#honestly this agenda is awful and unfair

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Let’s talk: the Vmin “no on screen interaction = no bond” Paradox

by Admin 1 & 2

One of the reasons that are usually stated for why people are so insistent on their claims that Jimin and Tae supposedly aren’t close anymore, that their friendship is nothing but PR for Friends, and that the whole “soulmate agenda” is fake as well, boils down to the statement of “we rarely or never see them interact on screen, no touching, no talking, nothing”. We find this both misleading, since it isn’t true, but also disrespectful, since it means that the only way in which some are able to accept closeness between the members as real and valid is if they see it, nothing else. So, just because you don’t see it through grand physical touches, hugs and whatnot, does that mean if they speak about each other, for example, that doesn’t count? 

You could argue that the power of pictures is greater than that of words, but to that I would like to ask: do they owe us visual proof of their closeness when we already have so much that shows how truly close Jimin and Tae are, how much they care about each other and how much work across years they’ve willingly and eagerly put into their bond for it to grow as deep and beautiful as it is?

As a way to showcase how misleading the screen time = friendship/closeness argument is, especially in connection to Jimin and Tae, I’d like for us to look at two different instances: Black Swan MV (the MV Sketch as well as the “opera” b*omb and the basket ball b*omb) and the Jingle Ball 2019 EPISODE.

Let’s start with the videos surrounding Black Swan below the cut:

Around that time I saw a lot, and I mean a lot, of chatter (mostly negative) about vmin since a very loud portion of the fandom were very up in arms after we got Friends. Not only did it solidify their preconceived notion that they are just friends, because the song is titled like that and none of them really cared enough to check the lyrics, but also because it opened up a whole new discussion about “but like, are they really friends?” To which, of course, their answer was mostly “no”. It’s just PR, they actually don’t really like each other, they barely interact, we see nothing of them, both interact way more with the other members, you know the drill. So when the MV Sketch for Black Swan came out it was, once again, like more “am/munition” for their arguments.

The thing we find laughable though is this expectation of “ship moments” in a video that’s literally about the filming of their music video, most of the scenes showing said filming happening though there’s also a few scenes of the members interacting. But, at the core, this isn’t like a bangtan b*mb of them hanging out backstage waiting for something or another where it makes sense that we’d see them interact a lot and be silly, instead it’s a video in which their focus (as well as ours should be) is on filming and giving the best performance they can so the MV turns out amazing, which it did. They are doing their work, not enjoying their free time. When you’re at work, do you really spend the majority of your time playing around with your friends? No, you do your job, the thing you get paid for doing.

The first few times I watched the video, I was so captivated by the theatre and their dancing, their mindset and performance, I didn’t even really notice any of their interactions or pay attention to who interacted with who or who did not. Guess my priorities and expectations are simply a bit different when watching a music video being filmed...

So what was the conclusion people drew? While Jimin and Tae are both close to JK and the other member, they are not close to each other, they don’t even particularly like each other. It was a narrative I saw repeated across various sns and, really, while it made me sad, I also wasn’t surprised. It’s nothing new that people treat vmin in such a manner.

Then, months later we got two Bangtan B*mbs from the same time and surprise, surprise Jimin and Tae did interact, a lot even, in ways that show how attuned with each other they are, how easy it is for them to fall into one of their role-plays or just be silly together, how gentle and thoughtful of the other they are, and how much they enjoy doing something together, regardless of what it is.

The first, posted October 1st 2020, showed Tae playing basket ball while Jimin and JK sat off to the side and watched him. Like you can see in the above pictures, eventually Jimin joined Tae and they played together for most of the video. Since the sun was shining at them, Tae stood before Jimin and raised his hands so the shadow fell onto Jimin’s eyes and he could see better, later on doing the same for Tae. It’s a small thing and yet it shows they care about each other. At some point Jimin pretended that he’ll be leaving, twice, and yet he stayed and they played some more. Toward the end of the video Namjoon joins them and eventually vmin leave and Namjoon stays behind and plays with Seokjin before the video ends.

Based on all that you’d assume the people who, seven months earlier, claimed vmin are essentially estranged and barely even like each other would reconsider, but of course not. Despite the focus being largely on them across the entire video, many comments by non-vminies (and non-namjinists) I saw on sns were about Tae playing on his own, Jimin and JK sitting off to the side together, and Namjoon playing with Seokjin. 

The second video was posted October 24th 2020 and began with Jimin pretending he’s an opera singer, which Tae noticed and immediately joined in, since we know this is the sort of thing Tae enjoys doing, even occasionally turning their own songs and lyrics into opera style to make the other members laugh. This sets off this entire sequence of Tae and Jimin singing different things, JK also joining in for a moment, and then vmin ending on that sweet moment of Jimin standing behind Tae with his hands covering Tae’s eyes before concluding that “it’s hard to play with him”. And yet, even if it’s hard, can we talk about these two screenshots of Jimin fondly watching Tae and looking like he can’t wait until his stylist is done so he can go join him? Adorable.

But again, even here while the focus is on vmin for a large portion of the video, this fact was largely omitted and instead people zeroed in on moments in which Tae was alone, Tae or Jimin interacted with JK, and Tae singing with Namjoon and Seokjin. It seems to me like the council of “how valid is a friendship” decided on their opinion months prior and stuck with it even if it meant, as always, to just ignore vmin interactions in favor of other things while at the same time spreading the “vmin are not friends because they don’t interact” agenda to anyone who’ll listen.

Generally I don’t really care all that much for all the chatter happening among parts of ARMY, but seeing these comments belittling and erasing the bond Jimin and Tae have, regardless if you see it as platonic or potentially romantic, is just really hard to read sometimes. Not even because I’m a vminnie, but simply because they are erasing something that is so important to both Tae and Jimin, this bond they have with each other they themselves spoke so much about, showed so much of, and yet people refuse to accept it, like they have any right to make such judgements about their bond.

The second example I’d like to show is Jingle Ball 2019 in LA and how deceptive, paradoxical and misleading the no screen time = no bond agenda really is.

For context, the Jingle Ball happened some time in December 2019, the same month as when we got the vmin “let’s take a half bath together” while holding hands during Seokjin’s birthday vlive happened, meaning a time when Jimin and Tae were just as close as ever, even occasionally giving us glimpses into their bond, giggling together and being all smiles. Also the same month as the famous holding hands because we think no one sees us anymore moment at the airport.

On July 22nd 2020 we got the EPISODE showing the behind the scenes of the Jingle Ball performance. It’s 11 minutes long and includes the BWL performance with Halsey, but largely shows the members getting ready, practicing their English and being excited to perform. If we focus solely on vmin then sure, I’ll agree that there were no interactions between those two whatsoever, not a usual or out of the ordinary thing, and not something I see any kind of problem in. They don’t owe us interactions in every piece of content. And yet, as always, it just added fuel to everyones favorite agenda that vmin are not close, ignoring all the prior time frame context we established previously. But who cares, they didn’t interact in this 11 minute video therefore they definitely didn’t interact at all and now hate each other.

Jokes on those people because of course that isn’t true.

Excuse the rather mediocre quality of those pictures, I tried my best with the screenshots taken from a video taken by a fan (one of many) who got to see BTS behind the scenes before going on stage from the stands further up. There’s this video on twt that shows just vmin and then I found a longer version in this person’s vlog (around the 7:25 min mark and onward). You can check both and confirm that it really is vmin in those screenshots. Also, as memory refresher, Jimin was the only one with a black collar and shirt along with blond hair. Namjoon stands further away and can be seen in the three lower pictures.

So, what does this tell us? Easy--just because it wasn’t shown in a condensed and edited video it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Just because Jimin and Tae don’t show us things on screen, or the editors don’t use scenes where it can be seen, it doesn’t mean that it’s an accurate representation of their actual, real life bond. They weren’t in the EPISODE but hugged and walked together off camera.

Notice how this agenda merely applies to vmin, how their bond, their soulmate status and closeness is the only one that gets questioned at every possible moment. When Seokjin said that Yoongi feels like his soulmate nowadays in an episode of In The SOOP no one questioned his words and accepted them as true, because he said so himself and we should believe their sincerity when they say these things. And yet when it comes to vmin, the rules are entirely different.

This was a post brought to you by Admin 2 coming across yet another thread on twt filled with ARMY claiming outlandish things about vmin and their bond and getting annoyed.

[pourcap]

thoughts: cp chapter 9

ahhh i'm happy torveld wants to treat erasmus right :')

it must feel so so so awful for damen to know that there's not a single person in the world (other than the ones who have conspired against damen) who knows he's alive. there's no one looking for him. he's all on his own.

oh jokaste is pregnant?? so... did she cheat on damen with kastor or had damen and her already been broken up by the time he was sent to vere?

'(...) you resemble Kastor a little. It’s something in the eyes. In the shape of the face. The more I look at you—' oh god

'The Regent is open to friendship with Akielos, but Laurent... (...)' just hearing the regent's name makes me wanna throw up now

honestly a lot of things about nicaise makes sense now :(

Considering Nicaise’s loyalties, it was strange that Laurent had seemed drawn to him (...) i suppose laurent wants to help nicaise? that's why he suggested the offer once nicaise's time with the regent is up, right? and maybe he sees a bit of himself in nicaise, since they're so similar...?

Laurent’s fussy horse began acting out again, and he leaned forward in the saddle, murmuring something as he stroked her neck in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture to quiet her. okay he can be cute sometimes </3

It was wasteful of nature to have bestowed those looks on one whose character was so unpleasant. Laurent’s fair skin and blue eyes were a combination that was (...) a particular weakness of Damen’s. The golden hair made it worse. i love damen getting worked up about laurent's beauty

'Can’t afford a good horse?’ said Damen. idk but maybe it would be a good idea to stop being so incredibly snarky every single time you talk to laurent if you're already scared he's too close to finding out who you are !!!

He was wearing a short tunic in Patran style that exposed his arms and legs, (...), Damen looked nowhere else. i feel like damen has spent 80% of the time annoyed/angry/disgusted and 20% of it (reluctantly, if it's laurent) horny

'(...) it would be awful, but that if I was brave, something good might come at the end of it.' ohhhh. that's sweet of laurent. i don't know if there's a hidden agenda, but it's nice he warned erasmus

‘You’re—in love with him?’ ‘Not quite,’ said Damen. erasmus is sooo pure :( (also i can imagine exactly what damen's face looked like when he said no)

'More handsome than the Prince of Akielos?’ Damen teased. damen is such a dude (if that makes sense??)

'Your master’s in a vicious mood.’ Well, that was order restored. i still love damen's snark

nooo :( not the horse :(

'(...) he helped break her in as a filly.' / 'The Prince tore strips off him for not doing it fast enough.' ouch :( so losing her must've hurt laurent, and apparently he didn't want her to suffer, so i guess he didn't do it on purpose...? but that doesn't really make sense since he obviously knew there was something wrong with her before the hunt?? i am (once again) confused

'I thought it was terribly unfair of you,’ drawled Laurent, ‘to burn the skin of your slaves when you would not let me flay mine even a little.' i gasped. but also, despite how cruel he is, laurent is totally right. also i hate the regent always bringing up auguste, like he wants to rile laurent up even further. i mean, he probably does.

'It’s just a horse (...). I’ll have my uncle buy me a new one.’ okay i do not get that part? why did laurent sound amused saying that when clearly losing his horse was emotional for him, considering his mood...?

'The Prince,’ said the one, ‘wants you in his bed.' um. all of a sudden????????

... also, different guards?

okay that's weird. i don't have a good feeling about any of this.

[life-rewritten]

THE GIANTS OF THAI BL 2020 AKA SHOWS STEALING MY HEART IN NOVEMBER

UPDATE AND UPCOMING ANALYSIS NOVEMBER 2020

It's the moment I've been waiting for since the excruciating silence of Thai BLS during the lockdown. It's November, the month of thanksgivings, the month of pre-Christmas jitters, nanowrimo and the month that has finally made me realise we are so close to ending this godforsaken year. Still, most of all, November means that we are getting buttloads of shows that are about to take my breath away. This year has been such an exciting year for BLS because of the increasingly amount of companies and directors willing to produce and release different types of BLS. In this list, we have awaited sequels, delicious plotlines and shocking comebacks. But most of all we have lots and lots of romance and men. Which of these have you been waiting for? Let me know. Let's squeal about it. November is going to be so great!

Ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these shows?

Shows already airing

1.I TOLD SUNSET ABOUT YOU/ INTERPRET, MY LOVE, WITH YOUR HEART

Genre/Themes: Romance, Melodrama, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship

Country: Thailand

Verdict: So finally I rise from the memories of poorly produced bls, and pains of bad acting, and toxic writings, and traumas of stiff actors and homophobic agendas to finally say that without a doubt. Nadao has produced another masterpiece after my other favourite (Non) BL; Greater Man academy. Nadao stuns me, and for a very long time, I couldn't understand that this was how everyone was feeling, one because I wasn't fully educated or in the know about the company, I only saw tv shows in Thailand that were produced by GMMTV and to be honest I didn't think there was anything else above that standard in shows apart from Lakorns and Movies. (I know Sacrebleu) Getting to know and watch Nadao shows has been an experience, and for BL, I am hooked and ready for what else they have to offer. The only qualms that prevent me from gushing about the show are how international fans are treated. It took me a very long time to forgive ITSAY for its subbing platform (and price range), and that's why I refused to watch it with positive feelings. After episode 2 though, I'd be a fool to hold on to resentment when there is no doubt that this BL (despite not knowing if it's a sad ending. I'd hate if it is but it wouldn't change anything) is the best BL of this year. With ridiculous, incredible production, outstanding breathtaking cinematography, beautiful and talented actors and writing so good it blows me away. Episode 2 left my heart in pieces, but in a good way, I haven't recovered from the angst.

