#like obvious to me she's given up on that project entirely. to punish me. for telling her she made a mistake

[mildmayfoxe]

my boss subscribes to my patreon (gag) (i appreciate the support but also leave me alone) (why are you inserting yourself into my personal life) (she also joined my patreon discord last week (double gag)) and the other day when i brought her in her stickers she was like "you're so organized!!" (no shit) (compared to her) "you actually send rewards out every month!!" (of course i do. that's my job) "so many people i back on patreon don't even manage to send out their rewards, haha" (what the fuck. no wonder you're so lackadaisical with the store patreon) "you're like patreon goals!!!" (condescending) (are you for real. maybe you should follow my lead with your own business. imo.) (i could give you feedback if you were will CAPABLE of hearing feedback and not flipping out if anyone tells you anything remotely negative) (but you dont pay me for that and you dont ask and its not my job)

[technicallyverycowboy]

playboyy: no fags, no femmes

okay, so. playboyy meta. thanks to @lugarn, @chaos0pikachu, and @cryptidafter for talking all this out with me <3

i originally started this post with "not to be that guy," but honestly, i do want to be that guy. because so much of the critique and analysis of playboyy i'm seeing is a) grounded in a lack of knowledge about queer history and aesthetics and b) veers unintentionally but wildly into unexamined homophobia.

so, given i'm going to reference susan sontag's notes on camp several times, i've decided i might as well go full queer studies major about it and copy the list style she uses. (i would highly recommend reading notes on camp. it is academic and somewhat dense, but it's a tame 13 pages)

1. so many people are confidently asserting that playboyy is not camp, regardless of what the creatives behind the show think. to which i have to ask: how are you defining camp? what things are campy to y'all?

2. the personal definition of camp that i arrived at after writing a bunch of papers about it is two-fold: camp is exaggeration, treating things that are serious casually and treating things that are casual seriously. camp is about an aesthetic of inhabiting a role, where something is a little bit off or being something that it's not meant to be.

and to be clear, this is a wildly incomplete and simplified definition, because one of the points of camp is that it's a vibe, not something concrete. It’s also something that shifts over time the relationship between queerness and society changes.

2a. camp often intersects and overlaps with surrealism, like in rocky horror picture show. very often media that is campy exits the mundane world and enters a heightened world of exaggeration and stylization. 

3. so, is playboyy campy? i sure as hell think it is. i think lugarn and chaos0pikachu both made really good points about the campiness of playboyy and it being specifically sexwork camp. (both replies are at that link.)

4. a brief list of things that specifically resonated as campy to me: first throwing american dollars in the pool for soong to catch, zouey's fantasy of feeling up teena in art class, every single element of nant's room (especially the projected images), captain's sports plot that involved zero doing the sport and 100% fucking and fantasy, the softly romantic framing of nuth and phob's sex scenes, jump's pleather tank top & coverall combination, prom wearing assless chaps to a rooftop party at 2:30 in the afternoon, the entire concept of investigating a disappearance via a themed party... i could go on and on, but i said this was brief.

5. i think the actual problem a lot of people have with playboyy is that it doesn't care about straight people.

6. what i mean by that is that playboyy is not a universal story. you could not plug different characters with different sexualities into the plot and preserve the essence of the story. the gayness of the characters is integral to the plot. the sex work is integral to the plot. this is not a world where homophobia doesn't exist and being gay is just like being straight.

7. additionally, these characters are all performing gender in a specifically queer way. they are femmes and fags, they are obvious, they are clockable, they're visible. when nice gays talk about the people who are giving gays a bad reputation and making it harder for everyone (to assimilate into heteropatriarchy) they're talking about playboyy gays.

8. comparing playboyy to only friends is low hanging fruit at this point, but i would argue that the reason boston stood out in that cast and was so viciously punished by the ending is because he was a fag stuck in a nice gays narrative.

9. and this is where the fandom homophobia comes in. so, so many people describe these characters and chaotic and messy, watchable as incoherent and vaguely amusing from a distance, but without real substance. the resulting narrative is often that no one could take their characters or their stories seriously or resonate with them.

