn't even see it. She bent down and Chelsea let herself fall in her arms. They hugged for a while, and I noticed she was whispering something in her ear. My daughter nodded a few times and pulled away as they smiled to each other before moving closer again and brushing their noses against each other's. it made me chuckle low and my ex girlfriend finally got up, caressing her face gently.

"I really need to go, good luck, Niall."

She pressed her hand gently on my shoulder and it took me by surprise, accelerating my heartbeats for a few seconds but when I heard the door close behind her, I turned to Chelsea and sent her a smile, raising my eyebrows.

"Happy to spend the day with me?"

"Are you gonna show me where you live?" she asked with a frown, ignoring my question.

"Mmhm, if you want to!"

She clapped her hands a few times, a large smile on her lips, and grabbed her pink backpack, throwing it over her shoulders

"I'm ready!"

"Woa, Chels, you may need a coat and something to put on your head too, don't you think?"

She giggled but nodded as I started searching for her stuff but when I looked back at her, she was already dressing up. She struggled a bit but I bent down to help her with the sleeves of her coat before grabbing the beanie and pulling it on her head, over her eyes. She laughed more but stayed that way until I moved the beanie up slightly, allowing her to see. I took the scarf and put it around her neck and finally, I tilted my head, asking her if she was ready. She nodded frenetically and I laughed, getting back up and grabbing the bag her mother prepared.

I locked and we walked to my car. I was nervous and excited but I didn't know if I was going to succeed this test, because that's exactly how it felt like : a test. One that I was making myself try to pass, at least.

I made sure her seat belt was tied correctly and couldn't help but glance back at her through the mirror as we drove in silence. When we walked in my house, I turned the lights on and her eyes roamed all over the living room. Her lips parted and after a few seconds, she turned to me and grinned.

"This is where you live?" I nodded and she turned again to look at my Christmas tree. "Why don't you use lights of all colors?"

She quickly turned to me and frowned as I chuckled.

"I don't know, do you prefer multicolored lights?" I asked, glancing at the soft white lights in my tree.

Without even thinking, she nodded firmly and I bent down again, unzipping her coat and helping her getting undressed.

"I'll remember that, then."

I put our coats away and we both sat on the couch. She put her backpack between her legs and quickly opened it, placing books, movies and a few toys between us.

"What do you want to do today, Chelsea?"

"You're gonna read me stories, and we will watch movies, and we will play with my favorite barbies, and we will eat, too."

"Are you hungry?"

She nodded and I told her to leave her stuff on the couch and to follow me to the kitchen. I ended up making grilled cheese for both of us and we ate quickly in silence until she just looked up at me to stare. I sent her a smile and raised my eyebrows, watching her take a sip of her glass of milk before putting it back on the table, now looking at me with a milk mustache. I tried to keep my laughter inside and just licked my lips.

"Is everything okay, Chelsea?"

Without answering my question, she tilted her head. I grabbed my water bottle and she waited until I was literally drinking from it to talk again.

"Are you my new daddy?"

I choked on my water, trying not to spill it everywhere, and coughed a few time.

"What?"

"I saw you and mommy kissing the other day after the fireworks."

She was probably half asleep and had imagined it but who could blame her? I remembered holding her mom's face so close to mine that our lips brushed. I remembered being so close to kiss her that my heartbeats were erratic. I remembered feeling her warm breath against my lips. These thoughts made me shiver and I cleared my throat, trying to find a good answer. We hadn't kissed, but my daughter couldn't understand the complexity of the relationship her mother and I were in.

"Would you want me to be your new daddy, Chelsea?"

The answer was important for me, but she just shrugged and looked down at her plate. I waited a few seconds and she finally looked up.

"I want my daddy to come back."

I felt my heart jump so high in my chest that I had to swallow, as if it went close to escape by my throat. I could read sadness in her eyes and I felt extremely bad. She was only four and was already suffering from not having a father in her life.

"Where do you think your dad is, Chels?"

She tilted her head and squinted, lost in her thoughts.

"I think he's busy being a princess."

This time, I was glad I wasn't drinking water because I would have definitely choked on it for good.

"A princess?"

"Yes." she nodded. "He can't be here with me because he has to take care of a whooooole kingdom."

"That makes sense, but why a princess? Why not a king or a prince?"

"Princesses have more fun, and they can wear nice dresses like the ones mommy buys for me." she explained, making my lips curl. "I'm sure my daddy prefers to be a princess."

Her mind was intriguing but also incredible, and that made me realize I had never really been close to a little girl. No one close to me had a daughter I really interacted with, and the fact that Chelsea was my daughter suddenly made me extremely proud.

"No matter where your father is, Chelsea, he loves you, he cares for you, and he's thinking about you. And I know he would give anything to be with you, if he could."

She nodded and sent me a warm smile that made me hold my breath. I desperately wanted to tell her it was me, that there was nothing I wanted more than to be her father, but I kept it inside and brought our plates to the counter.

"You remember that shirt you wear to bed?" I asked her as we walked back to the living room. "Would you like to hear some of their songs?"

Her eyes opened wide and she looked up at me, her chin raised up.

"Do you think my daddy likes that band?"

"No doubt."

I put my spotify on the television to make sure the music would invade the room and when I turned around, Chelsea was sitting on the couch. She looked extremely tiny on my gigantic couch and it made me chuckle. She leaned her head on it to look at the ceiling as I started the first song.

I started with "Can't get you outta my mind" and sat next to her, leaning my head exactly the way she was. She waited about a minute after the song was over and I turned my head to look at her.

"What did you think?"

She stared at me and frowned slightly.

"I want to hear an other one."

Her attitude made me laugh and I started "She's a sensation". I closed my eyes and when the song was over, I let the next one play on random and felt my heart twist when "I won't let it happen" started. For some reason, the lyrics really hit me and I tried to keep my feelings in, turning to Chelsea again.

"So?"

"I like them." she just expressed, nodding slowly.

"Yea, me too."

My phone beeped and I grabbed it, to check the notifications.

'I heard you were babysitting. Freddie and I are coming over!'

I grimaced at Louis' message but decided to ask Chelsea what she wanted. I was not against seeing Louis, but at the same time, it was going on so well and easily with my daughter that I was not sure I really needed him.

"Louis and Freddie want to come over, what do you say?"

"YESSSSS!!!"

I watched her throw her tiny arms in the air and it made me laugh as I answered Louis' message. I was ready to give her anything she wanted, and although I knew it could be dangerous, seeing Chelsea happy was pretty much my only motivation for... everything.

"Maybe we could order a pizza for dinner?" I proposed. "What do you prefer on yours?"

"Cheese and mushrooms!"

"Mushrooms?" I asked with a chuckle. "Really?"

She nodded quickly and I decided to put on a movie she had brought while I would order. She sat better on the couch to watch what I thought was 'Open Season" and I walked to my room, sitting on it as I ordered pizza with my phone. As soon as I hung up, my phone beeped again.

'Order pizza, Neil. We're hungry!'

His message made me laugh and I shook my head, only sending him the emoji of a thumb up. For the first time since I found out Chelsea was my daughter, I felt at peace. I knew I would have to tell her who I really was at some point, but I didn't want to focus on that. I wanted to focus on spending time with her, getting to know her, and allowing her to get to know me too. I wanted to be a part of her life and it seemed like we got off to a good start, and I didn't want it to end.

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan fan fic #niall horan daddy #niall #niall fluff #niall story #niall writing #niall fanfic #niall fan fic #niall fanfiction #daddy!niall #my fanfics #ehh idk man is it remotely ok?

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umbrella-kun · 6 years

Text

Turquoise

Today was a rather busy day, people were coming in out of the shop in hopes of buying a nice hot cup of tea. Especially now that winter had just arrived which meant heavy jackets and cozy mittens. People entered the shop and smiled as they felt the warmth engulf them. A wonderful feeling that reached everyone who entered the tea shop. I of course have felt it myself, but that’s due to the fact that I work here.

“Good morning, what can I get for you today?” I asked a couple who were chatting away. One of them saw me and flashed me a welcoming smile.

“Oh hello, umm I’ll have some green tea and you sweetie?” The guy asked whom I was assuming was his girlfriend.

“I’ll like a cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin please” She replied cheerfully, I smile at her cheerfulness and write down their orders. I excuse myself and make my way to the kitchen to prepare some of the orders I had written down while the waiters and waitresses were taking other orders,

“Today is so packed again! I hate this, why can’t it be quiet like during the summer?” I hear someone say from behind me. I chuckle as I notice Saeran taking out a fresh batch of muffins out of the oven. He didn’t enjoy the tea shop being filled with people, I guess he preferred a quieter environment.

“You’re gonna have to get used to it, we just started winter” I chirped which only caused Saeran to groan in frustration. I laugh at him and make my way out of the kitchen with a couple of orders in my hands. I walk toward the the young couple who had order earlier and hand them their beverages.

“Here is your cup of green tea, a cup hot chocolate and finally your chocolate chip muffin which actually just came out of the oven.” I said

“Oooooh really? Yay thank you so much!” The girl replied before taking a sip of the drink and smiled in satisfaction. I excuse myself and walk toward the kitchen to prepare more orders. As I was about to reach the kitchen counter I notice a rather strange color, turquoise to be exact, stood out from all the people in the shop. I stop when I notice a man sitting at a table alone. He sat by the large windows that were close to the entrance of the tea shop. It had a clear view of the street and you could see the passersby walking on the sidewalk. The thing that caught my attention was the way he was looking out the window. He seemed lost and sad, I didn’t want to seem like a complete creep by staring at him so I continued my way toward the kitchen.

“Hey Yoosung? Hm quick question, do you happened to know that guy over there?” I asked, Yoosung poked his head out from behind the kitchen counter and shakes his head.

“Nope, no clue, but I’ve noticed that he does come often. Why?” Yoosung asked

“Oh, its nothing. I just noticed he seems sad. I wonder if something is bothering him” I said bringing my gaze back to the man.

“How about asking him?” Both Yoosung and I yelp when Saeyoung suddenly appears from underneath the counter.

“Saeyoung what the heck are you doing under there? You’re supposed to be working!” I exclaimed

“I know but Jaehee wanted me to do bathroom duty and I hate it. So I hid under the counter. So about this guy you’re talking about, is it the guy over there? The one with the bluish hair?” Saeyoung points at the man and both Yoosung and I nod our heads.

“His names Jihyun Kim but close friends call him V. He’s 27 years old, He’s a freelance photographer so he travels a lot. He also likes art collecting! Has a eye condition that can cause him to go blind if not treated properly.-” I quickly cut him off

“Wait wait- how do you know all this information?” I asked surprised

“Don’t you remember MC, Saeyoung used to be a hacker for big companies.” Yoosung replied, oh yeah now that I think about it I remember Saeyoung mentioning something about that.

“Well duh. But I didn’t do any hacking on this guy. He happens to be the best friend of one of my ex bosses. He’s a really good guy, but had bad relationship break up with this girl, things ended pretty badly” Saeyoung continued.

“Maybe that’s why he’s so gloomy” Yoosung said. I shrug my shoulders as I make my way to wash a couple of cups and continue my day as usual.

The day was finally coming to an end and we were finishing up with cleaning and preparing the menu for the following day. Once that was done, everyone said their goodbyes and headed home. I lived closed by, probably 10 to 15 minutes away but depending on my mood. It was around 8:30 pm so it was pretty dark and the cold was really affecting my energy levels. Saeyoung and Saeran had offered me a ride but I declined their offer since to be honest I didn’t really trust Saeyoung driving. He’s good I’ll admit but could be reckless if it met to scare me.

