#the book itself is okay but the arguments i had with people siding with the kidnapper

[screenviolense]

watching a movie that is giving me flashbacks to the worst experience i've ever had with assigned reading

[denimbex1986]

A little bit over a week ago, Netflix released their adaptation of David Nicholl’s book One Day. As a fan of the novel and the panned 2011 film, I knew what to expect from the story of Emma Morley and Dexter Mayhew, which One Day follows over the course of eighteen years. While it might come as a surprise to the critics, the film adaptation had the potential to make me weep back in the day. Alas: when I watched Netflix’s rendition, the tears didn’t come. There were a few, but they weren’t the guttural sobs that I’d expected. I had the same experience with All of Us Strangers and The Iron Claw too. But scroll X or TikTok, and you’ll find that it’s quite the opposite for most viewers of these sad-centric media, with people describing themselves as “traumatised for life” and “choking on [their] own tears” in response to One Day alone. Was it a ‘me’ problem? Or is it that misery porn is at such a saturation point that I simply can’t withstand anymore?

“The way the iron claw broke me is insane [sic] definitely ugly crying at the moment, ” reads a tweet about A24’s flick on the Von Erich brothers. “I’m dead inside” reads one in response to Andrew Haigh’s All of Us Strangers. It’s safe to say that misery porn not only has the desired effect, but that people gobble that up. There’s no better illustration of that than the sheer amount of it. As well as those mentioned, last year saw a renewed interest in Hanya Yanagihara’s novel A Little Life, and recently we’ve been blessed (or cursed) with films like The Whale, Past Lives, and Close. While Hollywood execs aren’t going to slap it on their films anytime soon, misery porn is now almost a genre in itself...

And all of this comes at a time when we’re not only recognising our society-wide penchant for “yearning”, but wondering what it is exactly that we’re yearning for. Happiness would be an obvious answer to that question if it weren’t for the popularity of films like The Iron Claw and All of Us Strangers. With them in mind, it seems what we’re looking for is the experience of feelings, no matter how positive, negative, or how extreme. Given we’re all a bit numb – big chunks of our existence being mediated by phones and computer screens – that makes sense.

Essentially, we’re at a kind of crossroads with the genre. Still, what is it about the people, like myself, that don’t get a kick out of misery porn anymore? Some say that not crying at films makes you a bit of a weirdo. Some say it means you’re depressed. I’d hazard a guess that it’s down to the fact that, as I get older, I’m increasingly aware of the fantasy element of what I’m viewing. In this sense, you could argue that misery porn capitalises on a vulnerable audience that has something of a sell-by date...

But the idea that misery porn finds an audience unified by their shared vulnerability does tap into something important: that there’s ethical considerations that come with the genre. It’s a rhetoric that all the chatter around A Little Life comes to time and time again. Namely, is it okay to use trauma as entertainment? Or is it veering on the voyeuristic side of things? It’s a hard line of argument to pursue – you start getting bogged down with whether anyone can tell someone else if their art is appropriate – but it’s arguable that there’s a time and a place for misery porn. A landmark work of the genre, for example, might be something like Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. That feels off the table in terms of its supposed “value” as misery porn, because it was so seminal in exploring women’s mental health. The same might go for something like Ava Duvernay’s limited series When They See Us, which dramatised the events surrounding the central park five. It’s horrible to watch, but we need to see that.

Beyond that – and this is most definitely a ‘me’ problem – there’s something annoying about the inherent competitiveness of misery porn. The hordes of tweets with suicidal ideation and increasingly obscure clips… They’re grating. As it is when someone obnoxiously sniffs during the final moments of The Iron Claw. That’s no-one’s fault, per say. Directors like Andrew Haigh don’t set out to have their work diluted into a clip from Fleabag and the girl loudly weeping in the cinema is probably just responding to the Letterbox-ification of cinema in a broader sense. You haven’t watched a film unless it’s been recorded on an app, given an arbitrary rating… And sobbed because of it.

Where does all of this leave us? One thing’s for sure, and that’s that I don’t think we’ll see the back of misery porn anytime soon. That’s okay, though. These conversations are a testament to the fact that we’re increasingly conscious of who’s benefiting from the exploration of these hard-to-swallow subjects. With that, we might usher in audiences that find value outside the things that pluck at their heartstrings. While their online reception obscures it, there’s so much radical loveliness in films like The Iron Claw and a TV series like One Day. Both, in fact, are unified by their endeavour to represent the afterlife, which I’d argue is worth more merit than how much they make you cry...'

[nicolefenton]

Starting small

About a year ago, I was catching up with my friend Timothy Sanders. He writes short stories and had just been featured in VICE, so I wanted to congratulate him. His book is brilliant and his tweets are hilarious. I’m all-adverbs-out proud to know him.

I told Tim how excited I was. He thanked me and asked, “Have you started your book?”

“No,” I laughed. I was a few months into a new job and full of excuses. I didn’t mention them, but they had me surrounded.

I couldn’t decide what to write about.

My commute was tiring me out.

I was in the middle of a breakup.

I had just started a side project.

I hadn’t been sleeping or eating very well.

Weekends were reserved for relaxing and reading.

I could barely keep my exercise routine going.

I told Tim: “I have a few ideas, but the voice in my head keeps saying, ‘Who fucking cares?’”

He shot back, “I care! Also, I think I learned from you that all writing is a failure… like no matter how ‘good’ it is you could always make it better.” I used to be his editor. I don’t remember saying that, but it’s true.

Tim had found a way to get started and to finish. His book was resting on my shelf. I was wasting time asking myself, “What have I done that’s worthwhile?” But despite what I thought, Tim was grateful for my help. That shook me up in a good way.

On January 17 of this year, I wrote an outline. It took me 20 minutes to write. It took me 29 years to be able to write it.

Between the bones of that basic skeleton is the meat of my life. Notes. Questions. Journal entries. Arguments with myself. Conversations with friends. Things I learned while working with Tim. Things I’m still confused about. Years of practicing patience. So many fights and so many feelings.

I cleaned up the outline and decided to get my act together. I shared it with a few friends. I’m still working on it. All the while, I keep asking myself, “What am I doing? What do I have to say to anyone about anything?”

That voice — that ridiculous, antagonistic voice — is the same voice I help clients and colleagues through each day. We all have that nagging, second-guessing, self-editing, joy-stopping, sad-hearted weasel squirming around inside. Fuck that voice.

There are so many days when “the work” is remembering you can do the work. You have to start small. It’s okay, just get the facts down. Say what you know, one word at a time. Take a walk when your chest gets too tight. Be around people who make you happy to be alive. And when you sit down to work and that voice starts shrieking, give it a moment to wear itself out — and then do the work anyway.

[nyx-b-log]

Wrath of Persephone by A. P. Mobley - Review

thanks to @gabrielleragusi for the arc! check this awesome cover she did!

read: oct 2022

rating: 3 stars

summary:

a retelling of the tale of persephone, focusing on the darker aspects of the story and linking in to the wider universe of the war on the gods by the same author.

opinion:

okay, upfront, i have not read any other work by this author. i suspect that would have been helpful when characters from that series got a brief mention, but this is also a standalone and pretty much self-contained.

i would also highly recommend checking out the content warnings, given that this is a retelling of persephone. i'll put them (verbatim from the book itself) under the cut.

the book is fine? honestly i feel a little old for this. i like the concept, of what if persephone had suffered more, had not had a support network, had grown into her new name, etc. i want that story!

i just feel like i would have enjoyed this more if i was in my teens.

the characters feel somewhat childish, no matter their age, tho i think that might be the YA style creeping through rather than anything else. even after the long time skip, no one really feels any different, despite the fact that they were very much "youths" at the beginning.

some of the writing is also a bit off, with the most persistent example being a lily being described as a bauble? which i get, it became a hair decoration, but it was a strange word choice to me? especially to consistently use for a flower, even after the flower changes into some jewellery. minor personal preference issue? yeah, probably, but it still took me out of the scene and made persephone seem like she was being more dismissive of something she supposedly loved than i think she was supposed to be.

some of my lack of enjoyment may be that this story just wasn't for me. i'm the kind of person who looks out for the best in people, rather than the worst, and i struggled to find the logic in *all* the gods being so dismissive and oblivious of persephone. (there's a zeus tyrant argument to be made here, but i think i would need more context to be comfortable pinning their actions on that.)

to be clear, persephone is an interesting character, and i enjoyed seeing her dynamic with demeter, and the change from her doe-eyed younger self to her bitter, traumatised older one was interesting.

i just...

ultimately it's a story about powerlessness and what that can do to a person, and maybe i simply wasn't in the right place for that.

i'm open to reading the first book of the series, to see if that sheds more light on the characters who appear here and where persephone ends up.

if you love greek myth and are in the market for a nice short read, give it a try. if you're not sure, check out the content warnings below.

(copied from the author's note in the start of the book. bolded words are my own addition)

In my interpretation of Persephone’s story, she is not a willing participant in her abduction and consequent marriage. However, while I show her kidnapping, the assault that follows is only alluded to.

Furthermore, “Wrath of Persephone” includes violence, abuse, victim blaming, infidelity, rude language, themes of hopelessness and of one’s agency being stolen, and a plot where the titular character falls to the “dark side” because of her hate for those who have hurt her. If you are sensitive to any of this type of content, please keep that in mind before reading on, because I would never want to hurt or upset anyone with my writing.

[thegettingbyp2]

Hi can I please request a chris evans imagine we had a fight but we make up

I Hate This

You sat on the floor of the living room in the house you shared with your boyfriend Chris, silent tears streaming down your face. You both had had a massive argument which had left you crying on the floor and Chris leaving to cool off, taking Dodger for a walk.

‘I just don’t get why you can’t take just a couple of days off! This is the big premiere!’

‘Chris, you know I can’t! I’ve just taken three weeks off and if I ask for another two they’ll fire me! You of all people should know how this works!’

‘I do, baby, believe me, I do and you’re incredible at your job. I just really want you to be with me for this, this will be the first time you’re not at one of my premieres!’

‘How many times do I have to say this?! I can’t take any more time off, please don’t make me out to be the bad guy!’

‘Of course not, because I’m always the bad guy right.’

Tears were streaming down your face as you watched Chris walk around the house, grabbing his shoes, a jacket and Dodger’s lead when he said he was going to take him for a walk to cool down.

‘I’ll be back later and we can talk about this when we’ve both calmed down okay?’

You nodded and Chris was out the door, leaving you in the house on your own.

You got up from the floor, wiped your eyes and busied yourself with tidying up the various books, scripts and dog toys that were scattered around in the living room. Once you had finished and noticed that Chris hadn’t come home yet, you wandered into the kitchen to make yourself a coffee before heading back into the living room, sitting on the sofa and turning your TV on. Seeing that The Winter Soldier was being shown on one of the channels, you clicked on it and settled down to watch it, falling asleep quickly.

---

‘Hey sweetheart,’ a voice called close to your ear and you felt a hand resting gently on the side of your head. You opened your eyes to see your boyfriend looking at you sadly, ‘you okay?’

Nodding you sat back up, stretching and rubbing at your eyes, your body waking itself up realising that Chris was home. ‘How long was I asleep for?’

‘Not too long I don’t think, we got back about ten minutes ago. I want to apologise, I just,’

‘No I need to apologise,’ you said, cutting him off, ‘I should have thought about it and booked the time off to come with you this time instead of last time, this time’s more important so I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t need to apologise at all beautiful,’ Chris said, voice soft, ‘I’ve been on Broadway so I know it’s not easy to get time off, I was just upset you weren’t going to be with me for this premiere I let it get the better of me. And as far as you saying you should have booked different dates off, that wouldn’t have mattered in the slightest because I want you with me every time.’

Chris leaned up, still kneeling on the floor and pressed his forehead against yours gently, ‘I hate this,’ he whispered, ‘I hate fighting with you.’

‘I hate it too,’ you whispered back, pecking his lips quickly, giggling when you felt his beard tickle your face. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too sweetheart.’

[sukunasun]

sorry but nanami in ur ivy league bf geto …. please..i want him so bad. im going to think about this until i die

please...save yourself...those little nanami crumbs have all of you in a chokehold...ever since i posted ivy league geto all everyone wants Dr. Kento, N. Ph.D. i didn't think he'd get this much attention it was only a few paragraphs too omg...

and you know what, i bet he'd be so smug about it too...he's sitting comfy somewhere in a leather chair sipping tea knowing he's hot shit. "just call me nanami," he'll say despite having multiple doctorates—even with that too, he'd think it wasn't a big deal, "it's not necessary to have so many qualifications, i just happen to be a man dedicated to research and knowledge...as hesiod said, moderation is best in all things.." humble bragger that he is. wouldn't walk around with a high nose, he doesn't try to win every argument like geto nor does he rub it in people's faces the way gojo does, but he'd definitely correct someone when given the chance. and they can't bring this guy anywhere, gojo takes him out to a club and nanami has brought a book to read. geto can't stop laughing because the stripper asks if she could take a peek at it, batting her eyelashes, pushing her tits up just a little and he's like "sorry, but you're not permitted to, this is for staff only." with the most monotone voice.

he isn't invited to dinner parties either because he ruins trivia night by correcting the game itself. "the great wall of china isn't actually visible from space," he says, and he's always winning these things by 100 points more than anyone else.

and let me just say that he isn't going to be your perfect professor who's so charming and attractive and smart and dreamy, that's what everyone thinks until they actually meet him and learn that nothing gets pass this man, he's so straight-laced he's borderline repressed, "oh can i do anything for extra credit?" they say, trying to be seductive, trying to be sexy and it doesn't phase him. he just thinks they're willing to do more work so he sends them off to do more things, write more essays, take more tests, do more research, do a side project, and they have to say bye to whatever little bit of social life they had left. (but kudos to him because he hates group projects as much as his students, and he won't care about ratemyprofessor reviews because all of them, all of them, are either horny, hateful, or asking for a fight, yuuji leaves the sweetest words of pure joy and gratefulness—'one time he let us play kahoot for a whole hour because he had a hangover and he let me move his slides for him during a talk. i love you nanami sensei! <3' and nanami doesn't even know about it)

yuuji likes him so much and this kid is able to see the good in everyone, which is also why nanami is able to really help him out when he needs to, "you're getting distracted during your explanations, elaborate but don't overdo it, you're meant to bring focus back to your proposed statement." when was the last time someone actually found his critiques and feedback worth something.

and he's awkward okay? he's spent years studying and he always just had a little bit of trouble making friends, like geto and gojo were there because the three of them share the burden of being the smartest, being gifted, gojo's a prodigy and geto's family have a history of being philanthropists, they have been in and out of college before turning twenty and nanami never had the time for a romantic relationship, his only wingmen are the Worst at picking up women, how is he meant to flirt with anyone, and you think he doesn't care? man cares too much! he listens to meet me at our spot on repeat after bad dates because he thinks he's going to be alone forever, spins around his office in the dark as he finishes all that expensive whiskey, and everyone knows that he's been dumped because he stuffs his face full of bread and carbs everytime it happens.

ugh he wants a family so bad, he's so sick of the same old routine and he just wants a break from all of it. can't stand going home to the same old empty apartment, empty bed, empty fridge. he wants a hot meal and a cheery voice greeting him the moment he steps past the threshold, a gorgeous woman who would massage his aching shoulders, let him pick at her insightful brain, and sleep in with him on the weekends. "i became a husband," he replies when asked what he's most proud of and it makes your heart swell, he surprises you like this all the time, he blows your mind because you don't expect it, you wouldn't think he'd adore you the way he does, something so...selfish? just wants you to himself, won't have you visiting his office because he will eat you right up on his desk. it's always the introverted ones, the quiet ones, but nanami is a whole other type of his own. the kind that whispers the dirtiest, filthy things in your ear before he eats you out like he's been craving for it his entire life, hungry and sloppy, his tongue inches deeper and deeper. "i won't fuck you until you've cum three times", he doesn't know when to stop because all he feels is that he should keep going, do a good job, prove to you that he's so capable, that he's more than just his academic accomplishments, he wants to be seen as a man, as a partner.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Jin Zixuan knows what he wants, and that’s to be the next pretty but useless Madam Jiang. All that he has to is 1) pass his title of heir to his new brother, 2) convince JYL to fall back in love with him, 3) not embarrass himself. Three easy enough goals, right? -🙃

ao3

Untamed

Jin Zixuan was almost – almost – not surprised to open his eyes and find himself sixteen again.