10. again, why? why was ray and sand's high and low, blow up fights, calling each other whores relatable but soong and first's miscommunications about what they mean to each other unbelievable chaos? why is white taking black's place an acceptable plot point, but nont pretending to be nant is absurd?

11. most bls do not deal with flamboyance except in limited capacities by comedic side characters. flamboyance is a baseline trait for most of the playboyy characters. so if they feel too much, too loud, too out there, consider asking yourself why they do.

12. to a large extent, i think a lot of the criticism of playboyy is rooted in a bad faith refusal to engage with the show beyond a surface level pearl clutching about the sexual content. the unspoken belief here being that sex scenes are inherently vulgar distractions. they can't be integral to characters or their relationships. they can't be vital pieces of a narrative.

to which i say, there are nine thousand other BLs out there where the kissing is chaste and sex scenes are ~tastefully abstracted shots of shoulder blades and hands. watch those instead.

13. if you decide you want to watch it anyway, take a couple minutes to examine what parts of the show make you uncomfortable and why. and to be clear, i think there’s a lot of value in watching things that make you uncomfortable; media is often one of the best ways to dip into interrogating your emotional responses from a safe distance. 

but don’t use discomfort to dismiss the possibility that there’s meaningful artistic and stylistic choices made to serve a meaningful narrative. take a second to sit with your reactions and ask yourself where it’s coming from. 

[dzthenerd490]

File: Elfen Lied

SCP#: ADY

Code Name: The Clone Plague/ The Diclonius Invasion

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: All contained instances of SCP-ADY-Alpha are contained at Site-AB. They are to be contained within metal coffins and have headsets that project memetic images into their eyes. The memetic agents send their minds into a dream-like state within the mind allowing them to indulge in whatever desires they want without limitations. Meanwhile the metal coffins hook them up to Pygmalion Bio Editor Station that keeps their bodies paralyzed while also injecting them with the medication and nutrients needed for their bodies to stay alive. The only exception is Lucy.

Lucy is contained at Site-AF and is to be given any furniture, books, and games she desires. Any Foundation staff that show scorn or hatred towards her are to be punished with cleaning duty of SCP-035's containment cell. There are no exceptions. 

SCP-ADY-Beta instances are contained depending on their mental state and allyship with the Foundation. Though for obvious reasons none are allowed within Site-AM even if they have confirmed to have no violent tendencies or desire to spread infection. Those that prove they are not a threat, but allies are sent to the higher levels of Site-AF and given treatment similar to Lucy. Those with the worst personalities and most violent tendencies are contained within one of the sublevels of Site-AF. There they are used for testing weapons and armor that are supposed to be useful against metaphysical threats. They are typically used until they die and are later dissected and harvested for testing purposes. Under no circumstances are any SCP-ADY instances in the higher or lower levels ever to interact with one another even through eye contact and even if it's just once. 

SCP-ADY-Delta instances are to be killed on sight and have their bodies transported to the nearest Foundation site for dissection, harvesting, and testing. There are no exceptions. 

Most SCP-ADY-Gamma are Contained at Site-AD, though depending on their mutation it's possible for them to be sent elsewhere. Dr. Wicked and administrative staff at Site-AD are to be debriefed on what exactly the anomalous properties of each SCP-ADY-Gamma instance so that they can make proper containment for each instance. Please see Addendum X-32 for details.

Description: SCP-ADY is a virus that once infecting humans causes any children, they convince to not be born as a human but instead an entirely different species. The most common of these instances are SCP-ADY-Beta instances. SCP-ADY-Beta instances take on the appearance of young and beautiful girls with red eyes, pink hair, and horns growing out of their head. Despite being horns they can often be perceived as cat ears from a distance further making the SCP-ADY-Beta instances look adorable and pretty as a result. 

However, despite looking cute, SCP-ADY-Beta instances are extremely dangerous. Upon reaching a certain age, normally 10 years old, each SCP-ADY-Beta instance gains the anomalous ability to manifest four arm-like appendages from their back. These appendages are metaphysical in nature, being invisible and able to phase through all forms of matter. SCP-ADY-Beta instances can control the physical state of these appendages in whether they can phase or become solid, the maximum length of these appendages are normally 2-4 meters. These appendages, or meta-arms, despite resembling arms, move around like tentacles and can do so with incredible speed. Once solid, they are strong enough to bend steel easily, rip apart flesh effortlessly, and can even infect humans with SCP-ADY upon contact.

