#it's part of these that one of the characters is devastatingly sad

[leefail]

I was thinking... The Robins was a mobile adoption sim (otome game style), launched a few years back with the hope of a revolutionary take on the dating sim genre. The game, though, lost its audience real quick. Because it wasn't a dating sim.

And then we have Bruce Wayne, a multibillionaire shut-in, never seen outside of the Wayne Manor ever since his parents met their tragic death, with the one person who remembers he existed being the Waynes' aged butler.

Don't let his being a shut-in fool you, Bruce was never good with electronic devices, let alone video games. His days were mostly spent sleeping and trying to chase the demons inside his head away with books.

That's how he downloaded The Robins, a click on an ad that told him to... click. (In big bold green letters with an arrow) It got him to the downloading link, and he just downloaded it.

Bruce became an addict. The game had four main capture targets: Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Along with a bunch of other secret routes you can unlock during your playthrough.

The gameplay was simple enough. You just have to increase a character's favourability to the max for them to get adopted. Favourability increases with each unlocked special scene, and special scenes are unlocked with a certain number of successful interactions.

Special scenes were Bruce's favourite part. He'd hold his breath so tight and sit straight like a scholar for an exam and give all of his attention to the screen. You wouldn't guess he was playing a game.

The first one he played was with Dick. The young adult was sitting on the rooftop and Bruce followed him there. They talked and joked. Bruce never thought it was a special scene until the spark in Dick's eyes was gone, and he told him about his parents' death.

"Sometimes," Bruce could only see Dick's side profile as he talked, "Sometimes I wonder, Bruce. Would this have happened if I just... wasn't there? Could I have been a... a changeable variable?"

"Am I still a changeable variable?"

... For an even bigger tragedy that is about to happen.

As Dick's loud cries filled the room. Bruce's pillow became soaked with his own tears.

As for his favourite character? It was Jason, who, when Bruce finally maxed his favourability points with, disappeared instead of getting adopted. Bruce was so upset about it he spent a whole night writing a harsh criticising review. A gamer took a screenshot of his comment later, and it became an embarrassing meme that was the talk of the gaming community for a while. Bruce wasn't aware of this because he didn't have social media. (I need to mention that his username in the app store was his actual full name)

You can imagine the stress he felt when Jason returned with the rage of a burning sun.

"You know what I hate most about you, Bruce?"

His gloved hands clutched the neck of Bruce's character shirt, yanking him up so they're face to face. "It's that you're a fucking coward"

"It only took one tiny inconvenient problem for you to hide in your little corner and just give up"

"Because, heh" Jason's expression was vicious when he grinned mockingly, devastatingly at Bruce's face, looking straight through the man's phone sceen "you're saaadd. You just lost the closest thing you have to a son, so you're a sad, pathetic, miserable loser. It's an enough justification for you to just. Stop. Tryyyinggg!"

"If I wanted a dad. It wouldn't be someone who'd make my absence the blame for whatever cowardly shit he's on."

"It would be someone who even when I die, would fucking carve mountains with my name so no one could forget.

... I never died, Bruce. But everybody forgot"

"If I wanted a dad, it would be someone who'd hold my hand, " Jason caught Bruce's character's shoulder in a death grip, " and pull me up, he would come to me...

He- he would pull himself out of his own stupid head just so he could come to me" when Jason cried, Bruce closed the game.

For the long time Bruce spent wallowing in his room. Never had he felt so... heavy as he did in the later days. He could sense the weight of food in his stomach, and his butt would be numb no matter how many times he changed his position. He was tired, spent, and no book could keep his attention for long. It got to the point where Pennyworth, his butler, finally talked to him for the first time after their big fight.

"Master Bruce, you are not touching your food. Are you alright?"

Bruce's throat twisted in on itself.

No, he was not, and had not been for a long, long time.

He didn't reply, instead.. he opened the game.

He still got Tim and Damian to capture. After all.

[lansplaining]

[one snippet of a chengqing hallmark rom com for as many days of december as i feel like!] [previous part]

That night, after Jin Ling was in bed, Jiang Cheng forced himself to flip through the Jins’ proposal. It was classy and elegant, a sure sign that Jin Guangyao had taken the lead on creating it. Since joining his father’s company, he’d demonstrated a knack for finding historic properties and repurposing them in ways that retained a whiff of the original character, which was exactly what he proposed for Lotus Pier: the boutique hotel rooms would be named after school subjects, they’d bring in a chef to collaborate on a high-end restaurant called The Cafeteria, things like that. It wasn’t remotely to Jiang Cheng’s taste, but he could think of people who’d find it charming, if it wasn’t happening to Lotus Pier. 

Who would have found it charming.

He sat staring at the renderings for a while-- they must have had this in the works for some time-- then slapped the plastic cover shut and shoved the booklet away, hard enough that it nearly skittered off the opposite edge of the kitchen table. Before he could think better of it-- and he would think better of it-- he grabbed his phone and tapped a contact. The number went straight to voicemail. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Jiang Yanli. I can’t come to the phone right now-- oh...” Faintly, a baby started crying in the background of the recording. The woman’s voice rushed through the rest of the message: “Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you right away, thanks! A-Ling--” 

And then it beeped. Jiang Cheng, as ever, hung up without leaving a message his sister would never hear. And, as ever, he immediately regretted giving in to the impulse to just hear her voice. It made his longing to ask her what he should do all the more overpowering.

Desperate for a distraction, he dragged his laptop across the table and searched the Nevernight Group. It took a bit of digging-- they didn’t have much of a web presence in themselves, but rather seemed to be the company behind a chain of privately-owned medical facilities. He found a couple of them and clicked through stock-photo-looking shots of happy people who he was pretty sure were way too healthy-looking to actually be patients. But nevermind the marketing-- the facilities themselves looked sleek and well-designed. At least if Lotus Pier became a hospital or a rehab facility or something, he could feel like the space was still doing good. More good than a hotel. 

He tried the staff pages of a few of the facilities, but couldn’t find a Wen Qing. LinkedIn? There was a Wen Qing, MD there, which he assumed wasn’t the same person, so he didn’t click through. Any deeper digging, he thought, and it would start getting creepy-- even though he was sure the Nevernight people had done plenty of research on him. Well, there was plenty to find. When your family and their school suffer a devastating accident, you end up in the news. 

He shut the computer. There was another number he sometimes tried, when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, but that one didn’t even have a custom voicemail, so it was easier to remind himself that his brother would never answer, either. But he’d learned his lesson for the night. 

[3hks]

How to Write an IMPACTFUL Backstory

Honestly, writing and reading about backstories is probably one of my favorite parts of a character's story! It's a strong foundation for a character's goals, motives, thoughts, and actions! Its most powerful effect, on the other hand, is its ability to change one's view on a character. So, then, how do we write such an impactful past?

For beginners, the more tragic the backstory, the better. While this does hold some truth, let me re-iterate that it's for beginners. The idea behind it is that a pure, devastatingly pitiful backstory is unique and pulls at your reader's heartstrings. Unfortunately, instead, we're left with an origin story that feels superficial, overly-dramatic, unnecessary, and shallow. However in this post, I will give you some tips on how to avoid creating such 2D backgrounds and actually bring your character's past to life!