Instead of, you know, dead.

Honestly, it just seemed like the perfect capstone of his life of happenstance: born an idiot, raised an idiot, continued to be an idiot, realized he was an idiot, remained an idiot but a better class thereof, and somehow despite all that managed to hit the jackpot of luck not only once but twice – the first in being born in the right womb, the second in convincing Jiang Yanli to give him a second chance despite the aforementioned unbroken streak of lifelong idiocy.

Possibly because of. She thought he was cute.

Anyway, as if to make him pay up for that amazing streak of luck, just when he’d finally achieved all the things he’d ever actually wanted – a wife that loved him and who he loved in return and a son to dote upon – he had, for the first time in his life, grown up and decided to not be a complete idiot…only to immediately die.

Being reborn seemed pretty much part and parcel with the whole stupid tragedy.

Not that he regretted inviting Wei Wuxian to come visit. That’d been the right thing to do, and Jiang Yanli had been so happy – it hadn't even been his fault; it had been Jin Zixun’s ambush that had ruined it all, really. Jin Zixuan wasn’t even entirely sure what it was that had actually killed him, whether it was a stray arrow or a misplaced sword or even the Ghost General gone berserk, but he was sure that if his stupid cousin hadn’t decided to attack, Wei Wuxian would have come and left in peace.

If he hadn’t rushed out by himself to try to fix things, to make sure the one thing he’d ever managed to do right by Jiang Yanli worked out well, then maybe he wouldn’t have ended up leaving her and Jin Ling behind.

Alone.

In Lanling City.

He shuddered even to think it.

Jin Zixuan knew that there were people who loved their sects – passionately, devotedly. Jiang Cheng had been one of them, defying death itself to resurrect the Jiang sect in his parents’ honor and reestablishing it as one of the Great Sects. And then there was Lan Xichen, the steadfast and honorable, who had sacrificed everything, even honor, to make sure his sect’s books survived what they had feared would be the end. And all this was to say nothing of Nie Mingjue, who had come to power painfully young and had played the game of politics that he so despised in order to stay the course, to avenge his father and keep his sect strong…

Jin Zixuan did not love his sect.

He did not love his city, he did not love his people. He had wondered if it was a failing in himself, but then looked at the rest of his family and realized it was just his blood running true. Lanling Jin had a soul of rot and a heart of stone, each one of them careless and indifferent in their own way – his father couldn’t give a damn about his sect except in the sense that it aided his personal power, his mother the authority it gave her whether through her husband or her son, his cousins the impunity they could derive from it…

Jin Zixuan had told Jiang Yanli about it when she agreed to marry him, worried that she'd change her mind when she learned the truth but even more worried that she'd wake up one day to find herself trapped and disappointed in him. But she was as ever the luckiest thing that had ever happened in his life: she’d said that she would be fine because she had him by her side, and he would be fine because he had her, and they would balance. He’d accepted that argument – and then, of course, he’d gone and died, like the idiot that he was.

And yet, somehow, he’d been reborn, granting him another chance to change his fate, and this time, this time, he wasn’t going to deceive himself.

After all, it seemed pretty clear from his last life that he was never going to not be an idiot, and that fate wasn’t too happy about him trying to stick his nose into politics or major events.

This time around, he wasn’t going to struggle against his destiny – Jin Zixuan was going to accept it.

He was going to be absolutely useless.

He sat up in his bed, observing that he was in the Cloud Recesses, and that his eye hurt; it must be not long after his fight with Wei Wuxian, which meant his engagement was broken. He’d have to win Jiang Yanli again – still, he’d somehow managed it last time around, so that wasn’t what he was worried about.

No, the main problem was definitely how he was going to manage the whole “be useless” part of his ambitions – and for that, he needed the advice of an expert.

“Nie-er-gongzi, can I ask you for some advice?” he asked.

Nie Huaisang blinked blearily at him. “Jin-gongzi? It’s the middle of the night.”

“It’s important,” Jin Zixuan said apologetically. “It’s something that only you can help me with.”

“…me?”

“Yes, you. I need to learn how to be a good-for-nothing.” Jin Zixuan thought about it. “Also, I need to get in contact with Meng Yao. He’s at the Unclean Realm now, right? Someone needs to inherit Lanling Jin, might as well be him.”

Nie Huaisang blinked owlishly at him.

“…okay.” He pulled open the door. “I think you’d better come inside.”

[secretbangtnn]

Best Of Me| Two

Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader

Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals

summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

previous | next

notes ~ I did it!!! Omg im so happy I finished it, hopefully the next one are going to come sooner. The first chapters are going to be with a baby oc - im sorry if its boring, but after it we can start with the real plot, the things are gonna get dark. Hope that you will like it, and remeber to give me some feedback - im whore for a comments and ask and beside they motivate me very much

taglist :

@missseoulite @gukkculture @silscintilla @the-falling-star @apollonshootafar @mwitsmejk @lovinggalaxies @b-e-t-x-s-o @jisoosbitch @ariverflowsonthemoon @maboiisuga @peachescream1723 @sichajeon

Cries everywhere. Sobbing so loud that all the birds disappeared from their little birdhouse outside the window. And as funny the view was, a big ball of stress and nerves started collecting itself in the rather calm manor. Reason of all this mess was just one, so easy to notice.

“Jungkook!” Just like a ball of nerves now the big ball of dirty blankets and clothes hit the young vampire, making him stumble a little. Obvious disgust on his face with a piece of distaste on his tongue which just a second ago had been caused by the same thing he now fisted in his hands.

“You didn’t have to throw it at me!” Barked Jungkook staring at the broad shoulders of his oldest brother. Child now a little calmer, however still sobbing slightly, keeping the atmosphere at bay.

“You have brung the kid so you will hold the things he made. Be happy that I'm not forcing you to change the diaper instead.”

Disgust on all of their faces is now being something normal, having kids in the same room as them, definitely does not go well with hundred years old vampires. The only one without a gag reflex seems to be Seokjin, acting like a pro mother, just after her 3rd pregnancy with the next on the road. However all of them agreed with the statement that it was all but Jungkook's fault, which came with consequences for said boy.

Thus now sitting on the couch, five of the ramaing vampires, looked with a bored expression at the panicked and nearly vomiting jungkook. Youngest of them always had a soft stomach, never being the one to clean after disasters, forcing people to basically clean after him, and maybe that's why all of them felt such a satisfaction upon them while staring at the shitty situation.

Literally shitty.

Stumbling a little from the intense smell, Jungkook started to try getting rid of the used diaper in his hands, holding it with his fingers dingling it as far from his face as he could. Maybe the smelly object was not the only thing that should be named like a feces, knowing that a person who should just throw the diaper away, purposefully walked closer than intended to a couch with older vampires, stumbling not that accidentally and making the thing in his hand fly straight to a lap of a reading Namjoon.

A moment of silence, only lasting for a short second. Namjoon was never the one to shout or get mad, rather prefering to act calm and well put together, believing in a peace making and solutions not requiring usage of violence but when the heavy baggage on his lap suddenly started to warm his lap, he completely crushed his persona as well as book in his hands.

“Ups...hehe.” Jungkook laughed awkwardly, knowing well his fate. Doe eyes looked at the tall man, standing a little farther than him, just behind the couch. Jaw tightened so were the hands, keeping the last strings of calmness that were floating on very dangerous water.

“Listen, before you actually do something think of the time when you destroyed my ps4 and

I did not even complain.” Hands just before him similar to the way you would to with a wild animal, and in Jungkook's opinion, it was not that far from the truth, observing how Namjoons jaws nearly crushed from the tension.

“Okay okay, we all need to calm down, It was just an accident.” Cut in red head, standing in the middle of the war zone. It was stupid idea, definetly not the brightes of the sunny vampire, even if it came from the good intentions. Hoseok, just like an innocent child that got stuck in a big people argument, was the one that got hurt in the end.

And everybody knew that when Hoseok gets mad it's the extremity that anyone in this room is scared to experience once again. There is silent agreement between the rest of the brothers that was made after one of Hoseok's outburst, promising that no matter what the devil can’t come out.

The apple of discord laying now upon redhead’s feet, innocent like a little kitten that just waits to be petted, but in this case it wasn neither a fluffy ball of fur and definitely not something that should be touched.

Silence so loud, banging in their ears with an uneven breath. Second after second, rest that were not included in the middle, counted sitting on their heels with nerve wracking feelings.They stared as Hoseok’s shoulders rose and went down with each puff of air from his flared nostrils, neither of them dared to move, preferring to stay in a safe zone.

Just as red headed one wanted to take his first kill, a loud laugh echoed in a room, coming from a little child in Seokjin's arms, that probably just came back from being cleaned up. A fresh smile on its face, eyes sparkly looking straight at the scene.

“What are you doing, idiots?” Asked Seokjin, a visible vein on his forehead, sticking out under his free hand that now pinched a bridge of his nose. His eyes catching a glimpse of the used diaper, right on his favorite carpet. “You had one thing to do, one thing Jungkook.”

“It was an accident I swear on my ps4!” He tried explaining, shaking his arms. Seokjin saw to much lived too long to believe it, everybody knew it but even than they acted like bunch of idiots when something like this happen.

“Namjoon destroyed it, you said it yourself.” Spoke Jimin, sitting on a couch with a happy smile, pleased with himself. Younger's head immediately halted in his way, a look of betrayal on his face.

“You midge…”

“I don’t care, just clean it up, in the meantime me with the little snack are going to cook something, right my little cutie?” Cuted the older while caressing the child in his arms, turning his voice in a baby one. And just like this the scene came to the same point, the only difference was that neither Namjoon or Hoseok were in the room, probably running away as fast as Sekojins came.

Jungkook sighed, squatting down to take care of the said thing. Again the disgust and a feeling of nausea hitted him with a side giggles of his blonde haired brother.

Going into the kitchen he spotted the child that looked at him as soon as he appeared. Little smile and sweet laugh, making him soft and mushy for a while.

“I hope you know that you gave us a big problem with bringing a human child there.” Seokjin spoke, not looking from a cutting board, himself to immersed in said action

Jungkook knew, earlier thinking of it like a mere action, something that they can get rid of as fast as a lollipop wrapper. But it was not, and now looking at the kid, he realized how his careless behaviour could weigh down not only on his family but the whole society of vampires.

“I’m-”

“Don’t just apologize, we need to take care of it as fast as we can, in the meantime doing everything to not harm it. If someone finds out it’s going to be a bigger problem, probably even straining the relationship with human - and that’s something we do not want.” Cuted older, in the end turning around pointing the sharp knife on Jungkook.

It was true, the delicate stattlement between those two societies is still new, fresh and hot, ready to burn anyone's fingers, anyones who is to carless. The today is a better world, something that all of the brothers know, remembering dark times - some of them being not older than mere hatchling then. World was a dangerous place to live in, vampires hunting humans, humans hunting vampires, a competition that never got settled, and they hope it never will.

“Try feeding it and come to the living room after you are done. We will discuss the next actions - good luck.” A little wink at the end, Seokjin wiped his hands off on the way patting the younger's back, harder than normally.

“Wait what?! You are not being serious right now, right?” Asked confused Jungkook, fastly turning around to an already disappearing figure. Cold sweat on his body as he looked at the smooth face of the older, that defended a flying kiss to his shocked self. “Why can’t you do it?”

“I can. But the human seems to take a liking to you.” And how absurd it sounded, the baby really looked at Jungkook like some god, sparkly eyes always following his bigger figure.

“Seokjin! Don’t leave me please, I can’t do it.”He whined, looking for the said man, to his luck he was nowhere to be found. It was going to be alright - he tried to believe in those words now clutching baby spoon, that he was sure they did not have, and a mashed food, looking more like dog food than actual meal.

His Eyes staring right into the sparkly and to obnoxious happy, making him even more irritated. In the end, Jungkook hated little children, being and acting like one himself

Little hands stretching towards him with a toothless smile on the side, getting bigger as Jungkook came closer. That was it, taking a big breath he come to the other side of the table - almost touching the stool where the human sat. Ready and determined to get the task done, treating it similar to a quest in the game, he took the little spoon with some of the smashed food, and started to get closer to the child's mouth.

And as the brothers again started to live their normal life, thinking that at least for now, everything is settled, a very obvious squeal shook the while house.

“HYUNG!...IT WANTS TO TOUCH ME! GET IT AWAY, GET IT AWAY!”

___

All of them now sitting on the couches and armchairs, taking nearly all of the space. Some of the observing the crawling baby with prominent couriousty some of them with disgust even fear, not knowing what future the baby will bring.

Namjoon although feeling the little distaste, knew or better had a plan with what to do.

