eighthsense

Pro Bono vs. Lazy Critics: Guess Who Wins?

Pro Bono isn’t controversial, your privilege is. Some bubble dwellers voluntarily watched a legal drama (just 4 eps) and thought the biggest crime was queer representation or women’s autonomy. Spoiler: the only crime here is your complete lack of critical thinking. (You can find my criticism concerning this show at the end. This review only discusses first four episodes and the bad faith comments about them.)

“Too woke”
Okay, let’s unpack this embarrassing ‘hot take.’ You’re voluntarily watching a LAW drama, a genre literally about justice, society, and real life conflicts and your main critique is ‘too woke’? This show addresses teen pregnancy, anti abortion coercion, and queer rights (in first 4 eps). If that bothers you, maybe basic human rights just aren’t your thing….own it and move on.

“Pushing your agenda”
Calling women’s autonomy or queer existence an “agenda” is a rhetorical trick.
It reframes freedom as threat so that control looks like morality. Abortion as a personal vs. imposed choice. You completely ignore the distinction between personal belief and enforcing that belief on others. A religion can inform personal choices, but trying to force a fully grown woman/teen to carry a pregnancy against her will is coercion, not morality. Claiming this as “moral correctness” while decrying propaganda is contradictory.
If a belief cannot survive without being forced on others, then the belief, not the people living freely…. is the agenda. That’s the distinction.

“Propaganda”
Propaganda isn’t diversity, autonomy, or people living their truth, it’s the weaponization of belief to control others. Showing queer people on screen (for five minutes) or supporting women’s right to choose isn’t “pushing an agenda”; it’s acknowledging reality. The real agenda is hiding behind morality to take away agency: forcing a teen or sexual assault survivor to carry a pregnancy, dictating who people can love, or enforcing religious rules on everyone else while pretending it’s “for their own good.” It’s not about care or ethics; it’s about control. And the kicker? These people rarely give a damn about the outcomes, if the child is disabled, neglected, abused or struggling, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that their moral scoreboard looks clean. Freedom, choice, and empathy threaten them, so they call it an “agenda” to scare others into compliance. If your beliefs need chains to survive, that’s not morality, it’s coercion masquerading as virtue.

“This is Western crap, why bring it to Kdrama?”
Again, watching a LAW drama and complaining it’s “Western propaganda” is peak absurdity. This isn’t a romcom with rainbow sunshine; it’s a show about real societal issues which exist everywhere, not just in the U.S. Expecting a legal drama to ignore these realities is like complaining about rain during a storm. If discomfort equals propaganda, then reality itself is offensive, but maybe the problem isn’t the show, it’s the viewer.

Why did i take this drama as pro bono and defend it with my last two brain cells after scrolling through all the ignorant takes?
Because unlike some viewers, I actually understand what a law drama is, what human rights mean, and that empathy isn’t a ‘Western agenda.’ Yes, I got offended reading these comments deny basic human rights to fellow humans because it doesn’t align with their own religious beliefs. Religious beliefs should dictate how you lead your own life, not how you can control other’s life. I respect your religion and your beliefs. If you don’t want to abort your own baby, that is your choice and I will respect that. If you are not attracted to same sex, that is your orientation, I will respect that. Forcing it on others? Now thats a propaganda, not an opinion.

Media does not exist in a vacuum, it shapes what society sees as normal, moral, and acceptable. When topics addressed in this drama are ignored or softened, existing power structures are quietly validated. By portraying legal support for queer individuals and the real consequences of denying women choice over their own bodies, the show acknowledges lived realities that affect vulnerable people every day. This is not about promoting an ideology, but about refusing to romanticize control, questioning “clean” moral endings that overlook trauma, and reminding viewers that autonomy, consent, and dignity are essential to justice.


Addendum: Why I rated it high, what my actual critique is, and why that still doesn’t validate the comment section meltdown.

My initial high rating was intentional. The review space had already been flooded with low effort, ideologically driven ratings after just two/four episodes, people declaring the show “too woke” while admitting they barely watched it. The high rating was bait: to get people to actually read why this discourse matters.

That said, defending this drama from bad faith attacks does not mean I think it’s flawless or even particularly brave. In fact, my criticism starts precisely where the show pulls its punches. Despite gesturing toward queer rights, it never commits to a full queer centred legal case (yet). Representation remains implied, diluted, and safely peripheral present enough to signal progress, absent enough to avoid backlash. It is still a positive representation nonetheless. In a different perspective, this might be a stepping stone for upcoming law dramas. Similarly, the storyline involving a coerced teen pregnancy initially frames reproductive control as a legal and ethical violation, only to abandon that stance by episode four. The narrative retreats into a “neutral” resolution, having the disabled child adopted by an anti abortion hospital CEO, which conveniently avoids confronting the core issue: forcing a teenager to give birth against her will. This is narrative risk aversion. In other words, the show wants credit for raising hard questions without fully sitting in their consequences. That’s a valid critique. It reflects an industry tendency to appear progressive while ultimately reassuring conservative comfort zones. I also do not align with or endorse any alleged MAP symbolism or geopolitical propaganda some viewers have pointed out (till 4 eps).