First, your character's backstory can be made with whatever components you choose, but the key is that you must balance them out correctly. Additionally, the majority of the time, you do want their story to stick out, so I suggest trying to come up with something original! It's much harder than it sounds, but honestly, every other protagonist has dead parents at this point. Be creative, add details, and don't be afraid to let your character go through things if you feel that it's fitting!

Second, don't extend their past for too long. The point of introducing the backstory is to elaborate on a (few) certain event(s) that affected your character the most and forever changed their lives. Keep it centered around one, or at most, a couple events.

Next, most writers tend to use sadness and/or to fuel the character, but it should not be overbearing and excessive. Alternatively, it should feel GENUINE. Not dramatic, but genuine. Different genres do form different types of backstories, yes, but the core concept behind it should be something natural. It should be something that your readers will be able to understand; something authentic. They should feel some sense of relatability, even if it's just a little. This could be like family issues, broken friendships, betrayals, leaving someone, mental struggles, loneliness, etc. Complexity can surround these concepts, but the basic, fundamental ideas should still be present.

Furthermore, be sure that their backstory makes sense. Even if you're introducing it through quick, brief flashbacks, ultimately, you want the reader to have all the pieces to solve the puzzle.

Last but not least, make your backstory feel personal to your character! Build it in a sense that if it were to go to any other character, it wouldn't have an effect that's as severe. Make it targeted to its owner. While this is something that can be difficult to execute, it really provides insight to your character, and is an easy way to add some intricacy to a simple backstory! A good place to start is thinking about the things personal to your character. For instance, this could be their past before the event, people they care about, their morals, etc. Then, add it in said event so that it pushes and/or challenges your character in a way that makes them re-evaluate that value.

There you go! Here are my personal tips on how to upgrade your character's backstory and have it really impact your reader! Be creative, keep it centered around a couple things, make it genuine, and make it targeted to the character!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[hismercytomyjustice]

!IWTV 2.07 Spoilers Below!

TW for racism, racial violence, and everything already in the episode.

These are mostly just my thoughts on Claudia and Louis and the role of age/gender/race in the trial.

The writers and actors and everyone went for the THROAT with this episode and I am HERE FOR IT.

First and foremost, this is a public lynching. Played out for an almost completely white audience. The CLOSE UPS on the mostly white audience as Claudia’s charges are read…

The farce of a trial. They didn't need to go to all this trouble to kill Claudia, Louis, and Madeline. They CHOSE to. They made it a SPECTACLE, as was often done during lynchings.

Louis referring to himself and Claudia as props instead of characters. Because the audience and the vampire "court" would have to see them as PEOPLE to consider them characters.

Lestat warping the narrative to make himself out to be the victim for a good chunk of the trial and immediately being believed and sympathized with because this poor white man has a sad.

The only defendant shown any sympathy or empathy during the trial being the sole white person, and a white woman no less. Madeleine is treated like a poor naive soul who could never have known what “horrible monsters” she was in league with. BUT SHE KNEW. She heard all about Lestat and why Claudia didn't want her to have his blood. She watched Claudia kill three people in front of her without breaking a sweat. To SAVE her.

Moreover, Madeleine is the only one they offer absolution to. Yes, she hasn’t committed any “vampire crimes,” but she’s once again given the benefit of the doubt as a white woman. She’s perceived as inherently innocent and worthy of salvation. The implication being she’s just one more person that’s been swept up in the schemes of these “villains”. While Claudia and Louis are treated as irredeemable and inherently evil. Lestat confessed to breaking the same laws they’re on trial for, but he also receives a white “get out of jail free” card.

The way Claudia, for all intents and purposes, a 14 year old Black CHILD is portrayed as a monster in addition to a “child seductress” of sorts. The implication being she bent two fully grown men to her will. WE know Claudia is technically an adult inside (and that's how she sees herself), but the projection of maturity on a non-white child to justify violence and victimization against said child is excellently and devastatingly done.

The further “justification” of Lestat’s actions because he has his maker’s/father’s temper. Yet another excuse often bandied about by abusers. Like they "can’t help themselves". Obviously the cycle of abuse is a very real thing, I don’t mean to diminish that. But seeing him actually take a moment to be like “oh, no wait, I chose to do those things, that was actually all me” was a nice touch. Doesn’t absolve him of ANYTHING he did, but at least he finally acknowledges the role he played.

Claudia, the “youngest” of the group being the only one who fights against the compulsion to defend herself. We’re told over and over again through the series she’s unstable, too emotional, etc because she was turned as a teenage girl. And yet she is the only person there with an OUNCE of maturity. AND SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BE. 

She’s only that way because she became parentified while trying to save Louis from himself and from Lestat. Even now, knowing they’re all about to die in a horrific fashion, she can’t turn off the part of her that cares about Louis. That doesn’t want to see him reenter the cycle of abuse, even in his last moments. She was his protector then and now while Louis is trapped in his own head.

Louis should be the one protecting HER. She is his daughter/little sister. He is older than her. He's been a vampire longer than her. He’s the one who got her turned in the first place. Not to diminish everything he’s going through as an abuse victim among other things, but she desperately needed him and once again he couldn’t/wouldn't/didn't step up for her.

Claudia saying “Can I cry and say that I’m sorry too?” Directly calling out the weaponization of white tears. The audience is willing to sympathize with a grown white man but not with his CHILD victim. Once again a Black child (in the physical sense) being held to higher standards than a grown white man who “just couldn’t help himself.” The audience laughs at Claudia’s pain while simultaneously sympathizing with her abuser.

Despite Claudia taking Paris by storm as Baby Lulu, not a single fan of hers steps forward in her defense. Santiago even acknowledges there are fans of her show in the audience! Because she’s not their beloved Baby Lulu anymore. She’s no longer performing for the entertainment and comfort of a white audience. Because she isn’t a person to them. Great post here about how the Baby Lulu play is a minstrel performance too btw.

We’re told again and again throughout the show that Claudia was too young to be changed, too volatile and therefore doomed to go mad and perish. But she’s the sanest and strongest of the three on trial. She fights back against an entire coven trying to break her mind. She walks of her own volition even with her ruined Achilles tendons. If everything they claimed was true, we sure as hell aren’t seeing any indication of that now. Claudia has proven her mental fortitude time and time again despite misery after misery inflicted on her in her undead life.

But no one in the audience and none of the vampire “justices” will ever acknowledge this truth. Because she’s a child when it’s convenient to their narrative (playing Baby Lulu and her standing in the coven), but she’s suddenly an adult the instant she advocates for herself and is now fully accountable for her “crimes.” They refuse to admit the Claudia before them now is the one and only real Claudia.

Even at the very end, Claudia tries to protect Madeleine from the sun. She holds her. She shields her with her body. She does what NO ONE has ever done for her. What Louis SHOULD HAVE DONE FOR HER. We know the pain she suffers is agonizing. We’ve seen Louis and Madeleine’s go through it. Yet she stands there head high, holding her love, and singing the song she hated so much to the lynch mob. Because no one there is ever going to think of that song in its original context again. Instead, it’s her final act of defiance, her last chance to declare her autonomy and insist she will never be what they tried to make her.