Smile on his lips not reaching his eyes, however stumbling on the way of eye contact with some of his brothers.

“Okay so, definitely we need to do something with...this.” Said Jimin, look on his face full of distress and disgust resting on the child, that as if it knew of Jimin’s attention looked back full of giggles and reaching hands.

“That is obvious, we can’t keep human child.” Barked Yoongi, the one which rather prefered to stay quiet in those metters.

“Jungkook should take care of it, It’s not my fault he is to stupid to not question a left human on a doorstep.” Smug smile now on Jimin's face, as he gave the side glance to the said male, happy with triggering the younger temper.

“As If you woul…”

“Okay we get it Jimin, it was Jungkook's fault, but still it can affect us all, so try to be at least a little bit helpful or shut up” Interrupted Seokjin staring at both of them in turn. The oldest obviously tired of all of the drama, massaging his scalp, to relieve the tension a little. “Let's start one by one, any ideas?”

Silence, a loud silence throwing the tension to the already burning fire. Seokjin's vein once again appeared on his forehead, making Jungkook nearly knock from a terrifying sight of it. It was pulsating, green and bumpy.

“Maybe let’s put it back?” Asked the quiet voice, Sekojin ready to snap at the stupid idea thinking that some of the youngers don’t know limit of the unfunny jokes, only to find innocent eyes of Hoseok.

“That’s … well that is AN option, thank you Hoseok - keep it up. Any other ideas?” Seokjin’s hands molded into a thump, giving the tired smile to Hoseok, knowing of his still busing nerves.

“Why are we even trying so hard, throw it away i say.” Jimin mumbled while staring at the little child going his way, quickly putting his feet on the couch, scared of a chance of being touched by the human.

Tired sight left mouth of the olders, his vein fading a little - to Jungkook luck, and his hands now clenching his blonde lock. He was helpless, disappointed in his brother's ideas and intelligence. He was sure that, that was indeed an end, his family will be arrested for keeping human, and vampires are going to lose a peace they fighted for.

Everything because Jungkook wanted to take unfamiliar child to their house.

“What about the orphanage that opened like one month ago, can’t we just leave it there?” Cuted Namjoon, making everyone snap their head. Seokjin nearly crying, wanting to kiss his brother as much as choke him for his slow process of thinking.

“Couldn’t you say earlier?!

[peachtree-dish]

A Te Che Sei Il Mio Amore Grande

I'm writing fanfics again. Woot!

Inspired by the song of the same name.

Chapter One: Quando Ti Guardo

June 06, 1969

Luca drummed his fingers restlessly along the soft velvet of his armrest, his eyes switched from peering out at the Italian coastal terrain and once again reading the watch that rested against his wrist.

“You’re doing it again.”

His eyes snapped up to watch as Giulia sighed at him from behind the thick leather-bound novel in her hands. As her amused yet exasperated gaze landed on him, he grinned sheepishly.

“Mi dispiace, Giulia. I honestly don’t remember the ride being this long.” He checked his watch again and grimaced. “Has it really only been ten minutes?”

Admitting defeat, the red-headed girl marked her place and set the book aside. “Luca, it’s been nine months, si? But what is the one thing we’ve learned about time from Segnora Rosa?” She quirked a knowing brow at him as Luca slumped forward.

“Time is always constant, lo so.” He mumbled.

“Esattamente, therefore,” She continued as she picked up her book with renewed gusto, “the train will take exactly an hour every single time we travel to and from Porto Rosso.” With her argument settled, Giulia returned to her page and began reading once more. After a moment of stillness, she peered at him subtly from above her page. Luca was looking outside once more, his eyes filled with a mixture of yearning, and his mouth twisted in anxiety. With a kinder expression, she said, “If it’s any consolation, amico mio, I’m sure he’s just as nervous to see you.”

Luca puffed out his cheeks but didn’t reply, instead preferring to peer down at his clasped hands.

“Maybe you could finish the bracelets you’ve been working on, that will help you pass the time better and maybe keep your mind off things, eh?” She nodded to his school jacket pocket which held a mass of multicolored strings that had yet to be organized. Perking up at the thought, Luca agreed and set to work on detangling the threads from one another.

Outside the bright light of the morning sun blazed peacefully across the pristine indigo coastline and followed the two youths on the journey. Some miles away, a small town was anything but peaceful.

“Massimo!” A young man jumped up the paved stairways of Porto Rosso, disturbing the half-dozen pigeons resting there. At their indignant coos and squawks, Alberto quickly glanced back with a slight shout of “sorry!” before continuing on his rampage towards the Marcovaldo residence. Skidding to a stop once he passed the archway, he leaned heavily against the tree that he and Luca had slept in nearly a year ago prior and gasped.

With a large crash, both Massimo and Machiavelli burst through the front door looking frazzled and ready for a fight. The latter was fully puffed up with his claws digging into the cobblestone walkway and his pupils shrunken to small slits. Massimo swiveled his head around looking for whatever danger could have provoked Alberto’s shout, his shoulders hunched and his good arm gripping his harpoon tightly. However, when no danger presented itself, he glared half-heartedly through his eyebrows at the young sea monster who sheepishly grinned.

“Well, where’s the fuoco, eh?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Massimo, everything’s fine. But!” He pointed animatedly at the large man, “you are aware of what day it is, right? We only have a few hours until-”

“Until Giulia and Luca arrive, si piccolo, lo so. You’ve only been talking about it for a month now.” Shouldering his harpoon and popping his neck, the old fisherman turned to enter the house, an unhappy Machiavelli climbing onto his open shoulder, but not before growling irritably at Alberto.

“Come have breakfast, Alberto, we’ll see what we can do to keep busy while we wait.” The large man patted Alberto’s sun-kissed shoulder before entering the house. Slumping in resignation, the teen followed behind Massimo but not before stretching to give one last searching look at the expansive cliffs that breached the horizon, hopeful to see a plume of smoke.

**************

When the train finally pulled into the stazione, Luca was already flinging the train door open and running into the waiting arms of his mother who squealed with delight and refused to set him down for several long moments, much to Luca’s embarrassment and secret delight. An equally excited Giulia was soon to follow, and she said a quick hello to the Paguro’s before launching into Massimo’s open arms. While his father patted him on the head and asked the generic questions of wellbeing, Luca tried to glance around his parents. If Massimo was here, then so was-

“I told you I’d be okay.” Luca’s heart thudded painfully in his chest for one moment as Alberto sauntered into view. Prying himself from his mother, the young sea monster swiftly walked to Alberto and embraced him without pause. Luca buried his face into the crook of Alberto’s neck and breathed him in for the first time in nine months.

Whatever nerves and fear Alberto had been holding released him the moment his best friend enveloped him in his arms. Luca had grown slightly taller over the colder months and his skin had lost its sun-kissed pigmentation, but the warmth in his eyes had not faded in the slightest.

“Welcome home, Luca,” Alberto mumbled into his friend's hair, ignoring the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes, he pulled away with a chuckle. “Are we going to do this every time we say ciao?” Luca smiled wetly and scrubbed weakly at his face.

“I think I could get used to it if it’s with you.” Alberto resolutely decided to ignore the heat that gathered in his cheeks as Luca turned to answer Massimo. Brushing it off as too much time in the sun, he tuned into the conversation just as the gentle fisherman began speaking of their new fishing truck.

“Grazie to Alberto’s ‘knowing fish’, we earned enough for me to invest in an auto,” Massimo stated proudly, clasping a large hand onto Alberto’s shoulder. The teen modestly scratched under his hat and shrugged, turning to Giulia and Luca.

“He’s really only saying that. Massimo did all the hard work; I just stuck my head underwater a few times every day to navigate us. But!” Alberto waved towards the station entrance and began pulling Luca by the hand. “you really have to see the truck I’ve been writing to you about.”

The truck itself was what could hardly be described as new. The front bumper was barely hanging on and rusted completely through on the right side. Green chipped paint covered the doors and Luca noted with a swell of warmth the black hand-painted logo of “Massimo and Alberto Fishing co.” Most people would consider the truck like garbage, but Alberto found the faded paint and broken glass charming, and he said as much to the group. Giulia rubbed suspiciously at the truck’s tailgate, her eyes squinting as she studied it.

“The Americans call it a ‘Hudson pickup’,” Massimo announces proudly, his pronunciation heavily accented.

“I’m still not sold on it being actually safe, but I’ll admit it wasn’t too bad the first time Massimo drove it.” Daniela opined, opening the front door with a loud squeal.

“Yeah, not so much when Alberto decided to try it,” Lorenzo muttered good-naturedly. “My tail still won’t swim straight.”

“You drove the truck?!”

“You crashed the truck?!”

Giulia and Luca exclaimed, she glanced curiously at her papa who raised his hands innocently. Luca began looking at Alberto’s arms and skin, scouring for any injuries, completely ignoring the rest of the conversation.

“He’ll be sixteen this year, mia figlia, he’ll need at least a year of practice. Nessun problema, your time will come soon.”

“Oh, come on,” Alberto kindly pulled Luca’s hands away and hopped on the rear end beaming down at his family, “it wasn’t so bad for the first time. Plus, she just needs some love and she’ll be right as rain. You guys just can’t see her potential.” He patted the chipped paint fondly. “Not to mention this makes delivery way faster.” Massimo chuckled as Lorenzo continued to grumble and Daniela merely rolled her eyes.

“Si, and speaking of quick deliveries, let’s go home and eat lunch, hm?” Massimo lifted Luca and Giulia's luggage into the bed of the truck while the rest of the family, the Paguro and Marcovaldo families together again at last.

As the truck rattled through the colorful fishing port threatening to fall apart, Giulia and Luca rattled story after story to Alberto and Luca’s parents. Alberto tried to ignore the feelings of jealousy at the way his friends appeared to be so in tune. He laughed politely at their inside jokes and did his best to understand half the jargon they spouted, but in reality, he felt more lost than ever before. Stuffing the uncomfortable feelings down as far they’d go, Alberto helped the Paguro’s down first so that Daniela could help with preparing the food alongside Massimo. While Lorenzo had shown an interest in learning the human ways of cooking, he hadn’t quite managed to pull it off as well.

“You set the curtains on fire one time, and they never let you set foot in the kitchen again,” Lorenzo complained to the kids as he followed his wife.

“Except it wasn’t just the curtains,” Alberto whispered loudly to his best friends who giggled unapologetically.

“ONE TIME!” Lorenzo called hotly from inside.

Giulia smirked at her friends, “Some things never change, amicos.” Grabbing her bag, she turned to the house, “Oh, and Luca don’t forget about your gift!” She winked knowingly at a flustered Luca and befuddled Alberto.

Alberto glanced down at Luca who was doing his best impression of a frozen fish.

“Uh, was that supposed to me-”

“I made you something!!” Luca blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth. He glanced nervously at Alberto, who merely stared back stunned. Fishing in his uniform jacket pocket, Luca wordlessly pulled out the two multicolored bracelets from his pocket and held one out to Alberto. Alberto stood frozen his eyes glued to the green and purple threads glistening in the warm afternoon sun, his mouth hung loose in a silent ‘oh’. The threads danced innocently between them, and Luca felt his bravado begin to waver. When he still hadn’t said anything or moved to take the bracelet from Luca’s grasp, the younger boy grew more flustered and started to pull away, his voice shaking. “I- I’m sorry, you probably think this is so stupid.” Luca tried to not panic, desperately willing his mortification away.

Alberto’s hand shot out to pull both the bracelet and Luca’s hand back. “I can’t believe you made this for me.” He whispered, cradling the bracelet tenderly as he studied it in his palms. He traced the twining threads and smiled at how the pattern reminded him of scales. He looked at Luca and put his arm around him to pull him close. “I love it, thank you. No one’s ever given me something so beautiful.”

“R-really?” Luca asked, his expression hopeful.

“Really. Did you make this too?” Alberto squinted at the painted pearl hanging from the end of the strings, creating a clasp to hold it in place.

“Giulia's mom actually helped me design those with her paints.” Luca motioned to the pearl. “She said that gifts help make the distances feel smaller.” He pondered the delicately painted waves of his own pearl. “It’s funny when I was learning so much and seeing so many places, I never realized how far from home I would feel.” His gaze landed on Alberto, only now realizing how close they were. Up close he could see the new freckles that peppered his cheeks and how his face was slimming down. Nine months of hard work had broadened his shoulders and caused his wiry arms to harden with lean muscle. Clearing his throat, he pulled away again.

“Anyways, I guess we better go inside before the food gets cold.” Blushing as red as Massimo’s favorite wine, Luca threw one last smile over his shoulder and ran inside. Alberto grinned in response and slid the bracelet over his wrist fastening it so that it hugged him snugly. An emotion that he couldn’t quite name filled every part of him, spreading from his toes to the tip of his ears. Walking inside to the smells of homemade pasta and loud laughter, Alberto felt that the promise of a wonderful summer had just begun.

[msookyspooky]

Random Headcanon's for the Scream Character's

Billy really was a normal sweet kid and a good boyfriend before his mom left. Everyone paints him as always being crazy and his mom just triggered him but I honestly don't think that's true. Sidney and her parents would not have been okay with her dating a bad boy from Sophomore year onward. Sure it happens and maybe she saw past it but If Sidney would have seen how Billy acted with Randy in the videostore; instant break up imo. He could not have hid that side of himself for two years straight. Remember, they were dating a whole year prior to Maureen cheating. My theory is he may or may not have had a 'side' to him or other undiagnosed disorder in his gene pool (Mrs Loomis snapping too.) but Billy's psychotic breakdown was mostly situational + groomed by Roman and there were other things in his life that probably were boiling over and Debbie leaving him completely broke him. So, he was in an extremely vulnerable state when Roman came around and molded him. THAT is why Sidney trusted him so much in Scream before the phone incident and even somewhat after. Because Billy was a good boyfriend before her mom's murder and she would have never suspected it. Now how her or no one else could see him tumbling into madness or at least deep depression before Roman sank his talons in is beyond me. Maybe she did and he shrugged her off? Either way, the situation made him shut down all empathy towards other people and changed him. His empathy is towards his mom, possibly his dad since Hank never died and that is it. He has symptoms of a psychopath and even though that is usually genetic I 100% think a psychotic breakdown could do it as well.(Don't come for me bitch I'm not trained in any of this just using what I know from research 🧍‍♀️) If his mom never left and Roman didn't come along; Billy would have never been a killer

Contrary to Billy's situational psychological crazyness. Stu was always going to kill. I don't even think it's is he a sociopath vs a psychopath argument as much as he is just disconnected from reality. (Though he would most likely be a Sociopath if he was bc of his lack of boundaries as well impulsive behavior. Thinking killing was a game.) Stu possibly suffered abuse as a child. He was terrified of his parents more than the law. Either A. They abused him and permanently terrified him. Or B. He really has a stunted mentality and thinks of killing as a game and fears his parents more than the law bc the consequences are just not clicking LIKE A KID. He's like a giant little kid with no sense of how things work. He still could have been abused and that is what stunted his growth mentally. However, his violent tendacies were always there. Never preplanned just urgent anger or sadistic glee he couldn't control. Billy just suggested the killings and he was instantly down. Like, hell yeah cool. Most ppl no matter what mental illness they have or how severe are not that easy to convince. Whose to say he hadn't killed before or was planning to? My theory is he is so disconnected from reality that killing really is a giant fun game to him and he would have eventually murdered someone even without Billy.