Now here’s where the distinction matters: criticism is not the same as reactionary hate. Criticism interrogates execution, consistency, and ethical follow through. What I’m pushing back against in the comments is not thoughtful disagreement, it’s people collapsing at the mere presence of queer people or women exercising bodily autonomy and calling that collapse an “opinion.” Saying “the show avoids depth” or “it plays it too safe” is criticism. Saying “stop shoving this agenda down our throats” because marginalized people exist on screen is ideological panic.

When shows avoid fully confronting coercion, trauma, or queer legal realities, they don’t become “neutral”, they quietly reinforce existing power structures. My review defends the right of these issues to be addressed in this genre while holding the show accountable for how cautiously it ultimately does so. This review is not a blind praise. It is a refusal to let bad faith outrage masquerade as media critique. You’re allowed to dislike this drama. You’re allowed to critique its writing. What you’re not doing, no matter how loudly you insist is engaging in honest criticism when your problem is that other people’s rights make you uncomfortable.

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A new perspective on Chan Yeong’s Tennis Cinematic Universe.

“Y’all are so dramatic. Why is everyone complaining? I love the hetero couple even though it’s an unpopular opinion. I actually loved and enjoyed this drama. Ignore the haters and bl fanatics.”

(Translation-Don’t listen to all the criticism given by “bl fans”. Let’s ignore queer representation, who cares about that. Let’s focus on hetero couple like we have always.)

This is my love letter to people who said the above things.

So brave of you to stan the default straight couple in a drama where no one asked for them. And their story? revolutionary. Truly never been done before. This isn’t about disliking a couple. It’s about a storytelling failure. The hetero couple is not the enemy. The problem is that they were never the main characters. Here is an unpopular opinion. Queer baiting and straightwashing is wrong.

Criticism is not hating.
People really need to hear this: Criticizing a drama’s writing is not the same as hating a couple, hating the actors, or hating the show. Criticism means you care enough to point out what’s wrong. And what’s wrong here isn’t a matter of “taste.” It’s not “people just don’t like the side couple.” It’s not “you’re overreacting.”

Viewers aren’t angry because people like the couple.
They’re angry because: their storyline overshadows Heesu completely, the emotional core of the show is ignored, and we lose the unique perspective we were promised.

If you go to a restaurant and order ramen, and they bring you pasta with a tiny spoonful of ramen on the side, you’re not “complaining.” You’re asking for the dish you paid for.

This drama had the potential to explore: unrequited love, fear of confession, queer longing, friendship vs. romantic tension, the pain of loving someone for a decade in silence. Instead of diving into that, the show sidelines him for a straight romance we’ve seen a thousand times.
This isn’t representation.
It’s a bait-and-switch.

It’s okay to enjoy the hetero couple, but also important to acknowledge the storytelling flaws. The issue is pretending that others are “complaining” just because they expected the actual main character to matter. This drama didn’t fail because of the side couple. It failed because the writers abandoned their own protagonist and when i say “fail” Im not talking about viewership. It failed as an adaptation and it failed to do any justice to the actual story. The show betrays its own synopsis.



Do you want everyone to just sit quietly and enjoy queer erasure?
Do you want viewers to pretend the protagonist doesn’t matter? To act like it’s fine for a queer-coded main character to be shoved aside in his own story, while a straight couple absorbs 70% of the screen time? Because that’s what you’re asking when you say: “Stop complaining.”, ”I love the straight couple!”,, “Others are just being dramatic.”

That is not “preference.”
That is not “unpopular opinion.”
That is erasure: narrative, emotional, and representational.


Perspective for those who “love the hetero couple”
Liking them isn’t wrong.
But loving them shouldn’t blind us to the fact that:
* the main character’s story was never allowed to grow
* his emotional world was overshadowed by arcs that weren’t even advertised
* the drama disguised itself as one thing and delivered another
* representation was teased but not honoured
It’s misdirection, imbalance, and lost potential. Viewers aren’t “complaining.”
They’re mourning the story that could have been, the story that was supposed to belong to Heesu.
What if you were the side character in your own story ? Now this is being done just because you are queer. If you were straight this wouldn’t have happened.


