p r e t t y b o y

Me: Why

Same person: Because they are a bad person!

Me: But what if that character was allowed to become a better person so that they are no longer a bad person?

like, redeemed villains are generally friends with the heroes. they get to experience love and The Power of Friendship for the first time, if they haven’t already. they generally get to experience forgiveness. if their motives are based off of some kind of trauma or pain (like a lot of redeemed villains) then they will probably have that resolved and get some sense of closure or inner peace from whatever is hurting them.

so when they say that “this character doesn’t deserve a redemption arc” what they mean is “this character doesn’t deserve to be loved. they don’t deserve happiness, peace, or companionship”. the alternatives I have seen are:

“I hope that this character realizes how awful they are and they kill themselves”

“I hope this character is redeemed by a heroic sacrifice” (meaning they would be redeemed but wouldn’t be alive to experience the “reward” afterwards)

“I hope this character begs and pleads for forgiveness over and over again, but is never forgiven”

If redemption is unacceptable, if bad behavior can never be forgiven, what is the alternative?

You as the author know where the story takes a breath and starts gearing up for the next arc, but the readers don’t.  So leave a little “this is a good place to stop and come back for more later”.

It will also get you 1 of 3 types of comments:

1. (appreciation) thank you so much it’s 4am and i have work

2. (sass) yeah sure right *clicks next chapter*

BUT (because there’s always a but isn’t there?)

Touch-starved Steve

Billy’s grown up his whole life being touched without his permission. Being tossed around by his dad and having girls drape themselves all over him. And that’s just his life. Nothing he can do about it. He’ll always be a little overstimulated. Touched a little too much.

But Steve...Steve has never really gotten that touch at all. He lives all alone in his big empty house and dreams of someone, anyone, who will hug him, hold him, play with his hair. And he got that with Nancy, of course he did. Every time he saw her in the hallway he would pick her up and spin her around and relish in the feeling of being close to someone. But Nancy never initiated it. Not really. She was new at it and shy and it was so sweet but it was never really enough.

And then Billy comes to town. And he touches Steve without thinking twice about it. Because he doesn’t have the boundaries of touch that everyone else does. To Billy, his body is just something he lives in. It doesn’t matter what it does really. He’s used to it being in contact with something else whether it be Neil’s fist, or some random chick’s hands, or the cool metal of weights in his fists. So in basketball practice he is all over Steve, quite literally, and Steve just can’t get over it. He starts looking forward to basketball just so he can have the feeling of another body up against his.

At first he thinks it’s weird. Thinks he shouldn’t be so thrilled to have Billy push him around all practice. Because Billy’s a bully and Billy’s a GUY. But after a while, the pure shot of joy straight to Steve’s heart every time it happens wins out over all of the doubts he has about it. And he just lets it happen. No strings attached. He just lets himself have this. Because he feels like maybe he’s earned it.

Like, pretty traditional simple ones at first, but after a while he’s memorized a fair amount of them and actually makes a point of buying like different mixers and shit.

But then one of the first times he has Billy over, and offers him something to drink, Steve just auto pilot whips up two of his current favorite which is idk a fucking appletini or something 

So Billy- who only drinks cheap beer and rubbing alcohol tequila- gets handed this fucking bright green cocktail he’s like “wtf is this??”

And Steve’s like “If you don’t like it I can make you something else. You want an Old Fashioned?” 

Billy tries to act like he’s not swooning just a little when he goes “You know how to make cocktails?”

“Sure.” Steve’s all sipping his appletini.

“How many?”

“A few.”

Billy lights up. “Can you make a Sex on the Beach?”

and immediately Steve would be like ,’:/ “I thought you didn’t like peach schnapps” and Billy’s like “There’s beach schnapps in a Sex on the Beach???” and Steve would be like “Why did you ask for a Sex on the Beach if you didn’t even know what was in it??”

Like, just drenched in fucking sweat.

It was gross.

Second thing he registers was that he was not alone in his bed.

And the third thing he registered was that he was not in his bed to begin with.

In fact, he has no fucking clue where he is. And he has no fucking clue who he’s spooned up against.

He shifted as carefully as he could, sliding himself out of the soft bed.

And he’s naked.

And his clothes are all over the floor.

So he had sex last night.

Sex with a boy.

The one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do after having to leave California.

He fucking swore he’d be good, follow the rules.

And here he was, nearly slipping on a used condom as he hopped into his jeans.

Last night had been that stupid fucking Halloween party.

And Billy remembers the specific moment when he’d decided that thing would be more enjoyable if he didn’t remember any of it.

After that is a total blur of alcohol and, by the looks of things, bad homosexual decisions.

He hightailed it out of the boy’s bedroom. The plain, mostly empty bedroom.

