“About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him-and I didn’t know how potent that part might be-that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.”
Can we as a society please like stop teaching young children that anything done in the name of love is okay and even noble? Just because someone does something out of love does not make it okay or excusable.
This line of thought is is so often portrayed in media, especially in YA literature and media, where straight guys are excused or even congratulated for their shitty behavior because they did it out of love (looking at you Stephanie Meyer). It is perpetuated in “he does it because he likes you” type comments made toward literal children. It is the foundation of harassment and entitlement toward women. It is everywhere.
This idea is DANGEROUS. This idea gets young people, especially young women, abused and killed. Love is not an excuse, it is not a way to sweep the dirt under the rug. Love is commitment and honesty and work. “But he did it because he loves her,” is a cop-out, plain and simple. It allows people, especially men, to hide behind their affections to avoid owning up to their shitty behavior.
Not everything done in the name of love is done in the spirit of love, and we need to start teaching young people to tell the difference.
“The sun was hot on my skin, too bright as it bounced off the white concrete and blinded me. I felt dangerously exposed. More fiercely than I would have dreamed I was capable of, I wished for the green, protective forest of Forks … of home.”
No, this one is not BTS related, but I can’t help myself from making this one.
I think I’m PMSing and about to start my period and that’s why I’ve been so annoyed and making rants lately.
Now, I know things can’t be 100% accurate, and I’m not directing this towards any one specific person except Stephanie Meyer since this pet peeve started with Twilight
If you are going to write about a certain topic, or include something in your writing, please do at least a minimal amount of research.
The amount of people who will write about something they know nothing about, and refuse to google it saddens me.
This goes for multiple topics.
As a child development major, this irks me more than it does most people, and as I said, I know things can’t be 100% accurate, and that since not everyone studies child development, there are things they can’t know, but there are somethings that’s just common sense.
Like it’s common sense that a 4 year old will not still be teething.
It’s common sense that a 2 month old will not be sitting up on their own.
It’s common sense that a 1 and a half year old will not be speaking in full grammatically correct sentences.
Onto pregnancy, why does everyone seem to think that you find out the sex of the baby on the first doctor’s appointment? Like, no. The genitalia begin to form at 6 weeks and aren’t finished until 14 weeks. The majority of people have their first appointment during that time frame, meaning it’s impossible to know anyway.
Also, morning sickness does not only happen in the morning, it’s just more common. The amount of times I’ve seen people writing fics about pregnancy, only for something to be wrong with the girl, and when someone questions her she says it’s just morning sickness, “but it’s not the morning”, please stop that.
Also, people will write about a bump at 2 months. If it’s the first pregnancy, like how it is in most fics, a bump usually won’t form until the 2nd trimester, which is 4 or 5 months. Maybe 3 months in some women, but not 2 months.
Okay, say it with me: the butt hole is not a vagina
The amount of gay smut where they talk about how “wet” the hole is getting when there is no lube or saliva involved, or the amount that says it’s painless without any lubrication. I’m a heterosexual female and even I know that’s not how it works.
Second, girls do not orgasm the same way guys do
A female orgasm is an overwhelming feeling of pleasure followed by sensitivity. There is no “flow of juices” and certainly no “white substance dripping down her thighs”. When “juices” do come out of her, that is called squirting, and only happens very rarely, some women never being able to at all. And after a women squirts, she can be very dehydrated and exhausted, and definitely not ready to go a second round, like described in quite a few fics. There are some women who can squirt quite often, however, they are in the vast minority, and therefore it should not be included in every. single. fanfic. Rarely do I see a fic that accurately describes a female orgasm.
This one really hits home to me, and quite a few others, as I suffer from mental illness, and have for years.
I would really appreciate if the people who don’t have a mental illness, but choose to write about it would do adequate research about the mental illness they have chosen.
I could go on about all the mistakes people have made about many mental illnesses, but I’ll focus on anxiety right now as that’s what I have and is the most common mental illness since it comes in many varieties.
The one that I notice the most is the misrepresentation of Social Anxiety.