What If This Happened in Straight Dramas?
Imagine this
A straight drama is advertised as a story about a boy and girl who’ve grown up together, childhood friends on the brink of something more.
The synopsis tells us:
* He’s secretly loved her for years
* She’s his world
* Their friendship is fragile and precious
* And the drama will explore that emotional tension
So you press play, expecting their story.
Now picture what actually happens:

🎬 Episode 1 to 10…
Instead of seeing the childhood-friends-to-lovers arc we were promised, the show suddenly spends:
* 30 minutes of every episode following a random side couple
* Their family trauma
* Their love life
* Their arguments
* Their reconciliation
* Their career struggles
Meanwhile, the main girl, the reason you started watching gets:
* 3 scenes per episode
* no emotional development
* no progress
* no payoff
* no real story
You waited to see the tension between the main couple, right?
The longing?
The slow-burn?
The emotional explosion we were promised in the synopsis?
But the camera keeps running back to the side couple like they paid for the show.
Would viewers stay quiet?
Would they say, “Stop complaining! Let the side couple shine!”? Of course not…..

Why? Because narrative betrayal feels the same, no matter the genre.
The issue isn’t about sexuality.
It’s about storytelling integrity.
People would riot if:
* The Heirs sidelined Kim Tan and Eun Sang to tell a teacher’s love story.
* A Business Proposal replaced the main couple with the second lead’s cousin and their personal trauma.
* Kimi ni Todoke spent 8 episodes on the girl sitting behind Sawako.
Everyone would ask the same thing viewers of Heesu in Class 2 are asking now:
Why are the main characters being treated like background furniture?
Why is the advertised story being ignored?
Why are we watching someone else’s drama?


Criticism is how we demand better.
Better storytelling.
Better focus.
Better respect for the protagonist.
Better representation.
Criticism is how we say: “This character matters. His story matters. We want the show we were promised.”
It’s not hate. It’s accountability.
And if people feel more offended by criticism than by the actual erasure happening on-screen, then maybe they need to sit with why that makes them so uncomfortable.

Why adapt a compelling queer coming-of-age story when you can force-feed the audience a straight romance and sports melodrama no one asked for?

If you wanna ignore all this and praise the revolutionary drama that truly has never been done before, go ahead.

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In Defense of Bob the Builder Toh: Naïve but Not Guilty.

Moral math is not mathing.
I’m Toh’s attorney and let’s get this out of the way first: did my client embarrass himself? Yes. Was loving Jimmy a humiliation ritual? Also yes. But does that make Toh a villain? Absolutely not. I understand the frustration with Toh’s character, however I do not understand the grace given to other characters while holding Toh at much higher standard of emotional restraint than others. I cannot believe people are more frustrated with Toh’s actions than with Jimmy for exploiting, manipulating and lying to everyone and their grandmother’s pet dog.
What’s exhausting about the discourse is how quickly people somersault into blaming the wronged party because it’s easier to dunk on a naïve character than to hold a charming liar accountable. Stupidity is not a moral crime but cheating, manipulating, lying is. I cannot comprehend how the blame shifts or lessens on the actual morally bankrupt playboy to the person getting deceived because they decided to fall blindly in love.


In defense of the gentle ones: Understanding Toh.
Flawed decisions in love do not erase a person’s right to empathy or justice. There’s a disturbing tendency in fandom spaces to treat characters who suffer visibly as if they somehow “earned” that suffering. The logic goes: you saw the red flags, you ignored them, therefore whatever happens next is on you. That mindset conveniently absolves the person who actually chose to lie, manipulate, and cheat. Toh’s real setback isn’t kindness, it’s hope. The belief that consistency will eventually be reciprocated if he’s patient enough. That belief doesn’t make him weak, it makes him human. That vulnerability is exactly what people seem most eager to punish. The tragedy is not that Toh loves deeply, it’s that he loves someone who uses that depth against him. By framing Toh’s humiliation as something he “deserved,” the narrative some people push ends up doing something far uglier…. it turns kindness into a liability and trust into a joke. It suggests that unless a character is perfectly rational, emotionally guarded, and self protective at all times, they forfeit the right to sympathy.
It irks me how Toh’s kindness gets reframed as a character flaw rather than what it actually is: a personality trait that other people exploit. Gentleness is not stupidity and emotional openness is not moral failure. Toh isn’t “wrong” because he’s soft, he’s wrong because he keeps extending grace to someone who repeatedly proves undeserving of it. That distinction matters. Being kind does not make him responsible for the harm inflicted on him, it only explains why he stays longer than he should. A lot of the hate Toh receives stems from a deeply ingrained discomfort with characters who don’t perform emotional hardness. People are far more forgiving of characters who are cold, detached, or even cruel, as long as they appear “self aware.” Meanwhile, a character who leads with empathy is expected to magically grow a backbone the moment things go south and if they don’t, they’re treated as complicit in their own mistreatment.
What I mean to say is people should be more furious with Jimmy for taking advantage of Toh when he is naive and kind rather than being angry at Toh for being vulnerable. Instead of asking why Jimmy is comfortable benefiting from Toh’s affection while offering none of the stability that affection requires, the conversation shifts to why Toh “should’ve known better.” Yes, he should have. But knowing better does not equal deserving worse. This idea that victims must behave perfectly to deserve compassion is toxic. Toh doesn’t stop being wronged just because he makes bad decisions. Pain doesn’t become invalid because someone “should’ve known better.” Expecting victims to be rational, detached, and emotionally disciplined at all times is an unrealistic standard we rarely apply in real life, yet people demand it mercilessly from fictional characters they find annoying. You can acknowledge Toh’s mistakes without minimising Jimmy’s wrongdoing. You can criticise Toh’s choices without rewriting the narrative to make him responsible for being deceived.
Reducing Toh to “stupid” or “pathetic” ignores the more uncomfortable truth: many people see parts of themselves in him.
And it’s easier to mock a reflection than to sit with it.


