Fiction affecting reality in a good way: POC character helps real POCs feel validated and represented. Or can help non-POCs to see the value in POC representation.
Fiction affecting reality in a negative way: A show filled with rape jokes or race jokes reinforcing the idea that those kind of things can be funny, and validating people who feel that way.
Fiction CAN impact the way people think, and it’s most definitely influenced you, whether you deign to acknowledge it or not.
Fictional child porn = reinforcing the sexualisation and objectification of children. As well as validating pedophiles and maps, making them feel more accepted in their desires.
So please for the last time, stop saying “fiction can’t affect reality” that is the worst argument I ever hear from people. It makes absolutely no sense, shows how little self awareness you have, and how little critical thought you’ve actually given to the subject of simulated child porn.
27. “I don’t give a damn.” “You give so many damns, they’re visible from space.”
NurseyDex Week Day 6 - Soft
I was inspired by those prompts lol. It’s softer than the first implies but oh well haha thanks baby! Also… has anyone realized yet that at the current time of the comics, the summer they’re about to go into is The Summer of Pokemon Go?! :D haha anyway, I listened to this while writing this to set the mood, so if anyone wants a soundtrack to this here ya go :)
“She’s got 585 CP,” Dex is saying excitedly into the phone, and Derek can practically hear the smile on the other man’s face. “She’s beautiful, I can’t believe I found her.”
“I’ve caught like 6 Ponyta already,” Derek says, barely containing his own smirk.
“Whatever,” Dex grumbles, and it’s almost enough to make Derek regret ruining his happy moment. “I don’t give a damn.”
Derek laughs. “You give so many damns they’ve visible from space.”
“Do not,” Dex says. “Besides, that screenshot you sent me showed like a hundred of these stops around your building, you can just sit your happy ass at home and collect the Pokemon. I actually have to leave my house? By car? To get to half of the ones in my town.”
“Not my fault you live in a tiny nothing town in a tiny nothing state,” Derek says smugly.
“Stop speaking nonsense about things you know nothing about, Nurse.”
The line goes quiet for a moment, the only sounds the clinking of dishes and the closing of cupboards from the other side. Derek snuggles deeper under the blankets.
He’s lying in bed, covered in three warm quilts, the cool AC on, and the only light the fairy ones tacked over his window.
He adjusts his hold on his phone, imagining Dex walking around the small kitchen in his parent’s home in Maine, making himself something to eat after his late-night Pokemon Go adventures.
Derek hears a door open down the hallway in his own home, and then footsteps in the hall. He waits for a knock but it doesn’t come, the footsteps carrying past his room and toward the main living space of their home.
He figures his dad is probably gonna make himself a midnight snack too, and he considers joining him for the briefest of moments, but doesn’t wanna end the call with Dex. Not… not yet.
“Your parents don’t care you’re making so much racket at 1 am?” Derek asks.
“Nah, they’re heavy sleepers,” Dex says.
Derek hums into the phone, pulling at a loose thread in his quilt. “My dad is such a light sleeper I think he’s walking the hall as we speak. Gonna come in here and tell me to keep it down.”
Dex laughs softly. “You’re practically whispering as it is.”
“I know,” Derek says, smiling.
“Well I… I hope he doesn’t.”
Dex’s voice has gone soft, gentle, low. It makes Derek’s chest warm from the inside out.
“Me neither,” Derek whispers.
He can hear Dex sigh deeply on the other end and suddenly Derek wishes so badly to be in that kitchen with him. Or to have Dex in this bed with him. To wrap around him under these quilts and hold him close.
They’ve been doing these midnight calls all summer, and with each one Derek finds himself falling a little for this man, and with each one he wonders if he’s not the only one.
Dex is just so… soft. At midnight. Quiet. Content.
Usually he’s lying in bed too and they talk about their days and they bitch about their summer work and how soon they’ll have to head back to the Haus for the pre-season SMH stuff.
But honestly, Derek is getting less and less upset about the prospect of being back at Samwell with each passing day.
Every time Dex speaks quietly into the phone, his voice raspy and sleepy, his words starting to slur together, Derek can’t wait to finally be in the same place as him. To hear Dex be sleepy and see how it affects him in person. To have that every single day and every single night.
Derek is gone on him, and he’d be a little more upset about it if he wasn’t so. sure. it was reciprocated.
Because Dex has been really sweet to him. Being kind and flirty and considerate and fond. God, Derek can tell when Dex’s voice takes on this particular quality, like when Derek is sleepy and feeling particularly silly and he says the most random things and Dex will respond in a way that makes Derek picture him with his head tilted sideways and this dumb smile on his face that Derek hasn’t really ever seen but he’s imagined it so much this summer.
He’s imagining it now. Dex standing in his kitchen, half-made pb&j sandwich sitting on the counter and Dex smiling sweetly down at where his phone sits on the counter next to the bread, his ear phones dangling from his ears.
“Hey Dex,” Derek says.
“Yeah?” Dex asks, and he sounds so much more quiet now than he did moments ago when he was excited about catching a Ponyta tonight.
Derek turns on his side, pressing his phone into the pillow with his face and staring at the city of Manhattan out his bedroom window. All the lights make him feel warm and fuzzy, and Dex’s presence on the other end of the line makes him feel safe and content, and Derek feels this longing in the depths of his soul.
“Can we do this?” Derek asks quietly, hoping he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels. “You know - these midnight talks - can we make this a thing? When we’re moved in at the Haus and we’re sharing the room, can we have these midnight talks then too?”
“God, of course Nursey,” Dex says, breathing lightly into the phone and damn if Derek doesn’t hear that fondness in his voice there.
It’s deep and raw and that yearning in Derek’s body is physical and not going away and if Derek has got it all wrong here he’ll make a fool of himself but if he’s right about even part of this Dex is falling in love with him too and from the sounds of it it just might kill them both before they can even make it to the second week of August to get back to the Haus.
But Derek will take it, he’ll take dying every night being here alone in his bed with Dex on the phone if it means he gets to live even one night holding him tight when they’re in the same place again.
“Great,” Derek says, and his own voice is raspy now. “I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” Dex breathes, soft spoken and light and airy.
Derek stretches out in his bed and then pulls his quilts tighter around himself. He stares out at the city, listening to Dex continue to make his food on the phone and watching the lights twinkle in the distance, letting it lull him to peaceful sleep.
just watched stardust after seeing that gifset you reblogged and can I say: cp stardust au
the only problem with that idea, anon, is that I can’t decide which scenario I like more:
damen tugging around foul-mouthed beautiful fallen star laurent (having been sent on a mission to catch a star to prove his affection for jokaste, which will conveniently get him out of the way while some kind of coup happens)
prince laurent, needing a fallen star for some kind of spell/potion that will help him in the fight for the throne, ending up with damen, who hates him and spends the entire time plotting to escape.
I also don’t know who captain shakespeare is but I have a feeling it’s makedon.