“Jeez it is freezing, maybe I should of accepted that ride home” I whined as I continued to walk. Not even my big jacket could prevent the cold freezing air to pass right through causing me to shiver.

“ I don’t think a young woman like you should be out alone this late” I hear a voice say from behind me. I quickly turn around ready to scream at the man but calm down when I notice the strange turquoise color.

“Oh god, I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to startled you. I just wanted to tell you it’s not really safe for you to be walking by yourself. I deeply apologize” He said sincerely.

“What, oh it’s ok. It’s just you really did scared me, you almost gave me a heart attack.I thought I was about to be kidnapped” I finally said, he chuckles at my reaction and smiles

“Don’t worry I’m not going to kidnap you. Hahaha My name is Jihyun by the way, but people call me V” V said before extended his hand out

“MC, nice to meet you V” I take his hand and shake it but stay still, I was trying to process everything that was happening.

“Is it ok if I walk you home, I completely understand if you don’t want to, but to be honest it doesn’t seem safe. V said

“Yeah sure, I don’t see why not” I said softly. We didn’t talk much but I didn’t find it uncomfortable, for some reason he had a calming type of aura.

“You work at the tea shop don’t you?” V suddenly ask

“Yeah how did you know?”

“Well I was there earlier today and don’t want to seem like some of creep but I notice that you were looking at me” V chuckled lightly and my cheeks heated up. Oh god this is extremely embarrassing, he noticed me staring at him!? I bury my face into my scarf thinking that this would probably ease my embarrassment but it was no use.

“Sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable. Please allow me to hide in a pit of shame” I responded and V immediately started shaking his head

“Oh no no no, it’s ok! No need to hide, hahaha” V laughed and couldn’t help but blush. What was up with this guy? He didn’t find it creepy that Yoosung, Saeyoung and I were staring at him at the tea shop? Wait a minute he only mentioned me, but why not the others? Maybe he didn’t noticed them perhaps.

“It’s just you have a really nice hair color, I’ve never seen someone with the same color as yours. So you stood out from everyone else in the shop. It’s unique.” I finally said as we continued to walk. I could swear that I saw him blush but it could of been my imagination.

“You think so, thank you. I never thought much about my hair color” V replied while running his hand through his hair. I didn’t really want to bring up the real reason as to why I was staring at him which was his lost expression. At the tea shop he seem depressed but right now he was a completely different person. Off the bat he was a sweet and kind hearted guy maybe even a gentlemen at most. But I soon remember Saeyoung mention something about V, a past relationship which ended badly.

“Well it suits you nicely, so don’t change it” I said. He didn’t say anything but smile. For the rest of the walk we didn’t exchange words instead we enjoyed the silence. Once we arrived to my place, I held my hand out in front of V.

“Thank you for walking me here, it wasn’t necessary but I really appreciate it” I said politely, V smiles again and shakes my hand, My cheeks heat up at his touch and I swear I saw a tint of blush on his cheeks but again that could of been my imagination. He wasn’t wearing any mittens yet his hands were warm. He released his hold and I wave goodbye before walking into my house.

“Sir you can’t walk out of the car like that” My driver informed me

“I know, I know. But you really expect me to let a young lady walk home alone in the dark?” I said as I walk back to the car.

“Of course not” My driver said before opening the car door.

I sit silently as we continued our way back to my father’s home. He had a dinner arranged for our family. I didn’t have the motivation to go but it would seem rude if I didn’t attend.

“If you don’t mind me asking sir, but who was this young lady you were talking to?” The driver asked. I smile at the thought of MC, to be honest I didn’t expect to actually talk to her. But when I was at the tea shop I notice her looking at me. At first I didn’t think much about it, well that was until before I left the shop, Saeyoung stopped me to explain about how MC seem concerned about how I looked sad about something. At first I was embarrassed but as well felt bad that I had worried her.

“It’s just someone I met at the tea shop” I replied simply.

“Oh I see, will you be seeing her again anytime soon?” He asked

I wonder...will I see her again? Probably at the tea shop but I knew clearly what the driver was trying to ask. I bring my gaze toward the window as we drive pass by MC’s house and smiled.

“I hope so”

This is for @jihyunscompass I hope you enjoyed it \(^w^)/

#mystic messenger #mm #mymes #jihyun kim #V #MC #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger secret sant #v x mc

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tiergan-vashir · 6 years

Text

@aegirward

I wanted to address some things about your reply to me, but all of it was quite long, so to spare everyone’s dashboards, I’m just going to leave a link here for them to read it, as well as @friendly-fire-engaged‘s response to you.

There's a lot of misinformation here to unpack, so let me just start from the top:

Sorry if I wasn’t clear in my previous reply. I didn’t mean I was wary that Sylb specifically had photoshopped screenshots. I had become wary in general after being burned once.

Whether you were wary in general or wary against Sylb specifically is completely irrelevant. It doesn’t matter if it was Sylb in particular or any other woman on the planet. The fact of the matter is that when faced with a woman who presented you with screenshots of sexual harassment from man with a long established, self-admitted history of sexually harassing women - you still decided the screenshots might have been photoshopped.

That’s not ‘wariness’ - that’s a blatant denial.

You also seem to be extremely determined to paint a very benign picture of yourself in which your only two flaws when it came to Sylb and her harassment were:

You wanted to give Kale a second chance despite his history, because people had given you a second chance in the past.

You made a mistake and believed that Sylb must not have been suffering that badly, because she was willing to continue RPing with the group despite Kale’s presence.

There’s much more to it than that. You conveniently glossed over your most egregious, malicious behavior:

Despite how kind and accommodating you were to Sylb’s face, you were actively sabotaging her to other people behind her back.

You made the conscious, willful choice to not only buy into the idea that Sylb may have photoshopped the screenshots and that she must not have been suffering all that badly because she was still RPing with EA, but that Sylb was the one who wronged Kale and that other, completely uninvolved people needed to be convinced of this as well. You held up a double standard where it was okay to trust Kale despite his past, but Sylb was not trustworthy from the beginning.

Here are some screenshots from @diskwrite-ffxiv’s post which show you driving a wedge between AMoB and FLEET by bringing up Sylb out of the blue in AMoB’s moderator chat and intentionally mischaracterize her to Renata and Berrod as someone who was just out to ostracize Kale.

https://imgur.com/a/i7SJjlq

The screenshots show you and Iota worked together to paint Sylb as someone trying to manipulate others into hating and shunning Kale. You brought up how Zheng ‘questioned her intentions’. You described her as someone who will “rant to anyone about Kale” - a falsehood I know is patently untrue. Sylb was extremely anxious and nervous about talking about her situation to anyone and didn't want to appear like she was trying to run Kale’s name through the mud.

She didn’t even bring it up to the majority of her own FC. Most of FLEET was in the dark all the way up until @diskwrite-ffxiv’s post was created. The only people who had in-depth knowledge that she was even suffering from anything were a small handful of her closest friends for support, the EA Mods she passed the document off to, and eventually Martin.

The screenshots also show you making the claim that she “copy/pasted her story about needing to block Kale and why to pretty much everyone” despite Sylb ONLY giving that document the EA Mods, Martin, and that handful of close friends she was going to for support. She went out of her way to specifically ask Iota not to share the document containing her request around to anyone outside of the EA mods without her permission first, as seen below:

https://imgur.com/a/4SHtSLd

All of this clearly demonstrates that contrary to what you claim, you actually very much did try to stop collaborations between AMoB and FLEET. You tried to convince Renata that Sylb was trying to smear Kale’s name and nearly succeeded in doing so. Renata herself admitted that as a direct result of this, she brushed off Sylb’s legitimate complaint. You smeared a woman’s name to people she didn’t know, because you and Zheng “questioned her intentions”.

In the next part of your reply, you’ve conflated two entirely separate events Sylb wanted to create: The FLEET-Resistance collab event and the Soldier’s Ball.

Your original reply to the ask mentions the FLEET-Resistance event Sylb wanted to create with AMoB. I was referencing this FLEET-Resistance event when I when I asked why it was suspect that a victim of sexual harassment wouldn’t want to create an RP event where she would have to be near the person who harassed her in the time immediately after she outright blocked him as opposed it being a completely sane and normal response from a victim of sexual harassment.

AMoB was not directly affiliated with EA. The FLEET-Resistance event was not an EA event. Kale, as a character, has nothing to do with FLEET and the Resistance. So why was it strange for a woman to want to exclude the man who made her uncomfortable in an event she was trying to collaborate on the day after blocking him?

Here are the screenshots of that conversation: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1l_kPtTU-YjJy335F1yB4KLyvFVaNbz2cr0xI2FCTU3U/edit?usp=sharing

You, her, Iota, Martin, and Zheng were all in a group chat together brainstorming. Sylb mentioned she didn’t really want a public event as she’d been hoping for more of a Maelstorm vs Resistance event and that it was too soon for certain characters to show up. Note how she went out of her way to avoid mentioning Kale and is wary of discussing her situation in front of someone who is not an EA mod until she is made aware that Zheng is already in the know. Notice how she finally agrees to open the event up further - just before Zheng insinuates she is spearheading a “Fuck Kale campaign”.

Another thing I want to point out is that Zheng never apologized to Sylb after that discussion for the “Fuck Kale campaign” comment and you did not provide a proper apology either. This wasn't a matter of “Golly! We thought Sylb must not have been suffering so badly, because she was still RPing with EA!” - this was a matter of you both explicitly not believing her and punishing her for it. As the AMoB mod channel screenshots clearly showed, you admit to questioning her intentions and actively worked to sabotage her.

The Soldier’s Ball is an entirely different event, and I notice that you have a very different timeline of events than what actually occurred.

At the time this conversation was going on, Sylb was still participating in EA events with Kale. If I remember right, it was shortly after the Ala Mhigan Ascension RP. I had not been told that she no longer wanted to do any event with Kale or have Kale at her other events.

Sylb said she would not work directly with Kale and that was the reason for not choosing him as a representive. But prior to that, she was in our group DMs with Kale helping plan for the ascension ceremony. That was the event where I offered to translate anything Kale said and pass it on to her, rather than have her be in the group chat, if that made her more comfortable.

So the situation perplexed me, because in my mind, she had just been dealing with Kale and this combination of choosing Raniall over Kale and Martin over Zheng seemed less about comfort and more about a decision that would make things awkward with Kale’s group.

I told her the situation made me uncomfortable, because it did. I was thinking of the impact it would have on the 4th. The position it would put Raniall in and what it might make the other 4th members think. I never told her not to do it, just that it wasn’t something I was comfortable with, so I wouldn’t be attending the event, but I WOULD make sure it was promoted in all the usual places. I didn’t think my lack of participation would matter ICly, because I was not RPing anyone needed for the event.

Firstly - the notion that “she no longer wanted to do any event with Kale or have Kale at her other events” is flagrantly untrue and easiest to disprove.

In the screenshot conversation with Iota I linked above where Sylb hands over her document to the mods to lay down her boundary with Kale, Sylb explicitly states: “I’ll continue to be polite to him in group channels and in voice chat, but I don’t want to have direct one on one contact with him anymore. I’m not asking the Eorzean Alliance discord mods (or anyone else) to take any sort of action against Kale. I’m just letting you know about this boundary that I’m establishing with Kale because it’ll likely impact the way that FLEET communicates with the rest of the EA group (as in, I’ll reach out to other GMs instead of Kale about stuff).”

This was copy-pasted word for word from the document that was shared with you and all the EA Moderators.