The death scene is such a stark contrast to her first death when Louis is pleading with Lestat to save her. She was catatonic then, but here she is so devastatingly vibrant and ALIVE. And it makes it hurt so much more to see that taken from her along with her life.

Claudia is such an amazing character in this show. Bailey Bass and Delainey Hayles are such phenomenal actors. I am DEVASTATED we have reached the end of Claudia's story and this is her legacy, but at the same time I will NEVER forget this episode or their extremely nuanced performances. Do I hope they'll find a way to reincorporate Claudia into the story? Absolutely. I'd love to see more. But at the same time, if this is how she had to go, I'm glad they centered the narrative so strongly around her.

[skzhocomments]

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

---

The Five Stages of Grief

---

“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

---

Denial

---

Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

~

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

~

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

~

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

~

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

~

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

~

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

~

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

~

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

~

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

~

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he���s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

~

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

---

(A/N)  Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

---

Alternative Ending

---

Chris's head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and realises that the place looks eerily familiar.

His neck starts hurting the moment he sits up in his chair, but he doesn’t pay the pain much mind, as he is more confused than ever. He recognises the place as his old studio back when he was still working at JYPE. How many years ago was that? Way too many.

The confusion only intensifies when he looks at his hands and sees them devoid of any wrinkles and dark spots, and he immediately gets alerted. He pinches his skin, as if to see if it would hurt, and the pain comes immediately. If this is a dream, it’s a way too realistic one.

He sees his phone lying on the table and stretches to grab it, and once he unlocks it, the picture of you, his favourite, is staring back at him. He swears he was at the cemetery and saw this exact picture on your gravestone just the other day.

The next wave of confusion comes when he notices the date and time. It’s way past 12PM, and the date is your death anniversary, the same year you passed. Only this time around, his phone is not flooding with notifications. The only unread messages are from you, and you seem worried.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come home last night. Do you really want to break up?”

He shoots up the moment he reads it and stops overthinking, dialling your number instead. If this is really a dream, he’s happy he gets to see you one last time.

“Yes.” You answer, your tone slightly annoyed.

“Babe.” His eyes swell up with tears when he hears your voice.

“What?”

“I love you.” He bursts into crying. “I love you. I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve said last night. I need you more than anything. Where are you? At home?”

“Wow, I was expecting you to apologise, but…” You chuckle briefly. “Yes. Are you coming for lunch?”

“Yeah.” He wipes his tears. “I’m coming. Please wait for me.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you.”

~

Chris has never run as fast to his car before. He barely sees the roads and even if it’s been decades, he still remembers the drive between your shared former apartment and the studio. He gets back home in 10 minutes, a record, as the drive usually takes him 20 at least.

He types in your old passcode, and as the door opens, you’re there.

You’re there.

He can’t believe it.

You’re there, alive, and breathing. There are no empty plates and half-drunk glasses of water stained by your lipstick on the table. He looks at the sink, and they’re currently drying. You’ve washed them.

There is no box of tampons on the counter, no jewellery on the coffee table. Your hairbrush is clean, your face serums rearranged. The bed is made.

You’ve cleaned up.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask after you follow him erratically moving from room to room.

“I’m… oh, God. Baby, come here.” He comes and hugs you tightly, starting to cry again.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You frown, a bit taken aback by his behaviour. Sure, you’ve fought, but still.

“How… how did you get home last night?”

“Well, initially I was super upset and wanted to walk back home to clear my mind, but I saw a cab in front of the building and the driver called my name, so I assumed you ordered me one. Didn’t you?”

“I… oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” Chris cries even harder, hugging you tighter, until you eventually pull back, truly concerned.

He starts kissing you, apologising over and over and over, and he’s never felt more grateful.

You’re alive. He’s been given a second chance.

[apricotopera]

there’s an interesting trend in kh of worlds and the way they change mirroring characters and the way they change that i really love - destiny islands which tends to be in and out of danger depending on how sora, riku, and kairi are doing, hollow bastion’s revival happening as riku gets away from ansem’s influence and starts slowly doing better, castle oblivion being a blank slate until aqua comes home (which there’s a mechanical reason for, sure, but the land of departure returning alongside the wayfinder trio also has a real thematic resonance), aquas exploration of the castle of dreams in 0.2 mirroring her view of the things that just happened to her, daybreak town not destroyed when its group is scattered but instead becoming the invisible scaffolding that the future is built on…etc etc! there’s a lot of cool examples of this! and the thing i’ve been thinking of all morning is that it makes the vision of scala in kh3 kind of devastatingly sad.

it’s…unclear at best if the scala we visit in kh3 is the real city, or some sort of dream or memory projection from xehanort (being literally inside the generally-not-well-understood kingdom hearts makes it a bit complicated) but it’s so strikingly empty and quiet. again this is partially mechanical - it’s a boss arena - but still. all the little details of life in the environment design, the little market you visit in remind, the chairs and cafes and posters make it feel lived in, but there’s no one there. it’s just xehanort. this final, terrible reflection of his childhood home, preserved perfectly, and he is the solitary person in it. it’s so fucking sad!

i think the end of kh3 does a decent job of humanizing xehanort even before we know him in dark road and even while he’s at his most villainous, and i think scala is a big part of that. like that intro cutscene of him just walking slowly through the streets…..gah. peepaw :(

[maximumqueer]

One Piece Reread - Ch. 159

When I first read through this section, the way the Strawhats reacted to Ace being polite (as well as Ace just being polite to them in general) was kinda funny. And while Ace is generally more polite than Luffy (at least as an adult), they aren't nearly as different as the Strawhats make them out to be (re: Ace face-planting not once, but TWICE into a plate of food in the previous chapter). And so my take away when first reading this chapter was that Ace was being as polite as he was to show his gratitude to the Strawhats for being there for his brother. Which is sweet.

On this read through however, with the context of Ace's backstory, these scenes migrate from simply being sweet to also being devastatingly sad. Ace's big hang-up, his insecurity as a character is a fear (and belief) that he is not loved, not wanted, and better off dead. As such his treatment of the rest of the Strawhats can now also be read as a desperate need (whether subconsciously or not) to be liked and viewed as worthy of life by those his younger brother cares about. Ace's attitude and actions in general can be read like that. If he is polite enough/makes a good enough impression to strangers, if he is useful enough to the Whitebeard Pirates, if he can help to make Whitebeard himself the next Pirate King maybe, just maybe he can finally beat that deep, soul crushing fear and belief that those people from his childhood (and adulthood) were right, that he is better off dead.

It also recontextualizes why he is after Blackbeard, which we learn in this chapter as well. Yes, everything Ace says is true regarding his reasoning, wanting to take responsibly for Blackbeard's actions etc. But, with the knowledge of his backstory, Ace's devotion (nearly to the point of obsession - he refuses to stay any longer than necessary, despite that this is the first time he has seen Luffy in years) to going after Blackbeard is now also his way of proving that he is worthy of Whitebeard and the rest of the crews love (despite the fact that we learn later on that they did not want him to go after Blackbeard for fear of his safety).