The Playboy Immunity Clause
There’s this bizarre expectation that Toh should have perfect emotional discipline simply because Jimmy has a reputation. As if knowing someone is a playboy automatically immunises you from developing feelings, or obligates you to shut your heart off on command. People don’t fall in love because it’s sensible. They fall in love because it feels safe, hopeful, or validating in the moment, even when it isn’t. You can ask all the logical questions: Why get involved when everyone warned you? Why give him another chance? Why ignore what’s right in front of you?
All valid and fair but logic does not govern the heart. Infatuation may be foolish but cheating is a choice and these two things are not, and will never be, morally equivalent.
Why is Toh expected to walk away perfectly, regulate his emotions flawlessly, make the “right” decision every time while Jimmy is tolerated to lie repeatedly, blur boundaries, cheat, string people along…because “he’s a playboy” or “that’s just who he is”?
Lowering expectations for Jimmy while raising them for Toh is so biased. Being openly morally questionable does not entitle someone to gentler judgment. If anything, the person with less power in the situation deserves more understanding, not less. Jimmy’s “playboy” label is treated like a get out of jail free card. Somehow, people shrug and say: “Well, that’s just who he is.” If you can give grace or justify jimmy’s actions, I don’t know how some people are being so dense with Toh’s actions. It’s not rocket science to understand why he is giving jimmy, a chance.

If anyone is thinking that “He didn’t make it official”, “Jimmy never said he loved him”, “There was no commitment.”, I need you to understand this clearly: a lack of labels does not equal a lack of responsibility. Jimmy may not have made things official with Toh, but he still created emotional dependency. He still encouraged intimacy, allowed attachment to grow, and continued to keep Toh close while knowing full well that Toh was emotionally invested. If you knowingly let someone fall for you, continue to blur boundaries, and then act shocked when they expect honesty or consistency, you are not “technically innocent.” You are being deliberately evasive. Jimmy benefits from ambiguity. Ambiguity gives him freedom without accountability. By refusing to define the relationship, Jimmy keeps his options open while keeping Toh emotionally tethered. Toh gets confusion, anxiety, and insecurity while Jimmy gets affection, loyalty, and access without having to offer the same in return. That imbalance matters. People act like harm only exists once a relationship is formally named, but emotional exploitation doesn’t wait for official status. Jimmy knew Toh’s feelings and expectations but he continued anyway. You don’t need to promise love to owe someone basic honesty. You don’t need a title to be accountable for the emotional mess you create.
Some people try to give Jimmy “credit” for refusing to sleep with his ex. Sure, one good decision but that does not erase the months of lies, manipulation, and emotional exploitation he’s inflicted on Toh. A single act of restraint does not reset the moral scoreboard. Jimmy’s occasional acts of decency are actually part of why he’s so effective at manipulation, they give Toh false hope and make us confuse sporadic kindness with overall goodness.


The Selective Accountability Olympics.
Toh is constantly put on trial for every bad decision he makes, while Jimmy is treated like a force of nature, unfortunate, inevitable, and therefore excusable. Toh is not blameless, he makes choices that are frustrating, self destructive, and avoidable. He gets involved with Jimmy despite repeated warnings, he ignores his brother’s concerns, he lies to his brother’s face to protect a relationship that isn’t even stable. These are valid criticisms, there is no argument there. But criticism is not the same as condemnation.
What’s happening instead is that Toh’s mistakes are being used to absolve Jimmy of responsibility, as if one person’s poor judgment automatically cancels out another person’s wrongdoing. That logic is deeply flawed. Toh’s emotional weakness and Jimmy’s intentional harm are not morally equivalent. Jimmy’s actions are deliberate: he lies, withholds truth, cheats, and manipulates situations to maintain access to multiple people without accountability. Accountability doesn’t mean everyone gets blamed equally. It means blame is assigned proportionally. How is everyone placing the heaviest burden on the person who is being wronged rather than the one doing the wrong. This is just scapegoating.