Idk why this isn't more thought of throughout the fandom. Billy and Stu did not rape Maureen bc the evidence would have pointed to someone other than the guy they were framing. Cotton Weary had sex with Maureen, left, Billy and Stu taunted her on the phone and lured her away, they killed her, police suspected rape bc A. they didn't know about the affairs. B. Cotton's semen or her discharge or bruising being there. They naturally assumed it was rape but in actuality no one raped her. Cotton's dna from their affair incriminated him even more. Not saying that Billy and Stu would think of rape as morally wrong enough not to do in their book BUT it would have been stupid on their part and made it obvious there were other suspects besides Cotton.

Stu isn't a lapdog. Stu literally revealed on the phone he was going to throw Billy under the bus. He hesitated giving him the knife. Stu is like a kid. He most likely suffered trauma that regressed his mental age. He's eager to please, desperate for attention and most likely fawns over people he feels close to in an obsessive way. He could have even been in love with Billy and vice versa which is why he was so eager to please him. However, he was not nearly as stupid or a lapdog as much as the fandom makes him out to be. I think Randy saying it in the videostore sealed the deal for people even though he was only acting like that bc he was helping Billy too and covering their tracks. Billy was the one with the plan. Stu just tagged along out of the urge to kill. But he 100% had his own plan to kill and bail if needed. My mind is made up on that.

There was a third killer in Scream and it wasn't a teen or Roman. You're telling me two 17-18 yr old guys could come up with every detail? Roman only told Billy the basics. How did they get tactical police shoes? How did they get to the houses so fast and leave just as quickly? How did they both take down and restrain Steve or Neil by themselves enough to tie them up? Sure, Stu was deranged and tall but these two lanky teens were able to take on a football player with muscles and a grown man? Possible but stil meh to me. Their plan was too thorough for two teen boys to come up with on their own. Both crazy. One completely unhinged and disconnected from reality and the other so blinded by revenge he was stupid at times. (Fucking stabbing yourselves before killing Neil and Sidney. Not even thinking to AT LEAST tie Sidney up as well...Really? Jill was smarter in 4 in that respect tbh.) I truly think their was an adult involved in Scream helping them or guiding them. I would say Roman if it wasn't for him going back to Hollywood. But Billy and Stu had help DURING the killings 100%.

Randy is not this mecha survival final boy like the fandom thinks. The kid watched one too many horror movies and based them on real life. Scream itself is making fun of slasher movies and Randy was supposed to be the narrator setting most of the dumb rules up into play. Everyone is like "omg that's so out of character how he died in 2" no its not. If the rules work then him losing his virginity did him in. He was drinking, he was pissed off and not thinking. Plus Mrs. Loomis attacked in broad daylight, something no one thought of. (And the whole debate how a middle aged woman could pull him in. LOOK. Randy is a fucking small guy and she grabbed him backwards, using momentum to haul him back into the van. PLUS she was enraged at what he said about Billy. Adrenaline is a hell of a super drug as far as testing the bodies limits. I have seen tiny girls become the hulk when they are pissed I'm jus sayin) Point is, Randy was just a teen boy that loved horror movies. He was not some survival guide especially since it showed him even on the couch not aware of Ghostface behind him. He was a giant satire showing how even he didn't always follow the rules of slasher movies and how dumb the rules are.

Tatum loved Sidney and had more chemistry with her than Billy. I am not saying they weren't just BFF's and I don't want to ruin female friendship with constantly thinking "omg they are gay together" any time two women are close. BUT it is strange that it was only those two as friends especially since Sidney didn't fit into Tatum's popular social circle. It's like Tatum went out of her way to be friends with Sidney. Maybe they were childhood friends and that's why? But I think it's entirely possible that just like it's speculated that Stu and Billy were secretly in love; Tatum possibly was at least bi and in love with Sidney.

[heartcal]

“who do you believe?”; l.h. (pt. ii)

oh my GOD it’s here, it took longer than expected but she’s finally here! after the eye strain i got a sty so that threw me in for a loop, but the good news is my eyes are better! and i’m fully vaccinated too! please get the vaccine if you are able to :^) enjoy!

a/n: (formatting again lol) there’s a part where there’s supposed to be texts (in italics) so it may be a bit weird to read (hopefully not) (sorry for these parantheses) please let me know if there’s anything off!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

warnings: swearing (as usual), 

genre: angst, fluff, basically friends (to brief enemies but not really) to lovers?

wc: 5,201 (they’re getting longer, huh)

taglist: @1sosrvd1267 + @wowitsel (side note: i don’t have a current taglist, this is just for this fic!)

part one | my masterlist!

You skipped the after-party that night. You couldn’t bear standing in the same room as Luke and Rachel, so you booked a ride and left as soon as the car pulled up.

Had you stayed for the party, you would have crumbled under the looks of pity thrown at you by those who would have heard about what happened. The knowing looks that something bad had happened between two people everyone on the crew knew were best friends would have been uncomfortable.

The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but you were thankful the driver wasn’t the talkative type. The soft jazz playing on the radio wasn’t calming but it did distract you from the pain and embarrassment you felt from the argument.

Once the car had pulled up to your place, you bid a silent farewell to the driver and slid out.

You just wanted to get inside, take a shower, shut your phone for the night, and sleep until you physically can’t get any more sleep.

You’re not too surprised Luke stood up for his girlfriend. He does love her—he’s shown that with friends and with fans. But the way he glared at you, defended her without trying to find out what exactly went down…he had never looked at you like that.

You’ve seen that look before; it wasn’t something you were used to but it was the look he would give paparazzi when they would harass you, the guys, and his friends. The glare carried such strength that it would make people back off. And so when it was directed towards you, it struck you hard.

Having done what you wanted to do once you entered the house, you lay in bed with wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Your phone was face down on your nightstand, completely out of reach to the point one slight touch could knock it off.

Maybe you were the one at fault. Maybe you should’ve told the truth about your feelings to Rachel or Luke before this all happened. It could have prevented the fallout and you would be with the guys and the crew celebrating a successful show.

But what good would that have done? Had you told someone, anyone, that you liked Luke more than a best friend should, would that have caused the same problem but presented differently? Or would something come from it? Maybe nothing would have happened.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your back away from the nightstand, facing the empty half of the bed and before your mind drifts to more pitiful thoughts, you close your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. It’s as if you blinked, with the night flying by faster than you had wanted and anticipated.

The sunlight beamed down on you from above your headboard. It was late morning and it was time to face the harsh reality of the day.

There is no doubt you have lost Luke as your best friend.

Wiping the sleep and crust from your eyes, you sit up and vacantly glance around the room. The box where you keep gifts from Luke is illuminated by the sunlight, and with the vacant stare you stand to walk towards it.

You hesitate to open it; it’ll bring back memories of good times and with the events of the previous night, you do not think you can handle the rush of emotions.

It’s then when you realize your phone was off, and though you don’t want to do anything social today and would rather stay home with your favorite snacks and shows, you know you have to let your friends know how you’re doing.

You stall by washing your face and brushing your teeth, albeit slower than usual. You know that once you turn your phone on, the onslaught of questions and missed calls are going to take possibly an hour to clear up.

Sure enough, as you turn your phone on, the missed messages come in, barely giving your notification tone a break and the missed calls and voicemails were coming in fast. You can feel the heat from the battery on your palm, and for the sake of the phone you switch the sound off and turn on Do Not Disturb to prevent any new calls from coming through.

The messages you saw were from the crew, asking where you went and if you were okay. Others were from the boys minus Luke, and looking through the missed calls, there was nothing from Luke.

You’re not surprised, but the pain was still simmering within and seeing no messages or missed calls from him was adding to it.

You responded to the crew’s messages first, since many of them sent one or two messages asking simple questions: “Are you okay,” “Where did you go,” and “Did you get home safe?”

Then you responded to the boys’, Michael’s first since he had the least amount of messages.

hey, you didn’t have to leave. we could’ve talked some sense into him when he calmed down (11:37pm)

did u get home okay? we know you didn’t drive here yourself. (11:58pm)

please let us know you made it home. let us know you’re okay (12:10am)

hope you made it home and that you’re safe and okay. thank u for ur work today. please text me when you see these. goodnight (12:49am)

You typed your reply to him, letting him know that you were okay and got home safe.

Calum’s messages were similar, asking the same questions but some were repeated to emphasize his worry. In response, you answered his questions like Michael’s.

But even before you can open Ashton’s messages, seeing double digits next to your conversation with him, rapid knocks on your front door grab your attention.

With a groan you stand and grab your robe from the hook on the door, wrapping it tightly around your body as you open the door and groggily walk to the front door.

It was a stupid idea, as you weren’t ready to face anyone yet Ashton stands in front of you. He’s well-rested, a stark contrast to you as you were sure your eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, along with an occasional sniffle from your nose.

His eyes travel from your face, down to your feet, and back up to your eyes. He can immediately tell you had a terrible night.

“You weren’t answering anyone last night,” he begins, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, “we were worried about you after you left.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I just—I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“You could’ve let one of us know that you were shutting off.”

You nodded with a frown, “I could have, yeah,” your eyes dart around behind him to avoid his worrisome eyes before asking him if he wanted to come in.

He doesn’t hesitate and steps in once you move aside, opening the door wider to give him enough room. He notes your bag in a heap on the floor a few inches away from the couch, and how your shoes were far apart, with one upside down, as if you flung them off.

“How are you holding up now?”

You shrug, still avoiding his eyes because you know if you make eye contact, you’ll break down and you won’t have control over the onslaught of emotions.

“Be honest,” his voice is soft, wanting to make you feel comfortable enough to open up.

You stare at the ground, biting the skin of your lower lip nervously. This is why you did not want to talk to anyone face-to-face. Talking to them over the phone, preferably through text, allowed you to lie to the other person (and if applicable, to yourself). But talking to someone in person, and to someone who can see through your lies, you were bound to break down and become vulnerable.

You inhale, taking careful steps to the couch and gently sitting down with a sigh. Ashton follows you, sitting next to you but giving you space to not overwhelm you.

“What happened last night—,” you lean back with your arms folded over your chest, “—was something that I feared. When I realized I liked Luke, I was so worried about him finding out and what the outcome would be. I knew from the beginning that things would never be the same if he found out, and I was afraid of the change that would come from it.”

Ashton listens intently, his eyes displaying sincerity as he listens to you list off your worries. What he saw last night bothered him to no end, and had he not exerted most of his energy during the show, he would not have slept at all and would have stayed up all night in a constant state of worry.

“So, now that Rachel knows, and no doubt Luke has caught on, I don’t know what to do. I responded to everyone’s texts before you arrived, and Luke sent nothing—not even a phone call.”

Ashton nods, swallowing before speaking, “Well, after you left, things went down that may be the reason why he hasn’t tried contacting you.”

Your head turns to face him, eyebrows furrowed as confusion embeds itself across the rest of your features.

Ashton readjusts himself, getting comfortable in his seat as he gathers the right words.

“Something happened after I left?” You ask as you shift in your seat to face him.

“Michael wanted to go after you, to at least offer you a ride back, but Calum went back to tell Luke that it was bullshit what happened. So, Michael went back to make sure they wouldn’t fight or anything. I also pointed out that he was a dick; choosing you over her when he’s known you the longest didn’t sit right with us. But he got defensive and kept wanting to leave but Rachel convinced him it was alright, so they stayed for the party. But the party was bad—the crew felt the tension and the vibes were down—,” he chuckles at the word choice, getting a small laugh out of you as well, “—it brought everyone out of the energetic and ecstatic mood we were in before the confrontation. We all kinda did our own thing during the party but we noticed things were tense between Luke and Rachel. And when the party ended, shit hit the fan.”

“What happened?”

Ashton sighs, “To make the long story short, they got into an argument when we were leaving the venue after Michael brought up your name. He said something like, ‘I hope they got home safe,’ and that you weren’t answering your phone at all. Calum and I pointed out, again, how rude Luke was to you and Luke kept defending himself. Rachel dropped an insult and something shifted. Basically, they’re done and the guys and I can finally fucking breathe.”

“Wait—,” you stand with bulging eyes, “—wait, are you saying they broke up?”

Ashton hums as he watches you mindlessly walk around your living room.

The guys have been waiting for their break-up. It’s not something they were open about, as to avoid any conflict with their best friend, but it was almost an unspoken agreement: Rachel was not liked.

As for you, it’s not like you were wishing for their break-up. You wanted Luke to be happy, and if he was happy in that relationship, then so be it. But you were not a fan of it. Yeah, you liked her in the beginning but when she started disregarding you as if you did something to offend her, you lost most of your respect for her. Now, with this news of their break-up, you don’t know what to do.

Are you happy? You don’t exactly feel happy about it, but there is some relief.

“So,” you sit back down on the couch slowly, “what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Not sure,” Ashton shrugs, “but I recommend talking to Luke.”

You shake your head fervently, “No. I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“But you’re talking to me,” Ashton has a smirk, but you know there’s no malice behind his joke.

“You showed up unannounced, Ash,” you smile, “I was responding to everyone who sent messages and voicemails. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else in person.”

He holds his hands up in defense, “Fair enough, but don’t be a stranger.”

He gives you a quick hug, whispering something similar to ‘don’t shut Luke out’ before he pulls away and walks out.

Ashton’s words stuck with you for the next week. You felt comfortable enough a few days after the fact to contact the boys, eventually meeting up with Ashton and Calum for lunch and third-wheeling Michael and his fiancée. The only person out of your friend group and co-workers you have not contacted was Luke. He hasn’t contacted you either, but you do not think much about it as you’re still trying to figure things out. If he were to contact you, how do you talk about what happened?