Every part of One Piece with Ace in it is bittersweet for me now, even these earlier chapters they aren't necessarily meant to be. Just. Knowing how deeply he was hurting, to the point of self-destruction, to the point where it took him dying to realize that he was in fact loved, and did want to live is so horrifically tragic.

[romancomicsblog]

Do we need live action heroes?

To me, nothing has ever gotten me excited quite like superheroes.

I remember way back to my 7th grade. I was 12 years old, and had an incredibly difficult time that year. I did not have many friends yet, transferring into a new school, and was struggling to connect to anyone.

All I had was in that huge building was my brother, who was off dealing with high school. My grades slipped, my friends from my old school slowly drifted, and I found myself running more and more back to heroes for comfort. Whether it be movies, comics, or animated shows, superheroes helped me escape what would be the worst year of my life that far, with most of my joy and anticipation that year surrounding one singular event.

2012’s The Avengers.

All year until May I watched the trailer, looked at posters, and watched Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Iron Man, Thor, or Captain America The First Avenger to get myself ready. I remember smiling, sitting for 3 hours in line before the film to get good seats for the gathering of my heroes, a culmination of years of waiting.

To this day, movies like Endgame or No Way Home come very close, but nothing felt like that to me. And while I understand part of it was me being a child, the MCU and other superhero movies have continued to give me comfort in the best of times and the worst times. They have constantly been a force for good for me and a way for me to connect to those around me. 

Which is why I’m sad to say, things have been bleak. Not in my life, but rather in the content that has been seen as acceptable to put out. Several big companies have been fumbling the ball lately with some devastatingly mediocre chapters in their respected sagas.

Last year was an abysmal year for DC, as they produced 4 flops at the box office. With the exception of Blue Beetle (which I love), each other entry in DC’s last year ranged from forgettable to downright abhorrent (I’m looking at you Flash). I was a big fan of the last Shazam and was pleasantly surprised by Aquaman, but both felt like they were going through the motions instead of bringing us exciting fresh takes on the characters that made the original two films great.

Due to the ever growing SPUMC (Sony Pictures Universe of Marvel Characters), we’re looking at a terrible year for superhero movies. We already had the perplexing Madame Web, with Venom The Last Dance and Kraven the Hunter to end the year. While these movies can have some fun performances, in general they feel sloppy, mismanaged, with subpar writing at best. As fun as it is to see Tom Hardy in a lobster tank, I don’t feel anything for Eddie Brock. And that sucks.

Finally, there’s the MCU.

Now, if you’re looking for me to bash entries in the MCU like The Marvels, you came to the wrong page, that’s not what this is.

In GENERAL, I like a lot of the swings they’ve taken since Endgame. Shang-Chi is still one of my favorite MCU movies. No Way Home had heart to it and wasn’t just a cash grab movie. Eternals had a vision and beauty I appreciate. Loki has one of my favorite finales of any tv show.

But they’ve been disconnected. It isn’t this seamless chapter book with a clear beginning, middle and end anymore. There is so much expansion with characters that we have no idea where they are going. To go back to just one of those I just mentioned, where is Shang-Chi? That movie was a hit, and yet we have yet to hear anything about a sequel or return.

Due to this focus on expansion, it’s hard to keep that connection with these characters if we don’t see them every few years. Where is America Chavez? Vision? Kingo? Thor? She-Hulk? This is a problem.

Couple this problem with the fact that VFX workers are worked to the bone, movies are being filmed without scripts finished, an emphasis on a multiverse storyline that doesn’t have a really clear path, and what seems like a vendetta against using comic book storylines, the films and television shows have been struggling to connect.

After all these catastrophes, you’d think it’d be a rough time to be a superhero fan. But really, it’s never been better.

Animation has been saving us.

To be fair, animation has always been respected and loved by the comic book community. X-Men the Animated Series, Batman the Animated Series, Young Justice, Spectacular Spider-Man and more have not only been people’s favorite superhero content, for many it is their in. I started by watching Spider-Man the Animated Series, and things have only gotten better from there.

Shows like My Adventures with Superman have reintroduced a new generation to Superman in a way that feels extremely accurate and fresh. It has also given us an incredibly adorable and heartfelt love story between Lois & Clark, something live action movies and shows really struggle with. Can you think of the last good couple in the MCU? And don’t say Spider-Man and MJ, because most of why we like them is because we like Tom and Zendaya.

Other shows like Invincible & Young Justice deal with heavy topics, such as grief, sexual orientation, gender identity, and trauma all in a way that feels human and real. Invincible in particular deals with grief and betrayal in its second season beautifully, all enhanced by incredible voice work from actors giving it their all.

Even the MCU has used animation in surprising ways. X-Men 97’ recently brought back the styling of the X-Men animated series, with the powerful messaging the X-Men are known for. With enhanced animation, a clear vision, and an emphasis on using classic comic book storylines, many are not only considering it a hit, but the best thing Marvel has done in years.

Even it’s more MCU heavy animated show What If had a much better second season, and while it’s not as deep or as good as the other shows I’ve mentioned, it’s worth noting it was a lot of lighthearted fun during the holidays. Definitely check out the Happy Hogan Die Hard episode.

Finally, Sony of all people gave us the best superhero film of the year last year with Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. While everyone expected it to be good, I don’t think anyone expected it to be such an achievement. With incredible voice acting, a meta narrative about fans' relationship to the character of Miles, incredibly human moments and of course, a hero no one can not root for, Spider-Man Across the Spider-Verse easily will go down as one of the best superhero movies ever made.

I remember the ending of the film, where our heroes are finally gathered, and Miles is faced with what seems like impossible odds, and as the music swells, Gwen Stacy asks the audience “Are you in?”

And that was the moment I felt it again. The excitement, the joy, I really was a kid again, jumping out of my seat excited to see Beyond the Spider-Verse.

So if we can use animation to tell stories that connect, that show love stories in a way we haven’t seen, action in a way we haven’t seen, utilizing and respecting comic books, all while drawing out incredible performances, why are we emphasizing live action? 

I don’t think we truly need more live action shows of B list characters. And to their credit, I think studios are noticing too. Marvel has a few more animated projects coming out, and DC will be releasing Creature Commandos this year. But they will be putting out just as many live action shows focused on expansion as they have been.

Is it time to reconsider how we tell these stories? 

I know no matter what I say, we will get live action. And I’d be lying if I were to say that many projects out there excite me. Superman, The Penguin, Spider-Man Noir to name a few.

But I think it’s time we use superheroes to go back to their roots. We should be using superheroes to bring artists and animators to the forefront. Shows like Invincible, My Adventures with Superman and X-Men 97’ give us a clear picture of what superhero media can and should be. Story driven, beautiful, and full of meaning. Something we as people can finally connect to.

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider following, and check out my socials and other sites here! And let me know: What's your favorite animated superhero show?

[citadelofmythoughts]

Ran into some shipping discourse recently and need to cleanse my pallet.