SCP-ADY-Beta instances are very good at absorbing knowledge and thus can become a genius in a matter of hours upon being born. It's not uncommon for SCP-ADY-Beta instances to act innocent, cute, and fragile in order to get the drop on humans they plan to infect or kill. When an SCP-ADY-Beta instance infects a human with their meta-arms, the resulting child from pregnancy is an SCP-ADY-Beta instance exactly like themselves. However, they will always start off with the same personality the original SCP-ADY-Beta instance started off with the same desires and views on humanity regardless of how much the parent SCP-ADY-Beta instance has changed in personality and desires since then. The only exception is SCP-ADY-Alpha instances.

SCP-ADY-Alpha instances are considered the Queens of the overall species. Each SCP-ADY-Alpha instance is similar to SCP-ADY-Beta instances though they all have the ability to create unique SCP-ADY-Beta instances with their infection and can summon more of these meta-arms either by the age of 10 or over time through various other means. The normal count of meta-arms they can grow is anywhere between 8-32 and can extend anywhere from 3-30 meters, possibly longer.

SCP-ADY-Alpha instances are the true progenitors of all other variants within the SCP-ADY species and the carriers of the true pure form of the virus. SCP-ABY-Beta instances are not necessarily obedient to SCP-ADY-Alpha instances, but they normally do not attack one another regardless. Each SCP-ADY-Alpha instance is born the same way as a SCP-ABY-Beta instance, they are like a mutation that has a 10% of happening for every SCP-ADY birth. 

Currently the Foundation is in possession of eight of these instances. The most important on record is one named Lucy. Lucy has the particular ability of accelerated thought, allowing her to perceive and remember everything she sees around her with great efficiency, accuracy, and speed. This with the added bonus that all SCP-ADY metaphysical arms can move at incredible speeds means she could essentially do hundreds of things around her at once. It's even possible for her to use her metaphysical arms to block hundreds of different bullets around her. Thankfully being raised with Foundation staff she has grown a kinship with humanity and all life as a result. She has no desire to kill non-SCP-ADY life and no desire to spread the infection. She does get aggravated when the occasional Foundation staff member bullies her but thankfully it never gets too violent, she normally just plunges them headfirst into the nearest toilet. 

SCP-ADY-Delta instances are extremely rare male counterparts of all the SCP-ADY instances. They sometimes have pink hair, red eyes, and horns like their female counterparts but more often than not, they are bald with just the horns. Most of the time they are unable to manifest the metaphysical arms. The best they can do is manifest one, two if they are lucky; their length is normally 1 meter or lower. SCP-ADY-Delta instances are considered not a threat on their own; however, if an SCP-ADY-Delta instance were to mate with an SCP-ADY-Beta instance the result would be a naturally birthed SCP-ADY-Alpha instance. Furthermore, if one was to mate with an SCP-ADY-Alpha instance, the result would be an even more powerful SCP-ADY-Alpha instance. As such, every SCP-ADY-Delta instance is to be killed on sight, there are no exceptions. 

SCP-ADY-Gamma are extremely peculiar instances, in that they are not supposed to exist. SCP-ADY-Gamma instances are the result of the SCP-ADY infection spreading unknowingly to non-humans. The resulting mutations have led to an abundance of abnormalities. Please see Addendum X-32 for details. 

SCP-ADY was discovered in Japan in 1917 when the National Research Institute on Human Evolution tried to form into power by capturing and sharing research on SCP-ADY with the Japanese Government. It was quickly destroyed by the Global Occult Coalition and most of the SCP-ADY instances captured there were killed as well. Over the years survivors of the Institute as well as escaped SCP-ADY instances have been hunted by the GOC. 