Ratings: 4.5/5 Would have been a 5/5 if the pricing made sense but also I'm terrified about a sad ending which I won't be too happy about.

2. FRIEND FOREVER/ OUR LOVE IS SICK

Genre/Themes: Romance, Music, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship, Rich vs poor,  Bullying 

Country: Thailand

Verdict: It's a pity this show is not available for international fans. Because I think people would actually love this show the way I do. It's so precious, reminds me so much of my first ever BL Lovesick (made by the same production team so makes sense) but better. What can I say about this show, really adorable cast, actually so good on the screen, great chemistry, and good storylines that keep me hooked. I am so in love with surprisingly one of my favourite couples this year Tin and Sea. I have such a great time watching this show, and I enjoy also analysing and just piecing together some of the mysteries in the show. It's been so good so far, and I can't wait for more. The first episodes are a little slow-paced, but it gets better as you keep watching it. I'd advise you to watch the director's cut because that has all of the storylines in the episode instead of the tv version which is more censored and has a lot of deleted scenes that mess with the flow of the storyline. Still, one of my favourite Thai shows right now. 

Ratings: 4/5  I think 4/5 is a fair score just because of some confusion when trying to watch it internationally and getting the right version and I do think the story feels like a whiplash between the different styles of writing of the main two couples. Go watch this though if you haven't, dm me and I'll show you how. 

NON-THAI

3. GAYA SA PELIKULA

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, LGBTQ+ Education, Contract relationship, Haters to lovers

Country: Philippines 

Verdict: Normally with verdicts, I have so much to say about a show, also when I analyse I can write essays and essays of information. When it comes to this show, I'm speechless. I'm in awe; I'm crying just even trying to explain how great this show is. How great Fridays are because of this show. How upsetting and damaged I am when the end of the episode occurs, I literally mourn waiting for the next episode the next week because it's too long. This show pulls you in, and it never lets you go. I'm mindblown by the writing of this show, mindblown by the acting, by the production, music, but most of all I have become a mess because of this meta in this show. I have cried so much because of how much I care about this show, the characters are all fleshed out, are so powerfully written, and emotionally tugs at your heartstrings whilst still educating and representing LGBTQ community fantastically. I don't know what we did to deserve a show like this. Maybe its because after years of waiting for something to finally show up and just be unproblematic and be so great with no questions, no confusions, no struggle, this show is just that. And I will be forever thankful to the whole team that brought this to us

Ratings: 5/5 I would give this more than 5 if I could. That's how much this show means to me. 

4. CHERRY MAGIC 

Genre/Themes: Romance, Comedy, Supernatural, Office drama, Slice of Life

Country: Japan

Verdict: Kurosawa and Adachi. That's it. That's the reason for the 5/5 stars when it comes to watching this show. First of all, I like Japanese romantic comedy shows, and anime, and manga. So seeing cherry magic come to life as this amazing form of that makes me so happy. Typically with Japanese BL, everything feels so serious sometimes, and then sometimes it feels too crazy and over the top. But Cherry Magic just feels like a warm hug when you watch it; you can't help your self but to smile and giggle at Adachi's adventures realising that he can read minds because he's a virgin at 30 years old. To add to that, he is given Kurosowa this incredible, amazing, wonderful non-toxic man who absolutely adores him and unconditionally is there for him. I just like what? Where do I get my own Kurosawa? Like it just feels so unfair haha. But really cherry magic is full of great acting, fantastic plot and unique as well. Every character is also written well, and all have interesting dynamics. We also have another side couple who is so funny and ridiculous but also just cute and heartwarming. I have a great time watching this show and the fact that it's ending on Christmas day? Already tells you what this show is, a gift and its a great one. 

Ratings: 5/5 I want my own Kurosawa. That's it. That's all I want Universe.

Shows Upcoming

5. THARNTYPE 7 YEARS OF LOVE

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy,  Mature, LGBTQ+ Representation, Internalised homophobia, Sequel

Country: Thailand

Verdict: This is a complicated show to gush about. First of all TharnType, the series in 2019 was one of my favourite shows that brought me back to this BL thing. I absolutely adore all the actors, and I also loved the storyline like I said before there's something about Mame's writing that I appreciate, I think most of her strengths is found in TharnType. Because of this, this sequel is one of my most anticipated show this year. However, I feel conflicted because I hate sequels. I hate couples having to go through the weird-ass, shallow, conflicts that just end up ruining the meaning of their previous show and leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth about the couple I once loved (Looking at you Together with me the next chapter still traumatised honestly). Enough of the negatives, Tharn and Type from the trailer looks like it's going to be a wild ride, I can even see the great chemistry that made me fall for MewGulf, and I'm so excited to see the new couples and characters. I also am so excited to see TECHNO again and laugh with him every Friday. We also know that the awaited wedding between our couple is also going to be in this show. And that's going to make me bawl like a baby. Let's hope we don't have too many toxic or troublesome storylines, let's hope we don't have too many breakups and fights (because that hurts so much seeing Mew cry) and let's hope we finally have a sequel that is better than its predecessor. 

Ratings: 4.5/5  This is how I feel about it, I don't think I can rate it as 5/5 because of all the worry and anxiety at what the storyline entails—still a great show to look forward to. 

6. MANNER OF DEATH

Genre/Themes: Romance, Crime, Mature, Angst, Drama, Mystery, Thriller, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Think about it. Why wouldn't this be number one on everyone's list of upcoming BLS? We have the return of one of the best actors in this genre MaxTul the actual godfathers of Thai BL; we have an incredible team here with a director that has won multiple awards, with a storyline that is unique to Thai BL, we're getting crime, detective, mystery BL with mature characters who are not in university? As if that's not enough, we also have a really incredible plotline about this forensic doctor who falls in love with someone who we are not sure if we should trust because he could be a murderer! Like oooh yes please, the drama, the angst, the thrill?? I'm ready for this; I am so prepared to give my whole heart and attention on this show. I want it to be so good, to defeat the shows of 2019 that came and took our hearts away, to be the best BL ever. It's so difficult not to raise my expectations when it comes to this show when I know we have a great cast, great chemistry, non-stiff acting, and just a really non-toxic author as well. I look forward to this so much. Only issue/question? Where is the trailer? Hello WETV, where is our teaser? Why don't we know the date for when this is coming out? I want it out now. But I'll try and be patient okay? 

Ratings: 5/5 I can't think of how this show won't be good. And that's really worrying. But for now, I'll keep my expectations high and wait.

7. TONHON CHONTALEE 

Genre/Themes: Romance, Coming of Age, Angst, Comedy, Childhood friendship, GMMTV

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Podd and KHAOTHUNG, (my sun, my heart, my favourite person ever) Sorry just gushing over my two faves. GMMTV has shocked me this year with the announcement of this show. First of all, Khao gets to have a show where he's the main lead. I've been waiting for this, and I'm so proud and excited for him. Not only that obviously, but TonTonChontalee looks really good with a vibe of a  comedic spin to one of my favourite shows Theory of love. I am ready to see Podd act so stupid as Ton and at the same time sob when he finally realises that Chon is the one. I'm so ready to see Khao act his socks off, and the show looks so funny, so fun and just like the chemistry between two is definitely a winner. I cannot wait for this next Friday. And it also has Mike and Toptap! What's not to love? Seriously though I'm praying this is successful, and it helps both Podd and Khao to dominate GMMTV. Let's find out next Friday.

Ratings: 5/5 For Podd and Khaothung. Just worth the rating.

8. GEN Y THE SERIES

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, 2moons Fanfiction, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: First of all 2 MOONS Reunion! What?? Very shocked to see this show tbh one because it's like a direct copy of 2moons the series; the same cast, the weird alternations to the same name, the same kind of plot as well. Channel 3 has finally decided to invest in BLs,  one of the biggest companies in Thailand, so the budget is high, the actors are known and famous, the production is good. This is so exciting to see. Also, 2moons was one of my favourite past BLs the whole time it was airing, and I had a massive affinity for Kimmon and Copter, so it's great to see them play their characters again but with a better budget and now glow up and grown. Their acting seems to have improved, Kit and Ming's storyline being the main focus is also really lovely to see. I also love seeing Bas and the other actors from other Bl series (The Moment actors) and I'm excited to know more about the new cast as well. So yeh this show has a great potential to win my heart as well, and the competition is not easy at all. But with a great company behind them and an exciting premise, this can also be a winner. 

Ratings: 4/5 I'm intrigued by this show, and I look forward to seeing what it brings.

November is such an exciting month for someone like me who just loves watching tv and analysing and just seeing romance bloom. These couples, stories and actors have a great potential to be the best things of 2020 so far, each of these shows holds evidence that they're worth paying attention to and honestly I've missed seeing Thai BLs that make me so excited so much. I've missed these actors, I've loved each and every one of them, and I can't wait to see them this month on my screen. What about you, guys? What do you look forward to? Who are your favourites? What are you worried about when it comes to these comebacks. Let's discuss.

[stormfirebeauty]

do u have any jason grace (honorary white man, clueless but in a wholesome way) headcanons ?

Ok I’ve had this ask for a while but didn’t have anything interesting to respond with but now I’ve been thinking about how Jason was characterized as a son of Jupiter and I have lots of thoughts to share. I’ll be honest though, I definitely don’t think of Jason as clueless (except maybe when it comes to cute boys).

We know that Jason doesn’t care much about positions of power and has always felt pressure to be in leadership rolls because of who his father is. However Jupiter is also the god of Justice, which is only referenced to Jason’s character like one time and I think. It would’ve been interesting to explore his desire for justice over power.

From a young age he was highly perceptive if someone (or himself) was being treated unfairly.

The reason he joined the 5th court was because the way they were treated made his skin crawl and his face turn red when he first arrived at Camp Jupiter. He used to have a major temper over it and other injustices. I think for his first year or two at camp Jupiter he was actually a bit of a rebel. His moral is basically “respect the rules unless the rules are unfair, then screw the rules.”

Eventually he learned that all acting out at Camp Jupiter would get him was enemies and shitty chores. He learned how to get what he wanted and defend people more subtly.

He absolutely hates the politics of Camp Jupiter. In order to get a rule changed or get someone excepted into the legion you might have to be allied with the right cohort or senator, you might have to exchange favors, you might owe a favor in the future. He hates even more when he inevitably gets involved in the politics and eventually get promoted to Praetor. He finds it exhausting emotionally.

I think he vibes with Camp Half Blood better because everyone is kind of on equal footing. Like ya some people are douchebags, there’s popular and unpopular people. Everyone gets a voice though, around the ping pong table or camp fire. Everyone gets to play to their own strengths. At Camp Jupiter we see Frank being discouraged to use a bow and arrow, despite being amazing with it, and Hazel being laughed at for using a cavalry sword, even though she’s a queen on a horse. Camp Half Blood would be like “oh sick you guys rock at that you should use those skills.”

However after being raised at Camp Jupiter the disorganization of the Greeks does stress him out a little sometimes. Counselor meetings involve a lot of shouting and talking over each other. He’s like damn I love the lack of politics here and the honestly behind everyone’s agenda, but can we take turns? Raise hands maybe?

I’m ignoring anything that happened in ToA partly bc I haven’t read it and partly bc my boy Jason is happy and alive with his boyfriend and girlfriend.

So I think normal career tracks for children of Jupiter/Zeus are probably like politics, company CEO, etc. Jason never liked positions of power though. He becomes a defense attorney.

He finds it hard to operate in a system so clearly corrupt and hates every time he seeing an innocent wrongly convicted or or someone guilty of something awful get off with a slap on the wrist.

Like at Camp Jupiter, he ends up in a leadership position despite his desire to avoid them. He leads campaigns to reverse unfair laws or court rulings, and becomes well know in activist circles.

One of his clients once got wrongfully convicted of a crime. Jason did his best defending her, but there were a lot of signs pointing to her being guilty. He honestly hadn’t been sure whether she was innocent or not until the jury ruled guilty, then he immediately felt ice in his bones and he knew it was wrong. She was sentenced to 15 years in prison. He spent months working every single day until he was able to prove her innocence.

Part of me thinks he would eventually become a judge but I can’t imagine him in those stupid robes lol

But ya basically Jason Grace only cares about justice and equality but because of his dad he ends up leading either because people naturally see him that way or because he realizes no one else is going to lead the charge.

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

stephanie perkins: ‘anna and the french kiss’

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Then again, if you’ve read any YA book, ever, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen.

I was going to go easy on this book; I really was. It’s really unfair how media aimed at a female demographic is seen as frivolous and vapid, and more often than not bashed and bullied when it comes to reviews. “People actually enjoy this crap?” ask the powers that be. “It’s worthless! Pulp! Dreamy-eyed nonsense only complete nimrods could ever like!”