He was hoping for maybe some pictures hung along the hallway. Posed family shots that would give away who Billy shoved his dick into last night.

But there was, nothing.

It was all nondescript art like you’d find in a hotel. Nothing to show an actual family lived here.

It was fucking weird.

Even Billy’s house has pictures. True, Billy think he’s only in about three of ‘em, but nonetheless, he’s there. Present and accounted for.

This poor sucker’s got nothing.

And Billy should’ve gotten a look at him. Should’ve tiptoed around the otherside of the bed to glance at who is such a hot goddamn sleeper. Because there’s someone that knows he’s got a penchant for dick, and Billy can’t have rumors going around. Not after last time.

But, fuck it.

He doesn’t wanna risk waking the kid up. Doesn’t wanna risk having to deal with someone clingy. Some small town queer that thinks they’re going steady just because Billy couldn’t keep it in his pants for one fucking night.

But, one thing’s for damn sure. Whoever he fucked is loaded.

This is the biggest house Billy’s ever set foot in.

And he can’t find the fucking front door.

He was beginning to get anxious. Beginning to feel trapped inside the cold mansion. Felt like he’d condemned himself to a life of-

“Hey.”

Billy whipped around, and his heart nearly dropped out his ass when he saw who was standing, barely dressed, on the staircase.

Steve Harrington.

Billy remembers meeting him.

remembers the sinking feeling in his gut as he realized just how fucking pretty Harrington is.

And apparently, stupid black-out drunk Billy had decided to act on that.

“Hey,” Billy said back.

“You looking for the front door?”

“Yeah. Your stupid big house is like a fucking maze.”

Steve huffed a little laugh, folding those long fucking legs under him to sit on the stairs.

“You probably missed it down the hall. They’re big double doors. The lock’s kinda tricky. You gotta push the door on the left to unlock it and then you’re good.”

“Thanks, man.”

Steve gave him a little two-finger salute.

He was sitting in just his boxers, and the way he was hunched over gave him little tummy rolls. Billy slapped himself before he could think they were cute.

“Do I need to bother threatening you?”

Steve laughed again, his nose scrunching up as he did so.

“C’mon. This ain’t my first time at the rodeo. I can keep a secret.”

“Good. ‘Cause if word gets out-”

“Hargrove, I know how this goes. I’ve been queer in a small town a lot longer than you have.”

And Billy couldn’t deny that.

But the fact that Harrington’s slept with other guys…well. Billy had this town pegged all wrong. Figured any secret queers would be well and truly closeted.

But here they are. Billy shouldn’t’ve doubted ‘em.

Which means he might be able to get regular ass while he’s here.

He shook himself.

This was a one-off. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this anymore.

Steve Harrington would be his swan song.

It’s girls or nothing.

And then Steve stretched his legs out on the stairs below him, and he scratched his belly, and smiled at Billy, and Billy wasn’t leaving. He should be leaving.

“Hey, uh, if you ever wanna do this again, you know. I’m around.”

And then it dawned on Billy.

“Don’t you have a girl?”

And Steve’s face fell. He brought a hand up to scrub at his hair.

“Uh, no. Not after last night.” Steve was looking at his feet, reaching down to poke his knee a few times.

And Billy was going to ask what happened, but Steve looked sad. Looked maybe a little heartbroken. And Billy just doesn’t wanna deal with that. Not for the tightest ass in the world.

“Well, I should get going.”

And Steve looked up at him, giving him a sad little smile.

“Sure. See you around, I guess.”

But Billy didn’t move.

He felt rooted to the spot.

Because if Steve Harrington is gonna be the last guy he fucks, he might as well remember it.

“What are you doing tonight? After school?”

And Steve brightened.

“I’ve got practice until five, but then I’m just here.”

“Basketball practice?”

Steve nodded. Billy grinned.

“I’ll see you there.”

And Billy dear God, was Billy gonna have some fun with him.

Tease him and get him all riled up. Follow him home and pound him through the mattress, still covered in sweat from practice, tasting like salt and egging Billy on.

Oh yeah.

He’s got plans.

Because he’s stuck here, right? And if Steve’s been fucking guys without getting caught, Billy can too, right? And maybe it’s best to stick with one person, contain any possible threats. Just fuck Steve when he wants, right?

Yeah.

scarf sharing 🍂

Representation on Tumblr has become a way for white people to win brownie points just because they took a Hershey's bar and slapped it onto a person's skin tone.

The most disgusting thing is that they insist on making JUST African-Americans. They insist on making JUST one facial type, one nose type, one lip type, one hair type, one slang type, one skin tone.

And when they make a person Asian, it's Japanese. And when they make a person Hispanic, it's Mexican. And when they make a person indigenous, they never specify on which tribe/nation they came from, but you'll bet they're Native AMERICAN.

