#just writing this gave me trauma episodes

[hampterguts]

kinda funny seeing that last queued tf post with me gushing in the tags abt the comic bc i havent felt joy or even an emotional connection reading mtmte for a while

[danyyytarggg]

HOTD is just a complete mess of a story with such abysmal writing that it’s actually mind-boggling to me that the writers really saw no issue with it.

there is no consistency or continuity to the show, and events seem to happen just to happen with no real impact on the story. examples: why did team green exist before viserys’ death if their motivation was going to be watered down to “viserys named aegon heir”? the show tried to beat in that alicent’s children were not safe under rhaenyra’s rule, further emphasized and solidified by aemond losing his eye; this was supposed to be the main motivation for putting aegon on the throne and the scenes on driftmark were perfect in showcasing the validity in alicent’s fears as well as solidifying alicent’s motivations for aegon. then, it’s all PROMPTLY forgotten in favor of a lame misunderstanding being the reason for aegon taking the throne. so really, what was the point in all that? another example, making aegon such a despicable person in season 1. really, what was the point in that if there was to be no continuity or impact or rhyme or reason for making aegon that way? none of it is ever mentioned again, none of his actions had any sort of impact, etc. no continuity or impact whatsoever, so what was the reason for having such triggering content in season 1? tasteless and disgusting. also, the deaths in this show serve NO impact and are forgotten from the minds of the characters so quickly: visenya, lucerys, jaehaerys, rhaenys, sunfyre (maybe?), the almost-death of aegon - there’s a lack of continuity in emotion and impact. the deaths happen, the characters react somewhat appropriately or not at all, and then they move on to the next episode and everything before is forgotten. ESPECIALLY emphasized by the fact that rhaenyra demanded a son for a son as if jaehaerys wasn’t dead for that exact reason. or helaena urging daemon on in his vision as if he’s NOT the man responsible? aemond caring for, at the very least, his mother and sister? gone. alicent caring for her children so much so that she tried to attack lucerys for aemond and stepped in front of a dragon for aegon? gone. aegon being forced on the throne when he never wanted it? gone and now is being given up by the woman who put him there. daemon being supportive of rhaenyra’s rule by the end of season 1? gone. there also seems to be no impact from the larys x alicent scene from season 1, so WHAT was the point of that?

the characters make absolutely no sense to me at this point. aemond, who cared for alicent and helaena, now cold, callous, power hungry, does not care for family. aemond cares more about his actions against lucerys than his actions against anyone in team green. alicent, who is driven by duty, honor, responsibility, religion and cares for her family, though has trouble showing it due to her trauma - sells out all her family members with the exception of helaena to rhaenyra? then asks rhaenyra to run away with her? huh? also, for the same reasons above, having alicent x criston cole makes no sense without showing us their progression. it just doesn’t make sense for alicent’s character to have a lover without showing us exactly how it all came to be instead of just showing us that it happened. and then for her to casually just bring it up to rhaenyra? alicent would NEVER. helaena attempting to help daemon despite the fact that he’s responsible for the murder of her son. even the sudden shift in helaena’s personality/character in the very last episode gave me whiplash and i’ve been wanting her to have a more substantial role in the plot. baela is continuously used as female reinforcement for everything rhaenyra says or does and as jace’s emotional support (that being said, i LOVE jacela, but baela’s character deserves more than just these two roles). rhaena is given like two or three talking scenes and then the rest is her just chasing after a dragon, leaving behind her younger siblings btw. which, i think having her character find strength and power without having a dragon would have done wonders but okay. aegon, i can’t even take seriously bc of his season 1 actions. same goes for larys. corlys forgetting that rhaena exists as an option for heir of driftmark, as if she isn’t the most deserving of that title.

EVERYTHING being boiled down to pro-rhaenyra. rhaenyra can never be in the wrong about anything. even jace’s very legitimate concerns, baela swooped in to convince him why he’s wrong in feeling the way that he does. rhaenyra imposes a blockade on king’s landing, a known fact, the people starve, she sends food - “rhaenyra remembers us even now!” daemon seeing a vision of rhaenyra on the throne, helaena urging daemon to do what’s right, alicent turning herself in to rhaenyra then asking rhaenyra to run away w her. one of her councilman voicing his concerns to daemon and whether rhaenyra is right for the throne because rhaenyra hasn’t done a single thing, does not attend council meetings, is not protecting her allies, refuses any sort of action at all - then demonizing said councilman even though his concerns are entirely founded. even making team green’s motivation for putting aegon on the throne being from a misunderstanding is inherently pro-rhaenyra. bc if their entire motivation is based on “viserys named aegon heir,” which we know is a misunderstanding, then OBJECTIVELY, team green is in the wrong. rather than going with the safety/protection motivation for team green, which wouldn’t have left them being so objectively in the wrong. and for all the love the show writers give to being pro-rhaenyra, they can’t even write rhaenyra well. she’s indecisive, takes no actions, just continuously begs off to go fight, doesn’t attend council meetings, cannot make a single plan on her own (all of her plans and wins have come from either mysaria or jace), is overall, not a strong or competent leader. after all this, they girlbossify her at the end when, after a whole season of doing basically nothing, she acquires three more dragons (which ALSO wasn’t an entirely smart move).

which can i also complain about the lack of strategy, diplomacy, and wits in the show? everything gets watered down to DRAGONS, which is also why rhaena’s arc is so disappointing imo.

additionally hate the lack of development and depth team black members get. it just all goes to rhaenyra and daemon (and SOMEWHAT jace), and that isn’t even done right. then you have team green who the writers TRY to give depth and development to but completely and utterly fail at creating anything truly meaningful.

lastly, i truly believe rhaenyra x alicent was a mistake, ONLY because the writers don’t know how to write it correctly. i really did enjoy the concept in season 1 until they made their relationship hijack the entire show. because of this, we didn’t get to see rhaenyra vs aegon at their full potential at ALL. it was replaced in favor for rhaenyra x alicent. i also believe this relationship is what screwed over the motivation of team green in the show because alicent needed a “just” reason to betray rhaenyra, therefore giving us the dumb misunderstanding trope. it also keeps either of the characters from diving into the potential their characters both have! it keeps them from engaging in war to its fullest extent! not to mention, having alicent throw away her entire family for rhaenyra is CRAZY. then to have her ask rhaenyra to run away with her? after everything? please. if they didn’t know how to write it in a well-written way, they shouldn’t have done rhaenyra x alicent at all bc i fully believe that it is a large reason as to why the show got so epically ruined with bad writing.

oh also, helaena and alys just spoiling major dance of the dragons plot points? i’m really not a fan of that, personally. and i really don’t know how the show is going to build off of this. it also takes away the impact that these scenes would have left on viewers if never spoiled onscreen.

oh last points promise - jaehaerys and jaehaera continuously NOT being called by their names and instead being called “the boy,” “the girl,” “the child,” angers me so much and is crazy minimization of their characters - probably to lessen the blow and impact of blood and cheese? and gwayne confronting criston cole about him sleeping with his sister, the dowager queen, in public, in front of everyone, with everyone watching? so poorly written and read like a badly written fanfiction on wattpad. the show writers forgetting that alicent x criston cole is very much not allowed in westeros and could get both in such crazy trouble by having that gwayne scene and alicent casually admitting to having a lover to rhaenyra is just bonkers.

[sundrop-writes]

Protective

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

Summary:

During his first full moon, Isaac needs to think of something to ground him - to keep his newfound powers from getting out of control. Derek suggests that he use anger, and he knows that Scott grounds himself with his love for Allison.

Isaac finds something in between - thinking of the anger he feels when you get hurt.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 9.

Word Count: 2,300

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: canon level violence - mentions of Isaac, Erica, and Boyd having to be chained up on the full moon (to avoid hurting themselves and others), mentions of Isaac's abusive father (somewhat graphic descriptions of the abuse that Isaac experienced); Isaac has a self deprecating inner monologue because of the psychological effects of his father's abuse; mentions of Isaac being injured by his father's abuse; the reader also has an abusive father and it's a point on which they related and bonded (and how they became such close friends); at one point the reader describes her abuse as being 'not as bad' as Isaac's abuse (but that is psychological trauma speaking); mentions of the reader experiencing physical and emotional abuse; reader is described as 'pretty girl' at one point in the fic (again, this is very self indulgent); Isaac has a crush on the reader but has never voiced it (it's implied that the reader feels the same way); Isaac and the reader exchange friendly physical affection; emotional angst - Isaac feels powerless for not being able to stop the reader's abuse; I think that's it for this short fic? The themes are on the darker side, but it comes from a personal place for me.

A/N: If you've been following me for any amount of time, then you know I have a thing for sad, abused characters. If you have read my Ellie fic 'My Heart Is The Worst Kind of Weapon' - then you would know why. Isaac is the kind of character I immediately connect to for deeply personal reasons, so watching the entirety of Teen Wolf through for the first time, I couldn't resist writing a fic about him. There will likely be more to come about him, but for now - here is this deeply self indulgent moment inspired by Season 2, Episode 9. If you don't relate to this, I hope you can enjoy it as a distant whumpy fiction, and if you can relate to it - I hope that Isaac can bring you some comfort like he has for me. Much love, happy reading.

...

While the chains rattled against the abandoned subway car and Isaac tried to ignore Erica’s groans of pain from having several large bolts bored into her head, he couldn’t help the question that was rattling around inside of him. 

“How do you do it?” Isaac asked Derek as he arranged the chains around his limbs. He was trying to push down the sickly familiarity of it - being restrained. He was trying to tell himself that it actually was for his own good this time, not just a sick punishment given to him by a powerless, unhinged old man. “How do you keep it under control?” 

“You have to find an anchor.” Derek told him, firm, determined. 

It was nice to focus on the conversation instead of the anxiety rising in his chest, so Isaac pressed on. 

“An anchor?” He questioned, unsure what Derek meant. “Like what?” 

“Yeah. Something else for you to focus on. For me it's anger.” Derek paused. “But it's not like that for everyone.” 

It was immediately obvious to Isaac who Derek was speaking of. 

“Scott.” 

He had Allison. It was some dreamy romantic bullshit - using his love for his girlfriend to keep from wolfing out. But apparently, it worked well for him. 

Derek gave a subtle nod. 

Isaac didn’t have anything like that. He didn’t have some cheesy romance to fall back onto. He didn’t have someone declaring a love for him so openly - because he wasn’t worth loving. Even with his father gone, the world had made it very clear that he was just a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe - a problem being passed around that nobody could seem to solve. 

“It just has to be something strong enough to keep your mind present. A strong feeling you can hold onto. Anger, love, resentment, regret, rage. Just find something that works for you.” 

Isaac nodded, and Derek went to check that Erica and Boyd were secure as the moonlight came to its full brightness. 

… 

It got Isaac thinking about you. 

You were probably the one person in his life who didn’t think he was a problem. The one person in his life who loved him, even if you didn’t say it out loud. 

He had felt all of those things - anger, love, resentment, regret, rage - the last time he had been with you. When he had been sitting in your bathroom, perched on the closed toilet seat lid after an argument with his father. Naturally, the argument had ended with Isaac having a black eye, and a large cut on his cheek from his father's ring colliding with his face. 

You were the only person he ever went to. No matter how bad things got, you were the only person he ever told. You were the only person who ever understood. Isaac had found out the hard way that your own father was much the same as his. On the first day of freshman year, he had seen you wearing a sweater when it had been a balmy, sunny day, and he had volunteered to be lab partners with you - partially to get closer to a pretty girl and partially because a gnawing feeling was going off in his stomach. 