What’re your top 5 (if you have that many) RWBY ships and what do you love/like about them?

This is an open question to anyone who wants a chance to gush about their favs cause that’s what I need right now. Optimism, excitement, and seeing people “fan-person” about loving love.

Just to be fair, here’s mine!

1. Bumbleby: I love literally everything about them both as a couple and as individuals!

2. Nuts-and-Dolts: They’re two absolute optimistic sweet hearts who’ve had one of the truest connections I’ve ever seen. Just like the BYs, I love literally their entire characters with my entire heart and soul!

3. Icebyrd/Schneewoodforest: Completely fair that they haven’t had any interactions yet, but I absolutely believe that the potential and reason for them to get close is there.

Having the true, open, understanding, confident, and sexy as hell Robyn Hill help the cold, closed, troubled, confused, and also sexy as hell Winter Schnee is an incredible match for me. Robyn would love all of the positive traits that Winter has hidden away and would probably think that she’d be a great fit for the HHs; while Winter would love Robyn’s selfless personality and the fact that she can be true to herself.

Plus, given that Robyn is Mantle’s most trusted person and Winter was Ironwood’s (whom the people of Atlas trusted) second in command it only makes sense for them to work together in Vacuo to help the refugees.

4. Arkos: They also had a true connection. It’s just a shame that Jaune only realized it in V3. Just like BY I truly believe that they were meant to be and will always be connected, which is why I just CAN’T ship Jaune with anyone else. (Despite my endless love of Weiss’s: “mature” 😏)

5. Ghira/Kali: Dunno if they have a ship name buried somewhere. But they have one of only two healthy married relationships in the show and they’re both such amazing people! I’m REALLY praying that they both show up in Vacuo so I get to see more of them and they get to meet their daughter’s true love!

Again, please no discourse. Only love and appreciation, please!

Bumbleby always and forever. Absolutely perfect, astounding, soulmates. It's been such a ride for those two with the lowest low and the highest high. I mean going from Blake WANTING Yang to hate her so she wouldn't come trying to find her and risk her life in the process and Yang being so devastatingly sad and trying to mask that sadness with anger but all the while she missed her so much. And then the most amazing high ever, baring their souls in the most beautiful way in a literal fairy tale moment.

Nuts-N-Dolts hits my tragic romance buttons. I can't imagine falling in love, believing they died only to get them back and losing them again. It's part of the reason I believe that we haven't seen the last of Penny.

Renora You start of watching RWBY and being certain that they are already a couple but then you get to V7-8 and realize that their communication sucks and they've been unintentionally hurting each other for ages. But when they talk about it, it doesn't immediately fix things but it does start the healing process and I hope they eventually make it work

Frostbyte is a recent ship of mine. It's a bit of a crack ship because on the surface Weiss and Penny don't seem to have a lot in common but then you think about it and realize that they're both victims of Atlas society and have been used as things rather than people.

Ghira/Kali - look it's impossible not to love the best parents on Remnant and it's nice to have a shining example of mature love and it's so obvious that they adore each other even after all this time. I agree that I hope they're in Vacuo because they are going to love Yang so much.

[floundrickthewayfarer]

Why you should watch Stargate

This will consist of my ranting about why all the people who love Clone Wars/Bad Batch (or just sci-fi in general) should give Stargate a go! (@the-bi-space-ace, seeing you steadily watch your way through Stargate has inspired this slightly unhinged post.)

Do you love cool worldbuilding, interesting villains, and cheesy-yet-heartfelt storylines? Then you would love Stargate. Do you love Clone Wars/Bad Batch and wish the clones got more attention/more satisfying development? Stargate. Do you love exploring alien planets that all somehow look like Canada? Stargate. Alien politics and human politics? Stargate. Do you love silly, lighthearted episodes right next to devastatingly sad episodes that you'll never forget? Stargate!

Do you love clones? Yes? I thought so.

Then you'll love the Jaffa! They're one of my favorite parts of Stargate. Basically, the Jaffa are a group of genetically altered humans who are enslaved and forced to fight the never-ending war of a race of power-hungry, immortal beings who also brainwash them into worshipping them as gods.

Also the found family levels on this show are off the charts. All the characters are just the most loveable people ever, and they care about each other so much. There's Daniel, an archaeologist with allergies and a heart full of love! Samantha, an astrophysicist-Air Force Major who can techno-babble while she kicks your ass. Jack, who's just a walking bundle of trauma, humor, and C-4. Teal'c, the best character ever, a man who has flawless makeup no matter what's happening and is also an alien warrior with a heart of gold. He has pretty much all the traits we love so much about the clones (honor, loyalty, brotherhood, a bit of sass, stubbornness, bravery) all wrapped up in a Christopher-Judge-shaped package. :D

Anyway, this got way longer than I had planned, but... yeah. Stargate's great, and you should definitely give it a go if all this sounds like it's up your alley. :)

[jaskiercommabard]

📖 Fic rec time! When you get this, reply with three fics that you've read and loved to pieces, then pass on to at least five other people who read fics. Let’s appreciate fic writers and their amazing stories 💖

OOO!! Thank you for sending this!

I've been reading fic for like...more years than I'm ready to admit to so I'll rec some of my very favorite witcher fics + my favorite themes to narrow it down. These are all geraskier oops

Angst/hurt no comfort

goes without saying by Verbyna This is a brief two-part series that I must think about like twice a day at least. The author does something so magical and makes these characters so human, it completely takes my breath away. Thinking about this fic makes my stomach ache. Scrolling past the title in my bookmarks can make my heart drop into my gut. I have to really think about what kind of day I want to have if I'm going to read it, and I mean that in the best way. It's so visceral and wrenching and completely beautiful. If I had to pick a favorite witcher AU, I couldn't, but this one is in the seat of honor.

Hurt/comfort

Lessons in Mortality (orphaned)

This is one of the first fics I read in the fandom, and I hope the author is out there somewhere with warm socks and good pens. The character development in this is unmatched - the original character and her beautiful story in this fic are so compelling and enchanting, and yet she plays a perfect accompaniment to Geralt and Jask. This fic is so sweet, so in character, so carefully and purposefully written. I wish I had a chance to talk to the author before it was orphaned but they obviously put so much care into this piece that you really feel connected to the storyteller.

Slow Burn

and yet so far from death by @yoursummerfrost

I am sweating trying to pick a single summerfrost fic to recommend but this one sticks in my mind as one of those extremely special stories that I wouldn't be able to explain if I tried. Whatever is going on in author's head should be bottled and sold or maybe kept under lock and key in some kind of secret lab where only the military and like...very sexy bank robbers can find it. It's sticky-sweet and sad and has, hands down, the best ending (except for maybe the end of my other favorite summerfrost fic, out in the pouring rain (down on your knees) or possibly the end of my other other favorite summerfrost fic, don't tell me we've grown (for having loved) ).

Porn with plot

First Annual Belleteyn Fuckfest by @sheepishwolfy

Half what it says on the tin, half oh fuck oh fuck they have feelings there are so many feelings who let the feelings into this porn someone call the guards. The worldbuilding in this fic (and all of the author's works) is unparalleled. You are sweating in the spring heat, you're smelling the ale, you're eating sweets and hearing music and strolling between vendor stalls with a flower crown on your head and you are (devastatingly) not getting an exceedingly skilled blowjob from Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. This fic is definitely the closest you could get, though.