But my favorite part is when other POC demand representation and those same fucking white people are like "But but but look at all my black characters!!!!"

POC isn't just confined to America.

POC isn't just black.

POC isn't just Japanese.

POC isn't just Mexican.

POC isn't just Native American.

It's from the Miskitu in Nicaragua, from the highlands of Ethiopia, from the deserts of Saudi Arabia, from the mountains of Indonesia. It's from the arroz con gandules, from the folk music, from the festivals. It's many cultures blending, it's speaking more than just English, it's dealing with racism unique to our countries of origin.

“My mom from the early 90s in Yugoslavia!”

It’s like… okay, let’s say there’s a dog park. The dog park is sprawling and super popular among owners of all dog breeds and sizes. There are separate spaces for terriers and large dogs with signs posted so you know what types of dogs are allowed where. All of the sudden, some small dog owners, the ones with teacup poodles and yorkies or whatnot, decide that the pit bulls all the way on the other side of the park are a PROBLEM because pits are dangerous. Doesn’t matter if they only play in the one area that is specifically designated for them, and there are warning signs indicating their presence. They’re a breed that shouldn’t exist because what if a child tried to pet one? 

Think of the children! 

No matter that children aren’t allowed in the pitbull section; they might break in unaccompanied by an adult to pet some pitbulls. All pitbull owners are dangerous, irresponsible assholes who want nothing more than to train their pits to eat small dogs and attack kids. In fact, if you have ever owned a pit, not only are you a bad person, you are a literal murderer who trains your dog to attack children on sight. 

Think of the children!

The anti-pitbull crowd is persistent, and pits are not very popular in general, and a lot of people don’t like them, so the dog park decides to ban pitbulls. But the purge also sweeps away German Shepherds (a popular but potentially dangerous breed also known as explicit slash) and Boxers and other large dogs. Maybe some of these dogs were dogs the anti-pitbull crowd even liked, but hey, all is done in the name of safety, right? Because:

Think of the children!

It’s not that you can’t find pitbulls in the dog park anymore. They’re still there, except now they aren’t tagged and easily identified as pitbulls and aren’t confined to one area. They’re much easier to stumble across by accident. But hey, maybe 1 or 2 of them will be reported and kicked out for a spell until the owner sneaks them in again. It’s not like anyone is really checking every single dog at the door for pit ancestry. It’s too unwieldy; there are millions of dogs and not enough staff to do so, and they can’t quite agree on what a pitbull is anyway.

Anyways, a few of the dog owners think this is bullshit. Maybe some own pits but mostly they own like Golden Retrievers and Black Labs (that are technically still allowed in the park, for now, but hey, you never know what will happen). They decide they’re going to build their own dog park where all dogs are welcome as long as they stay in their designated sections. It’s a small operation at first, but it’s free and staffed with enthusiastic volunteers, and as more dogs are booted out of the first dog park, some entire segments of dog owners (including many that don’t own pits) gravitate to the new dog park. It’s friendlier there. They accept everyone, and won’t randomly kick out the odd bulldog for looking pit-like. All their friends are starting to go to the new dog park. 

New dog park grows, gains a lot of traction over the old dog park, and becomes the place to be.

Only now, the anti-pitbull crowd is also there. They use it frequently and like its amenities, but there’s only one problem. They allow pitbulls here. Nevermind that they’re tagged and in their designated area. What if a child tried to pet one?

Think of the children!

So they start reporting pitbulls. The pitbulls are a danger to society; they should be taken out back and shot. Why TF would anyone allow pitbulls into their dog parks??? The staff looks at them, shrugs, and points out their policy, which has been there since the beginning, which is the reason for their popularity and what everyone agreed to when they entered the dog park, that says All Dogs Allowed. 

‘But that’s not right,’ the anti-pitbull crowd screeches. 

Think of the children!

Other dog owners point out that old dog park still exists; they don’t have to frequent this one.

‘But this dog park is more popular! More people will play and interact with my dog here!’ they say, stomping their feet. ‘You should accommodate me and my preferences.’

‘No.’

They throw themselves to the floor, thrashing their arms about, in full tantrum mode. ‘Then I rather this dog park not exist. It is a danger to children everywhere!.’

Think of the children!

Think of the Goddamn children!

All jokes aside, “AO3 is bad because they don’t pay the fanfic writers” is an ACTUAL take I have seen on tumblr even though AO3 giving even a penny to 1 fanfic author of, say, Star Wars episode 8 fanfic is a one way ticket to getting sued and shut down by Disney (look at everyone shut down for making baby yoda dolls to sell). 

Take some responsibility and use the tag filters on ao3 to filter out the content you don’t want to see. Moderate your own consumption on the internet.