Even back then - even when he was scrawny and powerless, his instinct to protect you had still been so strong. Even if all he could offer you was a shoulder to cry on and the chocolate bar out of his lunch, he looked at you and he felt the world turning on the simple hope that he could make your day just a bit better. Because he knew, even without words, by the tiredness in your eyes - that you suffered like he did. And he wanted so badly to make it better. 

When the two of you were doing an introductory experiment of baking soda and vinegar to cause the classic foaming volcanic reaction, the rubber gloves you had been wearing caused your sleeve to ride up, revealing a menacing purple bruise on your wrist. Isaac spotted it instantly, and when you locked eyes with him, he held nothing but deep understanding there - not shock or even pity. Nothing but deep understanding and warmth. 

He held your hand under the table for the rest of class, and you had never wanted to pull away. You felt a unique kind of mourning when the bell rang and you had to part ways. 

At lunch that day, you found him under the bleachers by the lacrosse field. Without so much as a word, only a cursory glance around to make sure that nobody else was watching, he pulled up his shirt, revealing an array of horrifying bruises to you - some purplish, some green, some faded yellow - all collected from different points throughout the summer. The time when he had been trapped at home with his father, having nowhere else to go as the man got more aggravated with his presence. 

You ran a gentle touch along the wounds - the most gentle touch he had been greeted with since his mother's death, something that easily brought him to tears. And from that moment on, the two of you had a silent understanding. You spent the rest of the lunch hour exchanging ‘war stories’ and laughing with a tainted dark humor about your separate twisted patriarchs. And the next time he was bloodied and bruised, he texted you to meet him under the bleachers in that same spot, and you didn’t hesitate to rush out of bed at three in the morning to get to him. 

It became a sacred place for the two of you to escape to when you needed it. 

The two of you became a sacred comfort to each other - knowing that there was little escape in telling the police or a guidance counselor, because you had nowhere else to go. 

Today, when Isaac called you, you found your house luckily empty. Your mother and your father were away visiting relatives in another state, so when Isaac told you that he needed you, you texted him the all clear to come over to your house for a reprieve. He was lucky to be able to spend the night somewhere else - to get to sleep in your bed, cuddled up close to you for comfort, without fear. 

He tried not to wince with pain as you dabbed disinfectant on the large cut across his cheek. He hated seeing you flinch with empathy every time his expression wavered even slightly. He could handle the pain. He could be better than this. 

“Isaac.” You sighed his name pitifully, clearly on the edge of tears. 

Both of you knew the thoughts that were pulsing thickly through your head, even without you having to speak them. 

Isaac didn’t deserve this. You wanted to hurt his father in return. You wished you could take away his pain, you wanted to help him escape from it. 

It was a ‘wishful thinking’ conversation that the two of you had dozens of times before. It always ended with you both more upset than when it started, so you swallowed up those thoughts now. But Isaac knew them too well, written across your face and swollen on your lips like the tears brimming your pretty eyes. 

You put down the cotton ball you had been using and turned your back to him, poorly hiding your crying as you stiffly wiped off your cheeks. 

“What do you want me to say?” He replied, hating that this whole thing had to upset you. “You know how it is.” 

To an extent, you didn't. Your father was a screamer. He yelled loud enough to shake the walls, but he rarely escalated to physical violence. You found that you were lucky if you escaped a fight with death threats and tears rather than having hands laid on you. Isaac came to school with fresh bruises every other week - you had to feel that he was worse off than you were. 

“We should just go.” You said, feeling bold in your suggestion. It felt obvious - escaping. “We should just run away. Get the hell away from all this.” 

You whipped back around, still feeling a terrible twinge of pain and sadness inside you at the bruising across his face, the fact that his cheek was definitely swelling up now. 

Isaac frowned. It was a nice dream, and he hated to be the one to dash right through it. 

“You know we can't do that.” Isaac sighed. Ever the realist. Of course. “Where the hell would we even go? With what money? No offense, but the couple hundred dollars you have saved up from babysitting isn't gonna get us anywhere.” 

“It's over fifteen-hundred.” You told him honestly. 

It was a nest egg that you had been sitting on since middle school, hoping to escape your father and never look back. When you met Isaac, you had another thing anchoring you to Beacon Hills, keeping you from buying the bus ticket you had always wanted. 

“But you're right. That'll get us - what? A couple of nights at a motel?” You let out a harsh, dry laugh. Trying to relieve some of the tension. “Well… we could go on a vacation? Escape for a few days?” You suggested, sounding hopeful. 

The idea of spending time alone with Isaac - a getaway where the two of you could pretend none of it was happening, even for a few days - it sounded like paradise. 

Isaac’s mind went to a dream-like vision - having you alone in a hotel room. A bed just for the two of you. Even just getting the chance to sleep peacefully with you, cuddle you, it sounded like a dream. 

He had to pull himself back before his mind went to places a friend shouldn’t stray. 

“A last hurrah before my dad kills me for running away on him.” Isaac sighed. 

The consequences of it would be inevitable. The two of you would have to come back home eventually. He knew that your father would likely feel much the same. He would never forgive himself if you ended up bruised and battered because of something he had encouraged you to do. 

You let out a sob then - the thought of Isaac dying by his father's hands had been all too real to you at times. A horror you imagined in your mind over and over again, especially after times he had come to you with half his torso nearly bruised black and he had been unable to move properly for days. His father was a monster, and you didn’t doubt that he would be capable of murder. 

Isaac rushed to stand up, and pulled you into a hug. His warmth, his arms surrounding you tightly - it was the only place you ever felt safe. You eagerly gripped him back, missing the wince he let out when you squeezed a bit too hard over one of his bruised ribs. But no - he would never fault you for holding onto him too tightly. 

Holding you like this - he felt like he had the world in his arms. Something tight in his chest, telling him that if anything ever happened to you, he would become the same kind of monster that his father was. But in the same way any threat to you made him boil over with rage - you made him gentle. You made him soft and loving. You were the only person in the world who made him feel okay to weep. 

He kissed the top of your head, not a stranger to comforting you with affection even though the two of you remained strictly as ‘friends’. As much as he yearned for more - you were a life vest while he was drowning and he wouldn't risk fucking that up just to kiss you and call you his girlfriend. He wouldn't throw any messy feelings into the mix. 

“It'll be okay.” He told you. 

Coming from his lips, you had to believe it. 

“Thank you, Isaac.” You sniffled. And then, something hit you. “You came over here for my help, and now you’re comforting me.” You let out another dry chuckle, clearly resisting the urge to scold yourself. 

“This is helping.” He told you, hugging you tighter. “This always helps.” He said the last part quieter, a dropped whisper that you could barely hear. 

It was a truth he was afraid to confront just yet. 

… 

But in the present, it was a truth that was helping him more than anything. 

Isaac hadn't spoken to you since he had gotten the Bite. He had been terrified of hurting you somehow. The last thing he ever wanted was to become the thing that you feared. It would have been his worst nightmare to be the one to make you cower in a corner and cry rather than to be the one giving you comfort from it. 

As the moon came to a full wane overhead, and the mighty rage and power pulsed through his veins, Isaac thought of you. He thought of using that power to tear apart anybody who had ever hurt you - to finally free you from those tears. He thought of giving you the same relief he had felt when his father died. He thought of his love for you, even if it was a silent love that he had never gotten the chance to voice. 

“I see you found your anchor.” Derek remarked to Isaac later, after he had gotten Erica and Boyd back in their chains, tightening Isaac’s binds once again, if only as a precaution. 

“I did.” 

Derek looked at him with intrigue, as if waiting for him to explain. 

“Well, you said that you use anger. And Scott uses love.” Isaac told him. “I guess that mine is… some combination of both.” 

“Protectiveness.” Derek explained. “That's what wolves call it.”

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and I wrote this to be a closed off story/its own little moment inspired by the show. This is a complete story, however, if there is enough interest, I might turn this concept into a longer oneshot and expand on the idea. It would not be me writing a 'part 2' of this, it would be me using this concept and writing a longer oneshot. I do have a personal vested interest in writing about powerful characters defeating abusers, but currently I don't have the time to turn this into something longer, so this is all I wrote. Please do not harass me about making this longer or posting something more, and if you're going to leave a comment asking for a continuation, please also tell me what you liked about this current story. Though I have something else in mind, I do consider this to be a completed story on its own.

[madreemeritus]

Stella was depicted as an abuser since her first appearance in LooLoo Land. Stolas wakes up next to her, miserable. Defeated. The way she steals all of his blanket, leaving him vulnerable and cold, while denying to check on their child that was screaming for help, is VERY CLEARLY a sign of her disgusting behaviour.

In "You will be okay", Stolas melancholically sings about how his life is over and how he would never find love nor happiness, yet even still, he is able to find strenght and be with his daughter. Stolas is a SURVIVOR. He isn't whiny, he isn't dramatic, he isn't responsible for Stella's abuse. He was a teenage boy forced to be a father, a husband and a guardian of legions and powerful magics. He is a VICTIM and, most importantly, a SURVIVOR.

Later in the Episode, Octavia wakes up with her mother screaming, yelling and destroying Stolas's belongings. This is abuse. This isn't she being "reactive over his cheating", this is abuse. She is not a hysterical silly woman angry because her husband cheated on her, she is an abuser. Octavia, growing up in a dysfunctional house and unaware of the abuse her father was going through, doesnt understand the situation around her and thinks both her parents are to blame. She is a 17yo clueless child that grew up with a physically, emotionally and sexually abusive woman as her mother. OF COURSE she thinks her parents "used to love each other until Stolas cheated". But the audience KNOWS what is truly going on. Yes, Stolas's haters, Stella's defenders are also audience. They know Stolas is a victim. They just don't care, they pretend the show brought Stella's abuse "out of nowhere" when no. It was always there.

When Stolas offers to take Octavia out, he says "anything but staying in this house". Their house is hostile. Neither Via nor Stolas call it home. And the responsible for this hostality is NOT Stolas, it's Stella. When Stolas takes accountability for putting Via in an uncomfortable situation that she didn't consent to (what a good father would do), he tries to tell her about his and Stella's relationship.

"You have to understand. Your mother and I... we weren't in.. she hasn't been... I haven't been... I'm sorry, I don't have the words."

This is a victim. Stolas is unable to tell the truth, because he doesn't want Via to see her mother as a villain. Even though she is. Stolas is a victim, trying to protect his daugther from what he knows will hurt her. He was about to tell her that he and Stella were never in love, that she hasn't been a good person but a nasty abuser that ruined his life, but he couldn't let it go. This is trauma response. I know it's all obvious, but it's tragic that we still need to explain the obvious.

During season 1, Stella was shown emotionally abusing Stolas, neglecting their kid and abusing him in front of their kid, throwing objects and people at him, destroying his things and paying an assassin to kill him. All because she felt offended because he cheated on her with an IMP, a class that she ACTIVELY and PROPOSELY mistreats (no, it's not the same as Stolas's internalized bigotry, which is still bad, but Stella knows what she is doing and she enjoys doing it). She was always an abuser, it was NEVER a "mutually destructive" relationship. Her defenders chose to not see this.

After The Circus, we had the three reveals about Stella that made it impossible to defend her: 1, they were forced to marry, 2, she physically abused him as well, and 3, Via only exists because Stella raped Stolas multiple times. Neither of these are retcoms, neither of these "came out of nowhere". Stella was always depicted as an abuser, the show just added more context. THIS IS NOT BAD WRITING, this is a depiction of a type of abuse that society REFUSES to believe that happens.