Infatuation vs Deliberate Harm
One thing this discourse keeps refusing to acknowledge is the fundamental difference between emotional irrationality and deliberate harm. Toh’s biggest “crime” is infatuation. Infatuation is not logical. It makes people override common sense, dismiss warnings, and cling to hope long after it stops being reasonable. That doesn’t make it admirable, but it makes it human. But they exist in an entirely different moral category than what Jimmy is doing.
Cheating is not a misunderstanding. Manipulation is not an accident. Stringing someone along while keeping multiple options open requires awareness, planning, and repeated choices. Jimmy knows Toh is emotionally invested. He knows Toh is vulnerable. And instead of creating distance or being honest, he continues to benefit from that attachment while offering nothing solid in return. What’s especially frustrating is how people collapse these two behaviors into the same level of wrongdoing, as if “making bad choices in love” and “actively deceiving someone” cancel each other out.


Burn this script.
Script doing mental gymnastics to downplay Jimmy’s action is diabolical. Framing Toh as easily exploitable, jealous, insecure when he is just responding to suspicious situations that Jimmy created is malicious. Not them trying to justify a pattern of infidelity and emotional harm while shaming the person who actually trusted and loved.
Jimmy’s ex saying “I should have been more patient, at least you didn’t physically harm me” is an insane moral calculus. The argument assumes cheating is somehow acceptable if it isn’t physically violent. Emotional harm is still harm. Being cheated on is betrayal, plain and simple. It implies that victims of manipulation are responsible for enduring bad behavior. If someone cheats, the onus isn’t on the partner to be patient, the responsibility is on the cheater.
I don’t have a problem with angst or messy plots. I do have a problem with badly done messy plots. There’s a difference between emotional chaos that feels earned and emotional chaos that feels like ragebait dressed up as “realism.” Messy plots already demand emotional labor but when the mess is poorly executed, it stops being compelling and starts feeling like intentional provocation. Burnout Syndrome is extremely messy. The characters are morally complicated, their decisions are questionable, and their relationships are tangled. But it works because the production, acting, and writing are doing the heavy lifting. The characters feel complex and their choices feel like extensions of who they are. The mess comes from psychology and circumstance, not because the script needs a shock factor every episode. That’s why the production, acting direction, film score matters so much when the plot itself is chaotic. In Love Alert, the characters often feel shallow, not because they couldn’t have depth, but because the script doesn’t bother to give them any. They behave the way they do because the plot demands it, not because their inner lives logically lead them there. You can’t just stitch together emotional beats and call it storytelling. Take Love Mechanics as another example. The plot was undeniably messy…..cheating, poor decisions, emotional selfishness but the execution carried it. The scenes flowed naturally, the emotional escalation made sense, and the criticism toward War’s character was earned. He made foolish, selfish choices while actively justifying cheating, and the narrative treated that seriously. The angst was purposeful. That’s the key difference is well executed angst feels heavy, not hollow. The frustrating part in Love Alert is that the concept on paper is genuinely intriguing. There is a good story buried in here somewhere. But the execution falls embarrassingly short. Scenes don’t flow into each other, emotional beats don’t land, and the overall viewing experience feels disjointed.
Now, about the acting. Yes, it’s a little awkward. And that awkwardness is amplified by how uncinematic the show looks. The framing is flat and the scenes don’t flow. Even decent performances would struggle in this kind of visual environment. I will always have grace for actors who are still improving. Acting is a skill. There is always room to grow. I’m not gonna go heavy on criticising actors. I have seen people disguising shallow insults as criticism. Dragging actors’ looks is not critique, it’s lazy, and it contributes nothing. The one undeniable saving grace? The face cards, they never decline but a strong visual cast can only carry a show so far. At the end of the day, no amount of pretty can compensate for weak direction, tonal whiplash, and characters written like emotional placeholders instead of people.


Cheating is not a love language.
Representation is not desensitisation, showing flawed characters, messy relationships, or complex love triangles is not inherently bad. Romanticism of cheating and people defending it proves how desensitised cheating has become. Media consistently romanticises cheating, excuses manipulators, and punishes the emotionally invested, it desensitises audiences to betrayal. When I say “romanticism”, I’m talking about people completely disregarding the victim’s feelings and finding cheating as hot. Evidently seen so in Love in the moonlight and Shine BL dramas. People were hating on female leads for reacting to being cheated on rather than two men cheating on their significant others. They found affairs hot and hated on everyone who didn’t. That is the desensitisation I’m referring to.
Cheating has become normalised, romanticised, and morally diluted. Emotional betrayal is treated as a minor inconvenience, a plot twist, or even a badge of passion. Cheating is cheating, whether it’s physical, emotional, or manipulative. Yet somehow, narratives repeatedly convince audiences that it’s acceptable if the cheater is charming, attractive, or already labeled a “playboy.” The more shocking part? People often empathise with the cheater’s struggle while blaming the victim for trusting, loving, or hoping for loyalty. The moral message becomes insidious, if you want a healthy relationship, you’re unreasonable and if you tolerate betrayal, you’re mature. Fans internalise this, shrugging at repeated betrayal and labeling victims as foolish for expecting basic honesty. This risks glorifying betrayal and normalising manipulation as a core component of romance. Cheating should never be romanticised. Emotional harm should never be minimised. And the moral responsibility of a manipulator should never be lessened because they’re “charming” or “complex.”