In most of the fics I have read that have incorporated Social Anxiety, they always describe it as feeling uncomfortable around strangers, but it is way more than that.
Social Anxiety is:
constantly feeling like everyone in the room is watching you and scrutinizing your every movement
not being able to eat at someone’s house or at a party because your stomach hurts so much that the thought of food makes you want to throw up
wanting to cry when you’re forced to sit close to people you don’t know
being almost 20 years old and not being able to order for yourself at a restaurant
thinking that sitting alone in the car is a better option than having to go inside a place you’ve never been
It is so much more than being uncomfortable around people you don’t know. The feeling I get can’t even be described using the word “uncomfortable”. If you are not actually having anxiety over the situation, it is not anxiety.
Another thing that people don’t research with this is how you get diagnosed. I always see it described as they went to their normal doctor the second they started to have issues, told them they had it, and they automatically get a prescription for medication, and they’re done in 10 minutes. That is not how it happens.
I had been living with anxiety for at least 5 years before ever even going to be formally diagnosed. I didn’t bother with telling my mom I thought I needed more help than just her, who also has anxiety, until after I was tempted to remove the blades from my razor and slit my wrist to where they couldn’t sew it back up.
I had to have suicidal thoughts before realizing “woah I need help”. After that, my mom had to make an appointment at a psychological assessment center, not my regular doctor. That first appointment, it was me, my mom, and a therapist. There was no official diagnosis of that. All it was was the three of us talking, with me and my mom telling her about the struggles I had been having, how long it had been happening, how it gradually got worse, and so on. Then she gave my mom a questionnaire to fill out about what she has observed about me, and gave me one to give to one of my teachers at school to fill out.
A week later, I went back and spent two hours being tested in different ways. They varied from “what do you see when you look at this picture” to testing my memory skills. Two hours. And that wasn’t even the day I was diagnosed.
My mom and I went back a week after that to meet with the therapist, and that’s where she gave me the official diagnosis, the degree it was to, and then discussed treatment options. Then she had to send my regular doctor the results so that she could write a prescription.
It was two more weeks before my doctor got around to it and I was able to start on medication.
It is way more than “oh I’ve been feeling this way”, “okay, here’s some pills to pop”.
If you’re going to write about a mental illness without having it, then at least have the courtesy to research it.
Then comes to the idea that it can be cured and one day they won’t have it anymore. I don’t know how many fics I’ve read where it ends with a completely happy ending in the main character no longer has the mental illness.
That is complete and utter bullshit. Mental illnesses are caused by chemical imbalances in the brain, and those can’t be fixed easily. There is no “cure”, you just get to the point where you can handle it better. There are people with depression who can go years without and episode, then wake up one day with no motivation to even roll over in bed. My mom has some of the worst social anxiety, yet she’s a hair stylist, meaning she has to constantly be around and talk to people she doesn’t know. She has overcome her illness enough that it doesn’t get in the way of her job, but she’s still on medication and she almost had a panic attack when she had to walk me up on stage for the Senior Walk at my final orchestra concert.
Mental illnesses do not have a cure. You just get better at being able to live without them getting in your way.
There are a few authors and works out there that do a great job of trying to be accurate in the topics they write about, but they are sadly outnumbered by the people who just do not care.
So please, if you read this and want to write a fanfic or regular fic about a topic you’re not to sure about, please do at least a minimal amount of research before rather than bullshitting it like Stephanie Meyer did when she decided to write about vampires.
Imagine: wandering into the woods alone, only to get hurt. Insult to injury? He was off taking care of Bella, again.
Not my GIF.
(Not bashing Bella, necessarily. She just always struck me as a selfish character. Even if she doesn’t realize it.)
Y/N was Jacob’s imprint. She came at the most inconvenient time. When Bella needed Jacob the most. Being the stubborn being he was, he fought it. Resentment turned to acceptance. Acceptance turned to like. To everyone else, they were on their way to falling in love. Jake was easy to fall for when he wasn’t brooding. Even so, she was drawn to him like a moth to flame. She cared about him in every sense of the word. Every fault and flaw. But, Bella. Bella was a hard habit to kick now that she was without The Cullens.