Stolas is not responsible for anything. His "cheating" doesn't make him a bad person. As himself quoted, "cheating implies that there was betrayal. This woman never gave two fucks about me, nor our so called arranged marriage". There is no cheating. Stolas was forced to marry her, he was abused by her and he chose to move on with his life. He doesn't have to be forever stuck with his abuser and never meet anyone else in his life just because. IF they had a consensual, loving marriage and he suddenly decided to cheat, then yes, he would be the one to blame (YET EVEN STILL, KILLING THE PERSON THAT CHEATED ON YOU IS UNJUSTIFIABLE. CHEATING SUCKS. TAKING SOMEONE'S LIFE IS PURE EVIL), but this is not what happened. Stolas did nothing wrong regarding his relationship with Stella, he didn't "cheat", he didn't deserve to be abused nor having his life threatened by her.

Yes, Stella was also forced to marry him. Yes, she was also forced to be a mother in her teenage years. You know what she wasn't forced to do? She wasnt forced to hit Stolas, she wasn't forced to rape Stolas, she wasn't forced to host parties to humiliate him, she wasn't forced to pay an assassin to kill him. She chose to be an abuser. If she was a decent person, they could have been allies in a bad situation. But she isn't a decent person, she chose to make his life miserable.

As Stella's defenders are unable to understand that rape and abuse aren't ok just because they were done by a cishet rich racist woman, let's change the perspective: is Angel Dust cheating on Valentino? It's heavily implied that they had a consensual relationship, full of love on Angel's side, until Val became more and more abusive. Is Angel, by disobeying him, sleeping with other men (outside of work) and falling in love with Husk, cheating? Does he deserve to be raped, enslaved and trafficked because he's "also to blame"? No, he doesn't. Angel is a victim, Valentino is an abuser.

Stolas is not a flawless person. But pretending Stella "did nothing wrong" and is just "bad written" while hating Stolas for evils that he never did (x) (x) (x) (x) is just vile. A media is not "bad written" just because you don't like it, this is an accurate depiction of domestic violence where the victim is a gay, neurodivergent, socially isolated man and the abuser is a woman with every single social priviledge that a queerphobic, patriarchal society expects. This is not bad writting. You just have bad faith against the authors, ops I mean, agaisnt the only queer woman working on the writing procress.

[gffa]

Something I really, really liked about the first two Ahsoka episodes is just how prickly Ahsoka is when she doesn’t want to deal with something. She’s not handling everything with Sabine all that well, she’s still hung up on her guilt about Anakin even almost three decades later, to the point that it’s spilling over onto her relationship with Sabine, she still feels distant from Hera, she’s downright almost mean to Sabine after she loses the map, there’s very little sense of whimsy or fun to her, she’s calm on the surface, but very much still a hot mess underneath. Felony gets a lot of shit for the way he talks about his favorite character (and not undeservedly so) but the way he writes her here, is not actually a perfect character but instead a complicated and thorny character who is legitimately really, really engaging to me and is allowed the room to make mistakes and be messy. She is not the most True Jedi Who Ever Was. She’s still ignoring her feelings! She’s still afraid to let go of Anakin! She’s still holding herself at arm’s length because she’s scared of losing people and being hurt again! These are all things that are foundational to being a Jedi to deal with! And she doesn’t! Because she tells herself she’s not a Jedi and so she doesn’t have to do the things a Jedi needs to do, doesn’t have to confront and let go of her feelings, and she just leaves things where they lie! And it makes her relationships prickly and clouded and messy, all while being completely understadable, she was dealt a hand that’s an impossible mountain to climb, with leaving the Jedi Order, with the genocide of her people, with the death of her entire extended family, with the Force being darkened by the Sith, with the devastating truth about Anakin, with never being able to go back to the Jedi Order like she wanted because the Jedi Order was stolen from her--all of that is a deep level of trauma that haunts her and she hasn’t pulled it out of her heart yet, and it makes me love her all the more. This show said, “Let Ahsoka be a living, breathing character who has a story worth telling because it’s not easy and it’s not perfect, but it’s heartfelt and deeply caring.” and then gave it to us.

[yanderederee]

SleepOver

June1st, 2004

a/n: coping w past trauma go brrrrrr— I thought it was a cute idea. I hope yall like it♡ longer than my usual words tbh, 3.5k words… whoops. ALSO!!! I love! Writing! For MamaBaji Ryoko! Why is she also lowkey a comfort character at this point? Pls read it for her if nothing else ♡

c/w: off screen child ab*se, fluffy comfort though.

before! › now! › after!

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Keisuke and Ryoko Baji were sat on their living room sofa, eyes glued to the TV. This was it, the finale of their favorite detective-murder-mystery show. Already half an hour into the episode, they were at the edge of their seats. All the answers to all the mysteries would soon come to light…

That is, until the shrill call of the home phone broke the tension.

“Kei, you get it.” Ryoko said quickly, eyes not leaving the screen. Keisuke clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Just let it ring, I ain’t missing this!”

His mother threw an empty beer can at him weakly. “It’s bad luck to not answer a phone call!”

Keisuke gave an exaggerated groan, before doing as he was told. “Don’t let me miss anything!” He called before picking the phone from its receiver. If only he could simply pause the show for a moment to pick up where he left off….alas, it is 2004—-

“What?” He asked rudely. Before he could even have the chance to correct himself with a proper greeting, the eerie sound of crying stopped him in his tracks.

“K-kei…” your strained voice rang loud— despite it only being a whisper.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Where are you?” He rapid fired questions, already itching to throw on his shoes.

“H… he hit me… not l-like usual… I—“ you cried even harder, breaking your poor boyfriend’s heart.

“That fucking bastard… are you still at home?” He asked. Honestly, he was eager to speed over and beat your father to a fucking pulp. He’d only met the guy once, by accident. After he learned of your father’s disgusting habit of hitting you anytime he was frustrated, Baji made it a point to make sure you were home as little as possible. He should have rocked his shit the second he first found out.

“He… kicked me out. I kind of already started walking to your place… if that’s okay,” you said softly, worriedly. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you beforehand, if it any trouble- I’ll—“ you began to excuse yourself, in case inviting yourself over on such short notice was a nuisance.

“I’m on my way. Keep walking along the same path we always do, I’ll find you. I’ll take mom’s phone with me just in case, call me if anything changes, okay? I’ll be there in just a few minutes.” Keisuke sped his words out, turning to his mom expectingly. “I’m sorry….” You sobbed into the reciever. “Don’t apologize, don’t ever apologize. I’ll be there soon, I promise.” He replied softly. “I’ll see you soon, remember, call me on mom’s phone if you need me before I show up.”

After he’d receiving your confirmed response, he hung up the phone and ran to his room to grab his bike keys. “Who was that? Where are you going? Why do you need my phone?” Ryoko called out, worried.

“Y/n. I’m picking her up. Need your phone just in case, alright?” Keisuke said, rather than asked. Her eyes grew wide with worry, quickly pulling the decise out of her purse to hand it to him.

“What happened?” She asked, but her son was in too much of a hurry, already stepping on the heel of his shoes. “I’ll be back,” he gave no further explanation, before running out of his apartment and down the stairs.

After retrieving his bike, he was off like a bat out of hell on route to you. Keisuke could remember the path you both took to walk back and forth between each other’s homes even if he was blindfolded at this point.

True to his word, it had only taken 7 minutes to reach you; who was walking small on the furthest edge of the street. “Y/n!” He yelled after you, skidding his bike to a halt, too quickly had he hopped off and kicked over his kickstand.

He ran to you, arms open for you as you rammed yourself into his chest, tugging tightly to his tee shirt.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He said calmly, careful to maintain his composure for you. He didn’t want you mistaking his pent up aggression as your fault. He could wait to release it the next time he saw your father.

“Keisuke..” you sobbed into his shirt, shaking like a leaf when his arms wrapped around you tightly. “I know. Don’t cry anymore, everything’s fine now.” He did his best at comforting you, even if he wasn’t confident in his ability to do so.

“Let’s go home, we can stop by the corner store and grab some snacks on our way. ‘You ate dinner yet?”

He pulled away, just enough to look at your poor face. God, you bruised fast. Keisuke hated how much the sight sent him over the edge. He always looked at you to feel steady and at ease with all the was wrong in the world. Yet now, seeing you so upset, hair disheveled, tear stained, and bruised… he wasn’t sure how long his restraint would last.

Still, your angelic smile took him out of his grotesque thoughts of violence. You smiled like you were so relieved to see him. Despite your poor state, you were happy to finally be held by your ever concerned boyfriend. “I’d like that…” you whispered, throwing your arms over his shoulders again before burrowing into the crook of his neck.

Baji took a deep— deep breath, before letting it out, and holding you tighter.

How many times would he break his promise of protecting you? The pain of not being able to do so was slowly eating away at him.

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When you both finally made it home safe, Ryoko was sitting at the table, fiddling with a cup of tea anxiously. Quick to greet you both, the mother all but froze upon seeing your bruised face. Similarly to her son, her stomach sank and turned. Unable to hide her prickling of tears, Ryoko rushed over to you and held you in her arms tightly.

“Oh honey…” she whispered into your hair, holding back from crying as best she could. Things like this didn’t usually upset her, she’d gotten used to her son coming home with much worse a long time ago.

But you were a different story. You didn’t deserve any of the hurt that came your way.

The feeling of being embraced by her motherly scent, you were quick to tip over the edge as well. You were just emotionally vulnerable right now, you couldn’t help when fresh hot tears came spilling over onto her shirt.

“Sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.” She said with a squeeze, a final look over of your face, before dashing off to the bathroom.

Unsure, you looked over at your boyfriend. He gave you a warm smile and smoothed a hand over your back. Walking with you andsitting next to you on the couch, he pulled open the bag from the corner store. “I know you said you were cool with it, but you’re sure Yakisoba’s alright for dinner? I mean, I do it all the time I guess so I ain’t one to talk but—“

“What? Have you not eaten?” Ryoko asked with furrowed brows, hands full with anti-swelling gel and an ice pack. Nervously, you looked down in your lap. Ryoko sighed, sitting on her knees while giving your face another look over. “It’s okay, I’m not mad sweetheart. I’m happy you’re here,” she said kindly, resting her hand on your opposite cheek. “If you ever need anything, we’ll help you. You don’t even need to ask, okay?” She said while looking you in the eyes, apparently emotional as she did so.

You tried to reply to her kind words, but got chocked up before you could. So instead, you nodded softly, hugging her. She hugged you back, looked at her son, glancing at the first aid materials laid out on the table, and back to him, expectedly.

Keisuke nodded to his mother when she gave you another final squeeze before lifting to her feet. “I was just about to whip up some dinner,” she lied with an award winning grin. “Any requests?” She asked, already halfway to the kitchen.

“Her cooking sucks, but it’s tolerable—“ Keisuke began to tease, expecting to have to dodge a thrown ladle in response. But given the situation, Ryoko’s death glare was equally as bone chilling.

You giggled at the exchange, feeling a weight of tension lifting off your shoulders being in the casual and warm home. “No ma’am, no requests.” You replied. “She likes extra konbu in her soup, and extra rice.” Baji called over, grinning ear to ear when you gave him an embarrassed shove.

“Here,”Keisuke held the ice pack up, now that it wasn’t dangerously cold to hold against your face. Still cold to the touch, you flinched unexpectedly. “Hold that on there for a while. ‘Less you want to be spoiled, I can hold it for ya” he chuckled in jest.

“I got it, thanks.” You chuckled back, and held the ice pack to your cheek.

Keisuke was practically a professional when it came to patching up wounds, ever since his mom started making him to do it himself years ago. He’d be sure to help you apply the anti swelling gel after dinner.