You want to know why he was able to choose his then-girlfriend over you, but at the same time you don’t want to know the answer. You know that one day, and though it hurts, you will not be his number one. With the way he behaved that night, it felt like that dreadful moment came to earlier than expected, that he found his number one and you immediately became his second go-to person.

So it did surprise you when you were out with an old friend to receive a text from Luke.

Can we talk about what happened? (2:23pm)

You only stare blankly at the text, not even moving to type a response. You were in such a good mood, and not even this text would change it. Instead, you lock your phone and place it back in your pocket, noting to leave it alone until your day out comes to an end.

And when it does, you see that more texts from Luke had arrived, the final being sent an hour before the outing ended.

I know you’re mad, I understand that and I don’t blame you but please talk to me (2:31pm)

You’re reading these, please say something (2:33pm)

There are some things that I need to clear up with you, I want to apologize for what happened that night but I want to do it face to face. Please respond. (3:57pm)

Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Sorry if I’m bombarding you with these texts, I just don’t want to lose you over something that I realize now should not have happened. Respond when you want to, I’ll be here. (5:49pm)

You could only let out a small chuckle at the persistent requests to talk, and you don’t deny the small—minuscule, honestly—flutter in your stomach. You don’t waste any time responding.

Sorry, I was busy. We can meet somewhere to talk. (7:08pm)

He responds about five minutes later, agreeing to meet at a small café the two of you love tomorrow afternoon.

The rest of the night for you is spent thinking of ways to carry yourself, being completely confident, and accepting the fact that you love your best friend. Pep talks in the shower and mirror to calm any arising nerves, revising the topics you want to talk about in your head so you keep the confidence.

As for Luke, he was struggling to gather all his thoughts. In the beginning, he thoroughly enjoyed the fact that you and Rachel got along. He liked seeing his best friend and girlfriend become friends like that. He didn’t notice the shift, however, and he wishes he did before things got out of hand.

When he defended Rachel, without finding out the story from all sides, he thought he was doing what was right. To him, friendships and relationships have the same base, but romantic relationships with a partner have a different structure than friendships do, and he was starting to see cracks in his friendship before he saw it in his relationship.

When he confronted Rachel after she insulted you, he started to see someone he never saw. He remembered the times Rachel ignored you, sometimes playing it off as if she never heard you. He remembered how she would make plans with everyone and exclude you, but he always played it off as an accident (even if he knew it wasn’t). He remembered all these times he noticed a change in mood when the two of you were in the same room, and he couldn’t believe he turned a blind eye to all of it.

It hurt him to break-up with Rachel—he won’t deny that because he did love her. It’s not that he saw the rest of his life with her as they weren’t at that mark in the relationship.

But, when he did picture his future, he always saw you. He always thought it was just as a friend, someone who was just joined at the hip. Yet, he was quick to throw that away for someone he rarely saw when he pictured the future.

Which is why, the next day, as he sits at a booth near the window of the café, he carefully goes over what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to ruin the chance to fix things between the two of you. If it goes awry, not only does he lose you, but his friendships with the band and the team will take a hit since they all love you.

The bell above the door rings making his head turn to watch you walk in. Your eyes danced around the café before they fell on him.

He couldn’t help the smile the formed on his lips, a small breath of relief escaping as he watches you walk towards him. The smile doesn’t stay long though, because as you sit down with a stoic expression, the reality hits him.

“I got your usual,” he’s shy and timid, pushing the mug toward you as he eyes the liquid nearly spills the edge.

You mumble a ‘thanks,’ grabbing the mug and taking a small sip. It falls silent as the two of you wonder who should start first.

Luke makes the move first. He sighs, sitting up straight and wiping his palms on his pants.

He’s nervous. When the guys started touring, visiting new cities and countries, he would always be nervous and constantly wiped his hands on his thighs, sitting up straight and even straighter if he wasn’t slouching. It’s an old habit, but something you remember fondly as he had grown out of it. Or so you thought.

“I want to start with I’m sorry,” he begins, making eye contact but fails to hold it. His eyes instead drift to his drink, “I know what I did was wrong, and I put you in a spot that hurt you and disregarded you. At the moment, I thought I was doing the right thing because she was my girlfriend, but then—” he gulps, “when she insulted you, it struck a nerve and, not to sound cliché or anything, it felt like it opened my eyes. I saw someone I didn’t see when I first met them.”

You don’t respond, just nodding your head to let him know you’re listening.

He licks his lips before continuing, “When the guys brought up how you left on your own, I was feeling nervous and they started reminding me how much of a dick I was to you. I didn’t want to admit it myself, but now, I was such an ass. I’m just—I’m so sorry for what happened.”

“Luke,” you sigh, shifting in your seat, “I’m not saying I forgive you but I accept your apology. It hurt me so much that a friend, someone I’ve known for years was just so quick to turn their back and take someone else’s side. I know she was your girlfriend, but I wish you didn’t do what you did.”

“If I could go back and fix it, I would.”

You only nod again, trying to think about other things that need to be talked about. The one topic you hope to avoid is the possibility of him knowing your feelings—something you do not want to discuss, at least not yet.

“Did she say anything to you?”

The question leaves your mouth before you register it, and the widening of your eyes catches Luke off guard.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, grabbing your mug and taking a long sip.

“She didn’t tell me what started the problems between you two, if that’s what you mean,” Luke smiles a bit, watching you nervously play with the mug’s handle after the sip. It fades when your eyes move up to meet his, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it isn’t important anymore. She’s out of the picture, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The silence returns, but unlike the previous bout, it’s a calming silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the air is easier to breathe and the tension isn’t unsettling.

“Where do we go from here?” Luke asks, nervously wringing his fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Luke,” you offer a smile, “but it’s going to take some time to ‘heal,’ if you will.”

Luke smiles again, this time a bigger grin. He nods, leaning back in his seat, “Let me know what I can do to make things better. I’ll do it if I get to keep you.”

Over the next few months, your friendship with Luke was rekindled. The guys were at ease now that Rachel was gone and you seemingly had taken her place, even though you were friends. The awkward glances they would give when Rachel was in the same room were now playful rolls of the eyes over a dumb joke or pranks. You didn’t miss out on any outings you wanted to go to, now that everyone invited would check in with each other the night before. Things went back to the way they were before Rachel.

There was a change in your friendship, however. It wasn’t something you noticed right away, but it was something you thought about at night just a few weeks ago. Luke paid more attention to you, not that he didn’t pay attention before, but this was a noticeable change where he still looks at you even after you finished talking, and would only look away from you when you caught him. He would always cover his mouth with his index and middle finger, but you saw a small smile behind them. You played it off as friendly teasing, but it tugs on your heartstrings.

Another noticeable change is the hugs. Duration-wise, they were relatively the same. However the touch lingered; if he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, an arm would stay around your shoulder, meanwhile if they were around your waist, his hand would stay on the small of your back. You played it off as a friend being protective, but yet again, it did nothing to stop your growing love.

Tonight was the first night of their tour. The boys were up to their usual pre-show antics, as well as the nervous habits; Michael fixing his hair and deciding whether to go with a beanie or a hat, or neither, Ashton was warming up with his pre-show playlist, Calum testing his bass, and Luke was relatively fine.

Sure, he was nervous because it isn’t a crowd of 500, close to 20,000, but he was calm compared to the last time he performed. He didn’t have any worries to talk about, his vocal warm-ups were smooth, and getting dressed up was a breeze. He shared chuckles with you as you both watched the others move around with tense expressions (all with no malice, of course).

“You sure you’re not on edge?” you nudge Luke with your arm as he leans forward on the couch your sitting on to fix his shoe.

“Nope,” he sits up, leaning back in his seat.

“Really?” you inquire again, doubt laced in your tone with a hint of teasing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “if anything I’m excited about tonight.”

You hum, crossing your arms as you watch Ashton walk over.

“Ten minutes left,” he nods at Luke before walking to Michael to tell him the same thing.

You give Luke a look, wanting to get him to admit he is nervous, but all you get is a smirk and a shrug. He stands, patting your shoulder left before walking away to put in his in-ears.

You won’t deny you still don’t have feelings for him. Throughout the past few months, you were able to pinpoint the reasons why you fell for him. The small acts, the obscure things he would remember about you—especially the ones you don’t remember yourself—with the attention he would give you. It was staring you in the face, but you chose to deny all the signals to give yourself the satisfaction of thinking it was just a phase. But now you know why you love him.

Two minutes until showtime, Ashton finishes his speech and the crew is taking their places. The band stands at the opening, waiting for their cue to head out.

As you watched them hype themselves up, you noticed Luke looking around nervously. Of course.

“Nervous?”

His head whips toward you, and you can see it in his eyes.

“A little,” he mumbles, but you don’t hear it over the crowd’s excited screams.

“You got this,” you grab his shoulders to make him look you in the eyes, “like Ash said, you guys worked your asses off for this album. The fans loved it, your shows are all sold out, and you have thousands out there waiting to see you kill it.”

He’s silent, blue eyes staring into yours as they bounce from one eye to the other.

“I love you,” he blurts, loud enough just for you to hear.

You freeze, the grip on his shoulder loosens but remain.

He notices, “She did tell me something that night, and whether or not it’s true, I-I love you.”

“Sixty seconds!” a stage recites in the earpieces.

The boys turn to look at both of you, curious eyes turn into surprise as they watch your expression.

“I don’t know how long, I don’t know when, and I don’t know what it was, but I know for sure.”

Your eyes glance at Ashton briefly, not missing the knowing smile he gives you before you look back into Luke’s eyes.

“I…love you, too,” you respond, gripping his shoulders while your eyes drop down to his shiny shoes.

He doesn’t hear you over the cheers and screams, but reading your lips he knows the answer.

Luke smiles, grabbing the back of your head and kissing your forehead.

He leans down to your ear, “I expect to hear you say it when I come back.”

With flashing lights scattering across the stage, the boys run out to the stage, big smiles gracing their faces for multiple reasons with adrenaline pumping through their veins. From backstage, you watch the show you a smile, feeling high from the brief but fulfilling confession.

It’s two hours later when the show ends. Your heart is pounding as you watch the crew celebrate the successful first show.

Luke pulls you away from the crowd, into the hallway and away from the noise.

“So it was true, what Rachel said?” Luke begins, his hand still holding yours as a shy smile forms.

“What did she say?”

He exhales air through his nose in a laugh, “She said you were in love with me, and that you were trying to break us up.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you look at your intertwined fingers. He squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I doubt that last part, but the first part I’m hoping is true in a sense.”

Your eyes meet his, adoration swimming in them bringing a smile to your face, “There may be a strong crush I have on you,” you tease, “and it may or may not have turned into love.”

He laughs, letting go of your hand to wrap you in a hug. His head dips down, his forehead on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. He moves slightly, whispering in your ear, “Say it.”

Your head rested against his chest, hearing his heart beat rapidly and rhythmically.

“I love you,” you whisper.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he pulls away, his arms resting on your hips as he smiles down at you.

“If you’d like,” he begins, his tone timid now, “that place you like in Seattle has a new dish. It’s our next stop…” he drifts off, hoping you’d catch on to him asking you out.

You do, laughing at how he remembered yet another thing you seem to have forgotten. It was a themed restaurant that had some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, and for days you wouldn’t stop talking about it. But you never went back to it, even during breaks, but somehow he seemed to remember.

“Yes, Luke.”

You know the shock will hit you later that night, that finally the person you’ve fallen for, who happens to be your best friend, admitted his feelings to you. But you’re happy, Luke’s happy, and with the boys’ and crew’s reaction to the two of you walking back to the area where they’re celebrating, the happiness is infectious.

On the road in the tour bus, Ashton passes you as you respond to emails.

“Thanks for not shutting him out,” he says, drinking a small bottle of water from the fridge.

“Did you know?”

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes as he finishes the bottle and tosses it in the recycling bag. “Maybe,” he walks towards the back where the beds are, “maybe not.”

You shake your head, “You did.”

“Didn’t want to spoil it,” he gives you a quick hug before retreating to bed.

Luke walks out of the bathroom shortly after, taking his spot next to you.

“Go to bed,” you slightly shift your shoulder as he lays his head on it, “you need the rest.”

“No,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his tone, “feels like a dream. Don’t wanna wake up.”

You chuckle at his nonsense, finishing off the last email before shutting the laptop and placing it on the counter next to you. You adjust yourself on the couch to have Luke lay down with you. He readjusts himself so he doesn’t crush you, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his head on your chest.

“I wish I had known before all the drama,” he mumbles again, eyes closed, “I want you in my life, always.”

He drifts off to sleep with that, a faint smile on his lips.

You know what made you fall in love with your best friend. You accept it now, and you’re at peace knowing the feeling is mutual.

[liquidstar]

I feel as if many people, myself included, have been having problems with the way “critical thinking” is conducted in fandom circles more and more. Which I’d say is a good thing, because it means we’re thinking critically. But still the issues with the faux-critical mentality and with the way we consume media through that fandom group mentality are incredibly widespread at this point, despite being very flawed, and there are still plenty of people who follow it blindly, ironically.

I sort of felt like I had to examine my personal feelings on it and I ended up writing a whole novel, which I’ll put under the cut, and I do welcome other people’s voices in the matter, because while I’m being as nuanced as I can here I obviously am still writing from personal experience and may overlook some things from my limited perspective. But by and large I think I’ve dissected the phenomena as best I can from what I’ve been seeing going on in fandom circles from a safe but observable distance.

Right off the bat I want to say, I think it's incredibly good and necessary to be critical of media and understand when you should stop consuming it, but that line can be a bit circumstantial sometimes for different people. There are a lot of anime that I used to watch as a teenager that I can’t enjoy anymore, because I got more and more uncomfortable overtime with the sexualization of young characters, partly because as I was getting older I was really starting to realize how big of an issue it was, and I certainly think more critically now than I did when I was 14. Of course I don’t assume everyone who still watches certain series is a pedophile, and I do think there are plenty of fans that understand this. However I still stay away from those circles and that’s a personal choice.

I don’t think a person is morally superior based on where they draw the line and their own boundaries with this type of stuff, what’s more important is your understanding of the problem and response to it. There are series I watch that have a lot of the same issues around sexualization of the young characters in the cast, but they’re relatively toned down and I can still enjoy the aspects of the series I actually like without it feeling as uncomfortable and extreme. Others will not be able to, and their issues with it are legitimate and ones that I still ultimately agree with, but they’re still free to dislike the series for it, after all our stance on the issue itself is the same so why would I resent them for it?