I have answered some questions you might be typing in a comment below since this review is so long.

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Does the weight of a crime disappear if the “crazy” are the only ones who remember it?

1.Moral Inconsistency
In this tale of those branded insane, what bothers me most about this series is the lack of moral consistency. The drama is meticulous almost relentless when it comes to punishing vigilante murderers, yet strikingly indifferent when harm is committed within socially acceptable roles like “parent,” “spouse,” or “family member.” The vigilantes who kill child abusers are pursued, condemned, and destroyed by the narrative. They are framed as criminals first and foremost, regardless of motive or emotional torment. The law closes in, society judges them, and the story ensures they face irreversible consequences. Their actions are treated as unforgivable, even when driven by grief, trauma, or desperation.

Now contrast that with the stepmother who killed her stepdaughter. Her consequence is not legal punishment, social condemnation, or even sustained moral reckoning. The primary “penalty” she faces is that the female lead does not forgive her. But refusal to forgive is not justice, it is an emotional boundary. It protects the victim; it does not hold the perpetrator accountable. Treating emotional estrangement as sufficient consequence for murder is a profound narrative imbalance. The female lead’s refusal to forgive is emotionally valid, but it cannot carry the entire weight of justice alone. Forgiveness is not a substitute for accountability, and silence is not resolution.

And then there is the husband. His infidelity, committed during his wife’s pregnancy, no less is effectively erased. He lives comfortably, faces no meaningful fallout, and continues his life without remorse or accountability. The drama does not even pretend to interrogate his actions. His betrayal is framed as incidental, something too minor to deserve narrative weight.
What disturbed me most was the way the drama implicitly suggests that betrayal becomes acceptable when the victim is unwell or emotionally vulnerable. Does the weight of commitment disappear when a partner is no longer “easy” to love? What, then, becomes of the vow of “in sickness and in health”? The narrative seems to quietly discard it the moment the wife actually needs support. Even more unsettling is how casually the story portrays the daughter’s almost immediate acceptance of the mistress simply because she is “nice,” as though kindness toward a child can neutralize betrayal of the family. This depiction is deeply troubling, not because forgiveness is impossible, but because it is presented as natural, effortless, and morally uncomplicated. The drama normalizes cheating without interrogation or consequence, creating the impression that infidelity falls within an acceptable range of behavior when a spouse is struggling. Leaving a sick partner might draw social judgment, but cheating (according to the narrative) is treated as understandable, even expected. It is not the act alone that disturbs me most, but how easily everyone moves on, as if betrayal is a reasonable response to hardship rather than a deliberate violation of trust.

This raises an uncomfortable question:
Are some harms considered less worthy of consequence simply because they occur within “normal” family structures?
By punishing only those who act outside the system, the drama sends a message: that harm committed quietly, politely, and within accepted social roles is more forgivable than harm committed loudly in response to injustice. This is selective accountability.
The story insists that killing is unforgivable when done by those seeking justice for abused children, yet strangely negotiable when done by a stepmother behind closed doors. It condemns rage born from trauma but excuses betrayal born from convenience. In doing so, it unintentionally reinforces the very societal failures it claims to critique, where power, respectability, and silence shield wrongdoers from consequence.

When the narrative allows certain characters to move on unscathed simply because their wrongdoing is not the “focus,” it diminishes the seriousness of their actions.
Ultimately, the drama asks viewers to accept that some lives are destroyed for crossing moral lines, while others are allowed to thrive because their crimes are inconvenient to confront.


2.COMPLEXITY AND ACCOUNTABILITY
It is important to separate complexity from accountability. A well written character can be layered and still be unequivocally wrong. Depth, trauma, internal conflict, or sympathetic framing can help us understand why a character acts the way they do, but understanding is not the same as justification.