Secondly - the Ala Mhigan Ascension event happened in December, two months after Sylb had blocked Kale in early October and informed the EA moderators of her boundary. (Timestamps visible in the Discord screenshots where Sylb laid her boundary down.) By then you should have been more than well aware of it. There should have been nothing ‘perplexing’ about what was occurring.

Unless you did not care enough to read her document laying out her boundaries in its entirety when it was shared to you, you would know she was doing exactly what she’d stated her boundary was two whole months ago: cooperate politely with Kale in group chats, but bar him from talking to her in direct, one-on-one conversations.

Lastly - the most glaring mischaracterization you’ve written of everything surrounding the Soldier’s Ball is the idea that Sylb:

Uninvited Kale from the Soldier’s Ball.

“Sylb said she would not work directly with Kale and that was the reason for not choosing him as a representive”

Sylb was not selecting representatives - she was literally trying to get people to pick songs. She thought it would be nice to have a song for each Grand Company at the Soldier’s Ball, and was considering asking individuals from each Grand Company group to pick one. That’s literally it.

Here is your conversation with Sylb regarding Soldier’s Ball, where she is clearly discussing the selection of songs - not representatives: https://imgur.com/a/2ON3xLf

Because she did not want direct, one-on-one conversations with Kale as per her boundary, it only made sense for her to reach out to Raniall, Kale’s Second-in-Command, to get a Flames song. And because her last interaction with Zheng/Beowoad was him literally accusing her of launching a “Fuck Kale Campaign” (and even you mention in this exact conversation that Zheng ‘questioned her intentions’) - she understandably felt more comfortable reaching out to Martin to pick a song for the Resistance than Zheng/Beowoad. Yet she even offers to ask Zheng/Beo instead of Martin for the song if it too uncomfortable for you.

I will add that Martin was only initially uncomfortable with the Soldier’s Ball because you misled them entirely as to what the entire situation was even about. You provided them with a small section of the conversation, outside of its context and mischaracterized what Sylb wanted.

The rest of your reply to me is completely irrelevant, because it’s filled with baseless assumptions on what Sylb may have been thinking and more assertions that it was somehow “confusing” that she was still participating in EA events and working in group chats with Kale, but not in direct contexts despite you having knowledge of what her boundary was for months at that point.

All in all, your response here makes it clear that the public apologies written by you and Zheng are catered more toward damage control than actual reflection, assessment and change. Neither your apology or this post owns up to the fact you and Iota were kind to Sylb’s face, but actively slandered her as a person to other people behind her back. Neither your apology, Zheng’s, or this post owns up to the fact that you and Zheng went much further than simply assuming her situation was not as bad as it seemed - you both flat out didn’t believe her. You “questioned her intentions” and punished her for daring to lay her boundary down.

When asked to leave AMoB, Zheng tried to argue that G&G has dealt with four sexual harassment cases and one had an “issue that appeared to be a plot to discredit someone falsely.” (https://imgur.com/a/r08qz70) If it is not Sylb Zheng was referencing, then perhaps this other individual’s case should also be given a second look considering how poorly Sylb was treated.

Aegir, Instead of taking responsibility for the your true actions, you eagerly paint yourself as a man whose only flaws were that he miscalculated how serious the situation was and really wanted to believe in second chances. You talk repeatedly about how “confusing” Sylb’s behavior is to try and paint her inconsistent so your actions seem more excusable, while Sylb was doing exactly what she stated she was going to do to the EA Mods to keep herself safe. You present a timeline of events that is muddled and out of order to serve your own needs and place yourself in a more sympathetic light. A real apology doesn’t try to replace the other person’s story with your own reconstruction of events, rewriting what needs to be apologized for.

To put it bluntly, I question your intentions, Aegir.

Your apology, and by extension, Zheng’s apology as it contains much of the same face-saving “we misjudged how serious the situation was and thought the issue was minor because Sylb was still working with EA” language - won’t feel genuine by any stretch of the imagination until you own up to your true mistakes.

If you can’t admit to where you actually went wrong, how is anyone supposed to trust that this is more than a simple attempt at damage control? How are we supposed to believe that you and the rest of the G&G leadership have actually learned from this and will truly change?

#G&G #gold & glory #gold and glory #long post #drama #discourse

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bananonbinary · 5 years

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I can very much understand why some davejade shippers might be entitled because dave was initially played as the typical cool guy so due to heteronormativity you expect him to 1) have at least one girl into him, and 2) get the girl he wants in the end, and their interactions had chemistry enough to fuel the flames. Davekat fans being entitled weirds me out more because both characters were initially very no homo and explicitly into girls (1/?)

so most people who shipped davekat did it as blackrom, often even leering into icky yaoi stereotypes and such. Dave and Karkat being soft and caring characters and having a healthy relationship was the big unexpected development of these characters so I have no idea how people got so entitled about it so fast. It’s probably a consequence of everyone trying to play hs as this apex of queer rep, which it honestly is not (2/?)

and there’s also some defensiveness because a canon loving m/m pair like davekat is hard to find and people feel shoving jade there without showing the development was a cheap way of saying “haha yeah they love each other but of course there’s still a girl in the middle”. It’s the kind of problem you ran into when you have only one polyam relationship and only one m/m relationship, it’s gonna have a few flaws rep wise no matter what (3/?)

And to be clear I’m not trying to defend any ship or shipper with this, ship discourse is mostly annoying as hell, I’m just mumbling on what I think is going on, even because I suspect this whole thing was improvised because of the difference between when act 7 storyboards were made and when the last upd8s were made. Act 7 shows no indication of davekat at all and the picnic scene even implies the two being still hatefriends/rivals for Jade’s attention (5/?)

so I think the original plan for the ending was Dave x Jade x Karkat as an het love triangle (gosh it sounds so bad) but Hussie shifted into Davekat/gay singularity mode as he finished writing the act, but by then the animation for act 7 was already under way, because animation takes way more time than panels and writing. So Hussie said screw it and got the three together. I just wish they said the word polyam at least, being vague about feels like baiting a bit. (6/6 i think i lost count sorry)

here’s the thing: this is a fine argument for being uncomfortable with it. “i dont feel there was buildup and it felt gimmiky and like they didn’t really want to make it polyam”

sure.

but i was huge into davekat circles back in the day, and that’s NOT what most of the arguing is. It’s a huge clusterfuck of biphobic rhetoric, “smol soft boys would never like a GIRL EWWWW” fetishization, and dangerous misconceptions about poly relationships. people aren’t mad that this relationship felt rushed or badly written, they’re mad that

a) a boy/girl/boy triad made up of explicitly bi characters (and all three characters have literally never been even implied to be gay, hell the guys got together in GO fighting over a girl) isn’t “gay enough” which is biphobic as all hell

b) that a triad is somehow more normative than a couple because the fictional world ONE of the participants is from had severely regulated relationships that aren’t really poly in spirit anyway because each person still has a strictly defined number of partners, which is just about as dumb as when people said alternia is bi-normative and therefor any bi trolls were regressive as if we dont live in a real world where these things have consequences,

c) they’re literally just Big Mad because of some dumb ship war between jadedave and davekat and didnt want to have to shake hands, and

c) the big one, that poly relationships as a concept are damaging if you have self-esteem issues like dave and karkat has, which is………Do Not Do That Pls. you could tell me jade would upset dave somehow. you could tell me karkat’s anger issues are bad for the other two. you could even tell me that karkat and jade’s personalities combined would somehow trigger daves ptsd or w/e. but don’t tell me that a poly relationship would with ANY other character would be :/ problematic actually ://///// just because you think poly people and relationships have to fit a specific stereotype. (fun fact: if u have insecurities about your partners loving you, then as a group you can like...work through that you don’t need to say poly relationships as a concept are Unhealthy for Most People)

once again, if the arguments were actually about like, the people involved or the writing or w/e, i wouldn’t care, but i remember when the credits went up and i made a silly post about how i thought davekat was included in davejadekat and like,,,,,the OUTRAGE. the fucking SHEER HATRED i suddenly received from all those people. i still find people today who obviously blocked me from that one post.

and i remember when act 7 dropped, there was fucking pandemonium. it wasn’t just people feeling like they weren’t represented, i remember Someone Who Shall Not Be Named (one of the people who blocked me lmao) getting absolutely hammered and crytyping all day just because there wasnt an explicit kiss and they werent even the worst of it. that was when i really started re-evaluating how fucking damaging it is to put literally all your stock in a ship playing out in an extremely specific way.

fast forward to like 20 minutes ago, when i saw several posts in a row resurfacing all this shitty rhetoric back in my face like its 2010 and we still are afraid of people dating more than one person. like, explicitly saying they thought a poly relationship was bad for the characters and was actually less woke than two gay boys and all that bullshit.

i don’t fuckin care about the ships. im actually pretty lukewarm about this one. but FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP BEING BIPHOBIC AND POLYPHOBIC WHEN DISCUSSING THEM. A CANON TRIAD WILL NEVER EVER FUCKING BE NORMATIVE OR REGRESSIVE OR INHERENTLY ABUSIVE OR WHATEVER OTHER BULLSHIT YOU’RE THINKING. (and characters who are canonically attracted to multiple genders ending up in relationships with characters of different genders will ALSO never be fucknig normative you absolute biphobic shitheads)

#fan wank #long post whoops #again this isnt about ship wars its about a problem within fandom thinking polyam bi relationships arent as woke as mono gay ones

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thesffcorner · 5 years

Text

The Fever King

The Fever King is the first book in a YA sci-fi/dystopian duology written by Victoria Lee. I have a lot of very strong mixed feelings on this book, so buckle up; this will be a long one.