And I take offense to that. There’s nothing wrong with liking romance or happy endings or stories about cute European boys. I was ecstatic when I stumbled across Anna and the French Kiss upon a chance trip to the bookstore. The cover was… meh (Century Gothic? Really? There were no other fonts?). But I’d heard nothing but praise about the book, and I was prepared to stay up all night and into the wee hours of the morning to finish it.

Admittedly, I was far from impressed upon the first reading. The characters were unlikable, the plot would’ve worked better for less shitty characters, honestly fuck these characters am I supposed to like them, fuck Anna, fuck Étienne, fuck Bridgette, fuck Toph, fuck Dave and Meredith and Amanda and Seany and every other stupid character in this stupid book.

The second time around, I expected to not hate it as much as I did when I first read it. It’s happened- I hated Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda when I first read it, and when I read it again, all that red-hot anger simmered down into an overall dislike. I thought To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before was trash at first, and then I read it again, and it got promoted to recyclable waste matter.

I found Anna and the French Kiss horrendous the first time I read it, and then I read it again, and… yeah, it’s still pretty awful.

Le Sommaire:

Anna Oliphant is a seventeen-year-old wannabe film critic who is #NotLikeOtherGirls – so she’s exactly like every other female YA lead. To her credit, she never explicitly says she’s special… everyone around her does.

She has a pretty meh life in Atlanta, Georgia with her mum and little bruv Sean- and then her dad decides to ship her off to France for her final year of high school. I’m not judging Anna for bawling her eyes out on her first day; I’m a huge mummy’s girl myself and I’d probably (definitely) do the same.

Meredith is Anna’s next-door neighbor, who does that thing which only happens in YA where she’s like “Oh, newbie? Let’s be friends!” (Or maybe it does happen irl and I tend to make a bad first impression which is why no one has ever approached me.)

Meredith’s friends are: Rashmi and Josh (who are a couple), and Étienne St. Clair. Guess which one is the love interest.

Étienne is cultured in that white person way where he’s half American, one quarter French and one quarter British. A true international.

But- *gasp*- American-British-French boy has a girlfriend, Ellie.

Anna has an absolutely gorgeous punk rocker (yum) boy with sideburns (yikes) back home named Christopher. Also, Christopher’s nickname is ‘Toph’ instead of ‘Chris’ because he too is #NotLikeOtherGirls. Anna tells us that nothing will happen between her and Étienne.

Anna is wrong.

Meredith has a crush on Étienne. So does the Regina George of the school, Amanda.

Étienne and Anna have some moments ™.

♫ Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but Anna ♫

I tear my hair out in frustration.

Several other white boys vie for Anna’s heart. Anna remains blissfully unaware (♫ that’s what makes you beautiful ♫). Étienne (who is still dating Ellie, mind you) is unreasonably agitated by this.

Étienne’s mum has cancer btw, which excuses all the shitty things he does, because he’s just a poor, misunderstood boy.

Ellie dresses up as a, quote unquote, ‘slutty nurse’ for Hallowe’en, though- so it’s perfectly okay to dislike her (even though, in the first interaction she had with Anna, where Ellie meets Anna and Étienne, after Étienne takes Anna to the movies, Ellie is perfectly sweet).

Anna, however, is NOT a slut. Amanda is, though. And Rashmi’s cold. And Meredith’s desperate. And Emily’s a slut, too. And her friend Bridgette from Atlanta is a traitor. Anna has an intense case of internalized misogyny.

Anna’s friend Bridgette from Atlanta is screwing Toph, and Anna throws a fit.

Étienne and Anna have some more moments ™.

A truly chaotic series of events befall Anna. She somehow winds up dating Dave (one from the harem of white boys who likes her) to spite Étienne, she gets into a fight with Amanda, more drama ensues, there’s a hint for a spinoff, Étienne and her kiss, Meredith sees and feels betrayed… several misunderstandings and more bullshit later, Étienne and Anna wind up together, because true love conquers all.

Mes Réflexions:

(If the French is off, blame Google Translate.)

Usually, it takes me half a page of my notebook to scribble down my thoughts about the book I’m reading. This motherfucker took me almost an entire page.

Granted, a solid 30% of those notes are me throwing insults at Étienne, but still. ‘STOP STOP STOP YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YOU DICK’ counts, right?

(That was #17 in my notes, by the way.)

For the record, I like Stephanie Perkins’s writing. It’s not as over-the-top and unnecessarily introspective as Jenny Han’s in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, and the interactions between Anna and her classmates were natural and not the “How do you do, fellow kids?” style of Becky Albertalli’s Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. The pacing is decent- I didn’t feel like it was too rushed; not the insta-love trope most YA romances unfortunately fall prey to.

And yet. AND YET.

Anna: “What’s your problem?” Amanda: “You.”

Same, Amanda, same.

Anna Oliphant is one of my least favorite leads in a book, ever. Étienne’s even shittier. And it’s not like Nick or Amy Dunne from Gone Girl, or any of the main characters from The Secret History, where readers pretty much unanimously hate them. You’re meant to relate to Anna, you’re meant to find Étienne charming and dreamy. I literally had to put the book away and calm myself down several times- especially in the last quarter of the book.

One of my main gripes with Anna is how… dumb she is. I guess Anna’s “Oopsies, silly me, I don’t know French!” is meant to be relatable to the readers. And some parts (like her not knowing how to order food because she can’t speak French) are plausible, but- sis, you didn’t know how to spell oui? And my idea of a cinematic masterpiece is Kung-Fu Panda, but even a dumbass like me knows that France is the film appreciation capital of the world. And yet Anna, a self-professed film freak, doesn’t?

Of course, Anna’s gorgeous, but she has no clue, because of course she doesn’t- even though she has multiple guys falling head over heels for her.

I’m in a short skirt. It’s the first time I’ve worn one here, but my birthday seems like the appropriate occasion. “Woo, Anna!” Rashmi fake-adjusts her glasses. “Why do you hide those things?”

Étienne is staring at my legs. The scales covering them throb under his intense gaze, and the pincers sticking out of my thighs start clicking rapidly in arousal. My hooves shiver in ecstasy.

… sorry, that’s not funny.

Her friends think Anna’s weird for wanting to write film reviews (which is the most contrived thing I’ve ever heard) instead of being the next Margot Robbie or whatever, but of course Étienne doesn’t and he thinks it’s not weird and cool and that Anna is such a special snowflake.

(Man, I sound like Amanda.)

And then we have this spiel by Anna about how she got into film critiquing (?), because we the readers need to know how special and #NotLikeOtherGirls Anna is.

To this, I say, “Piss off, you pretentious fuck.”

Of course, Anna’s a virgin and she’s never gotten drunk before or worn short skirts- she’s not a slut, she shaves below the knees only.

And would YA really be YA without several hearty helpings of internalized misogyny?

First up, we have the bimbo; the Barbie doll archetype whose only goal in life is acquiring the main guy (who is quite obviously uninterested in her), and making life hell for our protagonist. Amanda Whatsername (is she ever given a surname?) has this coveted role in Anna and the French Kiss. She’s blond (because of course she is); the first time we meet her, she’s in a, quote unquote, ‘teeny tank top’, and she also ‘positions herself for maximum cleavage exposure’. She’s always flipping her hair, getting her grubby paws on Étienne, giving Anna the stink-eye, being homophobic and a grade-A bitch.

Meredith goes batshit when Anna and Étienne kiss, and is very pouty and unhappy during prior Anna x Shittiene moments. Honey… he’s just not that into you. Rashmi’s the Ice Queen reincarnate and halfway to bitchdom. Anna doesn’t go as hard on them as she does on literally every other female her age in the book, though.

Rashmi looks at me for the first time, calculating whether or not I might fall in love with her own boyfriend.

Anna, hate to break it to you, but not everyone’s a possessive fucking weirdo.

About Cherrie, her ex-boyfriend Matt’s new girlfriend:

And maybe Cherrie isn’t as bad as I remember. Except she is. She totally is. After only five minutes in her company, I cannot fathom how Bridge stands sitting with her at lunch every day.

Her lifeless laugh is one of her lesser attributes. What does Matt see in her?

Even Bridgette, Anna’s best friend from Atlanta, isn’t immune to Anna’s anti-female propaganda. She’s screwing the guy Anna used to like, and Anna, the hypocrite, throws a huge fit.

For context: Bridgette and Toph are in a band called the Penny Dreadfuls (why is it with YA books and horrible band names? ‘Emoji’ from Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was bad enough), and Anna + Matt + Cherrie go to a bowling alley to see them perform. After the performance, Toph announces that he’s sleeping with Bridge, and Anna confronts Bridge… onstage.

“… You’re welcome to move in when I leave again, because that’s what you want, right? My life?”

She shakes with fury. “Go to hell.”

“Take my life. You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!” I knock over a cymbal stand, and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name. Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away, away, away.

Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.

I duck my head so my hair covers my face. I’m crying. This would have never happened if I hadn’t given Toph her number. All of those late-night practices and… he said they’ve had sex! What if they’ve had it at my house? Does he come over when she’s watching Seany? Do they go in the bedroom?

I’m going to be sick.

Give me a goddamn break.

Anna, about Ellie:

To my amazement, Ellie breaks into an ear-to-ear smile. Oddly enough, it’s this moment I realize that despite her husky voice and Parisian attire, she’s sort of… plain. But friendly-looking.

That still doesn’t mean I like her.

“Anna! From Atlanta, right? Where’d you guys go?”

She knows who I am? St. Clair describes our evening while I contemplate this strange development. Did he tell her about me? Or was it Meredith? I hope it was him, but even if it was, it’s not like he said anything she found threatening. She doesn’t seem alarmed that I’ve spent the last three hours in the company of her very attractive boyfriend. Alone.

[about Ellie’s Hallowe’en costume] Slutty nurse. I don’t believe it. Tiny white button-up dress, red crosses across the nipples. Cleavage city.

If I didn’t like Ellie before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. It doesn’t matter that I can count how many times we’ve met on one hand.

I fantasize about their break-up. How he could hurt her, and she could hurt him, and all of the ways I could hurt her back. I want to grab her Parisian-styled hair and yank it so hard it rips from her skull. I want to sink my claws into her eyeballs and scrape.

It turns out I am not a nice person.

YOU DON’T FUCKING SAY.

Emily Middlestone bends over to pick up a dropped eraser, and Mike Reynard leers at her breasts. Gross. Too bad for him she’s interested in his best friend, Dave. The eraser drop was deliberate, but Dave is oblivious.

One of the juniors, a girl with dark hair and tight jeans, stretches in a move designed to show off her belly button ring to Paul/Pete. Oh, please.

And I’m meant to like this character? I’m supposed to root for her?

I’m not saying every girl in the book should be perfectly sweet and friendly- that’s just not realistic. But when Anna has something judgmental to say about every other young female character… maybe she’s the problem.

In fact, the only girl I recall getting a pass is Isla Whatsername. And why do you think?

Brilliant.

And now we have the amalgamation of almost every fanfic boyfriend trope from 2014, Étienne St. Clair. Brown-eyed Harry Styles. I can’t fucking wait.

Étienne could’ve discovered the cure for cancer, or abolished poverty, or volunteered at animal shelters in his spare time. He could’ve been the most virtuous guy around (fret not; he decidedly isn’t). And I still wouldn’t’ve thought of him as the man of my dreams because HE HAS A BLOODY GIRLFRIEND.

I mean, which girl doesn’t want her boyfriend to say:

“I cheated on her every day. In my mind, I thought of you in ways I shouldn’t have, again and again.”

Fuckin’ smooth, bro.

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actually cheat on her. But I thought you’d know.”

Such a gentleman!

“So you can keep dating Ellie, but I can’t even talk to Dave?”

Étienne looks shamed. He stares at his boots. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what to do with his apology.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. And this time, he’s looking at me. Begging me. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need more time. To sort things out.”

And this gem:

“If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

“I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

*me, banging pots and pans together* F U C K Y O U

“Ellie’s not like you, Anna; she’s a slut and a whore even though I’m the one who’s been thinking about another girl inappropriately and I’m the one who gets my knickers in a twist when another man glances in your direction because my masculinity is extremely fragile and I’m a total hypocrite and a dickhead.”

I mean, he didn’t actually say that, but that’s the gist.

WHILE DATING ELLIE: he gets Anna a book of sexual love poems, he calls her attractive (“Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you.”) multiple times, he gets jealous whenever another guy so much as breathes in Anna’s direction and constantly interrupts such interactions, he’s been ditching his friends for his girlfriend but suddenly decides he prefers a new girl over said girlfriend, he thinks bread pudding tastes good- in conclusion, he is a Massive Fucking Prick. Though in hindsight, him and Anna deserve each other. They’re awful.

I had loads more notes taken down (Anna using Dave; “The important thing is this: Dave is available. St. Clair is not.”); the implication that cheating is okay because Ellie is bad or whatever, even though the sudden change in her character seems contrived because she was perfectly okay with Étienne and Anna hanging out before; how my blood boils whenever I read an American book and American girls are like “oOoOh AcCenT!!!1!!1!!”; me reading “DAVE SAYS YER A SLUTBAG” in Hagrid’s voice; the sheer atrocity of the name ‘Étienne St. Clair’ (sounds like a caricature of a French person)… but this ‘review’ is already pushing 3k and I can’t be fucked to expand on any of those points.

Verdict (which is apparently the same in French):

Who needs Christopher when Étienne St. Clair is in the world?