Different people are bound to have different lines they draw for how far certain things can go in media before they’re uncomfortable watching it and it doesn’t make it a moral failing of the person who can put up with more if they’re still capable of understanding why it’s bad to begin with and able to not let it effect them. But I don’t think that sentiment necessarily contradicts the idea that some things really are too far gone for this to apply, the above examples aren’t the same thing as a series centered solely around lolicon ecchi and it doesn’t take a lot of deep analysis to understand why. It’s not about a personal line anymore when it comes to things that are outright propaganda or predatory with harmful ideals woven into the message of the story itself. Critical thinking means knowing the difference between these, and no one can hold your hand through it. And simply slapping “I’m critical of my interests” on your bio isn’t a get out of jail free card, it’s always evident when someone isn’t truly thinking about the impact of the media they consume through the way they consume it.

I think the issue is that when people apply “Critical thinking” they don’t actually analyze the story and its intent, messages, themes, morals, and all that. Instead they approach it completely diegetically, it’s basically the thermian argument, the issue stems from thinking about the story and characters as if they’re real people and judging their actions through that perspective, rather than something from a writer trying to deliver a narrative by using the story and characters as tools. Like how people get upset about characters behaving “problematically” without realizing that it’s an intentional aspect of the story, that the character needs to cause problems for there to be conflict. What they should be looking at instead is what their behavior represents in the real world.

You do not need to apply real-world morals to fictional characters, you need to apply them to the narrative. The story exists in the real world, the characters and events within it do not. Fictional murderers themselves do not hurt anyone, no one is actually dying at their hands, but their actions hold weight in the narrative which itself can harm real people. If the character only murders gay people then it reflects on whatever the themes and messages of the story are, and it’s a major issue if it's framed as if they’re morally justified, or as if this is a noble action. And it’s a huge red flag if people stan this character, even if the story itself actually presents their actions as reprehensible. Or cases where the murderers themselves are some kind of awful stereotype, like Buffalo Bill who presents a violent and dangerous stereotype of trans women, making the character a transmisogynistic caricature (Intentional or otherwise) that has caused a lot of harm to the perception of trans women. When people say “Fiction affects reality” this is what they mean. They do not mean “People will see a pretend bad guy and become bad” they mean “Ideals represented in fiction will be pulled from the real world and reflected back onto it.”

However, stories shouldn’t have to spoon-feed you the lesson as if you’re watching a children’s cartoon, stories often have nuances and you have to actively analyze the themes of it all to understand it’s core messages. Oftentimes it can be intentionally murky and hard to parse especially if the subject matter itself is complicated. But you can’t simply read things on the surface and think you understand everything about them, without understanding the symbolism or subtext you can leave a series like Revolutionary Girl Utena thinking the titular Utena is heterosexual and was only ever in love with her prince. Things won’t always be face-value or clear-cut and you will be forced to come to your own conclusions sometimes too.

That’s why the whole fandom-based groupthink mentality about “critical thinking” doesn’t work, because it’s not critical. It’s simply looking into the crowd, seeing people say a show is problematic, and then dropping it without truly understanding why. It’s performative, consuming the best media isn’t activism and it doesn’t make you a better person. Listening to the voices of people whom the issues directly concerns will help you form an opinion, and to understand the issues from a more knowledgeable perspective beyond your own. All that means nothing if you just sweep it under the rug because you want to look infallible in your morality. That’s not being critical, it’s just being scared to analyze yourself, as well as what you engage with. You just don’t want to think about those things and you’re afraid of being less than perfect so you pretend it never happened.

And though I’m making this post, it’s not mine or anyone else’s job to hold your hand through all this and tell you “Oh this show is okay, but this show isn't, and this book is bad etc etc etc”. Because you actually have to think for yourself, you know, critically. Examples I’ve listed aren’t rules of thumb, they’re just examples and things will vary depending on the story and circumstance. You have to look at shit on a case-by-case basis instead of relying on spotting tropes without thinking about how they’re implemented and what they mean. That’s why it’s analysis, you have to use it to understand what the narrative is communicating to its audience, explicitly or implicitly, intentionally or incidentally, and understand how this reflects the real world and what kind of impact it can have on it. 

A big problem with fandom is it has made interests synonymous with personality traits, as if every series we consume is a core part of our being, and everything we see in it reflects our viewpoints as well. So when people are told that a show they watched is problematic, they react very extremely, because they see it as basically the same thing as saying they themselves are problematic (It’s not). Everyone sees themselves as good people, they don’t want to be bad people, so this scares them and they either start hiding any evidence that they ever liked it, or they double down and start defending it despite all its flaws, often providing those aforementioned thermian arguments (“She dresses that way because of her powers!”).

That’s how you get people who call children’s cartoons “irredeemable media” and people who plaster “fiction=/= reality!” all over their blogs, both are basically trying to save face either by denying that they could ever consume anything problematic or denying that the problematic aspects exist all together. And absolutely no one is actually addressing the core issues anymore, save for those affected by them who pointed them out to begin with, only for their original point to become muffled in the discourse. No one is thinking critically because they’re more concerned with us-vs-them group mentality, both sides try to out-perform the other while the actual issue gets ignored or is used as nothing more than a gacha with no true understanding or sympathy behind it.

One of the other issues that comes from this is the fact that pretty much everyone thinks they’re the only person capable of being critical of their interests. That’s how you get those interactions where one person goes “OK [Media] fan” and another person replies “Bro you literally like [Other Media]”, because both parties think they’re the only ones capable of consuming a problematic piece of media and not becoming problematic themselves, anyone else who enjoys it is clearly incapable of being as big brained as them. It’s understandable because we know ourselves and trust ourselves more than strangers, and I’m not saying there can’t be certain fandoms who’s fans you don’t wanna interact with, but when we presume that we know better than everyone else we stop listening to other people all together. It’s good to trust your own judgement, it’s bad to assume no one else has the capacity to think for themselves either though.

The insistence that all media that you personally like is without moral failing and completely pure comes with the belief that all media that you personally dislike has to be morally bad in some way. As if you can’t just dislike a series because you find it annoying or it just doesn’t appeal to you, it has to be problematic, and you have to justify your dislike of it through that perspective. You have to believe that your view on whatever media it is is the objectively correct one, so you’ll likely pick apart all it’s flaws to prove you’re on the right side, but there’s no analysis of context or intent. Keep in mind this doesn’t necessarily mean those critiques are unfounded or invalid, but in cases like this they’re often skewed in one direction based on personal opinion. It’s just as flawed as ignoring all the faults in the stuff you like, it’s biased and subjective analysis that misses a lot of context in both cases, it’s not a good mindset to have about consuming media. It’s just another result of tying media consumption with identity and personal morals. The faux-critical mentality is an attempt to separate the two in a way that implies they’re a packaged deal to begin with, making it sort of impossible to truly do so in any meaningful way.

As far as I know this whole phenomena started with “Steven Universe Critical” in, like, 2016, and that’s where this mentality around “critical thinking” originated. It started out with just a few people correctly pointing out very legitimate issues with the series, but over time it grew into just a trend where people would make cutesy kin blogs with urls like critical-[character] or [character]crit to go with the fad as it divulged into Nostalgia Critic level critique. Of course there was backlash to this and criticism of the criticism, but no actual conversation to be had. Just people trying to out-do each other by acting as the most virtuous one in the room, and soon enough the fad became a huge echo-chamber that encouraged more and more outrageous takes for every little thing. The series itself was a children’s cartoon so it stands to reason that a lot of the fans were young teens, so this behavior isn’t too surprising and I do believe a lot of them did think they were doing the right thing, especially since it was encouraged. But that doesn’t erase the fact that there were actual real issues and concerns brought up about the series that got treated with very little sympathy and were instead drowning out people’s voices. Though those from a few years back may have grown up since and know better (Hopefully), the mentality stuck around and influenced the norm for how fandoms and fandom people conduct any sort of critique on media. 

That’s a shame to me, because the pedestal people place fandom onto has completely disrupted our perception on how to engage with media in a normal way. Not everything should be consumed with fandom in mind, not everything is a coffee-shop au with no conflict, not everything is a children’s cartoon with the morals spoon-fed to you. Fandom has grown past the years of uncritical praise of a series, it’s much more mainstream now with a lot more voices in it beyond your small community on some forum, and people are allowed to use those voices. Just because it may not be as pleasant for you now because you don’t get to just turn your brain off and ignore all the flaws doesn’t mean you can put on your rose-tinted nostalgia goggles and pretend that fandom is actually all that is good in the world, to the point where you place it above the comfort and safety of others (Oftentimes children). Being uncritical of fandom itself is just as bad as being uncritical of what you consume to begin with. 

At the end of the day it all just boils down to the ability to truly think for yourself but with sympathy and compassion for other people in mind, while also understanding that not everyone will come to the same conclusion as you and people are allowed to resent your interests. That doesn’t necessarily mean they hate you personally, you should be acknowledging the same issues after all. You can’t ignore aspects of it that aren’t convenient to your conclusion, you have to actually be critical and understand the issues to be able to form it. 

I think that all we need is to not rely on fandom to tell us what to do, but still listen to the voices of others, take them into account to form our opinion too, boost their voices instead of drowning them out in the minutiae of internet discourse about which character is too much of an asshole to like. Think about what the characters and story represent non-diegetically instead of treating them like real people and events, rather a story with an intent and message to share through its story and characters, and whatever those reflect from the real world. That’s how fiction affects reality, because it exists in reality and reflects reality through its own lens. The story itself is real, with a real impact on you and many others, so think about the impact and why it all matters. Just… Think. Listen to others but think for yourself, that’s all.

[minniboe]

The brothers when they accidentally hurt MC

Lucifer

He's working till the late hours of the night filling in paperwork for Diavolo, you hug him from behind and try to get his attention. He, however, has had a long day and just wants the work to be done so when he tells you to leave and you don't he gets agitated. He pushes you away, he intended it to just get you off him but he send you flying against the bookshelves behind you.

As you fall to the floor he jumps up from his desk and rushes over to you.

"Are you alright? I didn't... It was never my intention to hurt you." He said trying to hide his panic as he helps you to your feet. He inspects you and by some miracle, you haven't broken anything.

"Are you sure you're alright? I couldn't forgive myself if... If I had," He said looking concerned but before he could finish you grab his hand to calm him down. He brings you to your room and from that moment on he never tried to push you again.

Mammon

He's having one of his tsundere Moments so you decide to tickle him, that will teach him a lesson. So you start and he's flailing his arms everywhere begging you to stop, until he exactly punches you in the face knocking you out cold.

"Mc? MC! Shit, hey wake up! Ya hear me? Please, please wake up... Please!" He said as he shakes your unconscious body and tears start streaming down his face.

He picks you up and lays you on the sofa he then starts to frantically walk around the room while mumbling to himself. When you wake up he gives you the biggest hug ever and starts crying again as he apologizes to you over and over. He looks after you for the rest of the day.

Levi

He's playing one of his games and loses, he is absolutely livid how could some online normie beat him? He grabbes the closest thing to him and throws it, but he forgot that you where hanging in his room and he threw it in your direction.

He starts to freak out when he sees that it hit you.

"MC! NO NO NO NO NO! How could I have done this?" He yells as he runs over to you and starts to inspect you. He starts to plead for your forgiveness, he never meant to harm you. You try to tell him it's not so bad but he's freaking out too much to hear anything you say, you have to grab his hand for him to listen to you.

He asks what he can do to make it up to you and you suggest he kisses the spot that hurts. He instantly blushes but eventually does it.

Satan (Warning Blood!!!)

He was having an argument with Belphie and since they both are so stubborn things escalated very quickly. Satan grabs on of his books, one with a particularly hard binding, and launches it towards Belphie, but the demon manages to dodge it. You however weren't so lucky as you came by to return a book and got hit in the face with what felt like stone.

Satan doesn't realize at first, it's not until he hears you scream that he looks past Belphie and notices you. You were covering your face with your hands but the blood seeped trough your fingers and dripped onto the book. You run to the nearest bathroom to clean up.

As you're grabbing paper for your bleeding nose you don't notice Satan entering the bathroom.

"MC... Let me take a look at you. Show me how bad it is." He said in a quiet tone as he approaches you. You do as he asks and he sees your nose is broken but to his shock, the rest of your face seems fine. He asks if he can do he healing spell on you, you agree and as he speaks out the words your bleeding stops and your nose rearranges itself. He apologizes after he's done casting the spell, he really does feel bad about it.

Asmo

You decide to pull a prank on Asmo so you sneak up on him as he's doing his makeup and scream in his ear. Your plan works a little too well as in a moment of panic he hits you in the eye with his makeup brush.

He starts to scold you for scaring him but as he sees your black eye he starts to freak out.

"MC! Your eye! Oh no, your beautiful eye!" You take a look in the mirror, and yes it looks bad. He apologizes and he's honestly freaking out more than you.

"Okay don't panic MC. I can fix this! I'm just going to cover it with some makeup, that should work. Right?" He asks, you decide to give it a go. He is very careful not to hurt you even more but he accidentally presses the brush a bit to hard against your bruised skin making you wince. He immediately stops and after some reashuring ge continues and he's even more careful then before. After he's coverd you up he gives you a kiss on the cheek to make you feel better.

Beel (warning mention of throwing up!!!)

Beel was doing his daily workout but today he wanted to do something a bit different so he asked if you could join him. You did his workout and now your throwing a football at each other. It all goes well until you run further back and Beel throws the ball harder. The ball ends up hitting you in the stomach and knocks you to the ground.

You clutch your stomach in pain and resist the urge to throw up. Before you know it Beel is next to you with a concerned look on his face.

"MC, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to throw it so hard, are you okay? Are you hurt?" He franticly asks as he looks at you. It takes you a second to recover from the shock but you manage to look at him and tell him that you'll be alright.

He doesn't want to take any chances and picks you up bridal style to carry you to your bags, he has a cold flask and he insists you press it against your stomach. After a while the pain subsides and you smile at him. He still feels bad so he offers you some food and pulls you in for a hug.

Belphie

You have to go to RAD but Belphie is still sleeping and it's your turn to wake him up. You know how people hit their alarms, well Belphie does that to you. He hit's you on the head and turns to his other side. It takes him a couple of seconds but when he realizes he hit you he practically jumps out off bed.

"MC, you know better than to wake me like that! Are you alright?" He asks suddenly wide awake. You nod and he helps you to your feet. He looks at your head and notices he left a bump. He feels bad because he already killed you once and now he has hurt you again.

He checks on you during the day to see if your head is fine and when you get home he gives you an ointment that should help with the bump.