In the near distant future, the United States has been withered down to several smaller nations, courtesy of a magic virus that has wiped out most of the population. The virus in the form of a fever, burns its victims to a husk, and those who survive it are called witchings, and they develop supernatural abilities. A 100 years after the original outbreak, we follow Noam Alvarez, a 16 year old boy who lives in the only witching state of Carolina. He’s the son of undocumented migrants, and when an outbreak in a refugee camp kills his father and all of his neighbours, he survives and gains technopathy: the ability to control electronic devices. He gets recruited into Level IV to train for the military, under the direct supervision of the man who created Carolina: Calix Lehrer. I think that long intro, might have already clued you into some of this book’s problems. In case you couldn’t tell, this book is a debut, and it really feels like it. Victoria Lee is a talented author, with a good grip on style and explores interesting ideas. This book’s hook bought me, and her characters (the few that are developed at least) are genuinely intriguing. This book is also highly political, and it’s subject matter is absolutely topical and relevant for today’s issues. If you are someone young, who hasn’t read a lot of political science and wants to get a primer into stuff like communism, revolutions and migrant issues, then I think this book would serve as a great primer. However, there are issues. The plot and the themes are just all over the place; there are also significant issues with the pacing and worldbuilding, and even the characters end up confused. The writing is solid, and I think with some more time and experience, I could really love Lee’s work, but as is, this book is a very much, an ambitious mess. Writing: Let’s start with some positives. Lee has a writing style that’s quite unique, and not something I have read before. She writes in third person, but the writing is very stream of consciousness. Lot’s of scenes, especially at the start read like we are following Noam’s thought pattern; he will interrupt himself, or not explain what is happening fully, because he himself hasn’t processed it yet. Since he’s the PoV character, he ends up feeling quite unreliable, which is a rarity in YA, and his inability to be unbiased and objective, actually factors into the plot, because we flip flop on what is happening and who we trust just as he does, and we operate on faulty or partial information, because that’s what he knows, or sometimes doesn’t notice the discrepancies. Unfortunately, this has the adverse effect of making this book read extremely young. Lee explores a lot of themes here, but the main one revolves around freedom, revolution and what and how much you are willing to sacrifice to achieve your goal. Both Noam and Lehrer do unspeakable things in the name of justice and freedom, and there is a fine line between fighting for a cause and becoming a monster. I would like to say that this theme is handled with finesse, but Noam has a very black and white view of the world, and has the patience of a teenage boy; as such he ends up making a lot of really stupid decisions, and refusing to acknowledge a lot of horrible things. There’s also a lot of discussion of communism, dictatorships, and leadership, all of it feels like a middle grade school report. The absolute worst scene for me was when Noam and Lehrer discuss the phrase ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’; I was cringing so hard as the book ground to a halt to give me a history and philosophy lesson on what that phrase means. It’s so over the top and blunt, and I really didn’t care for it. Tone: If the book was written entirely like this, I think I would’ve liked it more; I am simply not the target audience. I am too old and have been through enough classes, discussions, debates and even real world protests and changes of government for a middle grade discussion on communism to appeal to me. But the book mixes these really simplistic juvenile themes, and a character who read like a 14-15 year old, with brutal realities of what revolution is actually like, and it made for such an uneven reading experience. There are numerous scenes of people dying in executions, from disease, there is discussion of rape, child abuse, assassinations and violations of the body and mind. It’s at once a very ‘baby’s first guide to revolution’, while at the same time attempting to have a very nuanced and complex villain/hero dynamic. The sexual politics of this book especially made me uncomfortable; the scenes between Noam and Lehrer especially felt like they belonged in a much more mature book than this one. Worldbuilding: This is where most of my problems with the book stem from. This is a book that has the very difficult job of setting up this world, explaining how the situation got so dire, introduce the superpowers, the characters, the status quo, and it has to do all of that for 2 separate timelines. I would like to say Lee succeeded but I am still very confused. Let’s start with the positives. I really wasn’t sure why it was necessary that the virus was magic; it could have been any kind of sci-fi virus that changes the morphology and biology of the survivors in order to give them superpowers. The fact that the virus was a form of magical fever that burns up its victims reminded me so much of Osaron from the Shades of Magic series, that I half expected the infected to have black veins and black eyes. What I enjoyed about the superpower aspect was that the powers were tied to something that the person already knew or had a connection to. For example, Noam is very good with computers and coding already, so his presenting power is technopathy, meaning he already knows exactly how computers, electricity, magnetism and algorithms work, so his power is just a physical extension of that. This was the most original and interesting aspect of the setting, and I liked all the bits we got with Noam doing math and physics and why it was necessary for him to learn all of that, before he could really master his powers. The early scenes where Lehrer teaches him and Dara on how to use their powers were great, and though the scene with the coin was lifted straight out of the X-men films, I loved it. The refugees, the refugee camps, the post apocalyptic setting and the politics were all things I have read before. There’s so many elements borrowed from Divergent, The Maze Runner, The Hunger Games and The Darkest Mind; the ending especially felt exactly like the ending of The Darkest Mind. I don’t even need to know that Lee is an avid X-men reader to tell you exactly where she got the estetic for the setting, the apocalypse, the anti-witchery suits, the suppression, the anti-witching vaccine and especially, especially Lehrer’s character. This is where the problems start. First off, the two timelines. Everything to do with the Lehrer brothers forming Carolina, the virus outbreak, the dissolution of the United States and the virus was incredibly confusing, underdeveloped, and lifted straight out of the X-men films. It’s like Lee took bits and pieces of all of them and pulled them all together: Lehrer being tortured in the mutant, I mean witching camps was a mix of X-2 and Origins, Lehrer redirecting the nuclear warhead back into the ocean was from First Class, Lehrer being questioned by the telepath was from X-2, and Carolina having closed its borders and being the only safe haven for withings was from the Genosha/San Francisco storylines in the comics. The reason I point all of this out was because it was so blatant, and so badly patched together that I didn’t feel like Lee had anything to say about these things; she just took bits and pieces of these various X-men storylines, which for better or worse were actually complete and devoted time and development to their implementation. Here, I wasn’t sure why some states were states, like Carolina, while others, like Atlanta were cities. Europe and Canada are mentioned, but no mention of Asia or Africa. Is every other place in the world unaffected? Or did they all execute every single witching and infected person? How come Carolina is supposed to be this heaven when their technology hasn’t advanced past 2019, and yet they are still somehow independent? Everything to do with Lehrer was likewise confusing. He was King, but he then abdicated and Sacha was democratically elected, and yet the state he ruled was a communist monarchy? Why did he abdicate? If everything is infected, how did the Carolina army get to Atlanta to besiege them? And then we get to the migrants. This part was the worst, because it suffered so hard from the black and white morality. The migrants come from Atlanta which is suffering horrible outbreaks of the virus. Even though the Carolinas are willing to let the refugees in, they do everything in their power to keep them secluded, undocumented and completely isolated. Look, I’m not going to pretend that migrants are treated well in most places; they are not. But usually there are bigger issues at hand, not just bigotry. A lot of refugees have problems with learning the local language, adapting to local climate, customs, food. There are cultural clashes between the local and the refugees, religious differences. That simply doesn’t translate here; if the virus isn’t genetic, and it’s detectable, than what good would expending resources to keep the refugees secluded do? They speak the language, there aren’t different customs or religion, the only difference is the city they come from. Carolina and Atlanta are not a good allegory for the current migrant crisis, and I can’t believe I’m siding with Brennan but they really are guests in someone else’s homeland. They can’t just start a revolution and overthrow the government, which is what Noam wants. The way Noam acts this whole book is a righteous rage that’s just ill conceived. Yes, he’s being manipulated, but he acts like no one other than refugees have a hard life, like Ames or Dara or any of the other characters couldn’t possibly have problems. What’s more is he’s never called out on this behavior and he’s never corrected or shown to be wrong, which is just insincere at best and blatantly untrue at worst. Pacing: Like the tone, the pacing was all-over the place. This book is at once overcrowded with information, trying to set up so much, and accomplish even more, while at the same time painfully slow and uneventful. There are pages upon pages of exposition and pontificating on irrelevant philosophical questions, while the actual action is so mediocre. The pacing reminded me of my least favorite part of The Hunger Games; the first part in Mockingjay where Katniss just spends pages upon pages training and locked inside the District 13 compound. The same is true here; once Noam is inside Level IV, almost nothing of interest happens until the very end, with the exception of his detour during the protest. We are supposed to be invested in the character development, but there really are only 2 relationships, and both are… iffy. Characters: There are literary, only 3 characters of interest in this book; none of the supporting cast was interesting in any way, and the 3 other students might as well have not been in the book. So let’s talk about Dara. Dara was the most frustrating character I have read in a while. The best way I can describe him is, he’s Rhy from Shades of Magic; he is a beautiful, deeply damaged character, who is promiscuous, seductive, and completely there to serve as a love interest/victim for Noam. Dara is the second most powerful character in this book, and yet he spends 90% of it drunk, high, locked in a room, or in some sort of peril. There is so much abuse throw his way that I wondered for a second if I accidentally skipped back to The Raven King. As a character by himself, he wasn’t particularly interesting, until the very end of the book, where we get several reveals that have no time to be digested or explored, because the book is over. His relationship with Noam was even more frustrating. He acts appropriately, like a teenager, but he’s also supposed to be older and more clever than Noam, which makes the situation they are put in even dumber. So much of this book could have been avoided if they would just TALK to each other, and even the reveal doesn’t hide how much this whole plot relies on contrivance. Like ok, I will absolutely buy that Dara would fall in love with Noam, but he still violated Noam’s trust, privacy and very core by doing what he did to him for over a year. I also don’t often comment on sex scenes in YA, but I really, really disliked the sex in this book. Like I said, Noah is so naive and reads so young, that I kept forgetting he was 16, not like 14, and even still Dara is at least 18, when they do it, so it was just immensely uncomfortable to read. That scene also had the absolute worst line I have read this year which was, I shit you not “Dara was born to lie on mussed bedsheets with wet hair spilling like an ink stain onto white pillows, flush cheeked” pg.250 I am feeling iffy just writing it down right now, knowing the context of this character! Speaking of, let’s talk about Lehrer. First, let’s all acknowledge that Lehrer IS Magneto. He is a revolutionary who has a very loose sense of morals/regard for human life, he isn’t above violent and destructive means, he is incredibly good at inspiring and manipulating people into joining him, he is Jewish, and he is powerful. I can’t say anything more about him without MAJOR SPOILERS, so if you haven’t read this, skip to the end. From the very first scene Lehrer appeared, I thought the way he acts around Noam was strange. There is a constant, underlying sense of predation in all of his scenes; the scenes are written as a type of seduction, and though he is never explicitly sexual with Noam, it is very clear that his intentions and feelings for Noam aren’t just paternal. Lehrer is praying on Noam, and Noam constantly flip flops between feeling attracted to Lehrer and considering him a mentor, father like figure. This was beyond uncomfortable to read; watching Noam be manipulated for 300 pages was hard enough, without constantly being worried that Lehrer would escalate their relationship. And then we find out that we were right all along, and Lehrer really is a predator; the bruises and marks Dara has are not from Ames, they are from Lehrer. Lehrer, who is his legal guardian, who has raised him like a son. I wanted to vomit. Not only that, but we also learn that Lehrer’s true power is persuasion: it’s similar to Alison from The Umbrella Academy’s power in that he can influence what people who are around him do, and he uses that power both on Dara and Noam. This made the ending incredibly confusing; did Noam forget what Dara told him about Lehrer releasing the virus? Does he only remember certain things but not that? Does he not remember the part where Dara told him Lehrer has been assaulting him for years? If he doesn’t, then why did Noam rescue Dara at the end? If he does, then why does he believe Lehrer when he says he never used his powers on Noam, when he clearly blatantly did? This reveal made the book incredibly fascinating to me, but also, I wanted to throw up. I still feel ill writing this review. I will give Lee all the credit; she got me hooked. I want to see what happens to Noam, I want to see what exactly his relationship with Lehrer will be now that Dara is gone, what happened to Wolf (did he turn into a dog? Fullmetal Alchemist style?) Conclusion: This is an ambitious but confusing book. It’s lead 3 characters, and the dynamics between them are the real draw, but the worldbuilding and plot leave a lot to be desired. I would recommend it, but if you are at all disturbed by abuse, implied rape, and predatory behavior… maybe read the X-men instead.

goodreads

#fever king #fever king review #moni talks #book review

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thehollowprince · 6 years

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Hey, it’s the “coding” anon here and honestly that answer to my question was excellent and the exact reason I come to your blog. I would absolutely love to hear you go on about the fetishization of m/m relationships!

This has been sitting in my inbox for over a week, and I want to apologize. I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this one, but I'm overworked at the moment. I've been pulling 60+ hour work weeks, by myself and I haven't had off since the first of December, so I'm a little tired. But I'm here and I'm ready to murder this bitch of a subject.

For starters, and for context, in case anyone who sees this doesn't follow my blog or, if you do and don't really pay attention, I am a gay man, so a lot of this comes from my own personal experience.

Now, onward my fandom soldiers.

M|M Fetishization & Objectification

I've only been super active within fandom spaces for the last couple of years. Before that, I just scrolled through Tumblr and reblogged gifsets and fluffy headcanons and whatnot, but even then I noticed a trend in fandoms that made me uncomfortable. That trend was the overabundance of gay men (chatacters) in fandom works, especially when there either weren't any gay men in that show or book or whatever.