To waste the time, Keisuke quickly turned on the re-run for his show’s finale.

You’d seen enough episodes to know a few characters names, and some important plot points, but still fell short of many of the shocking twists the show threw at your flabbergasted boyfriend.

Sitting so closely on the couch was still a little foreign to you, normally used to sitting side by side on the floor pillows. It felt weird when your knees would touch eachother, or when his arm would casually fall behind you in the back of the couch, his warmth radiating against the back of your neck.

You felt yourself wanting to lean closer, to lay your head against his shoulder. Perhaps if you were alone, you would be so bold. But with his mother just a few feet away; you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

“Damn that was good!” The youngest Baji hollered with glee. “I know right! Even I couldn’t have saw that one coming!” Ryoko hollered back with a laugh. “Alright, dinners ready!”

Quick to help you up from the couch by ever so chivalrously taking your hand in his, you both made way to sit at the table with giddy little smiles.

It wasn’t much, and while Baji’s off-handed comment wasn’t incorrect, you felt as though you’d just finished eating the best dinner you’d had in a very long time.

“Thanks for the meal!” You tried gathering the dishes together to help clean, but Ryoko simply wouldn’t allow it. “I’m glad someone appreciated it,” she chuckled before beginning the washing.

“About tonight, I’d offer you Keisuke’s bed tonight; but that brat can’t keep his room clean to save his life. The sheet probably hasn’t been—“ “I just washed them three weeks ago!” “Oh my god.” She sighed.

“Anyway, if you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ll have Kei bring out a few blankets to lay on. Is that okay?” She asked worried.

“I really shouldn’t impose,” you tried to deflect the act of kindness, but the thought of going home made you physically want to throw up. “But… as long as you’re okay with having me, the couch is plenty. Thank you so much.”

Ryoko smiled happily, and gave her son a quick look, as if to tell him to fetch what she’d asked for. He obediently got up from his spot at the table, and left to bring in the spare blankets. “Do you need a shower?”

“No ma’am.” “You’re sure? You don’t have to be shy, I’ll lock Kei in his room so he won’t peek.”

“I WOULDNT DO THAT!” Keisuke yelled at the top of his lungs with a red face.

You laughed. “No, I’m alright, really.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back with some night clothes.” She patted your head before walking off to her room.

All the attention had began to overwhelm you, as you started fidgeting in the dinning room chair. It was a lot, more than you could get used to in such a short time.

“Sorry, I can tell you’re probably uncomfortable. That’s just the way she is.” Your boyfriend spoke in a quiet tone, as to not alert his mother in the room over. “She just really cares about you. ‘Appreciate you for putting up with her.”

You both sat in silence for a few seconds, until you stood up and helped with tucking in some blankets between the couch cushions. “You have a really good mom, Kei. I understand why you’re so serious about doing well in school now. Let’s work together to make her proud, okay?” You said to him, earning you a shocked look.

The shock wore off, and left behind a childlike smile. “Let’s do our best.” He agreed, patting your head gently, til his hands began running down the sides of your hair, and onto your cheek.

The genuine moment shared between you two made your heard pound. He’s touch was so gentle and considerate. Had you only known Baji as a brawler, the act would have seemed foreign coming from him. But you knew Keisuke as a gentle person, who loves animals enough to care for the local strays, who looked out for his friends, and fought on their behalf.

This was just another side of him you absolutely adored.

The tension created was undeniable, as you both slowly leaned into one another, threatening to share a kiss in his own living room.

“Alright, here you go!” Ryoko called out loud, as if intentionally. Your faces both went red at being caught to blatantly. “T-thank you!” You yelled back, quick to your feet and to grab the garments from her arms. “I’ll get changed.”

Quick to lock yourself into the bathroom, you couldn’t get over how hot your face was burning. The swelling on your cheek stung at the blood flow, eventually bringing you back to reality.

About why you were there in the first place. You looked in the mirror, assessing the damage for yourself. It was definitely dark, but the swelling was not as bad as it could have been.

As you changed out of your day clothes and into the clean night wear, you noticed something funny. The sweatpants fit fine, but the shirt was considerably large. Looking it over, it was a black shirt with a skull print. Definitely Keisuke’s.

Did she accidentally give you the wrong shirt? Still, as you brought the collar up to hide the lower half of your face, you could smell his usual scent over the laundry detergent. It was so comforting.

After folding your clothes as neatly as possible, you left the bathroom and headed back to the living room.

“Alright let’s see… a plastic bag to store your clothes… an extra pillow… that should be everything.” Ryoko yawned. “Alright, time to call it a night. I work in the morning, but I’ll be quiet so I don’t wake you. Sleep well Y/n~”

She escaped to her room, but quickly gave a shout, “You too Keisuke! Go to bed and don’t try pulling any funny business! My door’s open!”

Keisuke clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes at her final comment.

“Here, let me help you with this real quick, then I’ll be out of your hair.” He said while pulling out the gel from earlier. Careful as to not apply any unnecessary pressure, his middle finger gently rubbed circles into your cheek. You sat patiently as he did so, happy to be taken care of as if you were made of glass.

Once he’d finished, he tried retracting his hand, but… couldn’t. Keisuke looked over your face again, disappointed. “I’m sorry this happened…” he whispered, and hung his head. His hand followed suit, gripped in a fist as it rested beside you on the couch. “I keep saying I’ll protect you, yet…”

You smiled, accepting that it was your turn to comfort his insecurities. “You take care of me more than you realize, Kei… I couldn’t be selfish enough to ask for anything more.”

Baji sighed, laying his head in your lap.

“You should be more selfish, yaknow that?”

“I’ve always taken care of myself. I’ll manage.” You said softly.

It didn’t do anything to comfort him though.

Suddenly, an idea popped in his head. He smiled, and looked up at you from his resting position. “How’s learning self-defense sound? I’ll teach ya.”

Your eyes widened. “Learn self defense? Like, how to fight? I don’t think—“ you nervously looked away, but Keisuke took your hand in his, leaning closer. “Not how to fight, dummy. I’d rather kill someone than let you fight. Just some basic self-defense. Well, maybe more intermediate.” He thought about it eagerly. “Please? I swear I won’t be hard on you. I’ll even demonstrate with Chifuyu first so you know what to do.”

Keisuke has always been a pretty passionate guy, but right now, he was absolutely starry eyed.

Always quick to give in, you giggled at his eagerness. “Sure, I think that’s a good idea.”

After agreeing to his idea of teaching you how to defend yourself, and a final call from his mom to leave you alone, he finally departed into his own room.

Even with all the lights off, and no voices echoing through the small apartment… it felt like a home. A genuine home. It was nothing like the cold, large and quiet house you visited after school.

You felt safe, secure under the cozy blankets. The couch was comfortable, and the extra pillows elevated your head to lesson the swelling in the morning.

Therefore, There was no reason for you to be awake still, after two hours of tossing and turning.

It’s not like you were uncomfortable. Why couldn’t you go to sleep? Perhaps it was because your mind was working overtime. When you went home in the morning, dad was sure to be pissed at you for not coming home, even if he was the one to kick you out in the first place.

You were literally damned if you did return, and damned if you didn’t. You were worried about the consequences. Would he hit you the same as he did just a few hours ago? Would he ignore you? Ground you? Forbid you from seeing Baji ever again?

Well, it’s not like he knew Baji was your boyfriend in the first place. He probably already forgot all about his existence.

Still, the possibilities kept multiplying, causing you to stir with upset.

“Hey, you still awake…?” A soft whisper called from the other end of the living room. Turning to face the sound, you found Keiuske standing awkwardly. “Yeah…” you whispered back in a disappointed tone. “Can I sit with you?” He asked right after; already making his way closer to you.

You could never deny him, ever.

“Of course,” you smiled at him through the darkness, finally able to make out his facial features with him closer now, seated on the floor by your head. “Why are you still awake?”

Keisuke rested his arm on the couch, laying his head like a pillow against it as he stared at you. “I dunno.” He lied. It was easy to tell when he lied when he looked at you so sincerely.

“You sure?” You doubled down, propping your head up on your wrist to look down at him. He didn’t look away.

“I just…” Keisuke thought about his next words carefully. “I don’t know why, really… guess I’m just restless.”

You nodded, folding back a piece of hair that fell in his face. “Me too.” you lied. And he could tell. He didn’t call you out on it though. Playing with his hair eventually lead to you running your fingers through it, the same as you would when petting PekeJ. This brought Baji so much comfort, his eyes started slacking.

Not wanting to say anything to ruin the mood, you silently kept petting Baji’s smooth hair through your fingers., occasionally running your nails along his scalp to ease him further. While he began to doze off, you took time to appreciate how pretty your boyfriend was.

His clear complexion, although littered with tiny battle scars. His thick eyebrows, permanently narrowed to give him his signature resting bitch face. The faint scent of strawberry chapstick, the same one you gifted him after teasing him about how chapped his lips were for your first kiss.

Everything about him made you feel so at ease. Completely entranced, you couldn’t think about anything else.

No stupid stuff like your family, at least.

Once you were certain he had fallen asleep, you leaned in close and laid a kiss on his forehead. “I love you,”you whispered away from his ear, not wanting to wake him.

And despite not being conscious, Keisuke smiled.

You pulled one of the multiple blankets off of you, and gently draped it over him.

You laid your head down again, and watched the back of his eyelids dance in slumber, his soft snoring helping ease you to sleep yourself.

taglist: @lovley212 ,

[akajustmerry]

I didn't really like the helmet grab by Michonne in towl. I didn't think it was necessary for them to make her do that even though I know they were trying to show how angry she was. Am I overthinking this?

forgive me but I actually think you're not thinking enough. You're not thinking about what's happened from michonne's perspective. even if you were, you're not extending her any empathy because writing off her as just "angry" does not cut it here

....Michonne had to carry on believing rick was dead for FIVE YEARS, raising their kids despite that grief and then when she was given the smallest hope he was alive she gave up another 2 years with her kids, risking her life in the wastelands, surviving chlorine poisoning, and enduring more fucking trauma with nothing keeping her going but the fact that she loved him and would not give up looking...... AND THEN she finds him against all those odds and rick had the CAUCACITY to try and trick her into ABANDONING HIM and insinuate that she DOESN'T TRULY LOVE HIM UNLESS SHE DOES??? of fucking COURSE she rips that dumb fucking helmet off his head!! she wants him to say that nonsense to her FACE, hear how insane it sounds, and be greeted with the only appropriate response to an assertion so ludicrous: silence.

When my dad and I watched that episode we both agreed rick actually got off easy for trying to pull that shit after what michonne had been through. My dad even left the room when rick was bragging about his stoopid plan to trick michonne into leaving to jadis because my dad is very sensitive to second hand embarrassment and rick was so fucking idiotic for trying to do that to michonne and thinking it would work.

ALSO.....something that I've ranted about before is this idea of an empathy gap between how people see white characters and characters of colour (ESPECIALLY Black characters) because such is the racism of the world that people simply don't empathise or even sympathise with characters of colour because they've been conditioned not to. Years of racist media conditions you to empathise with white characters almost instinctively even when they're wrong. In this case, rick was wrong. Totally wrong, despite his intentions. He was dishonest, condescending, and inconsiderate. Michonne had every right to be angry and every right to show him how angry she was. The fact that you're uncomfortable with that maybe means you haven't really paid mind to what michonne has been through and maybe you haven't done that because she's a Black woman. Personally, I loved that scene so much and I also love all the scenes in ep4 where she's pissed off because michonne isn't just rick's love interest she's a protagonist in her own right and she's NEVER not once accepted less, even from him.

anyway, hope you don't think I'm being mean! I've just seen weird discourse about that scene that is so unnecessary. It simply wouldn't be a thing if people actually cared about michonne as a character, rather than just as one half of a ship.