Speak for yourself.

[paullicino]

On the Internet

Taken from, and thus generously funded by, my Patreon. The above image via ExtraFabulousComics.

Do you have a flashlight nearby? A lamp, or other light source? Keep it to hand, it might become relevant for something, something I’d like to demonstrate later. The demonstration is simple and entirely voluntary, the flashlight is not essential. It works just as well as a thought experiment in your head.

Meanwhile, I’m going to write about the internet on the internet. Because that’s what we all do these days, isn’t it?

---

I still remember the excitement of our first explorations online. It was a kind of hidden, secret space of unknown dimensions when we found it as young adults. A weird sort of Narnia. A modem meant you could open this door to an entirely different place full of entirely different people obeying entirely different rules. You had to find ways of telling one another about what you’d found this week, either the next time you were together in person, via an email or, God forbid, by printing out a webpage. Twenty-five years ago, the internet was a collection of imperfect search engines (crawlers) taking you to out-of-the-way websites that were as likely to have been made by someone just like you as they were to belong to some major company or organisation. Its mess was egalitarian. It was a decentralised place full of curious corners and sudden surprises. It wasn’t somewhere we logged on to with an expectation of finding the familiar. It was a place of discovery.

It wasn’t simply that the tech wasn’t as good as it is nowadays. That much is obvious. It was the fumbling newness of the place. It was a primordial soup, we were all blobs and we blobbed around together, testing out the water.

It was a tremendously international space. It was easy to stumble across websites in other languages, to find places that weren’t for you, that were never created with you in mind, and at the very edges of these places their owners and their users might just blend together. Spill over, even. Everyone was from everywhere and they were all mingling, uncontrolled. It was liberating. It was mind-expanding.

The internet was exciting, it was new, it was unfamiliar. It was a place to learn. It was a place without an agenda.

It was also a place to be different. Niche interests found their audiences and young people could be united by what they enjoyed, not marginalised. There was no need to fit in when the place didn’t even fit together properly. For those of us bullied, bored, or worse in tiny homogenous hometowns, isolated or upset by the toxic social dynamics and popularity contests that school can create, it offered little judgement about what you should want or who you should be. It was a place to be genuine. 

I still remember the end of the 1990s, too. It was a decade of growth and change not just for a young generation, but for the wider world we were learning about. There was a peace deal in Northern Ireland, there was optimism in the media and there was a coming millennium that was supposed to be defined by technology and communication, the internet at its forefront. I was not a young man who could identify with very much of this optimism, but I was at least a young man looking forward to change, who could be accepted as who I was on the internet and who could be excited about what it represented. I’d never tried to be anyone else, even though being different rarely works out when you’re young, but now I knew for sure that I didn’t need to.

As my friends and I grew, so did the internet, and it became a place where we could share more about ourselves, where we could play together and where we found a bunch of ways of keeping in touch whenever we were apart. It became a tool to help me work, that kickstarted my career as a writer, as well as an ever-widening window on the world. It wasn’t yet too corporate, its websites and its tools not yet too monolithic.

I remember some of that early sharing. I remember talking to total strangers, a world away, about some part of my life or theirs. I remember talking to one internet friend of many years, who I never met, about British and American spelling. And about spelling in general. I remember they told me they weren’t sure how to spell a particular word and I said they could look it up in but a moment, since they were online there and then. “I can’t be bothered,” they replied, and that frustrated me so much.

The 90s passed and on September 11th 2001 whatever vision there was for the coming century was erased. The course of world events shifted immediately and dramatically. Never before had mass murder been so visible and so immediate. I remember talking not about how different the world was going to be, but that we had no idea how big a difference this would even make. In a very short space of time, it felt as if the world became not only so much more cruel and so much more cynical, but also so much more divided. I remember the weeks and months after those terror attacks as being my first experience of seeing people sharply divided in their politics, divided enough to be extremely angry, extremely offended, by the many suggestions of what should be done next. It set the scene.

As the decade continued, technology and communication certainly did change us. More of us were using the internet not only to talk, but for more and more of our everyday tasks. We were also sharing ourselves, too, in ways more personal and profound, and there was so much to know. I read a blog post by a Black woman from the American South describing the ways she had to bring up her son to interact with the wider world, how angry he was about it, how unfair it all was. I read updates from those caught in the civil war in Myanmar, talking about what they claimed the news didn’t show. I read about the realities of the rapid growth in Dubai, the working conditions and pollution. I read diary entries by people surviving the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, weeks without power and wondering when help would come. I read about the world in a way I’d never been able to before.

More than ever, the internet was a library of lives.

The first trip overseas I took by myself was all planned, booked and executed with the help of the internet. I flew to Chicago, in the United States, and I stayed in the most average hotel in the most average neighbourhood and it was wonderful. I heard real cicadas for the first time and walked through concrete valleys between towering skyscrapers that my tiny mind couldn’t process. In the evenings, I watched a plethora of American news, which was only ever about America, and that frustrated me so much.

The first interview I ever conducted with someone who wasn’t making a video game was with the writer Mil Millington. The interviews I really wanted to do were about people, their experiences, what they liked and why they do the things they do. Mil Millington was the perfect subject because we had both written about games, we both understood the reach of the internet and we were both interested in what the future of this medium would be. He had recently scored a book deal and written his first novel, Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About, based on his semi-autobiographical, tongue-in-cheek blog of the same name, listing comic domestic disagreements. I asked him what it was like to share all of his personal life online and he told me that, actually, he didn’t:

“I'm, honestly, almost obsessively private. It's just the way I write that, for some reason, if I say, 'Margret won't let me watch a film in peace,' causes people to think, 'My God! Mil's laying his whole life bare!'”

And then I realised that he had, of course, chosen to share all the things that he had. And carefully. It didn’t mean that those things were less honest, less real or less interesting, but he had been doing what all of us writers do: picking his words and his moments. We should all get to share on our own terms.

I liked his honesty. He wasn’t trying to prop up any persona.

---

A little after this time, I was asked on a date by a conservative American woman who I met in my first year at university in London. We saw each other a few times and stayed in touch when she returned to California. A couple of years later, the American Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin spoke about “death panels” run by Britain’s National Health Service. Online, I expressed my annoyance and anger both at Palin just making things up, as well as at the volume of people who seemed to simply accept her words. My former date said that Palin was allowed to “express her opinion” and I didn’t know how to begin to explain, to an adult in her mid 20s, the difference between fact and opinion, or that she could check such things in a moment, since she was online. That frustrated me so much.

This discussion played out over a relatively new website called Facebook, which had become an invaluable way to connect with my fellow students. I had feared being alone at university, lost in a big city, but the opposite had happened. As soon as we all finished our first year of studies and were hurried out of our student residences, we scattered across the capital and the closeness I had taken for granted was suddenly lost. But Facebook became a directory of friendship, another library of lives. In its early days, I made jokes about people oversharing, or using the site to attract attention, but this wasn’t any different to how some of us might behave anywhere else. It wasn’t such a big deal. That’s just humans.

And anyway, I like to share. My whole life, I’ve enjoyed sharing things I think are important because I feel like it helps me make genuine connections, express myself and feel useful. I saw the internet becoming another way of doing this, another way to be genuine. The younger me had played in bands and held dreams of reaching other people through music, in awe of those moments when an audience sings an artist’s lyrics back to them. I still wanted that, that connection, or some version of it.

On the ever-growing internet, we could all share ourselves more. It could become a new medium for acceptance and understanding. What a glorious future it promised.

---

In time, I adopted all of the social media platforms that I use because I enjoy human connection and I think one of the fundamental traits of people is that they can be so interesting. They do stuff, they make things, they go places, they inspire and they pull humour out of the most difficult of situations like a conjurer tugging an elephant from a beanie. I’d like to be able to do those things. Some days I can barely make a pancake.

Social media allowed me to make and share even more, and now I was sharing things with two people at dinner, ten people at a party or a hundred people online. The number mattered less than the creation’s ability to connect, because it all helped me figure people out and it helped me figure myself out. It helped me figure everything out so that, perhaps one day, I might also learn the trick that lets you tug an elephant out of a beanie. I would be able to say to people “Ah yes, you start with the trunk,” or “Surprisingly, you pull from the tail.” Then they could pass that on. Social media seemed particularly good for this, a way for us to all enrich one another.

In 2008, a series of devastating terrorist attacks erupted across Mumbai. Many of the events were documented in real-time by both journalists and locals using Twitter, which made the site seem to me to be an invaluable new perspective on current events. By the start of the next decade, the Arab Spring saw a broad uprising across North Africa, with thousands of people united in protest by the unifying power of social media. It felt like these tools could change our world forever.

Some other things happened as that decade wound down.

A woman on Twitter made a poor joke about AIDS and Africa before boarding a flight, only to find that, by the time she had landed, her words had been shared around the world many millions of times. A woman in England was caught on camera putting a cat in a bin, the footage of which went viral and received such an overwhelmingly furious reaction that one national newspaper asked, only half-joking, if she was the most evil woman in Britain. These events were shared, discussed and dissected with a comparable passion and level of investment as the terrorist attacks and the Arab Spring. On the internet, a cat in a bin was becoming as important as terrorists in a hotel.

I flexed some cynical opinions. We all had opinions by then (though still not the same as facts), because it was increasingly difficult not to get swept up in things like these as and when they happened. They were everywhere, echoed and repeated, with a kind of mentality of momentum. Countless people changed their profile pictures to something green in support of protesters in Iran, or added a flag to support victims of terror in France. They signed internet petitions demanding Something Be Done, though it wasn’t always clear where these petitions would be delivered or how they would compel someone to act. None of these protesters or victims were in any way saved, protected or enabled by a person on the other side of the planet clicking their mouse like this, but if a million other people did it, those metrics created a validity of their own.

I think I remember the late 2000s as the time that I really began to feel different about these things. But by then, I was too bought in. It had already gone from a habit to a dependency.

Year by year, the internet had become less egalitarian. Monolithic sites and spaces were increasingly the center of the experience, whether hubs like MSN and Yahoo, social media sites like Facebook or Twitter, or popular news outlets. We found ourselves in the same places, over and over, and we relied on these for our new discoveries. While social media in particular pitched itself as something that put us all on the same level, behind the scenes levers were already being pulled to shape and to manipulate what was shown and shared.

(That’s okay, people told me. Turn on this feature, or adjust these options, and you get to pull your own levers. That’ll undo everything. You still get to share on your own terms.)

These sites had swelled to envelop us, going from making themselves exciting to making themselves essential. We no longer went online, we were online, always, and we left more and more of ourselves there even when we were away from our screens. Social media allowed you to collect everything together, becoming a place where you could simultaneously read updates from your friends, your parents, Leonardo Di Caprio, the Prime Minister, your favourite newspaper and your favourite sports team. All in a moment and all competing for your attention. Sites like Google and YouTube started to track and understand the preferences of their users, delivering to them more of what they wanted, working hard to grab and to keep their attention. You liked that dog, that topic, that politician? Here’s another.

Here’s another, again.

I was pulling levers all the time, frantically now, like someone operating locks and gates to try and dam an ever more overwhelming flow. My social media sites had changed from something that I used to something I had to manage. Not only were we all carefully curating who we broadcast to and when, lest we offend an employer or shock a relative, we also found ourselves trying to coordinate and customise them, because if we didn’t they would do this for us. They began to choose what to show us, based on what they believed we cared about, they began to offer us things, based on who they believed we were. They even began to mess with time, giving us information and updates out of chronological order. All of these were changes we often had to undo or at least be mindful of, if we even knew about them. If we wanted to. And if we knew how.

If we didn’t, our reality might shift.

---

I still remember the excitement of our first explorations online. My first favourite website was Snopes, which was then a collection of myths and urban legends, most of them debunked. In the late 90s, bullshit chainletter emails would bounce around the internet with stories about how some Russian scientists had drilled their way to hell, or how a new computer virus had come out, or how Coca Cola dissolved human teeth. Sometimes, the strangest of stories really were true, or at least partially so, but most of them were trash. Thanks to Snopes, you could check such things in a moment. I loved that about the internet.

On September 11th 2001, almost twenty years ago now, it was difficult to disagree about what we saw happening right in front of our eyes. Nevertheless, there were a few people afterward who insisted that a plane had not hit the Pentagon, that the towers had been deliberately demolished, that some more mysterious sequence of events had transpired. They lurked in the darkest corners of the internet, much as they had always existed on any other margins in any other mediums. The rest of us could get on with our lives.

I grew up playing games and then, later, I became someone who analysed, critiqued and even designed them. One of the most powerful and important things I learned through games is that so much in life is based around systems and the longer a system is around for, the better we become at manipulating it. When a game has been around for a long time, we find many different ways to play it and sometimes we have to adjust the rules of the game to account for this. The rules for chess that we have today have seen many adjustments and revisions. The same is true for football. It is also true for our laws and for our systems of government. We have to modify these things in part because times change, but also in part because they are being abused and exploited, subverted in ways their designers never imagined.

Or simply used as optimally as possible.