I'm not at all saying we need less of that. I want and need more gay characters in the things I watch and read. That's actually one of the criteria I look for before I start a new show, or a book series or comics. I want to see myself represented in the media I consume, even if it is only this one tiny piece of who I am. But the problem for me arose when I saw all these fan works and headcanons and gifsets and thesis length metas about gay or bi male characters that were neither of those things in their original source material.

The biggest examples of this occured in fairly popular shows that I loved at one point, but do to a combination of bad writing and then the horrible fandom, drove me to actively dislike and avoid them. And that's always a sad thing, when you end up losing the love you had for something because others just won't let you enjoy it as it is.

Those two examples are Teen Wolf and Supernatural.

For years I watched people go on and on and on and on about Stiles Stilinski and Dean Winchester and how they were bisexual and so on and so forth.

There's nothing wrong with headcanoning a character as gay or bisexual, especially when those characters are severely lacking on screen and on paper. The problem arose when the fandom at large started to ignore the ACTUAL gay or bisexual characters that are in these shows and focus solely on their headcanons as the only representation in the show.

To start with Teen Wolf, we had, in the first season, an openly gay character that everybody in the school loved, that being Danny Mahealani. This character was introduced as gay from the very start, but oddly enough, there is almost no large fandom meta or fics or anything about him. In fact, a lot of his traits and qualities ended up transferred to Stiles, such as his intelligence and overall popularity. Hell, even Danny's attraction to Derek was stolen and transferred to him. These aren't things that Stiles is overall known for in the actual canon. He's clumsy and socially awkward and on the outskirts of the school like Scott (the main character) and has been obsessed (to the point of being considered a stalker) with one girl since elementary school, but somehow, in fandom, Stiles is suddenly the genius polyglot queer with severe depression who has a crush on the broody muscular werewolf who just wants somebody to love him.

Fandom created this portrayal of the character that didn't exist anywhere in the fandom except for his appearance. The reason I saw behind this was twofold. 1: fangirls (fandom is mostly female) want to see two "hot" guys kiss and get it on because they get off to it, much in the same way that straight men get off to lesbian porn. 2: Stiles (or any of these headcanoned characters) becomes a sort of self insert.

What I mean by that second one is that women and girls find a male character that's not "too masculine", usually kind of gangly or skinny, somewhat on the effeminate side. Someone that they can project their ideas and insecurities and so forth onto so that they can that pursue that relationship with the hunky manly man that they want to bang.

You may be asking yourself, "Why don't they just use one of the female characters as a self insert?" and I'm here to tell you that I have neither the time nor the experience to go into detail about internalized misogyny and how effects the way women do almost everything, even watching and interpreting their media.

But the reason they chose the male character is that, years ago, during the dark days of FF.net there was a lot of self insert OCs that infiltrated almost every level of fanfiction. Which caused the fandom gatekeepers to rear out of their hibernation and just shame anyone who tried to introduce an Original Character to this already beautiful world and ruin it with their lusts. Thus the OCs slowly disappeared and identifying with the male sidekick was born. And this is generally where we get the whole "my smol gay son!" bullshit. (side note: please keep in mind that 75% of shows are male characters and their problems, which is another cause for female fans to identify solely with men.)

So, for years, I watched Danny, and then his boyfriend Ethan, being shoved aside in fandom spaces so that the fans could focus Sterek (Stiles and Derek) despite the fact that both characters were stared to be heterosexual and that, on screen, they expressed nothing but mutual dislike for one another, if not outright hatred. This got so bad that Sterek, the crack ship whose members had no romantic or sexual interactions whatsoever, managed to beat (by a very large margin) actual gay ships from both this show and others in a fan poll. It got even worse when the character of Danny was written off the show (with no explanation) and we were introduced to the character of Mason.

Mason Hewitt was everything that fandom!Stiles was. He was smart and funny and openly gay and crushing on a hot werewolf. He even did the research that the fandom loved to attribute to Stiles, literally everything that the fandom had Stiles doing in fanon, but somehow the love for him (Mason) wasn't that big of a note in the fandom. I mean, Mason was even a major plot point of season five and the pack's mission to stop the Beast, but i heard nothing but cricket chirps from the fandom.

You'd think that after Stiles was written out of the show for the last season that maybe Mason will get some love now, right?

Wrong!

I didn't think it was possible to get any worse, but the fandom proved me wrong. Because instead of focusing all their pent up energy on Mason and his boyfriend, Corey, who had a number of cute moments in that final season, these fans focused on another crack ship that had no basis anywhere except in their fantasies. That ship being Thiam, which is based, once again, around two characters who actively dislike, if not outright hate, each other and even physically assault one another. But no, that apparently is a display of affection by someone who is emotionally stunted and just needs love to blossom and be his true self.

You notice how often the fetishization of homosexuality (even if only imagined) intersects with woobification?

You'll notice, if you look at Danny and Mason, that they're both POC, with Danny being brown (Hawai'ian) and Mason being black. Now, as I've said before on this blog multiple times, I am the Whittest White Man to ever White, so I don't have any qualifications to talk about fandom racism, so I'm just going to leave that little nugget there for you to think about and interpret how you will.

Moving on to Supernatural...

Before we start with this one, understand that I have not watched this show outside of an episode here and there since season eight, because I realized that no, this show wasn't going to get any better, so if any of this is contradictory to what has happened over the past six seasons (god, this show needs to die!) I do apologize.

Dean Winchester... I never really liked this character, especially as the show went on and I started to actively dislike and then, hate him. So it was annoying not being able to go into any aspect of the Supernatural fandom without coming across a post about Dean and his issues or his Bi sexiness or how his brother was mean to him.

Also, people, understand that this wasn't a new revelation for me. My dislike for Dean and the fandom's obsession with making him bisexual just so they could hook him up with Cas wasn't an overnight decision. I was there...

I was there at the Beginning, when this show first aired, when the ONLY constant characters on this show were Sam and Dean. I endured the hellfire that was Wincest and its infection of almost the entire fandom. Like, that right there, that was one of the most extreme cases of m|m fetishization I've ever seen, because the fandom needed to get off to two guys being together so badly that they turned to actual brothers for want of any other male character.

That's why Destiel immediately became so popular, because here was another guy that we saw with semi regularity that wasn't rated to the Winchesters, obviously they were meant to ship them.

Now, you may be asking yourself, "I thought this bitch was going to talk about gay fetishization, not his dislike for one character?" to which I'll just say I very easily go off tangent. But all of that is relevant because, come one of these later seasons, there was a scene where Dean was at a bar and the (male) bartender hit on him, and he didn't react negatively or homophobic.

Oh, my God, I watched my dash and the tags explode in post after post, meta after meta, about how Bi Dean was canon confirmed! Now he and Cas will HAVE to be together, because its canon that Dean likes guys. and Cas is an angel, who doesn't follow human sexual limitations, and... blah, blah, blah.

Cut to a few years later, and we're introduced to a character named Max Banes, a witch and hunter, who is openly gay and flirts with Sam in his first appearance. Where were all of his metas and fanfics and headcanons? Granted, he only appeared in two episodes, but I have watched people in this and other fandoms build mountains our of molehills, going on and on about how two male characters weren't actually straight and how they were destined to be together because the once wore similar style shirts a couple of seasons apart, or because of a carnation in a jacket pocket that signified love via the Victorian flower code (or something like that), or how the wallpaper of that room they shared a scene in was a subtle clue to their true desire for each other, etc.

And I'm not exaggerating there, those are actual examples I've seen in fandoms over the years.

But back to Max, why is it that he was left along the wayside, despite fitting most of the criteria that fandoms love in their m|m ships while Dean had entire thesis level posts about that time he shared a glance with Castiel or he let a bartender hit on him and not get upset?

And its not just these two shows, not by a long shot. If you were to go into literally any fandom of a certain size or bigger, you will come across fans putting two straight characters together because of "the chemistry" they have. Even if those characters are confirmed to be straight - especially if those characters are confirmed to be straight. Because when these loud fans don't get their crack ship that they rub one out to, they scream queerbaiting and homophobia and oppression, harassing the actors and producers and directors and writers.

Here are some others that just pop to the front of my mind...

Asher Millstone from How To Get Away With Murder (saw him shipped with Connor a lot, despite Connor's actual boyfriend)

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson from BBC's Sherlock

Tony Stark from Marvel comics (all because of one panel where he said "ladies and gents" when he announced he was off the market

Literally any male character in the MCU, which is his we get the things like Stucky and Stony that permeate the fandom on almost every level (and some leeway is given here because of the MCU's lack of wueer characters)

Klaus Mikaelson and Stefan Salvatore from The Vampire Diaries/The Originals (honestly, I was surprised that people in the TVD fandom weren't immediately all over Josh and Lucas, because they're literally everything that fans want and use in their headcanon gays)

Kol Mikaelson and Jeremg Gilbert, also from TVD

Elia and Filippo from Skam Italia (despite there being, once again, actual gay characters on this show. Hell, the entire second season was dedicated to a character coming out of the closet and being with a guy)

Etc.

I could go on and on but then this post would seem infinite.

Closing thoughts, please keep in mind that I am just one guy and that my opinions don't represent everyone in fandom spaces. But also bear in mind, that my frustrations are well founded and valid from my own experiences in the fandom.

My sexuality and the fact that I'm attracted to men is not a toy for a bunch of sexually repressed fangirls who think two guys being together is hot.

#long post #not sorry at all #rant #m|m fetishization #gay objectification #creepy fangirls

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starstruckpurpledragon · 6 years

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So earlier today I saw an ask on @fuckyeahasexual talking about there being articles on Vice about aromanticism and asexuality. Well, mostly asexuality, but there was apparently one on aromanticism too. I didn’t really have time to read it then, but I wasn’t super impressed by the tagline “They're never gonna fall in love—because they don't want to.”

A person’s orientation isn’t a choice, so I tend to be kind of wary of phrasing that implies the opposite. So not a great start for the article.

It’s actually not bad. It was written in 2014 and despite being 5 years old (well, in September it will be), its information hasn’t aged badly (there’s still the 1% of the population is ace figure that’s outdated, but... 2014). I really don’t like some of the author’s tendency towards flippant humor, but I’ll get to that some below the cut. Overall, its a decent take on aromanticism from an outsider’s perspective and, better yet, the aromantics interviewed for the article aren’t all aroace, there’s a lesbian aro and straight aro who get quoted, and a few other aros who may or may not be ace mentioned throughout the article. I also think it does a fairly good job of addressing common misconceptions like ‘aros are late bloomers’ and ‘it’s a tumblr thing’, though your mileage may vary on that one.

I particularly like the closing paragraph:

It’s clear that the human experience that sits under the label of “aromantic” is not simple. Aros may feel sexual attractions, they may not. They may want to be intimate, they may not. They might want relationships with one special person, or have squishes, they might not. Their ideal Christmas present might be a Blu-ray copy of The Notebook, or they might have taste. But all of this variation doesn’t make the label less valid. Why should minority sexual and romantic orientations have to fit into strict criteria? Straight, romantic people aren’t all easily defined either. Love is complicated, and humans are more so—and when you think in those terms, I guess the real question is why aren't there more labels for the way that we relate to each other?

Okay, so I do like some of the flippant humor because I’ll never not find taking potshots at The Notebook funny.

If you’re looking for some 101 resources to start explaining aromanticism to a non-aro friend, this would be a good article to toss their way. Below the cut is a deeper look at the good and bad aspects of the article.