[juniperhillpatient]

I have talked about this a lot before but it’s on my mind & also it’s something that really should be discussed more in Buffy fandom -

People are constantly talking about how Spike defies all the rules Buffy was taught about demons & vampires & rightfully so. A vampire falling in love with a slayer & fighting for his soul for her is such a romantic notion & I do love it but the nuance of Spike’s arc is even more interesting than that! He does love Buffy but not only that he befriends the Scoobies too. He brings flowers for Joyce after she dies. He helps prove that Tara is not a demon when her family tries to gaslight her & isolate her. He becomes a pseudo big brother to Dawn.

And yet none of that is even what I’m here to talk about! Spike IS a hero & he does have a long spanning redemption arc before the soul (& we’re NOT here to talk about Seeing Red right now, as usual that topic is too expansive & requires its own post) that should be acknowledged & his character is rightfully praised but he is NOT the only exception to vampires having nuance & it drives me crazy that we act like he is. The Judge isn’t just talking to Spike when he says this:

“You TWO.” He’s talking about Drusilla too! He says that they share affection & jealousy. That Angelus in his total sociopathic lack of human emotion is the odd one here.

Then you have things like this -

Conversations with Dead People has Buffy sharing a very long & deep conversation with an old acquaintance turned vampire. And it’s far from the only example in universe of a vampire retaining some sense of camaraderie with people from their life!

That’s right this entire rant has been a lead up to talk about my best girly Harmony Kendall. You’ve fallen for my ruse if you’ve read this far muahaha! Admittedly Harmony’s strongest moments are mostly unfortunately on Angel but even in season four of Buffy when she dates Spike she is clearly intended at times to be sympathetic. Season 4 is also interesting because we see a lot interactions between various gangs of vampires like Harmony’s so-called minions & even Sundays gang where they’re very much evil but also sharing in living (existing?) space & acting like bickering roommates or siblings. Like creatures with bonds & personalities & intricacies.

The point I’m trying to make is that the show never truly wants to grapple with the existence of Spike in all his nuance but it’s also not just about him! In general there is so much to grapple with in the idea that vampires can change & be redeemed & I’m not saying I’m anti scary evil vampires I’m just saying the universe gave us these hints of nuance & then the characters never grappled with it & that’s lame. For Buffy killing things that have a shot at redemption however small would be a major emotional blow if she ever addressed it! Especially in her season 5 “am I just a killer 🥺” arc. Let’s deal with the implications!

Let’s deal with Xander’s trauma about killing Jessie & just how much it would/should hurt for him to see Spike increasingly choose good & work with the Scoobies. I would LOVE to know Xander’s reaction to Harmony’s arc on Angel or Cordelia befriending her & letting her go ina world where the writing acknowledges that he drove a stake through his best friends heart!

It’s just that the writers accidentally complicated their own lore & then totally refused to ever let their characters address what the cracks in the stories they tell themselves mean. Giles says that a vampire is no longer the person but instead the thing that killed them. What’s scarier: the idea that your loved one was killed & something wears their face like a mask OR much more insane (to me) the idea that your loved one came back very wrong but it’s still them? Your brother eats people now but he still remembers how you like your eggs & can quote every episode of the cartoon you watched as kids. Your mom murdered that woman from the PTA who always talked too much in cold blood but she still remembers the recipe for your favorite pancakes. The show wanted scary vampires but it got so caught up in never addressing the infinitely more complex & scarier vampires it accidentally created & sticking to the more simplistic initial idea that it did both the characters & lore very dirty. And I’ll never shut up about it!!!

[lurkingshan]

A list of sins in the Wandee Goodday finale

Yak finally confessed that he is still having hallucinations when he steps into the ring—and Dee did NOT tell him to bow out of the fight.

Dee magically cured Yak’s years long trauma ringside and there were zero consequences for Yak lying and hiding his mental health struggles for the entire show.

Yak gave a big speech about Dee believing in him more than he believed in himself—which is not the actual story we got on our screens. Cool fanwank of your own show, though, I guess!

The show began with telling us that Yak could not be out with a man because of the effect of homophobia on his career, and now he’s doing love confessions in the ring and this is apparently fine. Add it to the list of GMMTV shows trying to have it both ways with the bubble.

They only gave us Kao’s love story via a retrospective exposition dump and an awkwardly shoehorned in asexuality PSA. They could have actually written him a plot and showed us these themes, but I guess that was too much to ask.

The money problems magically went away by Yak winning one fight, and there was no fallout for Yei hiding things from Cher.

Ter and Taem were paired up as expected—A POX ON YOUR HOUSES WRITING TEAM. Everyone who caught the signs that they intended to redeem Ter was correct; I have no idea why they chose to have him harass and assault Dee when this was their intention the entire time. Pairing him with a character who survived a different assault makes it so much worse. Just another sign of the poor judgment behind this show.

Yak’s graduation becomes a background detail handled with a two second appearance in a montage.

And instead we spend time on a very strange PSA telling us that old people have sex, too? How this is relevant to anything I could not tell you.

Continuing their bad dynamic from the entire story, Dee pretends he’s not going to thank Yak in his little beauty pageant speech (that he’s giving for receiving a professional scholarship, for some reason). Contra the writers of this show, I don’t actually think it’s funny that Yak feels so insecure and Dee is always fucking with him.

DEE SANG A GODDAMN SONG. WHY?!? This show has just gotten so embarrassing.

Dee finally asks Yak to be his “real” boyfriend, but it has no meaning because he already has been for weeks. And they already did the big public kiss moment in episode 11! It’s like they wanted the tension of not letting them get together until the end but were not willing to sacrifice the weekly ship moments so they tried to have it both ways. It just did not work. Tell a good story or make a branded pair content vehicle removed from story, you can’t do both.

They made Yei and Cher’s wedding kiss so weird by having Yak and Dee do it first whyyyyyyyyyyy

Welp! At least I got to see Oyei and Cher get married; I’ll be hanging onto that one.

This one goes down as the show that finally pushed me over the edge re: GMMTV and their tendency to start strong before completely losing the plot. I was primed to love this show and it thoroughly let me down. None of the threads they set up at the start were followed through and virtually nothing that happened in this story had real consequences or meaningfully mattered. What an absolute waste of a fantastic cast and a solid and fun premise. I will be skipping most GMMTV dramas going forward unless I hear they hold up all the way through.

[very-straight-blog]

Making Aegon a r*pist was lazy writing, and it only further demonstrate how the screenwriters aren't able to understand the concept of "grey character".

Do I think it should be completely overlooked? No. Because even if he didn't hurt Helaena he did r*pe Dyana (it was completely useless to his character and it only served the purpose of making him appear more irredeemable, but that's beside the point), and he should be held accountable for it by the viewers at the very least.

Do I also think Aegon's sexual trauma — that would be having to sire children at FUCKING FOURTEEN — was grossly overlooked and glazed over not only by the viewers but also by the screenwriters, and that it could have been represented in a vast variety of more poignant ways (for example, instead of making Aemond an SA victim because yes, they could have given Aegon that kind of relationship with the madame and dive deeper on how he seeks the love he doesn't receive from his family elsewhere)? Do I also think the screenwriters treated Aegon unjustly just because they are not capable of handling a male character with such deep, complex scars that cannot be fully explained in an eight-episodes-long series, and have therefore decided to butcher him because they prioritized hype instead of delivering an actual good product to the public?

Yes. Yes to all of that. As a mainly TB fan I felt myself being forced into my faction, because "who would support a r*pist?", and I came to find unjust how unreasonable this argument is: Daemon and Viserys are r*pists too, with the former literally asking young virgins be set aside for him in brothels and the latter being seen forcing himself on Alicent. Neither of them is held nearly as accountable for their misdeeds as Aegon, and to this day I don't understand why.

I agree with everything here in general and will talk a bit about this topic (I like to talk about Aegon, in case someone suddenly didn't notice).

Yes, the show certainly manipulates facts to endear viewers to one character and make them hate another. Almost everyone in this story has done terrible things, but a lot of fans behave as if the incident with Dyana was the worst of them. Well, I don't know, what about those women Daemon slept with in the brothels? Who often didn't want to be there, who were very young, because he preferred virgins. What about that servant who was killed to hide Laenor's escape? What about Rhea, whom Daemon killed in cold blood to marry Rhaenyra? And so on and so forth. And believe me, such planned crimes shock me much more than what the drunken idiot Aegon did without even remembering it later. Once again, did he do a bad thing? Yes. Is he a good person (character)? No. But at least I'm not trying to make him into someone he's not. And yes - Aegon is still an interesting and complex character that I adore. Not a villain and not just a "drunk and r*pist."

The problem is how his actions are presented to the viewer. Our acquaintance with adult Aegon literally begins with this rape scene, this is our first impression of the character. Aegon has eight minutes of screen time in the first season, and three of them are devoted to the discussion of this incident. Plus, they don't give him anything that could justify it. Did Daemon kill his wife? Well, he did it for love. And this is deeply explored, we're forced to sympathize with the character and then we easily forgive him for such an act. Aegon is shown simply as an asshole without any redeeming traits.

Time skips cleverly mask the fact that Aegon and Helaena were teenagers at best when the twins were born. Helaena gave birth to TWO children at such an early age, they became parents against their own will, not being ready for it. It's interesting, it adds depth to the characters, it might explain why Aegon drinks so much - but of course the screenwriters won't show us that.

Again, Aegon's hypersexuality isn't something funny, it's not what makes him an asshole, it's a sign of trauma. He uses it to numb his loneliness. I believe that Aegon literally didn't have the opportunity to feel what love is in any form. His father disliked him and showed it openly. His mother loved him, but she never knew how to express it the way he needed to. He was married to his sister (the tragedy for both of them) and it was a matter of duty, not feelings. At the time of the first season, Aegon is deeply unhappy and this is obvious. I have every reason to believe that his need for physical intimacy is based on the fact that this is the only form of love he can receive. Considering that Aegon is quite smart, I even think that he himself understands how ugly this form is, but there's nothing he can do. During the act, I guess in some unhealthy way it really saves him from loneliness, longing and the need to be loved, but in the end it makes him even more unhappy.

My thought turned out to be a bit messy and it's time for me to shut up, otherwise I'll never finish, but the point is that the show manipulates the audience to create "the right" point of view for them and it's very annoying. And they also don't know how to create deep, controversial characters at all.

[avelera]

OFMD S2 Meta - Stede's Garbage Self-Worth with regards to Ed is still unresolved

(And I'm so hyped for this plotline)

H'ok! So of all the scenes in episodes 1-3 of OFMD S2, this is the one I've been most hyped to discuss but I've been putting it off a few days so people had at least a little time to watch the new eps.

Gifs are courtesy of @ratchet from this gifset:

Hoooo BOY this is such an interesting scene to unpack! Because to me there's at least 3 levels going on here.

What Lucius hears

What the audience "hears"

What Stede literally said

Thing is, I believe when Stede says, "I'm not ready to believe that," the tone that Lucius hears and that the audience is at least 50/50 expected to hear based on the sort of cadence of the scene is, "I'm not ready to believe that Ed's best days are behind him. I'm going to change that."

But I'm not convinced that's what Stede is saying, what Rhys Darby is portraying, or what is literally on the page.