Circumstances may apply pressure, but they do not remove agency. Complexity does not erase choice. Every harmful act depicted in the drama (cheating, betrayal, neglect, even murder) was the result of a decision. Sympathy for their circumstances does not justify the pain they caused, nor does it absolve them of responsibility. When we absolve characters simply because they are nuanced or emotionally conflicted, we blur the line between empathy and excuse making. Explaining why someone chose self interest over commitment does not undo the damage caused, nor does it restore trust, safety, or dignity to the victim. Sympathy for the perpetrator’s internal struggle cannot outweigh accountability for the harm they knowingly caused. Defending these characters because they are “not purely evil” also sets a troubling standard: that wrongdoing is forgivable as long as it is done quietly, politely, or with sufficient emotional complexity. True complexity would require the narrative to hold these characters accountable while acknowledging their inner conflict. Without consequence, complexity becomes a shield rather than a lens. It turns moral failure into a character trait instead of what it actually is: a violation that demands recognition.

Complex characters can be compelling, tragic, even sympathetic. But complexity should deepen responsibility, not erase it.


3.Weight of a crime.
The weight of a crime does not disappear simply because of time, intention, remorse, circumstance, or narrative framing. If the question is whether the severity of wrongdoing lessens because the perpetrator suffered, felt conflicted, believed they had reasons, or because the story moves on, the answer remains the same: harm does not evaporate because it becomes inconvenient to acknowledge.
A crime’s weight is defined by the damage inflicted, not by how quietly it is absorbed, how gracefully the victim endures it, or how sympathetically the offender is portrayed. Silence from the victim does not equal absolution. Survival does not equal healing. Forgiveness, if it even exists does not retroactively erase wrongdoing.

What often does disappear is accountability. Narratives frequently shift focus away from consequences and toward the perpetrator’s emotional state, reframing harm as tragedy rather than responsibility. This does not reduce the crime’s gravity; it merely obscures it. The pain remains, even when it is no longer centered. If anything, the absence of consequences makes the crime heavier, not lighter because it reinforces the idea that some people’s suffering is expected, tolerable, or expendable. The weight does not disappear. It is either carried, acknowledged, and answered for or it is left to rest on the victim alone.


4.Severity can be ranked. Accountability cannot be optional.
Cheating, child harm, and murder cannot be meaningfully compared in a way that makes one “cancel out” or excuse the others, nor can they be reduced into something forgivable simply because a story decides only one of them is “important.”
What can be compared is severity, but comparison is not the same as erasure. In a drama, prioritisation of certain crimes for narrative focus does not change the moral weight of the others. When a story treats child abuse or murder as “serious” while framing cheating as trivial, understandable, or forgettable, it is not making a moral distinction, it is making a narrative convenience. The harm does not become smaller just because the plot moves past it.

Cheating is not equivalent to murder or child abuse in scale, but it is still a serious ethical violation. It involves deliberate betrayal, emotional harm, and often the destabilization of families and children. Reducing it to a forgivable flaw because “worse things exist” is a false moral hierarchy. By that logic, almost any harm could be dismissed as long as something more extreme appears elsewhere in the story.
Child harm and murder are crimes of irreversible damage; cheating is a crime of trust. They are different in form, but all are rooted in choice, power imbalance, and disregard for another person’s wellbeing. None of them become forgivable simply because the perpetrator suffered, had reasons, or was portrayed sympathetically. A drama can choose what it emphasises, but it cannot ethically reduce harm into irrelevance. Prioritizing one crime does not erase another. And no amount of narrative framing can transform intentional harm whether emotional or physical into something morally neutral or automatically forgivable.


5.Normalisation
I think cheating has become far too normalized, especially in media and popular narratives. It’s often framed as something inevitable, understandable, or even romantic, rather than what it actually is: a serious breach of trust. When infidelity is repeatedly portrayed without real consequences, it subtly reshapes how people perceive it, making betrayal seem less severe than it truly is.

Cheating is not a symptom of love “fading” or circumstances being difficult, it is a choice. Normalising it strips accountability from the person who made that choice and shifts focus away from the harm inflicted on the betrayed partner. This is particularly damaging because it minimizes emotional trauma and reinforces the idea that loyalty is optional when things become inconvenient.

Betraying someone you once professed to love, and with whom you share a child cannot be reduced to a narrative inconvenience or a morally neutral act. When infidelity occurs during pregnancy, a time of physical vulnerability and emotional strain, it reflects an even deeper level of disregard. Such behavior is not merely hurtful; it is ethically indefensible.

What is especially troubling is how the show minimizes this act by framing it as secondary to “more important” plot elements. In doing so, it implicitly treats infidelity as commonplace or inevitable, rather than as a serious violation deserving of accountability. The absence of consequences, social, emotional, or moral….creates the impression that betrayal carries little weight. The character in question assumes no responsibility, expresses no remorse, and faces no meaningful repercussions. This narrative choice subtly reinforces the idea that cheating is an acceptable or understandable response to relational difficulty, which is both misleading and harmful.