It’s 2021 and the internet monoliths that we have begun to take for granted, that have surged like the rising oceans to engulf our lives and to carry us along their currents, are constantly being used in ways their designers never imagined. Two years ago, we thought the biggest problem we had with social media and internet monoliths was their subversion to manipulate elections, with great armies of bots and fake profiles being created and directed faster than the people who owned social media sites being able to prevent this. This presence could bring amplification and validity to anyone or to anything. “Learn the algorithm,” was the key to success online. Use a site or social media platform in a particular way and it will elevate you further. Elevate your work. Or your truth. Or just you.

Now, more than a year and a half into a pandemic that defines our generation, the areas of the internet with which we’ve become most familiar and most comfortable, those which we began to pour our lives and identity into, are not only places where elections were subverted, they’re places where the difference between life and death are considered a matter of opinion, where science and fact can be openly ridiculed, where conspiracies about September 11th are tiny in comparison. For some time now they’ve already been well-worn battlefields, public arenas within which opinion and force of will often carry more weight than evidence and reason, but now the consequences of doubling down on a belief are undeniably the difference between living and dying.

More important, for some people, is the difference between right and wrong. Not so much being right, but being seen being right, can give you validity, clout, value. I think we’ve reached the point where dying while being seen as right can matter more than living and admitting a mistake.

The flow of the internet, all those locks and gates opened by algorithms or AI or other people’s decisions that may simply have been motivated by a desire to give us what we like, have made it more difficult than ever to find things that go against the current, or to grasp something we can be sure is objective or straightforward.

One part of me believes that we can no longer look things up in a moment any more, because we have to second-guess every other thing we find. As a journalist and researcher, I never feel secure with what I find on the internet now and I dig, I verify and I compare, still coming away unsure, often worried I will publish something glaringly incorrect. A different part of me, a more dramatic part, sometimes wonders which things are even real.

I suppose anything is real if you can get away with it. If nobody ever notices.

---

There’s another aspect to all this, the aspect that makes me the most uncomfortable. The aspect I least enjoy discussing, but which I have to if I can fully explain myself.

Living alongside the internet, I’ve watched as some of us pull all those levers simply to control the flow as best we can, to keep ourselves afloat, but others have viewed this experience differently. They’ve seen it as a challenge, as another system they can manipulate. It’s an opportunity for them to choose how they present themselves. The more levers they pull, the greater their ability to do so. The more time they invest, the greater the result.

If you take your flashlight, lamp or light source and point it toward an object, you can easily affect the size and the shape of the shadows it will cast. Under your control, those shadows can lengthen or deepen, they can sweep and distort. A light up close can cast a gigantic shadow across a far wall, perhaps a sharp one or perhaps one fuzzy and undefined. Try it. See what you can make. The more you do it, the more tricks you can learn.

All of us try to present our best selves and all of us have our different selves, too. Forty years before I ever went online, the sociologist Erving Goffman published The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, a book about how we behave differently in different contexts. It’s natural for us to speak to our family in a different way to how we speak to our best friend, or to our colleagues, or to a crowd we might be addressing in a speech. It’s not necessarily disingenuous, it’s merely a part of the human experience. But impression management, as Goffman called it, is also a matter of degrees. Some people are more invested than others. If given the tools to perform more effective impression management, more levers they can pull, they will engage even further.

I have flexed a few cynical opinions in my life (at least as many as three, the stats suggest) but, at the same time, I think I have to admit that I have also been very naïve about people. I tend to take many of them on face value and assume they are genuine. Many of us are, perhaps even most of us. But I’ve come to know both that this isn’t always the case and that, given the opportunity, some people will use every tool at their disposal to shape a false version of themselves. We’ve found ourselves in an era where this is more possible than ever. It’s no longer simply within the purview of politicians and PR firms, it’s within reach of every one of us and all we need to do is put in the time and energy. The reward can be ever greater popularity, ever more validation

And I’m so tired of seeing this.

Over the past half decade or so, I have seen the internet and its many systems gamed more than ever. Gamed for political gain, gamed for personal gain and gamed to create images, personalities and that god-awful golem of hollow and lifeless artifice that is brand. Now a person can be a product, a new kind of commodity in this ever more opaque ecosystem.

The nausea and unhappiness I feel from all this is more than the simple declaration that I’m not a brand, I’m a person. It’s the discovery that other people, sometimes people I’ve known, really are a brand now. Their time, their energy, their life is now invested in shaping and maintaining that image, that brand, perhaps even at the expense of other pursuits. And with the right manipulations, the right tugging of the correct levers, they can perpetuate that, build that and further gain the affirmations and validations they need to prove to themselves that what they have created is as solid and as true and as real as anything else. And how would we know any different?

The ocean is not so far from my home. It’s not unusual to walk the beach or the seawall and see people engaged in impromptu photoshoots, dressed in their very best, expertly presented and shot with long lenses. A friend told me that most of these shoots are for the purpose of enriching dating profiles, that there’s an increasing feeling of expectation, a sense that everyone must present their very best selves, simply because everyone else now does so. To be on a dating site is to feel engaged in an ever-escalating competition for time and attention, to need to package oneself as the best possible product.

I don’t at all object to the idea of dating sites, but I could never get comfortable with them and I used to feel like I was browsing a human meat market, that it was all too easy for me to make judgements about people I didn’t know and then cast them aside. I felt, again, like people had become products and this was a system and a process I did not want to be part of. You can game it, people tried to tell me. There are ways to make it work better for you, it just takes a little time. I didn’t want to know.

The more time you spend trying to engage with things that aren’t genuine, the less you have for what is real.

When I use the internet these days it’s with an increasing sense of discomfort and disquiet. I find myself already on the lookout for the artificial. I second-guess people as much as I do information. I’m all too aware of the constructed persona and the deliberate framing, of that angling of a light to cast a particular shadow. In a few cases, this isn’t an abstract concern and social media in particular can be a place where I watch people I know are starkly different to the image they project be celebrated for the false façade they maintain, a façade that can be further reinforced by popularity and prominence. I see harmful and unhealthy people championed even in spite of their actions, because they have managed to engineer support and validation, or using the popularity and affirmation they have gained to push opinion over fact. The disingenuous and the distorted tie together like a greasy braid, each one reinforcing the other, and it’s no wonder falsehoods can spread so far, whether false representations or false information. I would say that sometimes I almost feel like I’m back at school, amongst the same gossip and garbage, but this is far worse than any of the toxic social dynamics and popularity contests that school ever created, and now it comes with measurable metrics in the form of likes, follows, retweets or subscriptions.

I’m sure, at this point, this is a common experience and common concern for most of us, and we are each finding our own ways to handle it.

Or not. For me, the experience is deeply unpleasant.

While drafting this I idly wondered if we could somehow develop a new version of Snopes for human beings. A demystifier of people, something that reveals each person’s private Picture of Dorian Gray, which grows ever more warped as they reinforce their persona ever more. But I’m sure even that would be gamed and subverted before too long.

I'm so, so tired of trying to work out who is real.

---

The internet monoliths I move between in my daily life all have one thing in common. Google, Twitch, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr, Facebook, Patreon and so many others are all based in the same place: the United States. They are towering. They overwhelm the rest of the internet. The levers that many of these pull, controlling currents and flow, are being operated in the United States. The politics, existential crises and cultural interests of that country are disproportionately represented and, while I care very much about the United States, I also want to hear about the rest of the world. I want to hear about where I live, and yet even that feels like it comes second. Yes, I am pulling all the levers that are supposed to make this happen. No, it isn’t entirely successful. I am using a paddle against a tsunami.

Once the bias is there, the snowball effect perpetuates. So often, whether I choose to or not, I am in that motel room watching a plethora of American news again, or its modern equivalent. It frustrates me so much. Most of us Westerners essentially live in America some of the time now, if we spend any period online. That’s where our presence and our attention are pointed.

Before publishing this essay, I changed every mention of “torch” to “flashlight” because I felt I had to cater to an internet that sees the first word only as a burning chunk of wood, not as a British battery-powered light source.

The internet doesn’t feel like the world any more. It hasn’t for a long time.

---

I can’t abandon the internet of today. I need it for work. I need it to promote the things I create. I need it to keep in touch with people. I’m not different or special, only someone too bought in as well, my use also going from a habit to a dependency. But it has almost entirely stopped being a place of delight and discovery. It has lost any sense of being egalitarian. So much less is new, so much less is unfamiliar. So much more has an agenda.

Algorithms, metrics and social media have quantified and gamified everything, encouraging competitiveness and narcissism. Public spaces have become arenas and arenas encourage performance. In an attention economy, the outrageous and the overblown mean a cat in a bin can have the same profile and presence as terrorists in a hotel. In spaces that now mix our friends, our parents, Leonardo Di Caprio, the Prime Minister, our favourite newspapers and our favourite sports teams, people we know and love are elevated or relegated according to how interesting an algorithm has decided they are, pushing them to the fore or pulling them from your view. “People on Twitter are the first to know,” says the social network that prides itself on immediacy more than integrity or fact-checking. Misinformation abounds. As the line between person and brand has smudged between all recognition, corporations insert themselves into and between everything else we try to examine. Surrounded by banner ads, the conflicts of polarised culture generate enormous revenue for monolithic American tech companies. As we fight, push our narratives, construct our personas or compete in the race to prove we are the most woke, we all make @Jack richer, or provide Zuck with more of our personal data.

I also find myself reminded of what Octavia Butler called “simple peck-order bullying,” the hierarchical behaviour where people want to, and now can, elevate themselves above others, according to identities they've built for themselves, to push their ideas, push their image, push their sense of superiority or push their opinions so hard that they can reshape them into facts. Anything is possible with enough pulling of enough levers. And now more people have more of those levers. And some of them love to pull and then push, pull and then push.

I don’t like what the internet has turned into, nor what it has turned people into.

So what now?

---

This was an essay inspired by an essay, inspired by an essay, which is always how it goes. Creativity is theft and anyone who says otherwise is only trying to distract you as they secretly shake you down. The eternal question that writers (or anyone creative) is supposed to dread is “Where do you get your ideas?” Because we aren’t supposed to know. But we do know. We get them from everyone else. We thieve them.

Ideas are pickpocketed from the people we pass in twisting evening alleyways, during the briefest moments of darkness and distraction. They’re caught with nets as they flutter with all the freedom of sweet springtime naivete. They’re spied upon from tremendous distances through the jealous lenses of sparkling telescopes. Nothing is truly ours and anyone wringing their words into a desperate defence of some unique capacity for originality ex nihilo is either deceptive or deluded.

(Avoid them. You’re likely their next target.)

This essay was heavily inspired by Lucy Bellwood reflecting on Nicole Brinkley. Both have written nuanced examinations of social media (focusing on Twitter) that I think you should make the time to read, but I’ll try and sum up the main thing I have taken from their writing in one line:

Social media is extremely bad, in a multitude of ways and for many complex reasons, and it is okay to leave it.

This is in so small part my interpretation, coloured by a particular belief I hold, that being that social media is extremely bad, in a multitude of ways and for many complex reasons, and it is okay to leave it. You can probably see why I approve.

There’s more to it than that. Brinkley talks about Twitter essentially breaking the way the Young Adult literature scene works, which to me is one facet of a dangerously seductive diamond that repeats many different stories of damage done by how we’ve used and gamed the internet. Her wonderful conclusion is that “These days it’s okay to not be sure what Twitter is for. We can stop going there until we figure it out.” And I so desperately wish I could stop going on the internet until I could figure out what it is for now, too. I wish it wasn’t essential. But it is, broken as it may be, breaking things as it may be.

While I don’t think leaving it is an option for me, I am using so much of it less. I have to. Social media, a place where I am shown arguments and controversy over the lives of people I care about, has become somewhere for me to hurriedly hurl out a quick update or two before I flee, escaping before I come across something, or even someone, that will make me sad. Any search box is a cause for scepticism, prompting me to analyse the results it gives and try a dozen different ways to find the same thing, just in case. Even Snopes is now a running commentary on the (American) news cycle. The best I can do whenever I think something fundamental to our society is unhealthy is to participate in that thing as little as possible. I know this limits my reach, limits my relevance and limits my success, but I also know that this makes me less unhappy and allows me to continue to feel genuine. Like I am still myself. Like I am still real. It may be apparent that my mental health has taken a few hits over the last couple of years. It doesn’t need to take any more.

I am not only unsure what Twitter is for, I am unsure what the whole internet is for.

---

There is no conclusion to this essay. It is supposed to be six thousand words of open-ended reflection. The past year or so has sometimes been a huge struggle for me and it really is true that some days I can barely make a pancake. Work has been difficult, writing has been difficult and maintaining regular Patreon updates has been difficult, with this piece being a huge challenge to finish. I think I’ve tried to make the best of things, as well as present an honest but still positive face to the world. I have piles of tasks to get through and I tackle what I can, with what feels like so much competing for my attention. At the same time, I can’t opt out of the systems I live and work inside of, much as I can’t stop paying rent or putting food in my mouth, because individuals can't kick a habit society has become dependent upon. I think the best thing I can do right now is be truthful about all that, try to remain as genuine as I can and continue to step away from what makes me uncomfortable, giving myself some distance from the things that make me unhappy.

That doesn’t mean I’m disappearing (I’m still checking in on social media, streaming on Twitch and so on), nor does it mean this change or this philosophy is forever, nor does it mean that things can’t improve. But it does mean I’m changing a few things about myself, my habits and my preferences. And it does mean I have a working, temporary, if unsatisfactory answer to the question “So what now?”

It is: “We’ll see.”