Unfortunately, under law of the ACPA, the Global Occult Coalition has complete reins over the subjugation of SCP-ADY. As such, the Foundation's Japanese division is to merely wait for SCP-ADY instances to show up at their doorstep in order to have any rights to containment. This is why no specific MTF has been assigned or created to deal with the threat. 

SCP-ADY was considered a massive threat upon discovery; However, as of 2005 a vaccine has been created and secretly distributed to the public through normal vaccines. Naturally without the virus, the population of SCP-ADY instances are slowly dying out. Though unfortunately there are SCP-ADY-Gamma instances that are able to create a different strain of the virus making the vaccine worthless against them. Thankfully the Foundation was able to gain reign over these instances, though that is not to say it's always been successful. 

The SCP-ADY-Gamma infection has proven extremely impossible to properly predict and is extremely dangerous to the point multiple MTF have been created for even a single instance and the Foundation has suffered massive damage and casualties as a result. It's unknown if the situation will ever get better or become progressively worse as a result. It is solely because of SCP-ADY-Gamma instances that SCP-ADY is still given the Object Classification of Keter.

Update 2008 - Lucy and the few confirmed non-hostile SCP-ADY-Beta instances have been employed by the Foundation. Though unknown to them, chips have been placed on the back of their necks so that if they start going on rampages they will be killed instantly. Though thankfully such a scenario requiring the devices has never occurred, it is with hope this will continue long into the future. Furthermore, Lucy has joined MTF Alpha-9 Division "Sword" and with the help of Dr. Talic has managed to control her murderous instances to reserve it towards hostiles instead. 

Side Note: SCP-ADY instances have unfortunately fallen into the possession of other groups of Interest such as The Black Queen's Insurgency; Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd; Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting; SAPPHIRE; The Reliquary; IJAMEA; The Fifth Church; The Serpent's Hand; Shark Punching Center; and The Dark Dragons. Some have even been reported trying to help restore the SCP-ADY population for various different reasons. The ACPA's efforts to stop this are ongoing.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[v-hope]

omg so maybe the way y/n would react when someone else flirts with jk and how he’d handle the situation? 🌺

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, established relationship, college au

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i don’t think i had ever written y/n being jealous before, it was always the boys somehow so this was fun! thank you so much for requesting! btw, this takes place on their last year of college.

Jeongguk had eyes for you only.

That was no surprise. You knew that. His friends knew that. Your friends new that. And pretty much everyone with eyes could see that was the case in a heartbeat. It had been that way ever since high school, and now that you had been together for a year and he had you all to himself, it was far from ever changing.

There were certain people, however, who did not know that was the case — strangers mostly, or classmates of his who did just not give a fuck about him having a girlfriend he was madly in love with.

The latter being the case that day.

The two of you had agreed on meeting at the library to get started on a project you had signed up as partners for, as it was pretty much a given by now. And although the library was not your favourite place to go to when it came to get done with college stuff, it was the only place the two of you would truly focus in, which would be much needed this time since you had to turn it in later the next day, yet were just now getting started on, as you had both been too busy with other exams and assignments to even think about this one.

So, he had headed over there as soon as his last class ended, going up to an empty table and taking a seat, wasting no time on leaving his backpack on the chair next to his for no one else to take it as he waited for you. Not like said act of his had been of any help, though, for a girl he recognized from one of his classes —one of the few you were not in with him— had reached his side in a matter of seconds, asking if he could help her out with something from that day’s lecture she had not quite understood, and removing his backpack from the seat he was saving for you; hanging it on the back of the chair as she took a seat next to him before he could even protest.

Biting his tongue as he did not want to sound rude, he decided to just help her out in the meantime you got there. It wouldn’t take that long anyway, would it?

Only it did, for you were taking longer than you should have, and she showed no signs of planning on leaving anytime soon as she didn’t even try to hide her ulterior motives with him — from time to time trying to turn the conversation into a non-academic one, yet having to stick to it as Jeongguk made it clear he was only carrying on with the conversation as long as it was about the class.

“You’re really good at explaining” she smiled brightly, looking up from her textbook and moving her seat closer to him, which only caused him to move his slightly back as he nodded — his awkwardness making an appearance as he did not know what to answer to that. “You think maybe we could go grab some coffee later so we can talk some more about the class?”