There are so so many more amazing fics that I have read and loved and cried over, I could go on forever. This fandom absolutely drew in some of the most talented creators I've ever had the pleasure to come across.

If you're one of the authors first of all wow hi I'm twirling my hair kicking my feet second, pleeeease let me know if you would like a tag or a rec removed and I will nix it!

[lurkingshan]

Young and Imperfect Character Growth

When I initially discussed Part 4 with @bengiyo, we had different takeaways about the way the story ended. I have always found the ending to be hopeful, if not happy, but it hit a little more bleak for Ben. I do think his read of it is completely legitimate--when you re-read the final passages of this book, they are deeply, devastatingly sad ("Gyu-ho. My only wish.") But our conversation got me thinking about why I found hope in the ending despite that, and @hyeoni-comb hit on part of it in their commentary:

and it's so important that, after Gyu-ho left, Young sat with that loss. was processing it and working through it. was openly affected by it and unable to bury his emotions or completely hide behind his previous tactics of hooking up and drinking. because - as much as it hurts - it signifies change.

The way Young actually mourned Gyu-ho, rather than simply moving on and pretending he didn't matter like with his previous partners, was a huge sign of growth. Young is a frustrating character, because he rarely actually says what he means or directly admits his feelings. You have to do a lot of reading between the lines with him, and look for the context around the things he does and does not say to understand the truth of how he feels. In our discussion of part 3, I noted that Young never actually says that Gyu-ho is the love of his life, but he doesn't have to because we can tell it's true by the way he thinks about him and describes their relationship.

But in part 4, Young got more explicit about how much he missed Gyu-ho, and he was actively sorting through his memories of him and working out his regrets as he attempted to move on. For Young, the master deflector, to admit someone mattered to him this much is actually a very big deal. For him to try his old coping mechanisms and have them fail and have him realize that, also huge. For him to name his deep sadness over losing Gyu-ho and actively try to work out his feelings via his writing is a very important step. It was enough to make me think Young may one day be able to understand his own self-sabotaging tendencies, figure out how to prevent the most harmful behaviors, and have a successful relationship.

And so for me, despite no romantic happily ever after, the ending didn't feel so bleak. I was happy to see Young beginning to work through his feelings and heal, though admittedly we left him in the rough, early stages of that process. Seeing his growth, as imperfect and non-linear as it may be, gave me hope for Young and his future.

[lucienne-thee-librarian]

More fic recs for DESIRE. Here we go!!!

Gen fics:

For I Loved You Once by locamohita is one of my favorites of all time because of the relationship between Dream and Desire. Like its if these two followed that scene in the Threshold up with trying to actually communicate except because it's Dream and Desire they're both absolutely shit at not pissing each other off. At least at first. Like, it NAILS these two better than most fics ever could and has them act exact way that they ARE Fucked Up Insane but it makes the rare moments of honesty and attempts to listen feel so much more real. It's frustrating and sad and hopeful and perfect in the BEST way.

Quicker and Easier by @zorawitch a human au that still manages to be an absolutely incredible character study of the twins and how deeply entwined they are on a cellular level.

You Were My Whole World (And You were Up and Gone) also by zorawitch features the death of the first Despair and how Desire is (not) coping. Like at all. Predictably, this is pure poetry and also you will cry.

Desire x reader fics:

These are SO FEW it makes me want to cry. It feels wrong on a cosmic level, but they do exist and there are some I can happily recommend but it's a short list.

You Know Me by @sometimesraven is super sweet and fluffy, Something More is a lot sadder but the writing is devastatingly good.

the screams of a ravished deer by thefudge - not super NSFW, but pure dreamy sensuality with an edge of danger, absolutely lush writing

Finite by lis-likes-fics - definitely NSFW, I cannot overhype this. If you're 18+ Go. Read it. Right tf now. Everything about this sucked me in (pun intended) from the beginning and the reader character has like. An actual interesting backstory that doesn't need to break immersion. The smut is GOURMET.

Red Thoughts also by lis-likes-fics PWP that is...ummmgood. Put this on my tombstone as my cause of death 😳🔥

Desire x Corinthian

A Failure of Gravity by Mare_Adamantis both this pair and Corintheus and it is. 11/10 weird smut and Angst and Feelings because of course...the Corinthian knows what he wants, Desire wants a toy...the writing and characterization are note perfect. And Jessamy makes an appearance!!!

(Wild thing) I think I love you (But I wanna know for sure) So come on, hold me tight, I love you by dancinbutterfly is part of a (sort of) human au but you can read this one on its own. It's just delightfully hot smut and yet so note perfect.

[crossdressingdeath]

One thing that I find both fascinating and deeply sad in TSatS is that when Will asks if they're going to Percy's house to ask him to come with them to Tartarus Nico says no on the grounds that he doesn't want to involve Percy in it... but when asked why Bob wouldn't ask Percy for help, Nico's immediate thought is that Bob didn't think Percy and Annabeth would help him. Like, that's his one and only theory. I suspect that there's a part of that where... Nico thinks to himself that Bob doesn't think Percy and Annabeth would help so that he doesn't have to think that he doesn't think Percy and Annabeth would help. In other words he's thinking it's Bob who didn't call for Percy and Annabeth because he didn't believe they'd help him, because the alternative is for Nico to say "I'm not asking them for help because I know they would say no and I don't want to face that refusal". And it's not that he wants them to come! If Nico had had his way he would've gone alone, he doesn't want to put anyone in danger, it's just that he managed to find the only demigod as stubborn as he is and made the mistake of telling Will what his plans were. But it's one thing to not want to involve people in something incredibly dangerous; it's quite another to know that if you asked for their help, and in this case their help saving the person they owe their lives to, they would say no. I'm sure they would be properly apologetic about refusing, they do seem to feel genuinely terrible about forgetting Bob (which... good) and "I'm not going to superhell again" is a perfectly understandable boundary to have, but I think Nico just... doesn't want to admit to himself that he was willing to go to Tartarus for Percy but Percy would never do the same for him. Hence him leaving it at "I don't want to make him do this" when asked if he'll ask Percy to help for his sake, but thinking quite openly to himself that Bob probably didn't think Percy and Annabeth would help, because Bob helped them out of loyalty to Nico so it isn't devastatingly sad to admit they'd never do the same for him the way it would be for Nico to admit that Percy would never go to Tartarus for him despite him going to Tartarus largely to help Percy.

Also, it's deeply disappointing that it doesn't come up again later in the book because please for the love of god Rick can we please have a discussion around Nico's fatal flaw being his "will literally go to hell and back for people who he knows would never do the same for him" level of loyalty and not holding grudges, and also how literally the only evidence even his own sister could offer for holding grudges being his fatal flaw was that he's the son of Hades and also was still upset about his sister dying six months after it happened. Now that he's got someone as loyal to him as he is to everyone else (Will refusing to not follow Nico to hell is so good after so long of Nico constantly being prepared to give up everything for others and getting next to nothing in return) it's a great time to get into how despite basically every other POV character going on about Nico being creepy and morally dubious actually his most consistent character trait is being the most loyal character in the whole series (and possibly the whole Riordanverse, honestly) no matter how many times that loyalty burns him.