---

A big thanks to my Patreon community for the links I’m adding here, post-publication.

The first is How sex censorship killed the internet we love, on Endgadget, about controlling the internet in all sorts of ways and about what might be considered explicit (apparently a condom might be explicit).

Then there’s The internet Is Rotting, from the Atlantic, about bits of the internet that are disappearing and the loss of information that comes with it, as well as information that is overwritten and altered. We are keeping less than you might think.

Finally, The web began dying in 2014, here’s how, by André Staltz, talks about the growing prominence of big corporations (all American), what their priorities are, and what online things (services) they may bring to you.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

I love your fics! Can you please write Huwumi with Hawks having baby fever? Thank you.

KJBD:KJSMN>KHBF:IJ!!! Thank you so much for enjoying my fics! This was an absolutely adorable and fun idea to get to work with! Hopefully I did this justices~!

The first time he noticed it, he was alone and it was easy to wave off.

Fuyumi had texted him early in the afternoon that she needed some ginger root for dinner that night and asked him to pick it up since he'd be off first that day. And because he was a good husband, he was happy to agree. He hadn't been expecting, however, for the place to be a madhouse and for their self-checkout to be on the fritz. He resigned himself to his fate as he settled into the line with his whole one item, three people with full shopping carts ahead of him, and focused on the gossip magazines displayed before him.

But then he got the sensation he was being watched.

A quick glance up revealed big brown eyes peering over the shoulder of the woman in front of him, watching with acute interest. He stared back and a grin split out on the chubby-cheeked face before him. Oh, now that was unfair! They were just so precious! He smiled and waggled his fingers at them, which caused them to smile wider, revealing a mouth with just one lone tooth along the top, and giggle excitedly.

"Hmm? What's got you so excited, Kaoru?" Their mother hummed, shifting the baby and then peering over at Hawks. Her cheeks flushed as she realized who he was. "O-Oh, heavens, I'm so sorry! Is she bothering you? I can put her back in her seat!"

Keigo was quick to hold his hands up and shake his head. "Oh, no! She's not being anything but a cute lil distraction while we wait. Isn't that right, lil miss?" he mused, winking and waggling his fingers at her again.

Kaoru let out a few little giggles before ducking her face into her mother's shoulder, peeking at him almost bashfully.

"Oh, gonna get all shy as soon as you get complimented, huh? My wife does the same thing!" he teased. The mother giggled lightly and adjusted her grip on her daughter, bouncing her up a bit to get a more comfortable hold. "If you don't mind me asking, how old is she?"

"She'll be five months in a few days," she preened, gently rubbing her baby's back.

Kaoru herself tilted her head up to continue grinning at Keigo, reaching one hand out towards him. He chuckled and held his hand out closer to her, letting her pudgy fingers curl around one of his own. Gosh, she was so small! Were all babies this small? "That a good age?" he asked, glancing from the mother back to Kaoru.

"When she's not upset about teething, it is," she hummed, watching fondly as her daughter used the grip she had on Keigo's finger to wobble his hand from side to side.

"Oh, that's gotta be no fun! Little teeth popping out ain't fun, huh?" he mused while reaching over with his other hand to lightly pinch one of her pudgy cheeks. Kaoru squealed and giggled at the attention.

He had the mother wait up for the two seconds it took him to pay for the ginger root so he could help her get her groceries loaded up. She thanked him profusely and held little Kaoru's hand up to wave at him before getting her in her car seat. Cute kid, he had thought, a strange desire prodding at the back of his mind. He easily brushed it off, though, and conjured up his wings to get home a little faster.

………………………..

The second time it happened, Fuyumi was with him.

They’d decided to go out for breakfast that morning, as it was a rare occurrence where they had a shared weekday off. The restaurant was surprisingly busy for a weekday but that didn't matter much. They'd come out just for the sake of it, after all. They were settled into a booth, chatting about this funny work story or that upcoming social event as they sipped their coffee, when a flicker of motion caught his attention. In a split second, one of his feathers zipped out to grab whatever it was, honed instincts taking control before he could stop them. Fuyumi blinked a bit in surprise before they both turned to look at the little item cradled in his feather.

A jingling little turtle toy stared back at them.

They exchanged a look before they turned to a loud shriek at the booth next to them. There, poised at the end of the other table, was a high chair with a grousing baby in it, staring at the toy as if it had personally offended them. Judging by their size and the dexterity of their movements, the tot was probably somewhere around the year mark, if Keigo were a betting man. "Taro, darling, please!" The tot's mother started looking around frantically, peering under the table, while his father also joined in the search.

"Where did it…?" he trailed.

Keigo cleared his throat and floated the little turtle over, using the suction cup on the end of the toy to try and wedge it into place on the table. "Oh!" the mother gasped, expression turning sheepish and color flooding her cheeks.

The father rubbed the back of his neck as he pivoted to face them. "I'm so sorry, he’s going through a growth spurt so he’s hungry all the time," the father confessed nervously.

"Aw, poor little guy," Fuyumi crooned softly, turning in her own seat to look at the child.

Taro, as he was called, grumbled angrily, slapping at the turtle until the suction cup gave. He picked it up and hucked it again with an angry little shout, only for Keigo to catch it again. That seems to startle the child, cocking his head to watch it.

"Dum, da da da duh~!" Keigo sang, wagging one finger back and forth, the toy swaying with his movements. Taro's eyes widened and he followed the movements of the toy, the Pro sending it ducking and weaving through the air before him. Slowly a grin turned up on the infant's face and little giggles escaped him, which escalated to full peals of excited laughter. A few other restaurant patrons glared over at the loud, cheery laughter but Keigo chose to ignore them. If they were honestly joyless enough to think a baby’s laughter was more grating than a baby’s wailing, they weren’t worth fretting over.

He kept the game up for until a server arrived, all apologies, with the family’s meals. With a plate of food in front of him, the little guy became enthralled by his food instead. Keigo handed the turtle to Fuyumi, who handed it back to the grateful father. The happy family settled into their meal while Keigo made a mental note that, if ever in a similar situation, he’d be sure to pack some small snacks along to help abate something like this.

Wait, what?

He shook the thought aside and resumed casual chatter with Fuyumi over their freshened cups of coffee.

………………………..

The third time it hit him was because there was a baby in Fuyumi’s arms.

Since they’d gotten married, Keigo tried his best to work his schedule around Fuyumi’s so that he could walk home with her at least twice a week. And, if not, he’d rearrange his breaks and lunch hour to make it happen. He touched down that Saturday afternoon feeling rather accomplished with himself. He’d be able to rearrange things with a few of his sidekicks so he could take Sunday off, so he’d have the next 36 hours - give or take - to spend with her. Maybe they could squeak a date night into the agenda either that night or the next? Dinner and a movie would be nice.  It had been a while since they’d been able to do something like that.

He strode up to where Fuyumi stood, chatting with a few of the parents as some of the students still waiting to be picked up ran to and fro, playing about. A little girl with two sets of sheep-like horns on her head, was excitedly hovering between Fuyumi and an older woman he assumed to be her mother. If his memory served him right, the little girl was named Kazashi. “Hello, sensei!” he crooned as he walked over, lifting a hand to wave at them.

And then Fuyumi turned around, revealing a tiny tot bundled in a plush striped blanket in her arms with their little head slumped against her shoulder.

“Ah, Keigo,” she giggled happily, smiling at him.

Kazashi darted over happily and grinned up at him. “Hawks-Sama! Hawks-Sama! Look at my new baby!” she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him closer eagerly while pointing at the baby.

He let her lead over before meekly looking at the baby and then up at Fuyumi. She offered him a small grin as she carefully adjusted the baby, who hiccupped a bit at that. “Cute kid,” he chuckled, tilting his head to look at them. They just continued to stare at him, blinking slowly, before hiccupping again. They were even smaller than the last few kids he’d had run-ins with!

The mother stepped forward and smiled. “This is little Hiroshi,” she giggled.

In Fuyumi’s arms, Hiroshi shifted, nuzzling into her shoulder a bit. She flashed a fond smile at him, gently rocking him as she continued to talk to the mother, the whole scene so incredibly natural his heart skipped a beat. And for a brief second, the child’s features shifted. Suddenly, the child's hair was the same bright blonde as Keigo’s own but with flecks of red and eyes the same shape and color as his wife’s. He blinked a few times before his appearance shifted back to normal and he couldn’t just disregard the thought any further.

“Would you like to hold him, Hawks-Sama?”

He perked up at that and glanced at the mother. “Uh… Are you sure that’s okay? He’s so.. Small and delicate looking,” he mumbled quietly.

She and Fuyumi both giggled at that before Fuyumi stepped closer, carefully helping to shift the child over. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure. Just be mindful to support his head; one month old babies don’t have the best head-neck support,” she said gently.

Fuyumi was careful as she tucked the infant into Keigo’s arms, supporting the baby’s head in the crook of his elbow and supporting the rest of his body with the rest of his arm. Keigo then slipped his other arm under the baby’s back to offer further support. He and the infant stared at one another for a moment before the little guy yawned, all loud and squeaky.

Keigo’s heart leapt and the harsh fact of what he’d been trying to ignore for weeks now hit him hard. In that moment, he decided to confront the situation head on once it was just he and Fuyumi. For now, he just enjoyed carefully rocking the infant in his arms and listening to Kazashi ramble on about all the things she did to help take care of her baby brother.

………………………..

It wasn’t entirely unexpected, if he was honest, but he’d been trying to ignore it for nearly three months now.

From a logic stand point, he knew it was his biological clock ticking. He was sitting at 25 years old, with 26 looming at the end of the year, and he had someone he saw spending the rest of his life with. Another part of it was that he had always liked the idea of a family. His own family was not something he stopped to think about too often because it hurt. Similarly, Fuyumi’s childhood was also marred with unpleasant and painful memories. He and Fuyumi had agreed before getting married that a family was something they wanted, to be and have what they didn’t in their own youth, but they hadn’t exactly discussed the subject of when.

There were a good many years between them where they’d discussed the subject multiple times. He and Fuyumi had been dating for two years before they got married, and they’d been married for a little over a year. Things between them were going great and they were both happy. There was a part of his mind, though, that had noticed little things on patrols and days off. Suddenly he had a vested interest in interacting with the kids that approached him on and off the clock. He’d see happy families going about their day and feel a small pang of envy. He’d watch Fuyumi interact with her students and the pang would grow stronger. But then he had those three close run-ins with infants in the last few weeks and now that slight itch was too aggressive to ignore with a small, half-hearted scratch.

So, he decided to address it himself, the urge to have a little baby all their own becoming too much to resist. He went through and figured out a plan of attack, on exactly how he planned to approach it and address it, approaching it like strategizing against a villain. He had figured out the logistics of why having a baby would be a logical choice.

“So,” he drawled, laying on his side with his head propped up with one hand while Fuyumi settled into bed beside him, “babies.”

She stared at him a moment, reaching up to remove her glasses, before giggling. Heat flooded his cheeks. That wasn’t according to his plan in the slightest. “Babies?” she parroted.

“Y-Yup, babies. Any strong thoughts, feelings or opinions on them?” he asked, hoping he was rebounding quickly.

The amused, knowing look his wife flashed him confirmed that he was not. “Is there a reason you’re asking me this?” she mused, finally taking the second to set her glasses aside.

And he started to pull out every reason he’d come up with. But, as he stared at her, watching him with this soft look in her turquoise eyes, he couldn't find himself pulling them all up. No, instead, the truth came tumbling out in a rushed and embarrassed sputtering of, “I just really want us to have a baby.” And then, because he felt like an idiot, he dropped his arm and hid his face in the pillow.

She blinked before giggling and reaching out to him, curling a finger in his hair playfully. “Aw, Keigo!” she cooed at him. He mumbled into the pillow but that just made her giggle more. “It’s okay, you know. I mean… We’re married, hun.”

“Yeah, but still,” he whined, tilting his head to look up at her with a pout. She shifted to lay down beside him, snuggling up close and continuing to play with his hair. “I had a plan for how I was gonna do this. And instead, I just... meh!” Fuyumi just laughed again. He huffed before reaching out with one arm to loop around her waist and pull her up against him.

“So? What do you actually think?” he mumbled at the end of her little laughing fit, resting his forehead against hers.

“About having a baby?”

“Mhm,”

“Well, it’ll take a bit of time but… I think we’re ready,” she mused, slipping her arms around his neck and back. He grinned before surging forward to pepper her with kisses along her cheek, nose and jawline. “You’re really keen on this, huh?”

“Well,” he trailed quietly, “you have to admit, we’d make some cute babies.”

“You’re ridiculous!” she giggled, pinching his side playfully in retaliation. She then hummed and snuggled down against his collarbone. “But, I mean… A baby would be nice. And cute.”

He preened before tightening his arms around her, closing his eyes as his mind shifted through various ideas. Sure, it would take time to get pregnant, but he could certainly start planning. Like which room of the house would be best to put the baby in once they came. Would they have a boy, or a girl?

Either would be fine, he surmised, so long as it would be their little baby.

[kbandtrash]

Surrounded (Mafia Crossover AU)(Part 8)

~Megan~

Masterlist

Day6/N.Flying/The Rose/Like any other kband honestly x Reader

Warnings: Violence, self-harm

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Sungjin barged into your room. There you were, lying on the bed. You didn't seem to be conscious. He rushed up to you. 