It was hard to come to a ballance. Y/N was his moon all of his stars. His partner for life. However, guilt racked him. He still had and invisible tether to Bella. It didn’t necessarily please Sam. “Jacob. You need to get your priority straight.” When it came down to brass tax, Bella’s vulnerability played on Jake’s guilt complex. He didn’t mean to always choose her. But he usually did.
This Saturday was like any other. He was at Bella’s house working on her bike while Bella observed and they both chatted. She seemed happier. More color to her face. While a few months ago, he would’ve given anything to be with her. Now, he just wanted her to be happy and out of harm’s way. Little by little, he lost focus on the Bike and Bella’s words. He dropped his tool in defeat. He felt itchy. His whole body tingled with a feeling he couldn’t put his finger on. Something just didn’t feel right. His head began to spin. The buzzing in his pocket brought him back to reality.
A solitary text from Sam. “Y/N was put in the hospital. Get her, ASAP.”
Without a word, he got in his car and tore out of there. His hands shook as he navigated his was to the hospital. It was all a blur. The driving. The parking. Even running through the halls to get to her. It wasn’t until he ran into same, he felt present.
“She was alone in the woods. And got bit by a snake. A rattler. Embry heard her scream and got her help.”
Jacob’s chest heaved with more emotion that he thought possible. Anger. Guilt. Confusion. Worry. Why was she in those woods alone? He warned her over and over, not to go alone. He was worried about the parade of blood suckers that always seemed to come in and out of the area. But he hid that worry under warning of bears and the occasional moose. She’s just wrinkle her nose and smirk. “Oh, quit worrying you old woman,” she’d tease.
“He thinks she accidentally over turned a rock and disturbed it,” he continued. “You’re lucky he was on patrol. She was calling for you, Jake. Anyways, she’s alright. Should be going home tomorrow.”
Wordlessly he inched in the room. She had oxygen hooked up to her nose. She looked pale, even against the stark white hospital sheets. Her bangs were plastered to her sweaty forehead. Jacob sank into the chair beside her and slid it close. He placed her hand against his lips.
Her eyes cracked opened, meeting his gaze.
“How’re you feeling?” He quietly asked.
She gently cleared her throat and swallowed. “Tired. Really sore.”
She looked like she was due for a ten year nap.
“Why were you in the woods?” His stare was piercing.
She weakly shrugged. “I-I was gonna pick some blueberries. It was really pretty out today. I thought it’d be a good day for it. You were with Bella, like always,” She said grimly. “I’m sorry…”
He sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been spending a lot of time with Bella. When, I should be spending a bit more time with you.”
She averted his gaze. “I know she’s really important to you.” The following silence told Jake all he needed to know. It bothered her more than she let on. But she cared about his happiness enough to swallow down any resentment.
“And that’s no really excuse. Because I care about you more.” His grip on her hand tightened.
“So, you don’t like her still?” Her voice was filled with doubt and insecurity.
Jacob leaned over the bed to cup her face. “No, not like that.” His calloused thumb stroked her cheek. He peeled the covers back and eased himself into bed with her. He carefully wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest. “In fact, I’m pretty in love with you,” he said shakily. She’d never seen Jacob nervous before. “Ever since I saw you, in that coffee shop. Just one look in your eyes and I know. I’m-I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. If anything happened to you… ” He kissed the top of her head. “I couldn’t handle it. Not hearing your laugh. Seeing your smile. Listening to you sing along with the radio, when you think I’m not paying attention. I love you, Y/N.” She laid there listening to the pounding of his heart. Sleep weighed her eyelids down as they fluttered. She wasn’t sure if this was a fever dream or reality. All she knew, this was the safest she’d felt all day.
Ok, I admit it. I put off reading The Host for a really long time. And honestly I was probably never going to read it, but a good friend who has excellent taste in books recommended it. And you know what? I actually liked it more than I was expecting.
Have any of you guys read The Host? What did you think of it?