[oldbutnotyetwise]

Talking to the Dead

     So recently my wife and I were walking our dog Kiwi through an area cemetery.  It is a nice part of this particular walk as it is quiet, peaceful and away from the traffic.  It also allows us to be beside each other so we can talk more easily.  City sidewalks are not conducive to my wife, my wheelchair and our dog Kiwi walking side by side.  This means any conversation must be had over the shoulder competing with the noise of passing traffic.  To be honest, that was hard at the best of times, and these aren’t the best of times.  Combine my mumbling with my dear wife’s denial of any hearing loss, our conversations could involve a lot of smiling and nodding with minimal comprehension.  The comment about my wife’s hearing loss, can we just keep that between us?  She’s a little sensitive about it.

     We were walking through the cemetery, chatting about different things enjoying the sunshine and fresh air when  Robin then turned to me and asked; “Where should I go to talk to you after?”  Meaning after I’m dead, it is one of the many things I love about Robin, we can talk about the hard things and it’s okay.  Deny it all we want, but we both know what’s coming so why not talk about it while we can.  If I do this last part of my life right, hopefully I will leave no unanswered questions and perhaps that will bring peace to those I am leaving behind.

     So where does one go to speak to those who have died?  Do we all do it?  This got me thinking about those times I spoke to those who had died.  I will clarify that these conversations can be held aloud, or as most of mine are, held totally in my head.  Although I may not be getting actual responses, sometimes in my heart I feel a connection to the person I am speaking with, I suspect because they still reside there in my heart.

     My Mom has been gone some 21 years and I speak to her from time to time.  Mostly I have been telling her about life  events and telling her that I am sorry that she is missing them.  I say that I wish she could have seen her granddaughter Elizabeth grow up into the amazing person she is.  I wish that she could have met my sweet Robin, I just know that they would have gotten along so well as they have so many things in common.  I tell her that the brave way she faced her cancer and left this earth inspires me daily as I walk a similar path.  My Dad has been gone ten years next month, I talk to him telling him that at the end of his life when I was making his healthcare decisions that I hope I got it right because it still haunts me.  I apologize to him that I wasn’t more patient with him and for feeling the need to correct his many tales.  My Dad was never one to let facts get in the way of a good story, I should have allowed him that.  I have lost some well loved friends along the way, I speak to them telling them how much I loved them and that I hope I was a good friend to them.  Sometimes I talk to them about how screwed up this world is getting, and I wonder what they would say about it.  I don’t hear their response but I take comfort as it feels like they are sitting there beside me.

     In Tom Hanks’ recent movie, A Man Called Otto, it shows Otto going to the cemetery with his lawn chair and thermos of coffee.  He sits there by his wife’s gravestone talking to Sonya like she is sitting there across the kitchen table, and not six feet under him.  It is poignantly heartwarming and devastatingly sad at the same time. In the movie An Unfinished Life, Robert Redford’s character Einar walks up the hill behind his house to his son’s grave almost daily where he sits on a bench and talks to his son updating him on mundane daily life.  Both characters seem to take comfort in the practice.  It makes me ponder what is more important, to speak or to be heard?

    Now I should confess that I have a love/hate relationship with cemeteries.  One part of me finds them to be of amazing historical significance.  Names of those long past, dates of their births and deaths, connecting them to a spouse or child.  Sometimes some snippet of information giving you a minute detail about a life lived.  There are the tombstones with lambs on them for the death of a loved child.  There are sections with row upon row of crosses for the Veterans who gave their lives In a foreign land at the whim of the politicians at the time.  Mostly cemeteries are peaceful, well maintained green space, with little to no traffic.  They have places to sit, sometimes under a tree, or perhaps just on a patch of grass.  Now I am a story teller who is always in search of a new story and it occurs to me that these places contain thousands of stories, most of them destined to remain untold forever, and I think that is sad.  

     One of my old running routes used to include the road that circled through a cemetery near my workplace, it added the extra distance to stretch my run on my lunch break to five kilometres.  It was a newer cemetery, not like the massive old ones that have thousands of graves, many over one hundred years old.  I would only occasionally see someone visiting a grave there, sometimes it was a fresh grave, more often than not it was an older person who I suspect was visiting their lost partner.  

     I don’t like the idea of being buried after I die.  The idea of burying my body in the ground to slowly rot and decay has no appeal to me. I have already arranged and paid for my cremation.  The whole dust to dust thing just makes sense to me. 

     So where should Robin go to talk with me after?  

     Well the best place would be to walk the trails I cut on our property up in Nipissing, but that is problematic because someone else owns that property now and I doubt he has maintained the trails that I built up over the four years of living there.  I did also hike the trails behind our property that cut through a hunt camp and then led to Crown Land, so that could work, although that’s a pretty long hike.

     She could go to the Lowville Bistro where we had our first date and subsequent wedding exactly one hundred and fifty months later.  Next to our property up north I would think that would be the next most significant spot.

     When I lived in Hamilton Robin and I would go with my dog Buddy to the Arboretum at the Royal Botanical Gardens where we would often hike the trails.  I had a yearly membership there but avoided it during the summer.  We would visit there often in the fall, winter and spring when less people were about.  There are a few places to sit, or lookouts we used to visit that would be a good place to sit and chat with me.

     Realistically I would tell her that any place, inside or outside, where she could sit in the quiet, and perhaps sip on a hot cup of tea would be a good place to talk to me.  I would encourage her to talk to me about what’s going on in her life, just like we did when we laid together in bed, wrapped in each others arms on our lazy mornings.  Those times when life was as perfect as life could be.

     Will I send messages back from the other side, and if so what would those messages look like?  

     I don’t know but I suspect the postal service and wifi won’t be up to par over there.  Some believe messages from the other side look like butterflies who might land on you, rainbows, birds (usually red cardinals), flowers, or finding coins, particularly dimes for some reason.  

     I have, or should say had a friend named Margot who also travelled on the ALS Highway with me for a bit.  She chose to exit this life on her birthday last December, but since then her Facebook page is still being updated. Did I mention she was a bit of a character?  Maybe she got the upgraded WiFi package on the other side.  The day after her death her Facebook page advised she had arrived safely at the Pearly Gates and that it was cocktail hour.  She advised us that she would still be around, “Just keep your eyes open for blue herons and ghosts with red lipstick”.  The Grand River is close to where I live, rest assured that when I see a Blue Heron I will smile and give a nod to Margot who is now flying free.

     Robin will know what my sign to her from the other side is, there is only really one thing it could be.  It will be the full moon, what we have always referred to as “our moon” because it was watching over us as we drove to our homes after our first date.  It was the moon we would point out to each other over our near fourteen years together, the moon we would stare at while wrapped in each others arms looking out our bedroom window on the farm.  It is the moon I will want her to gaze at, smiling as she remembers all the days we shared our moon together.  Most importantly I will be reminding her that there is always light in the darkness, and that is what I need her to always remember.