“I have a girlfriend” he was quick to go straight to the point, informing her what he knew for a fact she was well aware of, for it was not unusual for you to go wait outside that particular class for him to come out of, since it was right next to yours and you always seemed to be done before him — meeting him with a sweet peck on the lips every single time as everyone else came out of the classroom, her included. “And she’ll be here anytime now, so…”

His classmate had seemed to take a hint as he eyed the chair she was sitting down on, silently asking her to leave. Nevertheless, she did not stand up. “I could really use the help in this class, though…” she pushed it. “Maybe you could give me your number then?”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t be needing my boyfriend’s number” your voice had both of their heads snapping up in your direction, right as you set two coffee cups on the other side of the table and eyed both the girl next to him and the taken seat you knew was supposed to be yours. “Especially when it comes to something you can so easily ask your teacher about”.

Your cynical smile as you said those words and sat down in front of them, was all it took for the girl to send a glare your way before standing up, sweetly saying goodbye to a quite stunned Jeongguk and then taking off without even looking your way again.

Scoffing at her audacity, you shook your head, not even bothering to look at your boyfriend before you started taking your laptop out of your bag and placed it on the table.

“What took you so long?” he quietly wondered, feeling like he was tiptoeing when it came to finding the right words to say, given your displeased expression.

“Coffee run” you replied simply, staring at your laptop’s screen like your life depended on it as you turned it on.

He bit down on his bottom lip, not being able to ignore the tension in the air, yet having no idea what to do about it either.

It was funny, how before dating you he never had other people approaching him like this, yet now that he was in an established relationship, girls had apparently started to notice him out of a sudden. He was not used to it. He was not used to you being jealous. And although he knew it was not entirely his fault —since he had kept his distance from said girl— and a part of him couldn’t help but feel good about the fact that you were being jealous over him, another part of him did not feel quite as good, for he knew what you were feeling. He had been in your place multiple times when other guys flirted with you, after all, and although you turned down every single one of them, it was still upsetting all the same.

So, not knowing whether he should bring the topic up or not, he had his eyes going to the cups from your go-to coffee shop placed by your side. It was your guys’ usual, he could tell — an iced americano for you and hot chocolate for him.

“Is that one for me?” he pointed at the carton cup that was used for hot beverages.

That had seemed to catch your attention, eyes fixing on the cup he was pointing at and staring at it as you thought about it for a second. And although both of you knew the answer was positive, you shook your head no.

“Couldn’t decide, so I got both for me”.

Jeongguk couldn’t help but let an amused smile curve up the corners of his lips, knowing well enough that was your way of punishing him for letting another girl hit on him. “Oh, so you simultaneously went for a hot and an ice cold drink?”

“Mhm…” you nodded.

“Yah,” he called you out when you still wouldn’t look at him, reaching for your hands and holding them over the table. “Come sit next to me”.

“I’m good”.

“Come onnnn,” he whined with a small pout, pulling on your hands and leaving you no choice but to stand up and go over to him. “I was saving this seat for my favourite girl”.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he had cooed those words as you sat down next to him, biting on your bottom lip not to let him see, yet being too late as a smile of his own was already taking over his mouth at the sight of yours. Loosely wrapping one of his arms over your shoulders, he pulled you closer to him, laughing under his breath when you could no longer hide your smile after his lips had pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“I thought I was your only girl” you pushed it nevertheless, earning another chuckle from him.

“You are my only girl” he said the obvious. “Plus, my favourite person in the world. There’s nothing to be jealous about”.

You rolled your eyes, focusing them somewhere else as you snorted. “Wasn’t jealous” your bitter words told him otherwise. “She’s pretty, though…”

Jeongguk sighed, cupping your face in his hands and resting his forehead on yours. “I’ve had eyes for no one else but you ever since I first saw you in high school, petal. You know that” his thumbs drew tender circles on your cheeks. “I didn’t even look at her”.

“You didn’t turn her down when she asked for your number, though”.