[i-need-air]

After seeing your marriage hc’s I’d like to request hc’s of Hawks, Aizawa, Bakugo, and Shinsou reacting to their wife’s water breaking prematurely and at random. Mainly like everyone’s at a party and having a good time and suddenly someone’s like “Y/N, did you spill something?” Y/N:*doesn’t have a drink on her so she’s confused until she looks down and realizes what happened* OH-

💀💀💀💀 ok but all these guys' babies coming out whenever they foken want is a headcanon by itself, like we all know they'd be like their fathers coming and going whenever they feel like and that kills me akjdksjsj this ask made me laugh so hard but omg i felt the embarrassment when writing, send help I—

Hawks:

× your due date was approaching quickly and Hawks was so attentive it hurt

× you had to insist to go out with you friends because bird-brain was getting very worried/protective

× you finally came to an agreement: lowkey party at your house BUT you're not moving a finger

× like you could; Keigo would jump up and grab anything for you and for everyone else

× the good thing is that you ordered takeout and your friends brought goodies, much like Hawks himself so you just sat and talked with everyone while he looked at you with stars in his eyes

× everyone was talking about your future baby and just celebrating the new life about to come around and I swear, this man's feathers puffed proudly every single time

× you had such a great time, enjoying the laughter and good energy you were surrounded by when you got thirsty

× Keigo was in the kitchen, his feathers bringing some sweets for everyone in the living room so you got up [ struggled to ] and headed towards his direction

× Mirko was the one that pointed it out as she was assigned the duty to follow you around [ while she made fun of Keigo for being a mama hen but ok ]

× "Hey, [Y/N], did you drop something on you...?"

× you couldn't even see bc of your belly but you definitely heard a crash in the kitchen and some rushed steps

× as fast as humanly possible, your husband was by your side wide eyed

× "What happened?" he asked trying to be casual but his eyes roamed over you until they landed under your feet...

× "I didn't drop anything, I just wanted some water—"

× "You should have told me, birdie. Wait... Where did you get the water then?"

× "I didn't...?"

× everyone kinda stared confused until one of your friends started panicking because the heroes there were just confused???

× "Wait, you broke waters!"

× "oh, right" you mutter while honey colored eyes stare at you in shock

× how did you both forget about that? you talked about it some days ago, like—

× Panic! Hidden by a casual attitude

× meanwhile now you're embarrassed because what the hell, mini-bird?

× he orders his feathers to clean around but fails miserably while trying to grab clothes for your hospital stay

× your friends have to calm him down as they offered to help clean up and you're just embarrassed because c'mon, man

× i swear, this man does it in a rush anyway and asks everyone to keep calm [ 🙄 ] while he takes his little angel to the hospital

× car ride? lmfao have fun flying, this is an eMeRgEnCy [ trust me, you're always safe with him, no doubt of that ]

× you try to open your mouth but he's just reassuring you; "You're doing amazing, angel."; "Just a little longer and we're there!"; meanwhile you haven't fucking changed your wet clothes and were getting annoyed

× bursts into the hospital like he owns it

× guess who's sent back home and told to come back when the contraptions get stronger? mhm.

× you almost smack him bc he literally gave you no time to talk once you're back at home

× he's a dumb bird but he's your dumb bird 💕

× [ your friends stayed to clean up the dishes just to easen your burden so you find them there when you come back. they had a great time laughing at your husband before they left you with the promise they'll visit asap at the hospital ]

× honestly he's normally very calm and calculating but this time around the nervousness of being a father got to him, so please forgive him

Aizawa Shouta:

× the most chill of them all and that's very reassuring for someone who is pregnant

× you've promised him you'd take things easy and not force yourself to do much

× and even if you wanted to, honestly you couldn't

× but he's been such an amazing person to you, made you lunches, gave you back massages, did all the tough tasks around the house 🥺 so when he forgot his lunch at home, rare of him, you wanted to surprise him, completely forgetting the school had one of the best chef in the world;;;

× your body was screaming for some fresh air too so you decided to go towards U.A.

× it wasn't a long walk, really, since he had to be close to the school anyway

× so when you arrived at mid-day the first person to greet you was principal Nezu and trust me, he was so excited to see you after so long!

× he accompanied you to the teachers' room where they had all their desks already knowing he would be there shortly

× you greet All Might, which beamed to see you and started a small conversation

× the bell rang, indicated class finished and lunchbreak starter which made you excited to know you'll see your husband shortly

× and you knew he was approaching when a loud voice could be heard on the hallways

× the door opened, Shouta and Yamada walking in, the blond talking excitedly until it stopped

× "[Y/N], so good to see you!" He screamed

× Shouta's eyes snapped towards you in surprise and he walked to you in a faster pace than before

× he ignored everyone else as he scolded you "Didn't we agree you'd take it easy?"

× "Well, good to see you too" 😒😤

× a quick banter takes over you two as you hugged Hizashi and handled your husband his lunch

× "You should sit down" Nezu suggested and you started to feel the ache of walking, so you moved towards one of the chairs with Aizawa's help

× "Seriously, you're more stubborn than my students" he'd mutter, nudging your shoulder slightly, all through a smile

× but before you could reach the chair you felt it, the water running from between your legs;;;

× you gripped his hand harshly and Hizashi screamed

× "What tHe HeLL diD I STEP ON?!???"

× the mf was following you two suggesting to eat lunch together and?????

× ok, so everyone freezes until Nezu clears his throat;;;

× "I'll call Chiyo, you two wait right here!" he escapes, All Might somehow on his toes

× you turn your head towards Aizawa horrified about to suggest cleaning the mess up before getting ready to leave when...

× "WAIT, I STEPPED ON BABY JUICE!?"

× Recovery Girl came around but was pleased to know both of you were prepared for this moment, although she did have to wake Hizashi up, since he fainted; Shouta, being the big boy he is, cleaned the floor without making a big deal out of it

× at the end of the day all you could do was smile before realizing what's about to come; your baby will be surrounded by amazing people and it's all that mattered

Bakugou Katsuki:

× this guy prepares in secret; don't question all the baby books you find sneaked around the house like it's not your damned home too but whatever;;;

× Bakugou is very protective over you, he also takes charge of everything, which makes you feel bad bc you seriously feel like you can't do anything anymore

× it happened at the Bakugou household [ your in laws excitedly invited you over the phone but also suggested that they could drop by if you weren't in conditions to go there ]

× you put your foot down and said you would, knowing it would freak your husband out and guess what? it did

× but you really wanted to go out, you felt extremely bored and babied at home and were in need of social interactions

× "I swear I married the most stubborn dumbass ever—" he'd mutter as he drove you both there

× dinner was amazing, as always, and Mitsuki was making it even better by telling you funny stories from Katsuki's childhood, earning scoffs from him

× the normal arguments started and you were gently escorted by Masaru to the living room, both ignoring the banter happening by the dining table

× he joked around with you when you felt a kick saying he can definitely tell who the kid will take from, as if your baby wanted to participate in the argument too

× anyway you stopped mid-track saying you wanted to go to the bathroom; you really felt like going all of a sudden

× when you started heading towards there [ Katsuki chiming in asking if you need help, wtf ], you knew

× i mean, everyone knew;; your water broke, but want to know what else broke too? hell. hell broke loose

× "What are you staring at?! Go help [Y/N]!"

× "I know, old hag!" He rushed to you as Mitsuki went to grab some cleaning supplies

× you're apologizing profusely but you're brushed off instantly

× "No big deal, [Y/N], everything will be okay" Masaru, bless him, was by your side as his son went to grab the bag he has prepared in secret from the car

× you ended up going all together to the hospital as contraptions increased

× Katsuki was on your side reciting word by word what's going to happen, remembering the parenting books by memory; it was making you roll your eyes at them because yes, you knew;

× "Did you fucking tell her to push?" Mitsuki screamed

× "I—! SHUT THE TELL UP!" he screamed back then turned to you, telling you to breathe to just freeze in place

× both shut up as you glared at them;

× it seems the new Bakugou member really wanted to take part of the argument for before 💀

Hitoshi Shinsou:

× life was finally settling between you two

× his career, even if it was focused underground, was rocketing up, he was married to an amazing person and you were having a beautiful baby together? Shinsou was a happy man

× you both talked about how to deal when time comes and everything was settled, you even had a suitcase ready for the hospital stay

× he was so attentive 🥺

× anyway your friends suggested to see you before the big day comes and you agreed it had to be now because as your due day approached, you wanted to be home

× so you went to a small restaurant near your house to meet Izuku, Uraraka and Denki, as the days before you met your families and other friends

× Ochako got you an insane amount of gifts, Izuku was reading about parenthood idk why 💀 and Denki was just patting Shinsou's back congratulating him again and again

× you had a great time to say at least

× you snorted at Denki when he touched your belly and got a kick in response

× "Just like his father, ready to put you in place" Uraraka smiled, patting the blond on the back whike Shinsou grabbed your hand with a smirk

× but you froze in place as you smiled back because you felt it

× and dripping water could be heard

× did you just—?

× Shinsou caught on instantly on your discomfort and talked even before you could

× "What's wrong?" while you looked down, which his gaze followed

× Ok, this man is gonna stop functioning for a second, it is what it is

× meanwhile you're mortified because YOU'RE IN A RESTAURANT, YOU'RE REGULARS HERE AND YOU FUCKING BROKE WATERS HERE

× you got up in a rush yet he's faster

× everyone catches up and they all start to be frantic [ specially poor Denki ]

× the old lady that owns the restaurant comes by and has to be the one to calm the group while you apologize profusely

× she shushes you saying she's had four children, she understands completely

× Shinsou offers to help clean up, so do you, Izuku is startled in a corner being comforted by the brunette and Denki... he's fucking calling an ambulance—?????? Good thing your husband grabbed his phone before he started talking...

× but at the end you're both reassured everything is taken care of as long as you promise to bring the bundle of sunshine around the restaurant as soon as possible

× you're definitely not crying;;;

× anyway he just takes you home and helps you start taking note of the contraptions while getting everything ready to go

× honestly you were scared and so was he, but he stood by your side all the time whispering how amazing you're doing

× the restaurant owners greeted you like you were family afterwards so it's all water under the bridge— k I'll leave 💀

[saphirered]

I Don’t Hate You (Vagrant pt3.)

The lady at the front desk gives you a dirty look as you come straggling in, leaving a wet trail behind you, boots sopping with an equally disgruntled expression on your face. You toss her a coin, if only to be done with it all and go back up the stairs. There you see, Fjord is no longer sitting in the hallway and probably either has gotten himself a room of his own or Molly’s taken mercy upon the half-orc and let him sleep peacefully and undisturbed in their shared room. A sense of dread still lingers as you approach your door and you take a sip from the opened bottle in your hand, hoping to find some courage to push you over the edge and just get it over with. You can see the hint of orange light bleeding through the small gap. 

When the door opens Caleb looks up from his book, or well, your book. You look like an absolute mess and he knows you know you do. It’s an unspoken agreement to not comment on this fact made in that brief moment of eye contact, for both of your sakes. 

“Do not question my terrible life’s choices, Widogast.” You grumble as you let yourself fall backwards on your bed. You don’t even have the energy to magic away the remainders of the rain that kept you company from your soaked person. Well, that or the fact that the droplets rolling down your skin hid the tears from the panic attack and brief existential crisis you had on that rooftop before you came down. 

Caleb puts down the book, gets up from the bed and slowly and carefully inches over to your side of the room. He hesitantly sits down on the edge. You have half the mind to kick him off just because but can’t find the energy to do so. Despite your distaste for magic users like him, being alone after your mental breakdown you just experienced, really sucks. Caleb pats your knee awkwardly in an attempt to comfort but not wanting to cross any boundaries. It’s pathetic, he knows because one can hardly fix a stab wound by slapping on a bandaid. His own past experiences have left him a tad bit at a loss when it comes to comforting a person in pain, especially one so stubborn and crass as you have been towards him. 

Still, Caleb has figured out your hatred isn’t directed at him personally. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s people with abilities like him that have played a part in your past causing you pain and suffering and the wound is still very fresh, hence your trauma being reflected onto him, despite his complete lack of involvement in your before the moment you met. It may not have helped that your hostility towards him hasn’t exactly encouraged him to try and build a proper relationship with you. He hardly even knows you yet still he feels as if he knows your tells, the things you go through and why you act like you do. He may not know the details of your life but he feels safe to say he knows you better than any of the others. 

It’s not his lack of knowledge and insight into your life beyond what’s surface and what he can read off you that holds him back. It’s the fear of what he might find within you that will tear open wounds of his own he’s worked so hard to cover up. It’s the fear you might be one step ahead of him in a similar story and there is no hope for people like you and him after all. It’s the fear those you run from are the same people he has tried so hard to escape. It’s the fear of you, that you might be each others’ salvation, or undoing because he knows what he has the capability to become, what you could become. 

But here you lie, upon your bed curled up, traces of tears long since fallen, possibly even ran out, tightness in your throat, indents of your nails in your palms from clenching too much, frustration and anger in your eyes is still overwhelmed by pain and hopelessness and a wish the void would just come and claim you, where you no longer fear the consequences of running and will be able to obliterate those who caused you so much hurt, or die trying in the process. Caleb is reminded of himself in that cell of his own, for years, a broken mind piecing itself together from the shambles it was left in, barely a shell of what it used to be. 

When he promised himself he would do anything and everything in his power to take down these tormentors and their accomplices so no one would ever have to suffer like he had, still is suffering, Caleb didn’t expect to find you. He still remembers himself begging, praying, screaming just to not be alone, to have someone tell him there is still hope and not all is lost. There’s still good in this wretched world and if the world turns bleak, it’s up to you to be that good despite everything. Those were the pretty words and empty promises of a dreamer but does that make them a lie? 

“Don’t patronise me. I’m not some fragile broken child in need of mothering.” Caleb retreats his hand, clasping them together in his lap as he studies your face. Your eyes are cold, your expression matching. A mask, he knows. A way to protect yourself. 

“Good. Because I have no intention of doing so. I want you to be blunt and truthful and I don’t want you to hold back. I want you to humour me and answer some questions.” You raise an eyebrow expecting there to be something behind Caleb’s request but his stare is unreadable, like a practiced mask of his own. 

“You want me to be blunt and give you a peace of my mind?” You humour. You’ll tell the asshole okay. You’ll bicker and fight and quarrel if that’s what he wants no problem. Maybe a battle of wits and words will get you back into your groove. 