The Good:

While the article uses asexuality as a jumping off point for explaining aromanticism, the author makes it clear that asexual does not equal aromantic or vice versa. She discusses sexuality as a spectrum then introduces the concept of romantic orientations as a spectrum too, moving from there into a deeper view of aromanticism.

She debunks a lot of misconceptions about aromanticism:

Discusses how its not about disliking romantic gestures

Makes it clear that aromantics aren’t psychopaths (though this was one of the places her flippant humor irked me)

Touches on the concept that aromantics do feel all kinds of platonic love, just not romantic love

Tackles the idea that aromantics are just late bloomers, examining the reasoning behind that assumption and ultimately uses quotes from an interviewed aro to land firmly against the idea that aromantics are just late bloomers

Also tackles the idea that we’re just tumblr snowflakes, though this one is more of a mixed-bag of results and YMMV just how well she deals with it

Discusses how enjoying romance as a genre does not disqualify a person from being aromantic

Confronts the idea that aromantics are all sex-fiends both with quotes from aros who explain why thats not true and from using her own logic skills to pick apart the fallacy

While she doesn’t discuss amatanormativity by name, she does tackle the concept to some degree. There are quotes from aromantics discussing the harm society’s expectations regarding romance have made aros feel uncomfortable or even broken.

Describing squishes using AVEN’s definition was a good start - “a desire for a strong platonic relationship with someone which is usually more emotionally intimate than a typical friendship.” - which makes it all the more annoying when her treatment of the term squish is immediately fumbled afterwards. (More below in ‘The Bad’ section.)

She discusses what QPRs are and while the definition given isn’t the greatest - there’s no mention of alterous attractions and the standard ‘romantic relationship levels of commitment between intensely close friends’ description is given. While some aros are okay with this type of description for QPRs and other aros are very intensely against it, this is definitely a spot where YMMV. While I’m ultimately glad that QPRs were addressed at all and in a way that non-aros can start grasping the concept, I do find it frustrating that she implies that QPRs are sort of friendship+ since that’s not really what they are.

The Bad:

I admit, I really just don’t like the tagline. In addition to my earlier complaints, it erases aromantics who do want to be in a romantic relationship. There are a lot of valid reasons an aro might choose to be in a romantic relationship and I don’t think that ever really gets addressed in the article, which instead frames all aro relationships as either friendships or QPRs.

“Aromanticism is simply the fundamental desire to not be in a romantic relationship.” - That’s... not really a good explanation of what aromanticism is. While it, thankfully, doesn’t imply that aromanticism is a choice, it doesn’t actually describe what aromanticism is - not experiencing romantic attraction - and equates aromanticism with behavior - not wanting to be in a romantic relationship. This once again erases aromantics who are in romantic relationships for any number of valid reasons.

“Unlike psychopaths or people who just don’t want to be in a romantic relationship with you (ugh, weirdos), aros are capable of love.” - While I’m glad she addresses both that aros aren’t psychopaths and that aros do feel love, I could do without the amatanormative joke in the middle there. The idea that only weirdos wouldn’t be romantically attracted to a person is really entitled and creepy and gross and just jarring to have there. The semi-flippant treatment of dismissing the psychopath misconception isn’t all that great either, but YMMV. In this particular context its just very uncomfortable to me, perhaps largely because the person making the joke isn’t aro.

The dismissive attitude towards aro culture because we make jokes about auto-correct, discuss fandom headcanons, and create pride flags. These are all things that pretty much every LGBT+ identity does and its insulting to single us out for being comfortable enough with our aromanticism to start having fun and taking pride in ourselves. None of that is inherently childish and I really can’t tell if she’s being ignorant or indulging in ageism by classifying things she’s not interested in as things that adults don’t do.

The equally dismissive treatment of aromantic terms, like ‘squish’ and ‘zucchini’. ‘Squish’ is no more childish than the term ‘crush’ and plenty of adults use the word ‘crush’ to describe their romantic feelings. And while ‘zucchini’ may sound weird without knowing the history behind it (or even when you do) slang pretty much always sounds weird. It’s even more frustrating because one of the quotes in this section are used to reinforce the author’s disdainful attitude towards the adequacy of our terminology. Not every aro finds these words useful but its downright hurtful to see an aro quoted calling the word ‘squish’ juvenile or equate it with being ‘emotionally stunted’. (Seriously, while I can understand wanting equivalent terms we can use that are less likely to be dismissed by non-aros, I hope everyone will try to remember that dismissing words like ‘squish’ is really hypocritical when similar slang terms are widely in use for conveying romantic emotions and are not treated as childish. It’s just another form of aromisia and one that is very easily internalized.)

Overall, the author seemed extremely open to understanding what aromanticism really is and the parts of her writing that conveyed amatanormative and aromisic sentiments could be put down to her simply still being ignorant on the subject. It’s definitely a good starting point for non-aros to learn some of the basics about aromanticism. I don’t know if I’d recommend this to someone trying to figure out if they themselves are aro, though.

#aromantic article #non-aro author #aromisia #arophobia #good as a 101 article for non-aros #aro erasure #2014 #I might go back later and checkout the articles on asexuality #but I was more interested in the aro article #because as little as there is on asexuality there's even less on aromanticism #aro 101

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fireladybuckley · 7 years

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A Nose for Trouble

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing: Bones/Reader Prompt/Request: Inspired by a prompt on a list of "Meet ugly" prompts - “You punched me in the face while gesticulating wildly to a friend” AU Word Count: 6552 Warnings: Blood, injury, fluff Author’s note: Thanks to @imamotherfuckingstar-lord for advice and @outside-the-government for beta’ing, as usual (because she’s awesome) <3.

It was an absolutely beautiful summer afternoon, and you smiled as you stepped out into the sunlit quad after your last lecture for the day. You’d just gotten your midterm results back and were quite pleased with them, so there was a spring in your step as you began to stroll across the busy area, arms wrapped around your books and a small, satisfied smile on your face. You were daydreaming as you walked, not noticing you were following one of your classmates and his friend. Eventually their conversation drifted back to you and you started to listen in once you’d recognized that the guy walking directly in front of you sat behind you in one of your classes.

“Bones, it’s one question,” your classmate’s friend reasoned, walking sideways so he could look directly at his friend. “Does it really matter? You got a 98.”

“It’s the principle of it,” your classmate, Leonard, grumbled. “He wanted us to explain the oxygen cascade, so I did.”

“You wrote two pages, Bones,” Leonard’s friend said with amusement. “Didn’t you say the question was worth like three marks?”

“Again, that’s not the point, Jim,” Leonard retorted, and you held back a small giggle at the annoyed look on his face, still walking unnoticed behind them. You’d gotten three out of three on that question and had only written a couple of lines; it made you wonder how in depth Leonard must have gone to have written so much. “He got all the information he wanted; just much more in-depth and detailed. How could I have known he wanted something so simplistic?” Jim snatched the test Leonard was whipping around while he spoke and rifled through the pages until he found the question, forcing you to match their pace behind them as they slowed down.

“It says “give a simple explanation of the oxygen cascade”,” Jim read, then grinned at Leonard. “I’m guessing going into exact measurements and paragraph-long explanations of each step isn’t quite what he was asking for.”

“I shouldn’t even have to take this class,” Leonard said grumpily, ignoring Jim’s amusement. “I learned all of this years ago, I’m a doc—”

“Yeah, yeah, we know; you’re a doctor,” Jim said cheerfully, clapping Leonard on the shoulder.

You lost thread of their conversation as a group of chattering students pushed between you, forcing you to stop for a moment. One of the girls in the group waved at you and called a greeting so you answered her, quickly forgetting about Leonard and Jim ahead of you. You paused to check the time on your communicator after your friend had wandered off, slipped the device back into your pocket and continued on in the direction you’d been going, breathing in the warm air and sighing contentedly. You noticed that Jim and Leonard had stopped just ahead and angled yourself to move around them, aiming to skirt Leonard at the edge of the sidewalk where the pavement met the grass.

Leonard, meanwhile, was mostly unaware of his surroundings as he stewed in his bad mood. It wasn’t that he was upset about getting a near-perfect score rather than a perfect one, it was just the principle of the matter. He articulated this once again to Jim, who was clearly amused rather than sympathetic and began to tease him about being a perfectionist.

“It’s not being a perfectionist to expect the marks for a correct answer,” Leonard protested, shaking his head as Jim laughed. “Even if I wrote him a damn—” Leonard cut himself off in surprise as the back of his wildly gesticulating hand suddenly hit something solid. His brain catching up with his senses, he realized that whatever he’d hit had felt warm, and a yelp filled his ears as he whirled around, his eyes wide. He watched in horror as you toppled, faster than he could catch you, though he did lurch forward and try.

You slipped on the grass and though you tried, you couldn’t keep your footing. With another yelp, you fell over and hit the ground hard on your rear end and back, your books and PADD flying in different directions upon impact. Letting out a groan of pain, you clamped a hand over your nose and struggled to sit up, and Leonard could already see blood starting to slip past your fingers.

“Oh shit,” Leonard gasped, his hand over his mouth in horror, hurrying forward after a moment to see if you were okay. He dropped to his knees beside you and reached instinctively for your face, but you flinched away from him, gasping as blood began to drip through your fingers and onto your chest, staining your red cadet jacket a darker scarlet.

“I am so sorry,” Leonard said emphatically, feeling horrible as Jim scrambled around behind you, collecting your books and PADD.

“You punched me!” you gasped, still shocked by the unexpected blow and the pain pounding through your face. The blood pouring out of your nose was making you feel panicky and a bit faint, and you groaned as you fruitlessly tried to stop the flow with your hands.

“I didn’t mean to!” Leonard hovered, wanting to take over the situation but clearly unwilling to touch you when you were leaning away from him. “Jim, go get a med pack, now!”

You heard, rather than saw Jim sprint off back towards the building you’d all just left a few minutes earlier and moaned softly, your nose throbbing painfully.

“Please, lean forward,” Leonard told you anxiously, and you could tell from his tone of voice that he felt extremely bad for what he’d done. “The fastest way to get the blood to stop is to lean forward and pinch the bridge of your nose.”

You whimpered but decided to listen to him, the pain and nasty feeling of the gushing blood overriding your indignation of him hitting you for now. You shuffled so you were sitting properly with your legs open in a V-shape in front of you, knees partway up and leaning forward as best as you could. You reach up with a bloody hand and pinch the bridge of your nose as instructed, gasping in pain as you do so.

“I know it hurts, you’re doing really well though,” Leonard said reassuringly. He reached out hesitantly and put his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you, and when you didn’t protest, he rubbed your upper back gently, hoping to soothe. “I am so sorry,” he said again, and you could hear the guilt in his voice, clear as day. You shrugged, unwilling to forgive him immediately, but also not wanting him to feel so badly; you were sure it had been an accident.

“You’re in my physiology class. You sit in front of me, right?” Leonard asked after a minute, still with a reassuring hand on your upper back. You gave a small nod, ceasing the motion almost immediately as it made your nose sear with pain, making you whimper again.

There was a pounding of feet nearby as you watched Jim’s shoes come back into view and you could hear him huffing and puffing as he wordlessly handed Leonard the med pack he was holding, clutching a stitch in his side once Leonard had taken it. Leonard quickly dug around in the pack and came up with a couple of handfuls of gauze, which he held out to you.

You clumsily took the gauze from him in your free hand and pressed it gingerly to the underside of your nose, soaking up the blood that was still flowing but had slowed considerably. You spat out the blood that had made its way into your mouth into the gauze and tried to mop up the lower part of your face. Unfortunately, there was far too much blood to clean without a sink, and all you managed to do was smear it around, the feeling of which made you shudder.