“Did I even get the chance to?” he pointed out softly with a breathy laugh, bringing heat to your face as you were reminded of the fact you had answered for him the second the question had left that girl’s mouth. “I told her I got a girlfriend before you arrived, okay?” his mouth pressed a brief kiss to your nose. “Don’t be silly now, you know I love you”.

You smiled softly, nodding your head to let him know it was alright, and then giggling when the loving peck he had just pressed to your mouth was followed by another kiss — a much longer, slower one, as he tilted your head slightly back and sucked on your bottom lip.

“We’re in the library” you reminded him in a whisper, voice coming out muffled as you spoke against his lips.

“And you’re the only one I want” he cheesily answered, smiling at your amused reaction and pressing another kiss to your mouth before pulling away. “Now that we’ve established the facts, shall we get started on the project?”

Shaking your head in amusement, you reached for your laptop on the other side of the table and brought it up to you — then reaching for the carton cup as well and sliding it in front of him. “You’ve earned your lame hot chocolate, you sweet bastard”.

A light laugh escaped his mouth at what you had just called him, leaning in closer to you once again. “And a little smooch?” he puckered up his lips.

Getting a laugh out of you at the way he was picking up on the things you usually said, you couldn’t deny him of his petition, placing your hand behind his neck and pulling him towards you so you could press two chaste kisses to his smiling mouth.

“And an ‘I love you, bun’?” he pushed it.

“Yah,” you were the one to call him out this time with a small laugh. “All the attention has really boosted your confidence, hasn’t it?”

He giggled, saying nothing as he instead grabbed his cup and took a sip of the drink you had gotten him. You were right though, for the attention, love and praise you had given him for the past year had indeed helped one hell of a lot when it came to boosting his previous nonexistent confidence.

“Will you say it, though?”

Shaking your head no, you laughed under your breath and leaned closer to the table as you started typing down on your laptop instead. “I love you, bun”.

Although you had not even looked at him as you gave in —embarrasingly fast— and mumbled the words he had been waiting for, he smiled the brightest, knowing he had managed to lift your mood and gotten some love from you altogether.

Funny how you had came to the library so you could focus on the project, yet all he wanted and could think about right then was kissing you over and over — until the last bit of jealousy you had felt that day abandoned your body.

[fluffywolverine]

so season 6 of lucifer came out.

there were some things that i liked, but generally i hated it. i believe that was SUCH. BAD. WRITING and it left me frustrated. so i decided to write down all things that pissed me off and sometimes i try to fix this by giving other ideas that – in my opinion – would have made the story better. Check my points out and feel free to add your points of view. without further ado: let’s talk.

- imma start with the big one – fucking time travel. ok I generally hate this trope in the media, because it’s complicated and often leads to some logical mistakes – and they happened here. so rory time travels because of her anger which was caused… by her anger?? i think this was unnecessary. it also brings trouble with this whole free will vs. fate discourse. lucifer says, that he chooses free will… but at the same time he goes the path of his fate. he disappears from rory’s life, because he HAS TO in order of the events of the season to happen. just because he chose to do it, doesn’t mean it’s free will.

- lucifer becomes the very thing he desperately didn’t want to become. “bUt It WaS fOr ThE gReAtEr GoOd” screw this bullshit, if writers wanted to make it better, they could have easily do so. they could have altered the rules of time travel so that his choice of staying could have resulted in rory disappearing. yes, that would have been heart-breaking, but it would have been a great lesson for lucifer, that he can’t make the same mistakes his father did.

- chloe and Lucifer get a child without even talking about it. “bUt MaYbE tHeY tAlKeD aBoUt It We JuSt DiDn’T sEe It” you may say. but the point of writing anything  - whether it’s a book or a script – is to show any thing that matters. and talking about having kids is one of the most things any couple should do. also not every couple needs to have kids and forcing deckerstar to have it feels so far-fetched. this thread was very unnecessary.

- rory herself is a big problem. to begin with – she wanted to KILL her FATHER. i get her frustration, but commiting a murder?? just because he wasn’t there for her?? I would have thought that chloe taught her better, taught her that, like, killing people is bad. turns out she did not. secondly… she just isn’t necessary here. i elaborate later so in conclusion – her thread could be altered with michael’s and it would have made much more sense. i also don’t like the actress (why was she blinking so much??) so i certainly didn’t help.