“Y/N?”

You didn't wake. He shook you a little, careful not to hurt you. The result was your eyes opening slowly. When you saw Sungjin, you flinched. 

“Don't hurt me, please!” you begged. “I didn't mean to…”

“I know. Woosung has done things like this before.”

You covered your face with your hands and he saw your body start to shake. “And I've done just as bad things…”

“You don't… know that. You've got your own mind today. When you did those things, you were being controlled.”

You peeked at him from behind your fingers. “Sungjin… why did they hate you in the first place?”

“Well… you know how most Mafias are related, like family?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Day6 isn't related. We were created by JYP, our boss, to oppose some other Mafia causing chaos. Ever since then, we've mostly been here to get rid of rogue Mafias like The Rose.”

“Why are they rogue?”

Sungjin sighed. “Y/N, there are some things I can tell you. Other things, other people can.” He paused. “I'm giving you an assignment, alright?”

You bit your lip, scratching at your arms. Sungjin gripped your hands tightly, stopping you from furthering your self-harm. You took in a shaky breath. 

“It's not scary. I want you to interview the Mafia members you meet, any of them. Find out as much as you can about all this stupid Mafia stuff.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly confused. “Oh… okay?”

He chuckled, helping you off the bed. “I propose you start with Day6. Since I'm here, why not begin here?”

You warily nodded. “Uh, then… Sungjin, why is it called Day6 if you only have five members?” You already knew half of this, of course, but you needed to know more. 

He cringed and looked down. Then he was saved from the question when his phone rang in his pocket. He scrunched his face apologetically and answered the call, going out into the hall. You didn't expect him to come back, so you headed to the bathroom. 

To your delight, a set of new clothes sat on a stool inside, next to a shower. You didn't realize how gross you felt until you smelled the fresh and clean flowery smell—almost like roses.

You happily leapt into the shower and scrubbed yourself raw, making sure to avoid worsening your injuries. The joy you got from simply washing your hair was unreal. You felt like singing, but unfortunately you didn't know any songs. 

You stepped out feeling refreshed. Pulling on your clothes left you in awe—you had on something you hadn't thought you would look so good in. You wore a white shirt with the thin golden outline of a 6, a black leather jacket just long enough to reach your waist, and black slightly-ripped jeans. 

“Wow,” you said to yourself, quietly admiring the sight in the mirror. You left your dress on the bathroom floor. When you opened the door to your bedroom, you spotted a dirty-blonde man you recognized from being part of NFlying. 

He smiled. “Hi, Y/N. I'm Hun.”

His smile seemed pretty genuine, but he looked as if he were afraid of you. You didn’t blame him, and wanted him to feel safe around you, so you returned a shy grin. Hopefully you didn’t look creepy, like Woosung. “Nice to meet you, I guess. What’re you doing here?”

He was by your bed, leaning against it. He shrugged. “Sungjin told me about your little ‘mission’ thing. I’m here to answer the questions I can.”

“Do you not know everything about N.Flying, or are you only supposed to talk about some things?”

“I’m only allowed to speak of a few things with you, and then I can take you to the other members. I think the next person on the agenda is Jaehyun. He can tell you more than I can, but he also can’t tell you everything.” Hun noticed that you had stayed by the bathroom door, so he gestured for you to come closer. 

You walked hesitantly over to him and took a seat on the edge of your bed. Hun twisted around from where he was standing so he could still see you. “I guess I’ll ask a question…”

“Yep.”

“Is Seunghyub the leader of N.Flying?”

“Yes. Actually, when we operated in Japan, I was the leader. When we came to Korea, that role switched to Seunghyub.”

“Why?”

“He was originally a very important person here, and I wasn’t confident enough to continue leading here, so I stepped down from my position to let him lead. He had more experience here.”

“What do you mean he was important?” you asked, shifting on the bed, trying to find a comfortable sitting position. You decided to stand, because you weren’t going to sit on the floor in front of Hun. He would most likely get angry at you for doing so.

“He is an actual descendant of the original Jopok boss,” he said simply, lacing his fingers together and fidgeting quietly. “He was raised to be the leader of his own family Mafia, but he was recruited into this team instead.”

“Oh. So, what does N.Flying do? I mean, now, since you have to stay at JYP.”

“Well,” he began, licking his lips, “N.Flying has a long history. If you want to know anything about what we did before, I think Jaehyun can tell you. But now… I guess our role is simply working with DAY6, mostly. We don’t have a lot of the things we used to have before, and we don’t own this place, so we aren’t authorized to do much activity. A lot of the time, we just do what we’re told.”

You nodded and scrunched your eyebrows. “So I know that Dowoon is an assassin for DAY6. Who is your assassin?”

Hun seemed a little surprised with the sudden topic change, but he went along with it. “Hweseung. Have you met him?”

“I don’t think so,” you said, thinking hard. “You should just tell me about all of your members, so I don’t have to ask a million times.”

Hun’s eyes lit up as he smiled. “Well, there’s our leader, Seunghyub.”

“I’ve met him.”

“Oh? What’d you think of him?”

You looked at Hun sideways, and then sat back on the bed because your legs were getting tired. “What do you want me to say? He was nice? That would be kind of weird, since this is the Mafia and all.”

Hun nodded sheepishly. “You’re right. But was he at least handsome? I heard that an important part of being a Mafia boss is looking good.”

That brought a grin to your face, and you giggled a little. “I guess he was. But, to be fair, all of the boys I’ve met so far have been really attractive. Anyway, please continue.”

“Jaehyun is apparently more attractive than Seunghyub, according to some recruits.” He returned the smile and nudged you softly. “But… does ‘the boys’ include me?”

“I suppose you’re kinda cute.”

His smile dropped into a frown. “I am not cute. Tell that to Jaehyun. So!” He cleared his throat to change the topic. “After Seunghyub, by order of importance, there’s Hweseung, who I already told you is our assassin and spy. He’s outstanding at his job, by the way. Next comes Jaehyun, the trainer. He can also go on missions, but he isn’t the go-to assassin. You’ve probably met him before.”

“I have.”

“Then there is Dongsung. He’s a guard, and is also a mission-worthy person, because of his fighting skills. But because he’s kind of new, he has a lower role than he might have. He operates in the dungeons most of the time. Jaehyun likes to make fun of him for being down there.”

“I’ve never met Dongsung, either, even though I’ve spent five years in the dungeon.”

“Be glad he never had a post outside of your cell. He’s really talkative and would annoy the heck out of you.” He let a laugh come out, and then coughed awkwardly. “Um, then there’s K- uh, me. The doctor. Don’t underestimate me, because I can still fight. I just prefer to pick up after the fight.”

“Hm. Okay.”

“Yeah. That’s N.Flying, for the most part. Anything else you want to ask me before we should probably sleep?”

“Sleep?”

“Yeah, it’s almost…” he paused to look at the blue and white watch on his wrist, “eleven at night. You need your rest, and you should start getting used to an actual bed.”

“You heard?”

He nodded. “Young K tells me a lot. We aren’t super close, but he likes to keep me updated on everything.” He sighed. “I’m a little forgotten. He’s the only one who says much to me other than Jaehyun.”

“You seem to talk about Jaehyun a lot.”

Hun nodded. “He’s my best friend!”

You suddenly felt sad -- a pit in your stomach grew. “I bet it’s great, having friends.”

Hun felt the energy in you disappear and he cocked his head, looking at you sadly. “You can’t expect to have best friends on your first day out of a dungeon. Especially after your multiple relapses.”

“I wish I didn’t have such an awful past. It’s unfair that I can’t be trusted just because of this stupid relapse business.”

Hun sighed and began to step toward the door. “I can’t trust you, but I hope you’ll trust me. I’ll be your friend.”

You perked up. “Really?”

“Yep. Now get some sleep, and don’t be on the floor.”

You sighed, already dreading going to sleep. You didn’t think you could sleep in that bed at all. “Okay…”

He exited, closing the door quietly behind him. You sat quietly in silence, not wanting to lay down. After a minute or two, a knock came at the door.

You jumped up, running to answer the door. There you saw two short women, one around your age, and the other a few years older. You were surprised to see people here other than the many men you had been surrounded by since being brought out of your cell.

“Hello!” the younger one said, smiling.

You blinked, still taking it in. “Hi.”

“I’m Eun-mi,” she continued, pushing her way past you to enter your room. “And this is my older sister, Eun-chae. We’re maids here at the DAY6 mansion.”

“Um, nice to meet you, then.”

Eun-mi twirled her long brown hair and smiled. Eun-chae pushed a set of clothes into your arms. She had short black hair that was slightly wavy. Her nervous smile flashed for a moment.

“Well, those are your pajamas, miss. We’ll come by tomorrow to get you set up in here, and we’ll give you more things,” Eun-mi said politely.

You didn’t really want them to speak so politely, because you hoped to become more acquainted with them; after all, they were the first girls you had seen. “How old are you, Eun-mi?”

“Huh? Me?” She looked shy suddenly and bowed her head. “Don’t ask me not to use honorifics, miss. I am your maid.”

You crossed your arms, suddenly more sure of yourself because of her submittance. “You two are the only girls I’ve met, and I don’t wish to have maids. I would much rather have friends. So please, don’t bother with being polite.”

She blinked, and then smiled. “Alright, I’d gladly be your friend. Right, unni?” she checked, turning to Eun-chae.

“Alright,” the older girl said quietly.

“Now,” Eun-mi started, “Put on the night clothes and go to bed. Good night!”

The two nodded and exited, smiles on their faces now. You felt better knowing that you had two new acquaintances that seemed easier to get along with than the boys. The men were part of the Mafia, so they wouldn’t be the best to simply hang out with. 

You walked to the bathroom to change and did so, finding things to brush your teeth and hair with along the way. You were ready to sleep, now, but you weren’t ready at all to climb into bed. Sighing, you pulled back the covers and tucked yourself in, thinking hard about anything other than how uncomfortable you were. 

Somehow, you fell asleep.

Part 9

[enigmaticagentalice]

Alice Watches Riverdale episode 2 I guess

I feel like this intro would be way more exciting to me if I had any interest whatsoever in Archie’s sweaty hairless teenage torso

I kind of love how awful Betty’s mom is ><

Aw Veronica is such a sweetheart and I feel like Betty has really misjudged her? Maybe I’ll be proven wrong idk but it seems kind of unfair that she should totally forgive Archie and yet have this strange ‘oh we’ll never really be friends’ attitude towards the new girl who just last episode was so passionately defending her and trying to help her out all the time?

is Jughead secretly the protagonist of this show? I hope so

ok I’m sorry but there is no WAY the school would actually have a class on dissecting frogs when a murdered student is being autopsied literally that same day and it’s common knowledge, let alone if his sister was IN THAT CLASS I mean come on they’d put a video on and leave it til next week at least

urgh boring teen drama

I...honestly don’t know if Archie realises he’s essentially blackmailing his teacher into a relationship or if he genuinely thinks she likes him? I mean I don’t have much sympathy for her because she got herself into this situation where she either has to pretend to have ~real feelings~ for an idiot teenager or lose her job and probably go to jail, but I really don’t know if Archie understands the situation? Like is he super naive or super manipulative?

YEAH JUGHEAD SECRET PROTAGONIST he’s gonna blow this thing wide open

I’m rapidly losing sympathy for Betty, who seems to be trying to hate Veronica for no real reason? Especially since Veronica is the new girl at school and has no real friends yet? ARCHIE ISN’T FUCKING WORTH IT

WHY ARE YOU BEING SO MEAN TO HER SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING SHE LITERALLY JUST KISSED A GUY YOU AREN’T EVEN DATING ONE TIME AND THEN BENT OVER BACKWARDS TO APOLOGISE BECAUSE YOUR FRIENDSHIP IS CLEARLY WAY MORE IMPORTANT TO HER

#TeamVeronica

oooh Jughead laying down some TRUTH

#TEAMJUGHEAD

oh my god Betty’s mom literally burning sage in her room to ward off Cheryl’s evil lmao

FIGHTFIGHTFIGHT I went to an all-girls school in the UK and I imagine this is exactly what co-ed schools in America are like all the time, just cheerleaders and jocks and fights and mysterious deaths and makeouts in closets 24/7

#TeamArchie’sHotAndWiseDad

aw it’s nice that Betty’s mom and dad came to the game to support her cheerleading even though they didn’t approve of her joining the squad (or at least her mom didn’t)

WHY IS THEIR TOWN MAYOR SO HOT WHAT THE HELL

i cannot believe for a moment that any goddamn high school band and cheerleading squad are this fucking professional and polished, these guys are incredible

is it just me or is it slightly on the nose that Veronica has a chocolate milkshake and Betty has vanilla?

SO MUCH INTRIGUE

I liked this episode more than the first one, though it was frustrating for the same reasons. I find the teen romance drama only sporadically interesting, and mostly it just irritates me when characters act in super irrational ways because or their absurd hormonal ~feelings~. On the other hand, it occurs to me that this does create some interesting conflict when combined with the more serious, high stakes aspects of the murder plot, so I suppose it possible it’s intentionally frustrating and that part of the conceit of this show is a small town full of people who all have their own agendas, prejudices and relationships that complicate events going forward. I suspect my lack of sympathy for both Archie, and to some extent Betty, who mostly just seem uninterestingly bland and a bit soppy, might hold me back from fully enjoying this show, but having more Jughead really helped this episode, and the central mystery drawing in more people and the abundance of unanswered questions is enough to keep me watching.