Literally, on the page, Stede says he's not ready to believe that. And given that Stede is very neurodivergent coded, Rhys is self-confessed autistic, and I believe Rhys is bringing that to his portrayal of Stede, I think we really should look at literal words as written and not just run with they're implied to say. This could be read as a declaration that Stede refuses to accept a reality where Ed's best days are behind him or the literal reading: he still can't process that Ed Teach's time with Stede Bonnet was the best Ed's life is ever going to get.

I believe this is for multiple reasons:

Stede isn't going to throw off a lifetime of low self-esteem and bullying overnight just because he's realized he's in love. Especially when the manner of realizing it (end of S1) was hurting the person he loves pretty badly by abandoning him without a word. He's determined to fix his mistakes but each step of the journey is revealing just how big of a mistake it actually was. Not exactly the stuff of sudden self-confidence and positive self-image change.

It requires a full re-write in Stede's brain of every single assumption he had about his relationship with Ed before their separation. Stede in S1, to my eyes, very much saw himself as the junior partner in the relationship. He saw Ed as taking pity on him, to some extent. He felt blessed to have Ed there. It informed so much of their relationship and it especially informed him taking off when he thought his presence was an active burden on Ed. Basically, what Lucius is saying here attacks the very foundations of Stede's understanding of the happiest part of his life so far. To learn that Ed wasn't just the happiest part of his life, but that he, Stede Bonnet, was the happiest part of Ed's life? Whew. Fuck. Not good. Very not good.

Because it's really not good if he was the happiest part of Ed's life, that he so fundamentally misunderstood their dynamic because of his low self-esteem, that he ended the happiest period of Ed's life without warning, without a note, prematurely, and left Ed with the inescapable conclusion that Stede doesn't care about him.

I think worse, even worse, is that Stede has evidence that Lucius is right that he was the best part of Ed's life. But in S1, we're heavily in Stede's POV and Stede's POV of himself is that he's a joke, pathetic, garbage, lucky to have someone like Ed in his life. But Ed's literal actions, louder than words, are that he chose Stede. He gave up piracy for him. He stayed by him. He offered his life for Stede's. Stede wasn't ready to hear that then, he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own low self-esteem whispering poison in his ear, externalized by the Badmintons (both real and imagined). He took their words as fact, rather than Ed's actions as fact. Reexamining Ed's actions shows just how wrong they were. Just how wrong Stede was. And just how badly he hurt Ed because he didn't listen to Ed, the person he loves, over the voices of his own trauma, self-doubt, or of the Badmintons, people who literally hated Stede.

It's a lot. It's a lot for Stede to take in. He's not there yet. But I love that we've had it said aloud: this is a major plot point still. Stede's end-of-S1 glow-up didn't signal that he's self-confident now enough to realize he might be as good for Ed as Ed is for him. He's still grappling with that. It shatters him to even begin to realize this. They have to work through that still. Stede is ready to start listening but he still doesn't, can't literally can't, believe it just yet. It's just too big.

And I am absolutely salivating to see how the rest of the season deals with this thread.

[glitter-stained]

My very personal rating of every lazarus pit fanon side effects I've ever read, ranked from favourite to least favourite :

Tapetum lucidum (the thing cats have that makes their eyes gleam in the dark): that's so creepy and cool, eery in a more discreet way than a full-on glow, idk who hced that first but they are a genius

Contaminated blood laced with the lazarus protein: because our blood renews itself pretty often, this implies the existence of either a lazarus organ that continues to pump the lazarus protein in the blood, or, more probably, the contamination of one of the blood producing organs, maybe of the bone marrow, by the Lazarus pit. Like imagine the Lazarus Pit changing you down to the inside of your bone... The implications are so fascinating I'd love to read more about it.

Altered dna: this doesn't make sense, how does the magical healing pit change your dna, I love it so much, tell me more about the magic gatorade that rewrites dna

Accelerated healing/enhancements: what's funnier, that the pit gave Jason metahuman abilities like being able to withstand a meteorite and going toe-to-toe with Deathstroke (the wiki's words, not mine) and it was just never discussed, or that nothing Jason went through gave him these abilities that he really shouldn't have and he still does and it was just never discussed? I don't know but still, that stuff is top-tier

Glowing green eyes: on the one hand, eyes that glow when the person is feeling intense negative emotions (even better it's not just rage, like, imagine having a flashback or nightmare or getting fear toxined and their eyes glow and people think they're about to attack but they just scream that'd be so cool) but on the other hand, I feel like the colour is too limiting. Sure, Ra's or Riddler can fuck with the glowing green but come on, my girl Cass deserves eyes that glow gold (like the gold from the Batgirl suit). Jason deserves to have glowing red eyes. Cicero says that eyes are the reflection of the soul and while I love the idea of the lazarus pit being toxic, contaminating a part of the person's soul, in comics, a character's colour scheme is an essential part of their graphic identity, and I think altering it to the point of giving it a totally different colour is too much for my taste personally. Like, you are still the same person that you were before the bad thing happened. Yes, it changed you irrevocably, but you are still yourself and you should still have the right to your name and to the colour of your soul.

Lazarus Rage/Pit Madness: so I've seen this one criticized pretty often, often because of how unnecessary, and honestly probably damaging, to the understanding of Jason's character after his resurrection. And like, I agree, but also I've found myself to enjoy the fanon version of the Batfam. Like, I don't like that it's murky and confusing sometimes to figure out which is fanon or canon and that that leads people to judging canon actions from a standard of fanon information, and parts of it can be sexist or racist or classist, but the same can be said from canon, you have to be critical with what you consume. Basically to me there are two batfams and I consume both differently and enjoy both, and in the context of fanon I enjoy Pit Madness. The idea of uncontrollable, alien rage is fun, is angsty, and as someone with intense anger issues I'm telling you writing a lazarus rage episode was one of the most cathartic things I've ever written and it felt so good. I also think part of the upset on the subject is a bit undeserved because I see people complain that "the lazarus doesn't work like that because it didn't do that to other people" as if the way the lazarus pit worked made any sense. You're telling me this stuff healed Jason's malnutrition but it didn't fix his trauma? That it healed the Riddler's brain cancer but couldn't be bothered to fuck with Jason's hypertrophied amygdala and the fucked up connections between his amygdala and hippocampus??! Obviously we can't expect dc to know or care about science that much , but I still have the right to be nerdy about it. Jason went into the pit resurrected by God and with brain damage and Ra's said it was a plague and that could make him crazy, I fully believe he could have gotten Pit Madness even if the others hadn't.

Eye-colour change: that's the same thing as the glowing part but without the fun part, really dislike it. I need to be able to listen to I know these eyes/this man is dead from the Count of MonteCristo Musical while making up Under the Red Hood edits in my head please and thank you

Lazarus Pit brings people back to life: I hate it so much dc stop treating life and death so inconsequentially oh my gosh characters fighting life and death situations should not have a source of immortality right in hand I hate that lazarus resin lazarus toxin stuff they have right now and the idea that the pits can bring back to life plays into that idea so I really dislike it. I understand the appeal, it's the basics of coming back wrong with a side of rebirth in the water but instead of being purified it's being poisoned, but I just can't get over how frustrating it is to see a beloved character die and only be able to say I hope he doesn't come back for his own sake and then he comes back. Urgh.

[blackfliesinbluesugar]

I really don't understand why the show is paced like this, I just don't? Even if they were told at production they would ONLY have 8 episodes, low chance of a s2, that this was all they'd get - I dunno, how is sucking all of the fun and investment out of your plot the best solution outside of, like, writing what you reasonably can and then maybe trying for a comic book or something? Again, I know that's shit feeling, I know it'd suck, I know it'd hurt. But again, even if this is the only medium you WANT to tell your story in, how is telling it BADLY the answer? It's crashing 50k words of fic into a list of bulletpoints.

I don't care about any of these characters. Not because I'm some spurned anti or someone who went in ready to hate - I've fandomed this show since June 2019. I've been obsessed with these characters and world. I have written nearly half a million words of fanfiction for these guys, including all of the background characters they keep giving love like Molly and Mimzy and Rosie. But that's all fanon, and I know how to seperate that in my brain. Which means I love the idea of these characters - I'm thrilled to see even the little cameos, It feels like fanservice in a way that makes me buzz with energy - but I don't love the characters. In canon, I don't care about Alastor, or Husk, or Charlie. I actively feel disinterest in ones like Camille and Vaggie and Adam. They have no depth, only gesturing at interesting ideas and trauma. Angel, I'm STARTING to care about, but they only gave him a real personality AFTER dropping all of his trauma on us. So great. It's discord group chats all over again.

Just.. why. Is doing 3 seasons worth in 1 season really worth it? Is it, frankly, better than nothing at all? I cared more about these guys when I had the privelege of assuming they'd have deep developed arcs and connections, that the hotel denizens would get a chance to bond and interact and flesh themselves out. Now they're pretty png's standing vaguely near each other, occasionally breaking into song or crying about their past. Big whoop.

I wish s1 had developed the hotel solely - no Velvette, no Camille, no Zestial, no Mimzy, no Sera or Emily or Lucifer or Lilith, and then saved that stuff for s2 when we CARE about our protagonists and can afford to care about other characters, instead of all of them being 'cool, I guess'

I'm sad. I'm really sad. I waited over 4 years for a slideshow.

[enlitment]

The Voltaire-Rousseau Beef aka V v. JJ part III.

for @stars-in-the-night , @headsinsand and other great (and amazingly patient) readers

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

7. THE ORPHANAGE (to be read in Eliza Hamilton's voice)

The one thing from his personal life that Rousseau is probably best remembered for is the fact that he gave up all five children he had with his long-term partner, Thérèse, to a Parisian orphanage. One after the other, in what could be called a rapid succession, a simple case of salut and adieu.

The reasons he gave for his behaviour differ from ‘I have fallen with a bad crowd in Paris and this is just what people around me did’ and ‘I basically had no other option anyway’ (not true, he could have married Thérèse and try to make it work. Sure, money was tight, and someone could make a few snarky remarks about the first baby looking surprisingly big for a six-month old or whatever, but these things happened quite regularly. Also, Diderot married his working-class mistress despite his father’s stern disapproval. Just saying) to – now this comes up somewhat later in the Confessions and is significantly darker – ‘I really hated Thérèse’s family and thought it would be better to let my kids be raised by the state than be around them’.

If this was him trying to break a cycle of generational trauma though – perhaps one of the side of his own family as well –  I’d argue there were far better ways of going about it. There’s also potentially one even darker, quasi-psychoanalytical reason for this now infamous choice, but it’s probably best to steer clear of Freud. Nothing good usually comes out of it.

Of course, doing something like this would make anyone seem like a douchebag, but a guy famous for writing a treatise on how to best raise children?* Guy who repeatedly argued that the single purpose of a woman’s life is to be a mother? Now that’s a hypocrisy so deliciously juicy that one simply cannot resist sharing it with the world!

*interestingly enough, he insists in the Confessions that he wanted to reveal this information in his On Education (aka Emile), and that in one of the book's passages, he alluded to this episode in such a way that he ‘basically confessed to it already’. I haven’t found that part yet, and I remain somewhat sceptical about whether this is truly the case.

8. SECOND INTERMEZZO: VOLTAIRE THE AVID HATE-READER

V on Julie, or the New Heloise: „silly, middle-class, dirty-minded and boring“

V on Profession of Faith of a Savoyard Vicar: „I read his On Education. These are reasonings of a stupid nurse in four volumes, of which forty pages directed against Christianity. They are among the most daring that have ever been written, [but] by virtue of inconsistency worthy of this head without a brain and this Diogenes* with no heart, he uttered as much abuse against the philosophers, as against Jesus Christ.“ (letter to Damilaville, 1762)

*calling JJ ‘Diogenes’ was definitely a trend in the 1700s, and what seems like V’s go-to insult for him. Calling him a ‘lackey of Diogenes’ does potentially get a bit kink-shame-y though...