“It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light”

Aristotle

[callmearcturus]

aw yeah lets do this

S-Tier, AKA the Legitimately Good Tier:

HAWKEYE: Maybe my favorite MCU thing I have ever watched.

+ If you let Jeremy Renner actually act and give him a script, he's fucking great. + Kate Bishop is a perfect mess and I love her, I love she's young and excitable but also takes things seriously, she feels like she's a work in progress, I love her. + MAYA. Holy shit the gravity well of this character, how her presence dictates any scene she is in. Truly stellar. + This entire miniseries is like an extended apology for Hawkeye in every other appearance. "Sorry we dropped the ball with this character so consistently, we will bring the A game here." + The importance of disability. I'm among the ppl who was upset that Hawkeye's disability was dropped, so the way it is centered over and over and over in this, how its practical, how it's funny, how it's sad, how it gives us the most devastatingly emotional scene in all of the MCU yes I am talking about the phone call scene, finally. Fucking finally. + Florence fucking Pugh and her entire charm offensive. + The car chase scene.

- The first episode is unfortunately REALLY slow. - Nah that's all I got. I love this one.

THOR: RAGNAROK

+ "Asgard isn't a place, it's a people" is maybe the most poignant message any MCU film has ever managed. + Literally the funniest movie, but also basically a repair job of character building for everyone in it. + The camerawork in this one makes me so happy. + Tom Hiddleston is given so much to do and he's there with heels on, spectacular. + The giant turret/pegging visual pun, god bless. + Cate Blanchett can kill me.

- uuuuuuuuh. It's not as good as Hawkeye. Yeah.

GOTG Vol 2

+ Sorry but I am a GOTG Truther, I really do think its the one storyline in the MCU that is allowed to get away with really fucking intense character drama because it's not considered "main line." There is a reason ppl rioted when they tried to remove Gunn, and I'm with them. + The only good thing Chris Pratt has done since Parks and Rec. + The way this storyline centers on death and grief is devastating. + Rocket Racoon is the best character in the MCU and we all know it.

- I think the initial treatment of Mantis is REALLY rough even though in the end I think it works, but that's a hell of a hump to get over.

A-TIER, AKA the Great for a MCU Flick Tier:

BLACK PANTHER

+ My biggest problem with the MCU is the creative desert of its set and costume design, the way it feels like nothing is given time to breathe in the creative process. BP is the antithesis of that. I would watch a four hour documentary just on the visual design of this movie, from the architecture to the costumes to the make-up, everything. I don't want to hear from the director or writers, I want to hear four hours of just the craftspeople talking about their work. It's monumental. + Best Villain in the MCU, bar none. + Only MCU film to move me to actual tears in the movie theatre.

- I loved this movie! For the life of me I could not tell you the plot. I understand the plot of every Mission Impossible film but I don't know the plot of this movie. - If this movie was allowed to cut, like, 20 minutes of action and replace it with more character drama, it'd be the best MCU film.

IRON MAN 3

+ The MCU Movie That Pulls Exactly Zero Punches About Being About Mental Health And PTSD Holy Shit + Rhodey and Pepper get so much to do and I like an ensemble piece so much + Shane Black is in love with RDJ and I'm so happy for him + Pepper gets to be a lil monsterfied and that's hot

- Doesn't have Sam Rockwell. - The plot is kinda fully secondary to the character work, which imo is fine, but yanno.

GOTG Vol 1

+ All the stuff I said about GOTG Vol 1

- It's not Vol 2, which benefits from having all the bedrock foundation built by this movie to spring from.

B-TIER, AKA It's Fine I Guess:

IRON MAN 1

It's good! It invented the wheel! Part of it are fucking agonizingly painful to watch in 2023 but it also has more heart than 80% of the franchise so.

IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.

LOKI

Okay it feels shitty of me to judge this one on its technical faults bc apparently it was shot during the pandemic and that causes a lot of the issues with the camerawork, the awkward editing, and just how Weird everything was put together. But also it's REALLY stilted and awkward, which butts up against the good script and the better acting, so IDK man.

Owen Wilson is amazing. Even my mother thought the way they canonized Loki being bi was a cop-out. And the final twist pissed me off. I hope Season 2 is better.

THOR 1

I DUNNO WHAT TO TELL YOU, BUT KENNETH BRANAGH UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT.

DR STRANGE AND THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS

This movie is a mess but once i figured out it was trying to be The MCU Does Gothic Horror, I was a lot more on board. It has all the flaws of the original Dr Strange and is hard to visually follow like most MCU films, but also has America Chavez, who I adore.

IRON MAN 2

It has Sam Rockwell, I don't give a fuck.

C-TIER, AKA I wish I cared but I do not 8C

DR STRANGE

I dunno I like the actual character of Strange weirdly, I like what a complete fucking asshole he is, I like his god complex and how he reacts to his disability as a surgeon. On the other hand what the fuck is Tilda Swinton doing here, this is just awful. My biggest issue with this film is that it didn't have to be this terrible but every decision made about it feels so fucking thoughtless and myopic.

WANDAVISION

yanno. i cannot even explain why i fell off this so hard. Like, this one Had Me all the way up to and including the Agatha reveal, but like the final episodes after that reveal somehow left me completely cold and uncaring. it's genuinely weird.

D-TIER, AKA Oh my god no thank you

AVENGERS

I hate the writing. Like, I haaaaate the writing. I feel like the only likeable relationship in this is Tony and Bruce, and that does not carry this movie. The quip-driven writing, the way the need for a joke supercedes naturalistic voices and dialogue making sense, it pisses me off. I hate the writing. Heartless movie.

BLACK WIDOW

oh my god i'm actively angry at this movie okay because for the first 20 minutes, I was like "wait, is this going to be a real movie," because it felt smaller, the action felt more realistic, that fight between the Widow and Yelena in the beginning felt like it could have been out of MI: Fallout, and the other fight between Natasha and Yelena in the safehouse was also good, I really thought for a few moments that this could be Good

and then it just took a hard right into The MCU Tries And Fails To Make MI: Fallout (They Even Stole The Mask Gag, What The Fuck Was That) and not only was I disappointed, I was like retroactively pissed for the 20 minutes when I had hope in my heart. If not for David Harbour's character, I would have just left in the middle of this movie.

AVENGERS: ENDGAME

Its not at bad as Infinity War! Nebula and Rocket carried this movie on their fucking backs. But what do I know, I liked Renner's mohawk of sadness.

F-Tier, AKA Fuck This Movie

INFINITY WAR

Fuck this movie with a rusted steel dildo, fuck this entire fucking movie, I despise it. The writing is so actively fucking terrible I want to fistfight whoever is responsible. I fucking hate the attempts to humanize Thanos over how sad he is about the daughter he abused and then murdered, boo fucking hoo, I hate the joylessness of the superhero combinations, I hate the quip-driven writing, I hate this movie with a burning passion. This might be one of the worst movies I have ever seen. Soulless and destitute.