Little do you know that is in fact not what Caleb is looking for. Not exactly. He isn’t looking for a fight. He’s looking for answers, how to help you despite your differences because no one deserves to go through this, especially not alone. So because of that, he will not humour you in turn with his usual reply to your attempts to push him. He doesn’t intend this to end in another futile empty argument. Not now. So he’ll drop the game and go straight for the jugular. 

“Why do you hate me?” You freeze at the abrupt and sudden question. Caleb knows you don’t really hate him personally but coddling you won’t work and some things you’ll have to realise by yourself first. Finding the strength to lean up on your elbows you tilt your head at him as a half smirk creeps upon your lips.

“Because you’re an egotistical self-serving bastard who cares for nothing but himself and the people useful to him, until they outlive their usefulness.” The words are meant to cut like knives and usually you’d get a rise out of Caleb by such a statement but when you don’t see any response to your words, nothing but those blue eyes staring into yours so… unbothered, it feels as if those knives are turned onto you instead. You’re not quick enough to get rid of that tiny hint of guilt slithering across your features. 

“Why do you hate me?” Caleb asks again, voice still calm like it’s the most unremarkable question ever. He could have asked you about the weather with that tone. 

“Because you’re an asshole.” 

“Why do you hate me?” 

“Seriously? I already gave you an answer. Was I not clear the first time?” That guilt in your stomach starts growing, festering. There’s something in your mind pushing through but you try to fight it off, not liking the thought of being faced with those emotions. You’ve worked too hard to push them away. 

“Just answer the question. Why do you hate me?” Caleb sees you struggle. Your first answers where in the blink of an eye, a defence mechanism slipping into place. That works, for a while, until it doesn’t, until you start questioning it and give yourself a moment to think.

“Because…” Because you’re a coward. Because you run from your problems. Because you leave other people to swipe up the mess for you. Because you’re a monster to blame for the pain of others. Because you’re to blame for your own pain. Because you couldn’t save them. Because. Because. Because. Those are not reasons you hate Caleb. You take in a sharp breath, clenching your jaw in anger, nose scrunching holding at bay the curses from passing your lips and the threat of all your emotions from spilling out like a breaking dam. 

“Why do you hate me?” The words now, do not sound void of emotion, but instead are filled with a warmth and pity. Damn him! Damn him to the hells and abyss! When you don’t answer he repeats it again. Caleb gives you amicable time to answer, leaving a long silence to give your mind the time and space to think for itself, analyse and process and you hate every second of it because you can’t stop it. The cracks in the walls you’ve tried to hard to build become more apparent by the second. He asks again. 

“I don’t bloody hate you!” You shout, pretty sure you may just have woken up the entire floor. The silence after the words leave your lips is deafening. 

“Then what do you hate about me that causes you to act the way you do?” Your hands clench back into fists, your nails pressing down again in the still tender skin from but minutes ago. You don’t want to say it. You really don’t but that pain raging through your body wants to get out and you feel the floodgates opening inch by inch despite your efforts to fight it. Then there’s that voice in the back of your mind; maybe speaking the unspoken will give you some peace. 

“I don’t hate you! I just hate what your remind me of. It’s like you’re here to personally torture me so please just leave me alone to suffer, get over it and move on.” You don’t want to remember the last time you pleaded for something, and had hoped to never plead for anything again yet here you are. 

“I am going to give you a choice and I’ll only offer it once, so listen very carefully.” You’ve never seen Caleb look so intense, so genuine, and so determined. You can’t do anything but listen so you nod, signalling him to continue and that you’re paying attention to his every word and not to twist them for your own amusement for once. Whatever previous relation, or rather lack thereof you’ve had is gone now. There’s only you two, in a place of vulnerability and without judgement. 

“You’ve got two options. One; you tell me to piss off, like you usually do. I’ll go back to bed, back to sleep and leave you alone. We will never speak of this again, never mention this and go our separate ways. We will remain cordial when interacting and won’t let our own grievances get in the way of the others.” You take in the words, nodding to confirm you understand. 

“Or two; you and I are going to talk. You are going to tell me what you wish, and can tell me provided it’s the truth and I will listen. If you wish to tell me your life story I will listen. If you wish to tell me all your troubles I will listen. If you wish to share your pain, I will listen. And know that I will help you if you’ll allow me to. Because if you keep doing this on your own, let the guilt and grief and pain swallow you whole, I know exactly where it will lead. Do not allow it to be your undoing, or turn you into a person beyond your recognition.” Midway through his offer your eyes have closed and your brow furrows. You bit your lip and that combined with the movement of your eyes behind your eyelids are the only indication to Caleb you’re still listening to him. 

Caleb gives you time. He doesn’t expect an answer right away. That’s not how this works but he does study you, attempting to get an inkling of what’s going through your mind. He feels warmth wrap around his wrist, glancing down to notice your fingers have wrapped around it and hold on tightly. You’re holding onto a lifeline and he knows it. 

“Why?” Your, words a pained choke, you don’t dare open your eyes, don’t trust the look in Caleb’s eyes to tear down what last defences you had up and turning you into even more of a broken mess. 

“Because despite what people might have you believe, there is still good in this world.” You’re unable to stifle a sob, feeling a tear slide down your cheek. 

“I’ve not known much kindness in my life but I feel confident in saying this is the kindest thing anyone has ever offered me. It’s why my pervious actions and words towards you make me feel like an absolute ass even more. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive me.” You release Caleb’s wrist, feeling grounded once more despite the buzzing in your head and twiddle with your fingers awaiting a response, the tense air slowly lifting as you sit in peace and silence. 

You nod, wiping at the corners of your eyes before you open them, a bit more red and puffy than they were before you entered the room. You finally look at the wizard and take in a deep breath before nodding again. If it were anyone else, any other moment you might have said no. You’d even have laughed at whoever tried this emotional shit on you. But it’s time. You’re not getting any better nor can you repress everything forever. It’s time to face some of these troubles head on. Luckily you won’t have to do it on your own. It will take time and effort and it’s going to hurt like hell but it has to be done. You have to move on and learn how to live. You owe it to yourself, if not the people you’ve left behind. 

“Now this doesn’t mean we’re going to be best friends from now on. You’re still an asshole and so am I so don’t think I’ll let you off easy for your comments and the trouble you cause.” The corner of Caleb’s lips turns up slightly as he speaks and you mimic his expression.

“I don’t think anyone else could handle it, so I’m sorry to disappoint but you’re definitely stuck with me, Widogast.” You muster a smile, exhausted. It’s mutually understood the conversation as per your agreement won’t happen right here, right now but instead when you’re both ready. For now, at least you won’t pretend to hate each other anymore and start over. 

“Hey, Caleb?” You ask.

“Yes?” He answers but before he knows it your arms wrap around him and pull him into your embrace. Caleb’s form goes rigid shocked by not only the gesture but by the physical touch itself. After a good few moments he finds himself ease just a little, enough to return the embrace lightly.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

[choicesarehard]

I keep my streams about Wolf Bride light-hearted. It’s been a hell of a year, and I think we all need a space where we can laugh together. But part of responsibly consuming problematic media is being aware of where it fails. And that’s why I think it’s important to talk about Morgan, and Wolf Bride’s troubling depiction of blindness. 

Morgan is one of the first Love Interests in Choices to have a canon disability. She is representation many players with disabilities, like myself, are eager for. But like any form of representation, writing a blind character requires research. A quick google search will lead you to numerous visually impaired voices who outline the tropes and stereotypes that harm their community. Wolf Bride has included nearly all of them. 

signal boosts are appreciated

Not All Blind People Wear Sunglasses

Morgan is shown wearing dark sunglasses from the moment she appears on screen. And there are certainly blind people who wear sunglasses — particularly those who (unlike Morgan) can still perceive some degree of light and dark, and experience painful light sensitivity. But no context is ever giving for Morgan’s use of sunglasses. In fact, they aren’t even addressed for four chapters. 

[ID: Two screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box over a forest background, and reads “You glance at Morgan, and are surprised to see the dark glasses still covering her eyes.” The second features a labeled image of her sunglasses, placed over a black background, with a selectable button that reads “What does Morgan look like without these?”] What follows is a scene Pixelberry could have used to provide insight into an assistive device the sighted community may not be entirely familiar with. They could have touched on degrees of visual impairment, or why some blind individuals need dark lenses while others don’t. They could even have explained that for some individuals with visual impairments, dark lenses make tasks like reading or navigating dimly lit spaces harder.  Instead, and far more troublingly, MC is given the option to ask Morgan not to wear them anymore. And depending on your choice, the book is coded to remove the sunglasses from her sprite in future scenes. This reduces an assistive device to a fashion choice, something our MC can wish away if they don’t find it attractive. And that isn’t okay. 

Unusual Eyes

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a forest background that reads “With a start, you realize her pale eyes aren’t looking at you, aren’t seeing you, aren’t seeing anything.” The second features Morgan’s sad sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “...I’ve been blind since birth.”] Morgan has a customizable sprite. But regardless of the ethnicity you select for her, she is depicted with pale blue eyes. And that troubles me. Because the stereotype that all blind individuals have cloudy, distorted, or unusual eyes is pervasive and harmful. 

Even when it isn’t tied to another harmful trope — the blind character as mystical seer or psychic — this stereotype create an expectation that blindness is something that always manifests in a visible way. And for millions of blind individuals, that isn’t the case. 

And while cataracts, trauma to the eye, and corneal infections can all cause the clouded effect most of us recognize from media, none turn your brown eyes into blue.  Heightened Senses

Another common stereotype in media is the blind character who’s remaining senses have become heightened as a compensatory mechanism, often to a supernatural degree.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features Morgan’s surprised sprite in a forest setting and a text box that reads “I guess I sort of...feel things. Like the place on my cheek where the branch blocked the wind.” The second features Morgan’s neutral sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “I can smell the dew on the leaves, and the moss on the bark. Can’t you?] Individuals with visual impairment may learn to rely on their other senses to navigate the world around them. But they do not suddenly gain the ability to sense the location of a branch based on wind patterns, or to accurately throw a dart at a carnival game ballon based on its smell. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a carnival background that reads “Pop! Pop! Pop! Three darts fly through the air, striking their targets.” The second features the white MC with straight blonde hair. Her sprite is surprised, and beneath it is a text box that reads “So you did that by smell, too?]

This trope may seem harmless — after all, it gave us Daredevil, a beloved blind superhero — but it contributes to the unachievable expectations we often place on real-world individuals with visually impairments. And that isn’t fair. 

Of course, we all suspected Morgan’s abilities were due to something other than heightened senses. And that in and of itself is a problem. 

Magical / Supernatural Abilities

To the surprise of no one, Morgan exhibits these unusual abilities because she is a werewolf. But choosing to give a blind character magical abilities should only be done after asking yourself some challenging questions. As visually-impaired Tumblr user @mimzy-writing-online explains:

Your blind characters don’t need a magical ability that negates their blindness. [Ask yourself why it’s so important to you to give them one]. If it’s because they can’t do all the things you want them to do without it, then should you really have written them as blind in the first place? 

And that’s the thing. Morgan isn’t actually written as a blind character, not when it counts. Morgan shoots bullets with accuracy, runs through unfamiliar terrain, and navigates moving objects with ease. She doesn’t use common assistive devices like canes or screen readers. Her sunglasses are discarded at MC’s request. The scientific papers that fill her research facility are not digitized for accessibility or written in braille. 

Even her dreams, which should be reflections of how she perceives reality, look identical to Bastien's — which makes no sense for someone who has been canonically blind since birth. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapters Five and Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a scene from Morgan’s lucid dream. Set in a glamorous hotel, it includes visual details like twinkling lights, and patterned carpets. The color is tinted a grey-blue and the exposure on the image has been increased to an unnatural level. The second features a scene from Bastien’s lucid dream. Set in a forest, it shares the same tinted and over-exposed qualities as the first.]

Her blindness isn’t an integral part of her character. Instead, it’s a narrative device, paraded in front of the reader when it can further a central — and deeply disturbing — plot point. [content warning: discussion of discrimination and child abuse / abandonment ahead]  Morgan Was Left to Die Because She Was Blind 

And Jesus, what a plot point it is. In Chapter 11, we learn that Morgan was left to die in the woods because she was born “wrong, sickly, blind.” But the only canonical disability or illness she is ever shown to have is her blindness. 

[ID: Three side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first two feature the white MC with straight blonde hair’s shocked sprite in front of a forest background. The first text box reads “I don’t understand...” followed by two dialogue options “Why was Morgan abandoned?” and “Is that what you do to full moon babies? Kill them?” The second panel’s read box reads “Just because she was blind?” The third panel features  the old woman Noemi’s sad sprite, placed over a forest background. Her text box reads “If we know an infant will not survive, it is best to let it die quickly.”]

I...am frankly having a hard time thinking through the screenshot-induced fury to make a coherent argument here. To imply that blindness is an impairment so limiting that death is the only foreseeable outcome? That being born blind somehow makes a child “wrong”? The ignorance and prejudice shown in this scene is staggering. 

But equally troubling is the response of the main characters to this revelation. Yes, in fiction, bad people sometimes do bad things. But Noemi isn’t shown to be a bad person. Neither is Bastien, who knew what his pack had been guilty of in the past, and even seeks to justify it to a limited degree. 

Most shockingly, Morgan herself, who in the second screenshot below has just overheard that she was left to die as an infant because she is blind, isn’t angry or upset. She’s almost apologetic, still seeking a place within the pack. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first features Hispanic Bastien’s sad sprite in front of a forest background. The text box beneath him reads “It doesn’t happen often, Clara, but...” The second features white Morgan’s sad sprite in front of the same forest background. The text box beneath her reads “I didn’t mean any harm. Especially after...what I just overheard.”]

By introducing the idea that a child born blind cannot survive, let alone thrive, without superhuman abilities, and then failing to soundly and thoroughly refute that idea through the characters we identify with, Pixelberry is unintentionally perpetuating the same false beliefs that have led to real-world instances of infanticide for centuries. And that isn’t okay. 

I don’t know where Pixelberry will go with the story from here. Perhaps in today’s chapter some of these concerns have been addressed...but I doubt it. In the meantime, I’ve also written to their support staff to express my deep concern and disappointment in the treatment of Morgan’s character. And I’d encourage you to do the same. 

Will I continue to keep streaming Wolf Bride? For now, yes. My VIP subscription is already paid for, and frankly, I want to see Morgan’s arc through. I guess the small part of me that was excited for the representation is still hopeful the narrative can be corrected. 

But I’ll be adding a content warning at the start of each stream for ablism, and that’s something I never thought I’d have to do.  Screenshots courtesy of CrimsonFeatherGames on Youtube