“Can I take that gauze?” Leonard asked you after a moment, and you glanced up at him miserably. “I have some fresh ones ready here.” You carefully peeled the gauze away from your face, some of it already sticking in the drying blood, and shakily held it out to him. He took the blood-soaked gauze in a gloved hand and put it into a plastic baggie, then handed you the bundle of fresh gauze. The blood had finally slowed to a trickle and you dabbed at it delicately, wincing at the twinges of pain that shot through your face at every touch.

Leonard was shuffling around, digging through the med pack again, and a moment later he approached you with an ice pack.

“May I?” he asked, leaning in closer, clearly intent on applying the ice pack himself. You flinched away before you could help it, not wanting his hands near your face again so soon, and saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes as he realized you didn’t trust him. Attempting to avoid an awkward moment, you carefully unpinched your nose, reached out and took the ice pack from him.

“Thanks, I’ve got it,” you say, carefully bringing it up to the bridge of your nose and placing it down. You let out a small whine as the initial contact brings pain, but quite quickly the chill sinks down into your nose and begins to soothe some of the agony, and you sigh in relief. As the pain began to fade, you glanced up at Leonard, who was kneeling immediately beside you, watching you intently, and Jim, who was hovering nearby, holding your things. You sigh and drop your gaze back down, trying to focus on how the chill of the ice was numbing your face, which, while uncomfortable in its own right, was still preferable to the pain.

“I think the bleeding stopped,” you said after a few minutes, your voice sounding like you had a bad head cold.

“Oh, good,” Leonard said, leaning a little closer. “Can I see?” You reluctantly pulled the ice pack off of your face and raised your head a bit so that he could briefly examine you. “I think you’re right, it looks like it’s stopped.”

“Good. I want to get out of here,” you said, positioning yourself so you could stand. You were well aware that people were staring at you and clearly wondering what had happened, and you knew you must’ve looked horrifying with blood all down your face and neck, a pile of red-stained gauze beside you. Jim was trying to get people to move along when they slowed down to either gawk or offer help, but you could still feel many pairs of eyes on you and were feeling extremely keen to get away from everyone.

Leonard stood and held out a hand to you, but you were already scrambling to your feet and don’t take his offer. You got upright fairly quickly and easily, but once you were standing you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you and you wavered on the spot, feeling like the world was spinning a little faster than normal. Clearly seeing this, Leonard reached out and gently grabbed your upper arm, holding you steady so you wouldn’t fall over again. After a moment the dizziness mostly passed and you nodded at him to indicate that you were alright.

“Are you sure?” he asked, reluctant to let go just yet. “You look very pale.” You pulled on your coat to settle it properly and glanced down, noticing the large puddle of blood on your chest and feeling another wave of dizziness wash over you, this time more to do with your queasiness around blood than anything.

“I’m guessing that has something to do with the paleness,” you said, gesturing vaguely at and quickly averting your eyes from the stain, feeling your stomach lurch. Leonard made a sympathetic face as you took a few deep breaths, then pulled away from him as soon as you felt strong enough to stand on your own.

“If you’re feeling well enough to walk, I’d like to take you to the med centre and get your nose scanned,” Leonard said, gesturing towards the building to your right. “I want to make sure there isn’t a fracture.”

“I’d really rather go back to my room right now,” you said flatly, the thought of going to the med centre covered in blood and having to be examined an extremely unwelcome thought at the moment.

“Oh, but—” Leonard began, and you held up a hand to silence him.

“I don’t want to go to the medical centre,” you repeated firmly, shaking your head just a little to avoid jarring your injury. You put the ice pack back on your nose and sigh, then continued. “I just want to take a couple of ibuprofen and get cleaned up right now.” Your voice was firm though still congested, and he sighed, clearly not pleased with your decision but wisely deciding not to argue.

“Alright, but at least let me walk you back to your dorm room,” he said. “I would feel even worse if you fainted or something else happened and I hadn’t made sure you were safe after what I did.”

You fought back the urge to tell him to go away and gave a small nod, then turned and began to slowly walk towards the dorms. You quickly realized that you couldn’t really hold the ice on your face and walk at the same time without causing more pain, so you trudged along without it, trying to hold in your complaints as the pain began to return as your face warmed up again in the sun.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to go into the med centre?” Leonard asked as the three of you came level with said building, about to pass it.

“He’s a doctor, after all,” Jim chimed in unhelpfully, and you shot him an annoyed look before declining Leonard’s repeated question. You ruminated on the thought of Leonard being a doctor for a while, the pain in your face increasing as your mood steadily decreased.

“I thought doctors were supposed to do no harm,” you muttered as your face gave a particularly painful twinge. You realized too late that you said it a little louder than you’d meant to and Leonard had surely heard you, but you were feeling a little too surly to be sorry just yet, despite knowing that your remark wasn’t fair. You knew full well what had happened was an accident, but it was hard to feel forgiving when your face was on fire. Leonard didn’t say anything, and the three of you continued on in silence, thankfully moving away from all the prying eyes on the quad. It took far longer than it should have to get back to the dorm building; your nose started to bleed again at one point, prompting Leonard to dig through the kit for more gauze. You leaned back against the building in the scant shade available, holding the ice to your nose until the blood slowed again and then trudged on.

Finally, the three of you arrived at the building and took a turbolift to the fourth floor, the guys insisting on escorting you all the way to your room despite your protests. You clumsily swiped your ID card to open your door, and stepped into the room. Leonard and Jim hovered at the door; you sighed slightly and gave a small jerk of the head, inviting them in, regretting the jerking motion as your nose seared again.

“Do you have another ice pack?” Leonard asked as he stepped into the room.

“Yeah, I have a whole first aid kit,” you confirmed, gesturing vaguely towards the bathroom.

“If the pain gets any worse or it doesn’t get any better after a couple of hours, please go to the med centre,” Leonard pleaded, looking worried.

“I will, I will,” you agreed, tossing your ice pack onto your table and standing there facing them, feeling decidedly awkward. “I’ll take some ibuprofen, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Actually, acetaminophen would be better,” Leonard said automatically, unable to get out of doctor mode. “Ibuprofen has a slight but not completely insignificant chance of thinning the blood, which could make you bleed more.” You sighed, then gave a small nod to show you understood.

“I’m sure I have some of that somewhere too,” you said, watching as Leonard hovered, unsure, near the doorway, clearly wanting to do more to help but not overstep his boundaries. “Look, thank you for helping me,” you said, your voice softening slightly.

“I’m just so sorry that this happened in the first place,” Leonard said, a morose tone to his voice. “I’m an idiot, I should have been paying attention.”

“Accidents happen,” you said, a bit grimly. “I just want to lie down now though, okay? I promise I’ll go to the med centre if it feels any worse.”

“Or doesn’t get better.”

“—Or doesn’t get better, yeah.”

Leonard looked like he wanted to insist on taking you there himself, but he seemed to talk himself out of it and gestured to the door so Jim would start heading out. Jim put your books and PADD down on the table next to your ice pack and gave you a fleeting smile, then left the room. Leonard stepped halfway out, and then turned to look back at you one more time.

“Sorry again. See you tomorrow.”

You sighed heavily as Leonard stepped fully out of the room and the door snapped closed behind him. You ordered your room’s computer to lock the door and hobbled into your bed area, cringing and taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Standing in front of your mirror, you winced as you took a look; blood covered the centre of the lower half of your face and all down your neck and on your chest. Even though your cadet uniform was bright red, the blood was pretty obvious. You unzipped the jacket and shrugged out of it, tossing it aside for now; it would obviously have to be deep cleaned. You hurried into the bathroom and filled the sink with warm water, grabbed a washcloth and some soap and began to clean the blood from your skin, scrubbing hard in the places where it had already dried. You were careful to go very slowly and gingerly around your nose and nostrils, and with some effort, your skin was finally clean. The water in the sink was stained pinkish red and you drained it, shuddering at the lasting memory of how all that blood had felt on your skin. The lower part of your face and your neck was bright pink from all the scrubbing, and your nose was hurting more than it did before from the aggravation of cleaning it.

You quickly popped a couple of acetaminophen like he’d told you to, grabbed a second ice pack from the first aid kit and went to lie down on the couch. You activated the ice pack and settled it over the bridge of your nose with a sigh, lying there and hoping against hope that the pain would fade soon and that the pills would work, lamenting the loss of your excellent mood prior to the incident.

You woke up a few hours later, feeling a bit dazed, and the first thing you noticed was the pain in your face. The ice pack had slipped off once you’d dozed off and was lying uselessly on the ground beside you. Your nose and head in general was throbbing and you groaned as you struggled to sit up in the semi-darkness.

“Lights, seventy percent,” you said, then winced and gasped as even that brightness seared your eyes. “Ow, never mind, lights – forty percent!” You breathed a sigh as the lights dimmed to a manageable level and you sat there for a moment, collecting your bearings. According to your comm, it was a good three hours since you’d gotten back to your dorm, and the pain hadn’t receded any. If anything, it had gotten a bit worse. Sighing heavily, you decided to take Leonard’s advice and head down to the med centre.

Donning a pair of sunglasses so the bright lights in the hallways didn’t make your headache infinitely worse, you pulled on a clean cadet jacket over your tank top and left your room, heading towards the medical building. The hallways were fairly empty – everyone was probably off having supper – and you were grateful not to run into anyone as you made your way out of the dorm building. It was still light outside but the sun was much lower in the sky, and you were able to see through your glasses without much pain. In no time you were in the medical building and heading down the hallway that lead to the non-emergency clinic, where you sincerely hoped Leonard himself was not working. It wasn’t that you didn’t think he was a capable doctor; you were just feeling incredibly awkward and also guilty for your comment earlier and didn’t fancy seeing him again so soon.

The waiting room was empty save for one person with their attention devoted to whatever was on their PADD’s screen, and you approached the desk just as a nurse came around the corner.

“Oh! Hey you!” Christine Chapel, your across-the-hall dorm neighbour, smiled as she recognized you and came over to the desk.

“Hi Chris,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant and like your face wasn’t on fire.

“What brings you in today?” she asked, looking at you curiously. Her eyes had found the bridge of your nose, and her brows knit together. “What happened to your nose? Why are you wearing sunglasses?” You sighed and slowly pulled the sunglasses from your face, and your eyes widened slightly as she gasped.

“I got hit in the face earlier and I think my nose is broken,” you muttered, slipping the sunglass into a pocket.

“What?! Who hit you? Did they get caught?” Chris was instantly indignant and looked angry, and though you appreciated her immediate leap to defend you, it was not necessary.

“It was an accident, L- er, someone was gesturing a little wildly on the quad when I was walking by and essentially punched me in the nose,” you explained, deciding to leave Leonard’s name out of it for now. You’re aware that Christine and Leonard knew and worked with each other here at this very clinic, and you weren’t sure if she would think it was funny or be angry that it had been him.

“Well, come in,” Chris said, reaching out a hand to usher you into the clinic. “I’ll get you settled in a room.” She grasped the back of your upper arm gently and lead you into one of the nearby rooms, dimming the lights to a comfortable level when she noticed you were squinting.

“So, do you know who it was that hit you?” Christine asked as she ran a tricorder over you, getting your vitals. “Did they stop to help?”

“Well, yeah,” you said awkwardly, watching the tricorder to avoid eye contact. “He felt really bad and brought me back to my room.”

“He should have brought you straight here,” Christine said disapprovingly, and you could hear a definite annoyed note in her tone. “Judging by these bruises and the shape of that nose, you were bleeding a lot.”