[wellthatwasaletdown]

After reading the anon who called those who like Niall’s music naive, I have something to say.

I didn’t really know 1D and I only got here for the solo careers. Yes, I did gravitate towards Niall. No, I don’t think his work (or anyone’s) is perfect and no, I don’t expect anyone to agree with me. I just think Niall made a high quality folk rock album that’s easily, no contest one of my 10 best listens of the year so far. And that’s not even taking into account how he brings the songs to life live—because he’s a really gifted live performer. That iHeart album release show was ridiculously good, maybe because it’s the first time we heard him perform the album not from phone snippets. It even prompted the iHeart host to say that the greats make it look effortless.

This is just my two cents and to each their own, always. But some of the criticisms of Niall’s work really bother me because they strike me as veiled (and sometimes not so veiled) criticisms of 1D, boy bands, emotional and confessional music, and the cultural forms that are seen as appealing to females. It’s a sly way to continue degrading the tastes of young females who embraced 1D.

But this isn’t just about Niall. I don’t care about reviews one way or the other—reviewers have their agendas and opinions like the rest of us—but some reviews have relied on lazy comparisons to an embarrassing extent. And Liam and Louis get dragged into this, disrespecting and stereotyping their work too, often to prop up the well-connected Harry. Harry gets coded as “rock” which reads as automatically more legitimate in the eyes of many reviewers. Liam and Louis haven’t even released albums yet and this is unfair to them.

There’s almost a cheesy, cliched script for Making Yourself Legitimate Post-Boyband. I notice much of the media and even parts of the fandom run with it. Niall doesn’t fit that script very well. But honestly, one of the reasons I wasn’t drawn to Harry’s hype is that his album struck me as an attempt to seem “hard.” It had a look-at-me-I’m-edgy contrived vibe that backfired with me because I had no investment in Harry (or any of them) to begin with and I couldn’t figure out who he was beyond the rock star cliches. Plus, he wasn’t even making rock, but power pop and acoustic pop. Which I have no problem with, but then why market yourself as Jagger Pastiche?

So no, Niall doesn’t necessarily fit the script well. But that’s a big part of why I’m drawn to him. He’s not trying to be anything else than what he is. If he likes the Eagles or the golf channel or Sinatra or his socks, then he doesn’t pretend differently. He’ll write a song about a woman taking the sexual lead if he wants, or he’ll say it feels fucked up to lose love because that’s how he feels, or he’ll plead with his lover not to leave him even in those awful moments when you know in your gut it’s already over. I respect that.

I also respect that in a critical world skewed towards “hard” rock music, especially music that’s packaged to appeal to hipster males, Niall was willing to be what was genuine to him. I saw someone express this better than I could: for someone from a boy band, choosing to be “soft” and vulnerable and emotional is brave as fuck. And he made some sweet old school grooves while he was doing it.

So, anon, by all means, find the music that works for you. Maybe you dismiss me as naive, but I think emotional vulnerability, especially in an industry ready and waiting to sneer at you for it, is bold. Certainly, bolder in my eyes than the extremely safe route of making music designed to appeal to critics at Rolling Stone. Again, to each their own.


***

[mittensmorgul]

I've got Pac Man Fever on in the background for the meta rewatch, and one of the first things we learn is that the bunker isn't trackable to within a 20 mile radius. And all I can think is that like Dean with the Colt, trusting too much in it because it's apparently invincible.

Sam and Dean continued trusting in the security of the bunker because it was so incredible this way. We know the Colt still had five things it couldn't kill (and not WHAT those things are), yet Dean trusted it to kill an at-the-time unidentified god in 12.18. And nearly got himself killed by a plain-old human, because there's still the factor of reliably being able to point it at the thing and shoot it.

Even after 12.17 and how they missed Dagon with it...

It's just a tool, but they'd put ALL their faith in it...

Overconfidence is... a form of hubris.

And all season I’ve been yelling about how hubris is bad.

It seems like they’d put way too much trust in the security and sanctity of the bunker. You’d think they’d have learned after pretty much EVERYONE invaded the place at one point or another in the last few years...

Yet they STILL trusted in the building they’d come to think of as “home.” Even after finding the MoL’s listening devices. They brought Toni back there, even after hearing her prattle on about how the MoL was responsible for all the hunter deaths, even knowing that they killed Mick for being “too sympathetic” to the Winchesters’ views, and even after Mary’s warning phone call that they had a problem followed by their complete inability to find or contact her since that warning. Even knowing that the bastards HAD KEYS TO THE BUNKER.

That’s hubris, and hubris is bad.

Despite the pileup of subtext pointing to Dean’s instinctive mistrust of these people, the fact that he’s been so on-the-nose RIGHT about so much this season, he certainly has a couple of blind spots big enough to drive the Impala through.

He never even questioned how the MoL came by the Colt? Possibly because he was simply too relieved or pleased to have it back at all.

That’s hubris, and hubris is bad.

They trusted in Mary, who they don’t even really know. And who definitely doesn’t really know them. She thinks she knows them via John’s journal, and since the beginning of the season we’ve seen Dean resisting telling her the worst of the truth about their lives. He hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her. He hadn’t wanted her to feel like he was blaming her for what happened after she died. It’s not like she knew all of that stuff would happen-- that John would be consumed by revenge for her death, that their entire lives would become devoted to the one thing she never wanted for them because of her death. It seemed unfair to Dean at the beginning of the season to burden her with that knowledge when she was still adjusting to suddenly being alive again at all...

12.18 invited us to ponder what Sam and Dean’s legacy would be. In an episode where a horrifying family legacy of murder and greed had been buried and ignored for 20 years resurfaced and doubled down on the horror and greed. The sheriff had tried to bury and ignore the root of his family’s evil deeds while fixing up all the “surface level” wrongs his family had inflicted on the town they essentially owned. He sold it off to the people who lived and worked there. He even gave his half-brother the company that had been the backbone of the town, and he himself took on the mantle of justice for the people by becoming the sheriff.

Yet even when faced with the evidence that his family’s long-buried legacy might be coming back to haunt him, he passively ignored the threat. Yes, he eventually experienced doubt and went to check to make sure Moloch was still safely locked away, but while he’d been busy trying to ignore the monster’s existence, the other surviving member of his family had uncovered the secret for himself. His brother was lured in by Moloch’s promises, and a desperate, selfish drive to have the life he felt he deserved but had always been denied.

In his fervor, he not only capitulated to the monster’s desire for blood, HE FREED IT from the prison where it had been contained for more than a hundred years. Suddenly it wasn’t one death a year to appease the god, it was a string of deaths. Like the god had extra leverage over him because he hadn’t seen the bigger picture.

This is Mary, who was so desperate to make the life she’d intended to for her family, the life she felt she’d been denied by circumstance. But she didn’t have all the facts-- either about her own family’s history OR the Men of Letters. Yet she signed up to work with them anyway. Despite her doubts, despite the fact she instinctively, on some level, knew it was wrong enough that she hid her mission from Sam and Dean in 12.12, and then STILL didn’t tell them the truth when she discovered how shady the whole operation was.

Mary’s hubris has led to the loss of her free will, now subsumed by the Men of Letters’ agenda. She realized too late that she’d put her faith in the wrong place. She’d pinned her personal hopes and desires to an evil force because on the surface they seemed to share her end goals, and was willing to turn a blind eye to their blatantly obvious faults. To the hubris of the underlying agenda itself.

This is also Crowley, whose motives for diverting Lucifer from the cage in the first place seem like pure hubris anyway, A hubris compounded by his willingness to deal with the Men of Letters and his repeated tormenting of Lucifer. And Crowley’s hubris has led to him seeking refuge from the fate he’d made for himself by literally becoming a rat and being tossed out with the trash. Not fucking subtle, bucklemming.

So Sam and Dean have ended up trapped within their own “legacy,” the bunker that they’d gradually made their own without knowing the full extent of the baggage that came along with it, that some portion of the Men of Letters survived Abaddon’s slaughter in 1958 to become even more secretive and radicalized in their isolation. Sam instinctively wanted to trust them, because nothing he’d found in the bunker had made him believe that the Men of Letters might have evil intentions. He desperately wanted to believe the best of these people despite the evidence of his own experiences at their hands. He didn’t trust HIMSELF over their self-proclaimed superior knowledge and goals. Now that’s all come back around to bite everyone in the ass.

Dean’s been ignoring or suppressing his own instincts all season, despite being confronted with confirmation that his instincts were right all along. But his lack of faith in himself has a lot of baggage attached to it and THAT is what I believe he’s been working through. In the past he’s tried to enforce his will over that of others (see: his instincts about Ruby and how he pushed Sam away by trying to enforce his will, his instincts about Cas in s6, his own poor choices in s8 and s9 that culminated in him practically destroying the universe because he tried to enforce his own will by thinking it was a good idea to slam the gates of Hell... which led to the COSMIC CONSEQUENCES (i.e. cavalcade of dominoes falling that ended up releasing the Darkness and nearly ending the universe), and then having God himself rest the burden of looking after the Earth in Dean’s hands in 11.23. But he blames himself for ALL of it.

I’m watching 8.22 right now (hello, Dabb), watching Sarah Blake die because of his choices.

I can’t honestly say this loud enough. EVERYTHING THAT HAS HAPPENED ON THE SHOW SINCE 12.09 IS THE COSMIC CONSEQUENCES. Really, everything that’s happened since Mary was resurrected at the end of 11.23 has been a cascade of increasingly dire consequences. Billie had tried to set the natural order to rights SEVERAL TIMES over the early part of the season, asking Mary to choose to go back to Heaven where she belonged, but it had still been her choice at that point, and she rejected the offer.

In 12.09, Mary was ready to accept her own death in the fulfillment of Dean’s deal with Billie, but Cas spared her from paying the price. Honestly, he didn’t do it for MARY, but for DEAN. What would it have done to Dean at that point to have Mary pay the price for his own failure? Because that’s how it would’ve felt to him. It would’ve broken him. Instead, Mary’s been given a free pass to continue existing, and to continue screwing with the Natural Order.

COSMIC CONSEQUENCES.

Dean still hasn’t found the balance in himself that he’d helped bring about in the universe. The balance between trusting in his own will versus forcing that will on anyone else. Trying to bend others to his will has a long, long history of failure attached to it. And yet standing all the way back like Chuck and just passively observing these consequences unfolding despite that itching instinct to intervene hasn’t actually resulted in anything good either.

COSMIC CONSEQUENCES.

Cas felt like he’d failed Sam and Dean in 12.09 by not being able to find and save them from prison. He doubted himself so much that he wasn’t even able to carry out a normal hunt on his own when we know he’d become a shockingly effective hunter in his own right over the last few years. Self-doubt, lack of self-worth, all over the loss of Sam and Dean... led directly to the events of 12.12 where he nearly paid the price with his own life (except for the interference of Crowley, he would have).

(Heck, I’m watching 8.23 right now. This isn’t a new theme for Cas...)

He’s still trying to atone from his decision to say yes to Lucifer in 11.10. That’s the genesis of an awful lot of the cosmic consequences we’re dealing with now, after all. His failure to protect Sam and Dean in 12.08, however, is a driving force behind his current spate of terrible choices in a misguided attempt to protect them from paying those cosmic consequences on his behalf.

The tricky thing about cosmic consequences is that you simply can’t walk past them and ignore the inciting incident that kicked them all off in the first place. Like the Barrett family’s buried secret-- the literal god buried under their basement floor, the foundations of their entire lives, or even Dean refusing to kill that little girl in 6.11, our original introduction to Cosmic Consequences-- you can push them down and try to ignore them and hope they’ll go away. You can run around trying to clean up the resulting chain reaction of terrible consequences as they erupt into flames all around you, but until the original imbalance is corrected and the truth is unearthed and dealt with directly, that’s all they’ve been able to do.

Cas’s self-doubt, like Dean said in 12.19, has blinded him to the danger he was in. He’d said yes to Lucifer in 11.10, voluntarily handing his free will over to Lucifer, and he’s never really had a chance to reclaim that agency. It seems that everything he’s tried to do since then has been a rather futile effort to reclaim that agency.

I’ve said it so many times this season, but Cas “wished” for faith, and he was slammed with it. And the wishes turn bad. The wishes turn very bad. I think one of the main reasons it was so easy for the nephilim to inflict its will on Cas was that he’d surrendered that will in 11.10 and never fully reclaimed it. He hasn’t asserted it for himself again, instead acting on his own, scrambling around blindly trying to put everything else right while the original act of surrender remains unrevoked.

COSMIC. CONSEQUENCES.

That’s all any of this is, really. That’s the whole story right there.

It’s not about who has to pay the price, it’s about going back and reversing the entire original story. It’s about getting a second chance to put right those original wrongs. It’s about realizing that we can’t just have what we want, because that’s not how life works. Back in 4.08 Sam and Dean were in a very different place to where they are now. Even back in 6.11 when Dean began learning this lesson on a cosmic scale. It’s not just about cleaning up their messes, it’s about finding balance between the natural order and free will. And remembering that no one person’s will should decide the fate of the entire universe at the expense of the natural order.