- of course ella has to end up with a boyfriend. because earlier she always ended up with “bad boys” and now, without any help, she is just able to have a healthy relationship! yay! for me this creates a toxic view, that in order to be happy one HAS TO be in a relationship, because being alone is aLwAyS bAd. well, it’s not.

- i also have troubles with lucifer starting up a foundation for her. firstly, he didn’t ask her. secondly it – AGAIN – shows, that anything good ella got, was because of another man. firstly because of her relationship with carol, secondly because of lucifer’s idea. it could have been so easily altered! there could have been a scene of a conversation e.g. with amenadiel where she expressed a will to do better and be better for someone (given that she sees a lot of dark in herself). amenadiel could have then told her, that she is an inspiration and that it is her biggest strength. that could have been where ella came up with an idea to start a foundation blah blah – it’s just a rough idea but I believe that written well, it could have been so much better;

- and the last thing about ella – of course she had to find out about celestial stuff because sHe WaS tHe OnLy OnE rEmAiNiNg. umm what about trixie? i'll come back to her later. ella was portrayed as the only one believing in god and having her seeing that he really exists ruins the concept of faith. it’s not about knowing something exists, it’s about believing in it.

- WHERE THE FUCK IS MICHAEL. i must admit that i loved this character AND I CAN’T STAND HOW AWFULLY HE WAS TREATED HERE. so at the end of season 5 lucifer says “everyone deserves a second chance, even you michael". and what does he do then? COMMANDS HIS TWIN TO CLEAR THE FLOOR IN HELL. yes, i agree that michael should have been punished for his rebellion plan, but… he already has his wing cut off. now he’s stuck in hell, with no way out and is he supposed to learn his lesson? this is cruel. instead of this the entire season could have been centred on him – his journey to self-acceptance, learning how manipulating someone is toxic and starting to realise how to be a better person. at the end he could have become god (because amenadiel is such an obvious choice), which would create a beautiful connection – michael in heaven and his twin in hell.

- lucifer doesn’t feel like being god and that’s cool. damn. people died for him to win this place and he’s like “actually you know guys i’m not the right person bye”. while i believe that anyone should step out if they have a reason, but at the same time lucifer should have faced any consequences of his decisions. falling frog and kool aid in the river are not enough.

- adam’s plot feels just quickly sketched, not actually written. i really appreciate this take on toxic masculinity but it all felt too fast-paced. it’s good that they show this idea of “strong and not-showing-any-feelings man” kind of attitude, but it is impossible for ANYONE (especially The ManTM) to change their mind in a matter of a few days. it takes weeks, months, years even, especially given that adam is like a gazillion years old, he should have especially taken a long time to process this.

- carol is just too pure to exist. he’s also one of the most boring, plain and one-dimensional character i’ve ever seen. i feel like they gave him a problem with alcohol because the writers were like “hmmmmm he has to have some weakness. LET’S MAKE HIM AN ALCOHOLIC”. we don’t see any signs of his everyday struggle, why did he fell into this problem, how did struggle. it just feels like a dull plot device to show that he has flaws. oh and also he’s so pure that he doesn’t mind ella BREAKING INTO HIS HOUSE. acceptance should have boundaries and violating someone’s personal space isn’t right.

- why did they forget about trixie again? yes, i know that scarlett estevez had another project but this does not justify the bad writing. the girl lost her father and we only see her crying once because of that. no signs of this affecting her everyday life, not showing any consequences of her relationships with other people, not  glimpse of any change in her behaviour. oh and also she loses lucifer too because time travel! great idea, writers! losing another close to her person would have been soooooo good for her psychic for sure.

- i also hate the idea that suddenly rory becomes the only child they care for. where is trixie when they spend their day on the beach? where is she when her mother dies? did writers forget about her as well as they did about michael?