Cheating is not an unavoidable circumstance; it is a deliberate decision. At every point, there is an opportunity to communicate, seek support, or disengage honestly. Choosing instead to pursue another person, especially while one’s partner is enduring a difficult period reflects a prioritization of self interest over commitment and empathy. Portraying such a choice without consequence undermines the seriousness of the act and dismisses the emotional damage it causes.

Moreover, the lack of visible betrayal or reaction from the affected partner does not negate the harm done. Emotional restraint or forgiveness should not be mistaken for indifference, nor should it erase the wrongdoing itself. Even if the individual character is written as composed or self-sacrificing, the broader impact remains on the family, on those around her, and on the audience interpreting these dynamics. Media representations carry influence, and when betrayal is downplayed, it risks normalizing behavior that fractures trust and destabilizes relationships.
Ultimately, the issue is not simply about one character’s actions, but about the message the narrative conveys. By glossing over infidelity without addressing its moral and emotional consequences, the show fails to acknowledge the real world weight of such choices. Cheating should not be portrayed as a minor flaw or a tolerable norm; it is a serious violation that demands accountability. Ignoring this reality does a disservice not only to the characters involved, but also to viewers who understand the lasting harm betrayal can cause.


6.Thoughts on this Drama
The story unfolded in a fairly intense and engaging way, and I did find the progression compelling. Acting and pacing of the story was well done. However, from the very beginning, it was quite clear to me who was responsible. The character’s lean physique and, more notably, the disproportionate amount of screen time given to someone presented as a “side” character immediately stood out. For a character who was supposedly irrelevant to the central conflict, their repeated appearances felt deliberate rather than incidental. That narrative emphasis made it obvious that they were going to play a much larger role in the story, ultimately giving away the reveal long before it was officially confirmed.

One of the drama’s strongest elements lies in the cases themselves. Each case is disturbing, emotionally heavy, and handled with a level of seriousness that reflects the gravity of the subject matter. Rather than being used for shock value alone, the cases serve as mirrors to broader societal failures: neglect, abuse, silence, and the ways adults repeatedly fail children who depend on them for protection. What makes these cases particularly impactful is how they expose not only individual cruelty, but systemic indifference. The suffering depicted is not exaggerated or sensationalized; it feels painfully plausible, which makes it all the more unsettling. Through these narratives, the drama forces viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about responsibility, complicity, and the long term consequences of unchecked harm.

I thoroughly enjoyed the drama overall. That said, every time the husband appeared on screen, or the stepmother for that matter, I felt genuinely angry. They are not simply family members who made unfortunate mistakes or acted out of ignorance. They made conscious, deliberate choices that directly harmed FL. Their actions were not accidental, nor were they the result of misunderstandings, they knowingly prioritized their own interests at her expense. What frustrates me most is how the narrative attempts to soften their behavior by portraying them as otherwise “decent” or reasonable people. Decency cannot coexist with repeated, intentional harm. Being polite, well spoken, or socially acceptable does not erase the fact that they betrayed her trust and contributed to her suffering. Reducing their actions to mere family conflict minimizes the severity of what they did.

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Awful plot. Tw : R*pe

The whole dynamic of the second couple is so wrong. R*ping someone is not okay in any world. Idc if he has a sad backstory , it doesn't justify violating someone he claims that he likes. He could have waited it out. The plot felt disgusting and wrong. I don't like how they make it seem like a guy getting r*ped is no big deal. This is so messed up , it was suffocating to watch. Would not recommend this.

Not y'all justifying r*pe when he clearly got him drunk and f'ed him while he was in a drunken state, if he was confident that his brother liked him , he wouldn't have done that. AND IF ANYONE DOES THAT TO A PERSON THEY LOVE THEY ARE F*CKED UP IN THE HEAD.

"They were in love" oh then why did he get his brother drunk? Why couldn't he keep it in his pants & WAIT UNTIL HE GOT A CLEAR YES BEFORE DOING IT? Why is violating someone okay just because you like them?
That is not the way to go about when you like someone.
"YES" IN A CLEAR CONSCIOUS MIND = CONSENT. Would that man give consent to his brother when he was not drunk? NO HE WOULDN'T. IDFC IF HE WAS IN DENIAL THAT HE LOVED HIS BROTHER OR NOT. THAT DOESN'T EXCUSE ANYTHING. THE BROTHER SHOULD HAVE WAITED IT OUT INSTEAD OF R*APING THE PERSON HE LOVED. THE BROTHER WAS DAMN SURE THAT HE WOULDN'T GIVE CONSENT THAT'S WHY HE GOT HIM DRUNK. FICTIONAL OR NOT, THIS IS WRONG. IN NO WORLD IS THIS OKAY.

People go watch movies or dramas to feel and escape reality and if this escape of yours includes justifying r*ape because the r*pist had a sad backstory or the victim was in denial of his feelings, you need therapy.

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