9. A MOUNTAIN AND AN AVALENCHE

The last post featured an earthquake in Portugal, now get ready for a distinctly Swiss natural disaster!

To be perfectly fair to Voltaire, although he was certainly not a person who was above spreading gossip, he did have a good reason to publish what he knew about Rousseau and let all hell break loose, since...

in Rousseau’s Letters Written from the Mountain published in 1763, JJ had exposed Voltaire as the author of the infamous Sermon of the Fifty, an anti-christian work that had the potential to get its author into serious trouble. Voltaire could not and would not let this slide – especially when he had the perfect weapon on his hands. Payback time!

Voltaire therefore went on to publish a short anonymous pamphlet titled Sentiments des Citoyens (aka How Citizens Feel – since JJ proudly called himself ‘citizen of Geneva’ in his works and he championed sentiments over reason – see, it’s all very clever!) in which he exposed details from Rousseau’s personal life. This of course included the most shocking, most hypocritical, and most memorable detail of all: Rousseau, Mr. Family First, Mr. Let’s-raise-precious-children-in-a-way-that-won’t-corrupt-their-natural-godness had dumped all of his offspring into a Parisian orphanage! Not so virtuous now, is it?

Interestingly, Rousseau never put two and two together and realised Voltaire was the real author of the fateful pamphlet. It would be interesting to see how he would react had he known.

That said, much like d’Alembert’s article on Geneva a couple of years earlier, the Sentiments des Citoyens led JJ to pick up a pen once again to do what he did best: to defend the poorest and most oppressed souls against the cruel and unjust world. Which usually just happened to be himself.

And thus, as Roger Pearson, an author of one of Voltaire's many biographies concludes:

“we have Voltaire to thank for (…) being the catalyst of Rousseau’s Confessions” which he calls “one of the world’s great autobiographies”

(no, not like that @chaotic-history. Though now I cannot unsee it every time I read the quote)

->

Tune in next time for the (mis)adventure in Britain which will feature:

another philosopher - David Hume - dragged into the mess

a fake letter from Frederick the Great (that was actually penned by the most messy gossip of a person in the 18th century)

a genuinely funny statue story with an appearance from d'Alembert

[hihereami]

It DESTROYS ME that season 10 of doctor who is so overlooked as it is --  i feel like its the season where we can see the writing grow, its the season of BILL MOTHERFUCKING POTTS, the funkiest and loveliest lesbian in the universe, the season of the 12th Doctor in his most grandpa, his most compassionate and hopeful, the season of ‘‘without hope without witness without reward’‘, the season that marks Missy’s depth as it never was before, the season where we get gems - absolute gems like Oxygen (what a terrifying episode, good god) and The Pyramid at the end of the world/The Lie of The land (is it goofy at times? yes! is it the time where Bill’s imaginative nature and conviction saves the day? Also yes! Do I wish we knew more about Bill’s mom before those episodes? Also yes!!!!). S10 gave us the context of a domestic Doctor, a doctor after losing his wife, a doctor who stayed in the same place for one Darillium night -- twenty four years with his beloved.

And the sendoff, the sendoff, the peak of Missy’s arc, the Doctor at his lowest, having failed Bill, begging his oldest friend to stand with him, just this once. Bill Potts and the trauma of being abandoned for years -- the tragedy that her friends tried, but their seconds was days for her. The tragedy of becoming a cyberman and the absolute deus ex machina that I will never complain about -- her puddle lesbian lost love coming back, extending her immortality. Bury your gays, who?????

Season 10 is a delight and I really reccomend you give it a chance -- 12s run in and on itself is a delight. It has its misses but it’s so so heartfelt. It is, after all, a tired and run down and cynical Doctor relearning why he loves humanity, becoming his most human, learning to stay still and enjoy it.

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 1: When I Met You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: You have a hard time settling into your new life but with new acquaintances and newfound friendships. You slowly find your footing.

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut (not sure, don’t know how to write it but I’ll try), angst, fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood trauma

A/N: So, this is a first for me. Please be indulgent. I am no stranger to writing fiction. I’ve done it before just not on this platform. Also, this is my first time writing in 2nd POV and for Matt Murdock. There isn’t much of him in this chapter but I hope the small bits I have is as close as it is to his character. I did what I always do before writing fiction, read other writers' work and see how they capture the character and watched videos or episodes to get a good feel of the character. So, I hope you will like it. Feedback is welcome. And just enjoy! Also English is not my first language.

Chapter List || Next Chapter

Masterlist || Join my tag list

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

You gave me a reason for my being

And I love what I’m feelin’

You gave me a meaning to my life

Yes, I’ve gone beyond existing

And it all began when I met you

“Another day, another week.” You whispered to yourself as you stepped in the building where you work. You smiled quickly at the receptionist before making your way to the elevator. After you made the big move across the states, you were lucky to land a job as a proofreader in a publishing house. It wasn’t your dream job but it was the next best thing.

For as far as you can remember, you have always been taking care of your family. Many expectations and responsibilities were put on your shoulders from a very young age. So, when your brother stepped in and decided to move your father in with him, you felt some relief. A load was being taken off of your shoulders. You loved your family. But over the years, you had started to resent them slightly. You resented your father for being sick. You resented him for taking out his bad moods on you. You resented your siblings because they get to live their lives. You resented them for leaving you behind in the dust. You knew you loved them but you resented them. And you didn’t want to hate them. So, you left.

You made the move to Hell’s Kitchen, six months ago and you had big plans. First of which, was to properly kickstart your life. You didn’t think it would be easy. You knew it would have been a challenge but you didn’t think it would be that hard. After six months, you thought you would have made some friends or at least some acquaintances. But shy as you were, and as cautious as you were, making friends did not come easy for you.

You dropped your bag on the ground next to your chair. And dropped your coat on the back of it. Your desk was already stacked with manuscripts that needed to be proofread. You always started your day the same, first you read your emails and answered the most important ones. Then came coffee and then came reading with a red pen. You were to review any typos that may have somehow slipped past the author and the copy editor. You were also to review for issues like kerning and stacking and whether the running head is consistent. Proofreading was the last step before publication. You knew it was an important step, so you did it thoroughly. And you did it well. At least, you thought you did. Your boss had not complained about your work so far. And you took it as a good sign.

One of your coworkers stopped by your desk and softly called your name. You looked up at her. You knew her, you had barely interacted with her a few days before. She had long, red hair, that you loved, and legs for days. Her name was Amelia. A few nights ago, as you were leaving after workhours, she was standing outside of the building. A cigarette between her lips as she was looking for something.

“Excuse me?” She stopped you. You turned to her. “Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly. Your best friend from high school, had convinced you to buy a pack of lighter once. Telling you that it was the best way to meet people and to make friends. More precisely to meet your future boyfriend. “There you go.” You handed her the lighter.

“Thanks.” She lit her cigarette before giving it back to you. She took a long drag at it. The tension in her shoulders dropped. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at her and turned to leave.

“You’re that new proofreader, aren’t you?” She asked you.

“Yeah.” And you gave her your name.

“That’s a pretty name.” She remarked. “I’m Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you.” Amelia was not a proofreader. She was an acquisitions editor. The one, literary agents would come to, to sell a book. The book landed in her hands first, and if they made it past her, they landed in yours last.

You stayed with her long after she finished her cigarette. You walked with her because it was dark out. And Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t the safest place to be after dark. And there was strength in numbers. Coincidentally, your flat and hers weren’t that far apart. So, you walked her home before going to yours.

After that, you had not seen or heard much of Amelia. You thought that was it. But there she was, talking to you.

“So, some of us are going to grab a drink after work and I thought that maybe you would love to join us?” She sat on your desk.

“It’s barely 9 and you’re already thinking about the end of the day.” You scoffed lightly.

“Well, I need something to look forward to.” Amelia laughed. “So, wanna come?”

Your default answer was ready to come out of your mouth. You were already making up excuses to not go. And then you stopped yourself. Why shouldn’t you go tonight? There was no one waiting for you at home. You had no obligations. It could be a fun night out; you could even make a few new friends. Might even start a new friendship with Amelia. After all, she came to seek you out. She wanted to invite you.

“Why?” You had not meant to ask this out loud.

“What?”

“Why invite me? We barely talked to each other? Why ask me?”

“You said you just moved here in Hell’s Kitchen, remember?” Amelia gave you a tight smile. And you nodded at her words. “I figured I do the nice thing and invite you to come with us. Since, you don’t really know anyone here.”

Now, you felt stupid. You could feel your neck and cheeks heat up with your embarrassment. Not everyone was going to hurt you. There were good people in the world, you had to remind yourself of that.

“Sorry.” You apologized quickly. “I—I would love to come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly.

“Good, I’ll come and get you when it’s time to go.”

You pressed your hands against your neck. If you could see yourself, you were sure there would be splotches of red all over it. Of course, you had to go and ask why? If “no” was your default answer most of the time, “why?” wasn’t too far behind. When your niece had first told you she loved you, your first answer wasn’t to say it back. It was to ask her why? And she had answered very sweetly: “Because you’re funny and you give the best hugs. And you always play with me.” And after that you never asked again. You only said it back. Because you did, you loved her very much.

You did not know why you did this. It was almost as though you did not believe that good things could happen to you. And if it did, it was not sincere. It was because someone wanted something from you and once, they got it. They’d leave you high and dry.

As the end of your day was nearing. Your anxiety was starting to get the better of you. You dreaded the moment Amelia would come and pick you up. You had agreed to it earlier because you genuinely wanted to. But now, all you wanted, was to go home. Not because you were drained or overstimulated. No, because you simply did not feel like going anymore. You were hoping she would forget about you. Or at least, it would have been cancelled.

It wasn’t cancelled. And you couldn’t just bail on them. It was the first time, since you arrived in Hell’s Kitchen, that you had been invited to hang out. If you bailed on them now, you might not be invited ever again. So, you went. And who knows, you might have some fun.

“Josie’s.” You read out as you stopped in front of the bar with Amelia.

“Yeah, it’s a dive bar, really.” Amelia told you quickly. “But the drinks good enough.”

“Okay.”

She pulled you in after her. You both stopped at the bar to order your drinks and she then took you to their table. It was a small gathering. You recognized a few people, there was the receptionist; Clara. Then, there was another proofreader, you had interacted with. Barely. His name was Sebastian and some other people. You sat next to Amelia.

As soon as you sat down, they resumed their conversations. You were a silent observer. You laughed at their jokes. You listened intently to what they were saying. And you were really brief when they asked you questions about yourself. And redirected the attention on someone else as quickly as possible. You did not want the spotlight to be on you.

While your coworkers were conversing with one another, you couldn’t help but glanced around you. Your eyes travelled over the numerous patrons in the bar. Bikers, blue collar workers and some white-collar workers. They were many. The bar seemed to be quite successful.

And then your eyes landed on him.

Dark haired, with red tinted glasses and a cane. His plump lips were begging to be kissed, his jawline was to die for. His hair looked soft to the touch and you were itching to run your fingers through them. His shirt was so tight that it left nothing to the imagination. You could tell that he was well built underneath it. And his smile—oh, his smile was the most beautiful, you’ve ever laid eyes on. It lit up his whole face. Made him look younger. He looked perfect in every way.

You quickly darted your eyes away. You did not want to be caught staring. However, it was too late. Unbeknownst to you, Amelia had caught you looking.