“Bruises?” you asked anxiously, realizing you hadn’t taken a look at yourself in the mirror before you’d left. Christine seemed to understand, and she slipped her comm out of her pocket and turned on the inward facing camera. Your face appeared on the screen and you gasped in horror at the huge dark splotch across the middle of your face. It started on either side of the bridge of your nose and spread out in either direction under both of your eyes, and you had a suspicion that it was only the beginning. You were already dreading waking up in the morning because you were sure you would have two complete black eyes.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Christine offered, clearly trying to make you feel better. You groan and gingerly put your head in your hands, letting out a sigh.

“I knew I should’ve come here right away. I just wanted to get away from everyone staring at me, but Leonard said I should come here, and—”

“Leonard?” Christine interrupted, her interest piqued. “Leonard McCoy? Did he come and help you?”

“I…” you hesitate, then can’t stop a small smile from twitching at the corners of your lips.

“Was he the one that did this?!” Christine asks, aghast, and you can’t help but laugh at the combined horror and amusement on her face. You nod, and she laughs too, then shakes her head. “Was he at least apologetic?”

“Oh, yeah,” you confirmed, “he apologized at least four times and sounded incredibly guilty. He was trying to insist on bringing me here but I refused.”

“Leonard’s a good guy,” Christine nodded, putting away the tricorder and tapping something into her PADD. She paused, then grinned at you. “But he’s never going to live this one down.” You let out a little giggle and she patted you on the leg as she stood up. “I’ll go get the doctor now sweetie, you just sit tight.”

“It’s… it’s not Leonard is it?” you ask, torn between laughing and crying at the thought. Christine chuckles and shakes her head, and you sigh with relief as she leaves. A few minutes later, a cheerful-looking middle aged woman in a lab coat entered the room, looking concerned but amused.

“Hello dear, I’m Dr. Medina,” she told you as she set down her PADD and picked up a light. “I’m just going to check your pupil response first.” You flinched as she shone a bright light into each of your eyes, but she was quick and it was over before you knew it. You took a deep breath and held it as her hands approached your face; she very gently palpated the areas below your eyes, heading back towards your nose. She finished up and gave you an approving look as you slowly let out your breath and steadied yourself, before she grabbed a larger style of tricorder and ran it over your face. She let out a small tutting noise and you cringed as you feared the worst, but she smiled at you as she set the tricorder down.

“You just have a very small fracture, Mija,” Dr. Medina said, putting a reassuring hand on your forearm. “I can fix that with the osteo-regenerator in just a few minutes.” You let out a sigh of relief at this pronouncement, grateful that it would be an easy fix.

“Will the pain go away once it’s mended?” You asked, watching her as she opened a drawer and retrieved the instrument.

“Not immediately, but it should start to fade pretty quickly after that,” she told you, adjusting the settings on the regenerator. “And I’ll give you some pain medication to help.” You smiled thankfully and lay down when she gestured to do so, centering the small pillow under your head. You closed your eyes as she began to run the instrument over your nose and cheekbones, wincing slightly at the uncomfortably warm feeling it produced.

“So, I heard that our Leonard did this,” the doctor commented after a moment of silence, and you could hear the amusement in her voice. You held back a combined laugh and sigh; clearly Christine was already telling everyone.

“Yeah,” you said as she withdrew the device, finished with the mending process. She urged you to stay lying down as you made to sit up, so you lay still. “It was Leonard. It was an accident though, he was being a little too animated with his hands and not paying attention and I got in the way.”

The doctor made another little tutting noise and looked down at you with a twinkle in her eyes as she spoke again.

“Would you like me to have a sit-down with him? We could have a nice long chat about not harming others.” You were pretty sure she was joking, but just in case, you shook your head, eyes widening slightly.

“No, no, he already feels really bad, that’s okay,” you said hastily, and the doctor smiled at you again.

“Alright, Mija, I’ll let him off this time. But you just let me know if you see him behaving badly again,” Dr. Medina said in a conspiratorial voice with a wink, and you laughed, nodding.

“I promise,” you agreed, smiling.

“I sent a pain killer prescription to your PADD, go get it filled and go back to your room to rest for the rest of the night. You should be okay to return to classes tomorrow, but if you’re feeling like you can’t handle it, please come back and I will absolutely give you a note.” The doctor smiled warmly at you and you nodded again, very appreciative of her offer, though hoping you wouldn’t have to use it.

“Thank you so much,” you said as you slipped off the table and gently felt your nose. It was still extremely tender, but it didn’t sear with pain the moment you touched it anymore, either.

“Get some rest, dear,” she said, patting you on the arm again before leaving the room.

You headed out of the room, intent on talking to Chris again for a minute, but you could see she was with a patient. You toyed with the idea of waiting, but you really just wanted to crawl into bed, so you hurry off to the small pharmacy next to the clinic, get your prescription and head back to your room, replacing the sunglasses on your face to avoid questions (though some people still looked at you funny).

You popped two of the pills as instructed and collapsed on your couch, flipping open your comm and noticing that you’d missed quite a few messages from friends, some of whom had already found out about the incident. You dashed off messages to most of them and then sat there, feeling a little floaty as the meds kicked in, the pain fading almost entirely and leaving your face feeling mostly normal for the first time in hours. You had almost fallen asleep when your comm buzzed and you glanced down at it to see that Leonard was messaging you.

How are you doing? Did you end up going to the med centre? If there’s anything I can do to help you out, please let me know. I’m really sorry, again.

You smiled at the message, feeling a far warmer towards Leonard now than you had in the shock and pain of the moment. You thought about what you wanted to say for a moment, then replied:

I’m okay. Yeah, I went to the med centre. They gave me pain meds. I had a small fracture but the doctor fixed it really easily. I feel way better now that I took the meds. Don’t be sorry, I know it was an accident. Thank you for taking care of me after it happened.

You considered warning him that he might get an earful and some teasing next time he had a shift, but you decided to let him find that you for himself, chuckling at the thought. You were starting to feel really sleepy so you grudgingly hauled yourself off the couch and got ready for bed, looking at your comm again once you were lying down, snug in your blankets.

I’m glad you got it fixed. Don’t thank me, it was the least I could do after I caused the damn injury in the first place. I hope you feel better tomorrow. See you in class?

You tried to text him back, but you had become so drowsy that the comm slipped out of your hand as you drifted into sleep.

The next morning, you woke up just before your alarm would have gone off, which was lucky, because in the unusual events of the previous day, you’d forgotten to set it. You groaned at the dull pounding ache in your head and pulled yourself out of bed, stopping only to pop two more of the pain pills before dragging yourself to the bathroom. You stopped short and stared in horror at your reflection as you approached the mirror, closing your eyes for a moment and then looking again. It was as you’d feared; you had two big shiners, a mottled dark purple and blue, around both of your eyes. Groaning, you leaned closer to the mirror and touched the bruising gently, wondering if you’d be able to cover them with makeup, but you weren’t keen on slathering that much foundation right around your eyes. Sighing, you resigned yourself to a day full of stares and questions about what had happened, and got yourself ready to go.

Twenty minutes or so before your first lecture was due to start, there was a knock on your door. Your head popped out from the tank top you were pulling over your head and you frowned, wondering who it was.

“Just a minute!” you called, tucking in your tank and pulling on your jacket. Since you were ready to go anyway, you grabbed your backpack, shouldered it and decided to head out instead of letting whoever it was in. You opened the door to see Leonard standing there, holding a small paper bag and looking a bit worried. His eyes widened when his gaze settled on your face, and you could see a strong flash of guilt in his eyes.

“It’s fine, it looks worse than it is,” you said hurriedly, trying to cut him off before he could start apologizing again. “It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as before, I just look like a raccoon,” you said ruefully, letting out a small laugh.

“I’m so—” he began, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“Leonard you’ve apologized plenty, I know it was an accident.” You paused, remembering how you’d muttered at him on the way back to the dorms. “I’m sorry about what I said. About not doing harm. That was uncalled for.” Leonard shrugged, and you could see that he still looked guilty, but he refrained from apologizing again. There was a bit of awkward silence as you stepped out of your room and the door closed behind you. After a moment, he held up the paper bag he was carrying, then held it out to you.

“I brought you breakfast. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a chocolate chip muffin and a carrot muffin.”

You took the bag from him and peered inside, feeling your stomach rumble as the wonderful scent of the two muffins filled your nose.

“Mmm, they smell so good. Thank you,” you said, smiling at him. He seemed relieved that you hadn’t rejected his offering, and you felt a bit of the tension in the air ease.

“Shall we head to class?” he asked, gesturing in the direction of the exit to the dorm building. You nod and walk with him, sighing inwardly as, before you could even get down the entire hallway, someone had already spotted you and asked what happened. You explained as quickly as you could, with Leonard shifting guiltily beside you, and then you moved on. It happened again at the entrance to the dorm building, just as you were leaving.

Thrice, outside, people stopped you and asked in horror what had happened. You were starting to get tired of explaining and eager to get to class, so you and Leonard picked up the pace a little, trying to avoid more inquiries.

“Oh my god, what happened?” Another voice rang out as you stepped through the entrance to your lecture’s building and you sighed, closing your eyes slightly as you wonder if this was going to happen every few minutes literally all day long.

“He punched me,” you said jokingly this time, gesturing at Leonard, much to your friend’s shock and Leonard’s dismay. You hastily explained that you were joking and tell her what really happened, then move on.

“We’re gonna be late for class at this rate,” Leonard said, and you could hear a note of grumpiness in his voice. You agreed, though; there was only five minutes until your lecture and you still had a still had a flight of stairs and hallway to get down. You hurry up the stairs with Leonard immediately behind you and power-walk down the hallway, trying to avoid people’s eyes and keenly aware that nearly everyone passing you in the opposite direction was staring.

“What happened?!”

You groan as, just feet from your classroom door, another friend catches sight of you.

“He did it,” you said, pointing at Leonard before grinning and hurrying the last few steps into the class. Leonard didn’t come into the classroom until you had already sat down and taken out your PADD, and he looked grumpier than ever as he sat down heavily in his seat.

“Can you please not imply that I did it on purpose?” Leonard grumbled at you, and you turned around to grin at him.

“Oh come on, can’t I have a little bit of fun?” You asked innocently, and he shot you a dark look. “You asked if there was anything you could do to help; allowing me to laugh about it helps.”

“How about instead of destroying my reputation, I make it up to you some other way?” You put on a thoughtful expression, then gesture at him to go on. “How about dinner on Friday night? We could try that new place that just opened up nearby.”

You stare at him for a moment, surprised by the sudden change of events. You hadn’t expected him to ask you out, but it certainly wasn’t an unappealing offer. You smiled after a moment, and nodded a little.

“I think I’d like that,” you said softly, dropping the gently mocking tone you’d used before. “Agreed.”

Leonard was about to say something else, a small smile coming over his face, when the professor began to speak, calling the class to order. You swivelled around in your chair to face the front, glancing down at your PADD as a message window popped up a moment later.

Does 7pm on Friday work for you?

You smiled and typed an affirmative message, then you just couldn’t resist adding one more thing, as you thought about why all this had happened in the first place.

Sounds good. And by the way, Leonard – I got a perfect score on that midterm; I could help you study, if you’d like. ;)

A moment later you heard a little grunt of what sounded like both annoyance and laughter from behind you and you grinned as you began taking notes for the class, thinking about how it was nice that even though your nose had been broken and your face had felt like it was on fire, something good had definitely come out of it all.

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