“So, you look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Amelia said as she pulled you to the bar, to grab another drink.

“I am.” You nodded. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“No problem.” Amelia nudged your shoulder. “Would you want to do it again sometimes?”

“Yes, but can we space them out?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She snorted. “It’s only when the urge strikes.” And she turned away from you. She looked over her shoulder briefly. “So, someone caught your eye.”

“What? No.” You answered quickly.

“That’s not what I saw.” She smirked at you. Josie pushed your beers towards you. “You kept staring at glasses over there.” She waved her hand towards perfect man.

“No, I did not.” You protested while pulling her hand down.

“Oh, come on!” Amelia insisted. “It’s not a crime. He’s pretty and you have eyes. It’s okay to stare a little.”

“Stop.”

“But you know what would be even better?”

“I’m going to regret this.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “What?”

“If you spoke to the guy. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Rejection.” You simply answered.

“Well, rejection is part of the game.” She shrugged. You gave out a deep sigh, and put your chin in the palm of your hand. “You got nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

Nothing to lose? Easy for her to say. After all, she wasn’t the one who had her heart broken, so many times, that there was barely anything left of it. When it came to the matters of the heart, you did not think that the risks were worth it. Even if it was for a Pretty Boy.

Your eyes landed on him again, in spite of yourself. His eyes seemed to be on you and Amelia. Almost as though he was directly looking at you. But he was blind, right? That would be impossible.

“You’re staring again.” She teased you. And you turned back to the bar quickly.

“Drop it.” You told her sternly. “It’s not worth it.” Her eyebrows went into her hairline. “Plus, a guy like him would never go for a girl like me.”

“What? Beautiful and sweet?”

“I’m not beautiful. I’m not ugly but I’m not beautiful. I’m average at best.” You shook your head. “And I’m not sweet.”

Amelia looked at you baffled by your defensiveness over compliments. You acted as though she insulted you. She pushed your beer away from you.

“First, those were compliments and not insults. So, take them.” Amelia said. “And why would he go for someone else when he could go for you?”

“You’re being this nice to me over a lighter?”

“It’s not just about the lighter.” She told you. “You walked me home. You didn’t have to but you did. It was very kind and sweet. Thus, proving my point. You are sweet.”

“It was practical. My flat isn’t too far away from yours. And it was as much for your safety as it was for mine.” You shrugged. “It’s dangerous at night in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. “You are going to take that compliment. I will beat it into you, if I have to.”

“That would be assault.”

“You thing you’re funny, uh?”

“I think I’m adorable.”

“Bitch, you’re testing my patience.” And that got a laugh out of you. She shook her head and laughed with you. “You really are annoying.”

“That’s more like it.” You grinned at her. “Want me to walk you home again?”

“Yeah,” She nodded and clinked her beer with yours. “We finish our drinks and then, we’re good to go.”

“Okay.”

She waved her finger at you. “But this conversation is not over.”

“What conversation?” You retorted, taking on a faux air of innocence.

Amelia glared at you which elicited a chuckle out of you. “Put a few drinks in you and you turn into a comedian. Who would have thought?”

“I could have mentioned it. Save you some time.”

“Do you need to have an answer to everything?”

“Should I answer that or--?”

“Oh, shut up.” And you snorted.

She raised her beer to her lips and toss it back. She gulped the rest of the bottle down and slammed it back onto the counter. Both of your empty bottles were left on the counter and you walked back to your small group of friends. On your way there, your eyes automatically found Pretty Boy, once again. Again, his gaze seemed to be on you and you dropped your eyes to the ground immediately. Feeling guilty that you were staring again, you let out a long sigh and muttered to yourself. “If he’s ever going for someone, it would be for Amelia.”

“There you go.” Amelia handed you your coat and bag. “What are you muttering to yourself again?”

“What do you mean again?” You asked stunned, blood rushing to your neck and cheeks. “You caught me doing that a lot?”

“You are not really trying to hide it.” Amelia shrugged. “So, what was it?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.” You pouted while you put on your coat.

“Was it about Pretty Boy?” She smirked at you.

“Oh, stop!” You said as sternly as possible with your lips jutted out in a pout. “It wasn’t about Pretty Boy.”

“Hmm,” She nodded smugly. “I’ll pretend I believe that.” She laced her arm with yours as you both exited the bar.

“He is really pretty.” You smiled shyly. Amelia’s shoulder nudged yours, as she giggled along with you.

“Next time, we see him. You’re talking to him.” You groaned at her words.

That night was the first time, you ever laid eyes on him. And you thought it would be the last time.

What were the chances for you to stumble upon him in this city ever again? He could be living outside of the city. Or it was only chance that brought him there tonight. And this was a once in a lifetime chance to meet the love of your life. And you blew it.

“Shut up!” You groaned as you slapped your forehead. “I did not blow my chance because there wasn’t one to begin with.”

“Voices in your head?” Amelia put down the lighter next to you.

“They’re really loud today.” You shook your head. “And you don’t have to bring it back all the time. You can keep it.”

“I won’t have an excuse to come and see you. anymore”

“You don’t really need one.” You sighed.

“True.” She smirked. “Wanna go to Josie’s tonight?”

“What are we celebrating?” You retorted.

“Nothing.” Amelia shrugged. “I thought maybe we could blow off some steam.” She shrugged and sat down on your desk. “Seeing as those last two months were kinda crazy.”

“Yeah, they were.” You agreed. “I mean we are nearing the end of the season.”

As it were in the publishing world, books are published in a three-season cycle: Winter, Summer and Fall. Winter season came to a close by the end of April and the datelines were getting closer. For the last two months, you and your team had been working nonstop. You and the author of the book you were proofreading, were going back and forth about editing issues he had. And his anxieties regarding the matter were also affecting you. Under pressure and anxious, you and your coworkers had no time to go back out.

“I could use the break.” You leaned back in your chair. “And a couple of beers.”

“It’s a date.” Amelia got back on her feet. “Meet you by the reception desk.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Amelia and you were on the sidewalk in front of Josie’s. She was smoking a cigarette before you both get in.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Amelia asked you.

“I like the smell of it.” You shrugged.

She took another puff before she elbowed your side. You glared at her.  Her pointy elbow dug into your side painfully. “What’s that for?”

“It seems you’re in luck tonight.” She looked down at you. And with a jerk of her head, she indicated at something behind you.

You turned around and there he was. Tapping his cane on the sidewalk, holding the arm of a beautiful blonde. There was a man, blonde also, walking on his other side. Pretty Boy’s tie was loose around his neck and slightly crooked. A giant smile was on his face as the beautiful lady on his side threw her head back in laughter. You kept your eyes on their little group as they disappeared into the bar.

“Alright, tonight’s the night.” Amelia took a last puff out of her cigarette.

“What?” You turned to her confused.

“We agreed that next time we see him here, you would talk to him.”

“I did not agree to anything. You agreed with yourself.” You told her as she started to drag you toward the bar. “Amelia, stop!” You pulled your arm away from her.

“What are you so afraid of?” Amelia huffed in annoyance.

“Rejection. Humiliation. Mortification. Embarrassment.” You started to list out.

Sure, he was handsome. He was painfully handsome. And although, you had thought of his lips on yours, of his hands running through your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Your hands flew to your ears at the thought. They warmed up as your blood rushed to them. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t talk to him.

“I’m perfectly fine with watching him from afar.” You said quietly, dropping your hands. “Can we go somewhere else, please?” You crossed your arms over your chest, making yourself as small as possible.

She dropped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side. “We already here, so we might as well go in.” You started pulling away from her. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. Relax.” She pulled you back in and turned you towards the doors.

“Promise?” You put your pinky out.

“Promise.” She hooked her pinky with yours.

In most situations, you weren’t afraid to go after what you wanted. Of course, you had to pass it through a few people first. Just to make sure you were making the right decision. Especially, when it came to your job. But when it came to relationships—romantic ones, you never took the first step. You were always afraid that the people you wanted—you desired—wouldn’t want you back. Which explains your lack of experiences when it came to dating. And the disappointing sexual experiences you had.

You sat at the bar and ordered your beer. Amelia sat beside you but kept looking over her shoulder. You turned briefly to where she was looking. And surely enough, she was looking directly towards Pretty Boy and his friends. You sighed and turned back around.

“You promised, remember?” You told her. “Pinky promised. Those are sacred.”

“Yeah, I know.” She pouted and turned back around. “You’re going to regret it later.”

“Don’t I know it?” You exhaled deeply.

How many times have you let someone go before you were too afraid to speak? How much longer will you stay up at night wondering about what ifs? How much longer will you stand in the way of your own happiness? How much longer will you live in fear?

There was comfort in fear. It kept you on your toes. It told you where the edge was. It helped you survive. There was nothing wrong with fear. There were no broken hearts, no hurt feelings. It was safe.

And yet—you wished you could take that step. You knew you could. You’ve done it before. You left the comfort of your home. Of everything you’ve known to come here in Hell’s Kitchen. What was the worse that could happen in talking to him? Nothing, right? It was just talking. A simple conversation between two people. Or maybe, you would just give him your number. He could call you if he wanted to. If not—well, you would keep wondering why he didn’t call you. The thought of it was torture enough.

You glanced back over your shoulder at Pretty Boy. He was no longer sitting with his friends. His coat was still there on the back of his chair, but he was gone. You turned back to your drink, and sorrowfully starting to play with the condensation on your beer.

“What can I get you, Murdock?”

“Just another beer, Josie, thanks.”

You turned your eyes towards the voice. And there he was. So, much more handsome up close. His voice was nice and deep. Music to your ears. You turned your eyes away from him. Your heartbeat was now racing in your ribcage. You looked up at the ceiling, searching for some sort of answers.

“Hey, I’m gonna go out for a smoke.” Amelia announced slamming her bottle on the counter.

“I’ll come with you.” You squeaked out.

“You should definitely stay and enjoy yourself.” Amelia pulled her hair out of the collar of her coat. “I’ll be back in a moment. You should—you know strike up a conversation or two.” And she pointedly looked at the man by your side.

You gasped as she left. “You promised!” You called after her. “Pinky promised.”

“What did she promise?” Pretty Boy asked you. A grin plastered on his face.

You took a few minutes to answer, your eyes following Amelia’s exit out of the bar. And let out a breath. “To not make me do something I didn’t want to do.”

“And what was it? The thing you didn’t want to do.”

You couldn’t help the small grin that came onto your face before you answered. “Striking up a conversation with someone.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Why not?”

“It’s kind of terrifying for me to—talk to people.” The blood was rushing to your chest, your heart was slamming against your ribcage.

“You’re talking to me now.” His voice seemed lower as he spoke.

You scoffed. “True. I am.”

“How does it feel?” His lips twitched up at the corners.

“Not as terrifying as I thought.”

He chuckled. And you smiled at the sound. “I’m Matt.” He extended his hand out to you.

You put your hand in his. Your breath hitched in your throat as your skin touched his. You cleared your throat before giving him your name.

“You have a pretty name.” He told you.

“You make it sound prettier.” You quipped back, feeling braver now. His eyebrows flew high on his forehead before he let out a laugh. You laughed along with him. “Nice to meet you, Matt.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He nodded, this boyish grin never leaving his face.

That was the night you officially met Matt Murdock. It wasn’t as daunting as you thought it would be. In fact, speaking with Matt came easy to you. His eyes were unseeing and yet, they were always on you. And for once in your life, you did not mind the attention.

You didn’t think anything life altering would come of it. If anything, you thought you were gaining another friend.

Little did you know…

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