- amenadiel being a police officer is… problematic. i was looking forward to this thread, i was kinda scared too and it turned out… meh. i’m white and not American, so this of course does not involve me at all, but i felt like this was not enough. harris basically said that there is nothing they can do to make it better for black folks. even though chloe and amenadiel want to make everything more just, we don’t actually see any change. the only thing is that harris becomes a detective (right? i’m not sure if i understood it correctly, so correct me if i’m wrong, please) which is a total contradiction of what she said before. suddenly she does not have to protect people anymore?

- in season 5 they stated that heaven and hell need to be fixed, as the system is unfair and unjust. at the end we don’t see any change, the only thing that is different is lucifer helping damned souls. it doesn’t help at all! these people still go to hell, they still suffer and there’s nothing that changed here! plus there is also this thing, that a sociopath who murdered people in cold blood goes to heaven (because he does not feel any guilt) and a person abused by her parents/partner/whoever goes to hell (because have been manipulated to feel guilt).

- dan making amends with trixie while… there wasn’t really anything to make amends about. like, most of the parents make mistakes while upbringing their children, but does this make them unworthy of heaven? i would have preferred dan to slowly regain his self-consciousness, how he positively affected the lives of people around him and by doing so – through conversations or maybe reliving some of the memories, he could have proved to himself that he is worthy of love and redemption.

phew, what a ride. i really liked dan being reunited with charlotte (it went just as i imagined) and mazeve dynamics. i even felt like they are finally a real life relationship – with people hurting each other by not understanding each other, but then talking and seeing other’s perspective. generally though, i’m very disappointed.

sorry for any mistakes, lacking commas etc. writing a text this long in not my native language was not easy.

[earthstellar]

Transformers Analysis: Folklore and Folk Magic in the Mines of Kaon

thinking about Miner Megatron again, as always. here we goooo 

So I've been doing some folk magic, as I usually do, and it got me thinking:

Surely, the lower class/caste bots wouldn’t feel welcomed into the more organised Cybertronian temples etc., or might even be outright banned from joining in shared spiritual spaces or rituals. 

So it’s time to teach y’all some working class magic history and how we can apply that to Cybertronian spirituality: 

Working Class History: Casting Spells on the Job (Just Call it Prayer so the Boss Doesn't Find Out)

Here's a quick history of rural Appalachian folk magic, for some context:

1) The Christian Bible has been used for spellcasting all up and down the rural East Coast in the USA from day one of colonisation.

In Pennsylvania you have Hexenmeisters and the Pennsylvania Dutch practices, for a well-documented example.

2) The working class has done spellcasting with the Bible from the very first day shitty bosses started

This is for several reasons, but primarily because Bibles were common and cheap, you didn't have to know how to read in order to follow along with or change the lyrics of popular hymns and prayers to fit your own needs, and it was very easy to sneak what is essentially localised witchcraft under the radar when it just looks like you're reading the Bible to everyone else.

Catholic materials were used a lot for this, because they were often provided for free by any local churches, and a lot of working class people in Appalachia were Italian (Roman Catholic) or Eastern European (Eastern Orthodox Catholic), which meant there was no shortage of all sorts of votive candles and the like to utilise for what we would now identify as spellcasting.

It's important to note that it wasn't called spellcasting outright by anybody; Sometimes it was called "hexing" or "sweet talking", among other terms, but if you called it spellcasting it was heavily frowned upon.

A lot of people were uncomfortable (and are still uncomfortable) with verbalising it or identifying it as such due to stigma from the more mainstream religious communities or their own religious backgrounds, and of course, historically if the boss found out that all the workers hated their jobs so much they were doing fucking witchcraft about it, it would not have ended well for the workers.

So, stealth it is. And that's why there are so many specific folk practices in a lot of historically working class rural regions/communities-- Not just in Appalachia, but similar things happen in similar communities around the world.

What does this have to do with Megatron?

Everything we know about the lower classes on Cybertron, the lower caste members, and the mines/industrial regions in Tarn and Kaon suggest that a similar folklore likely existed within these working communities.

And any local folk practices likely developed for the exact same reasons that this type of folk practice developed in the real world:

Workers are fucking miserable, "mainstream" religion isn't satisfying their spiritual/emotional/social/material needs or concerns, and close-knit people in small communities spending most of their time together naturally start to sort of do their own thing based on their collective situation.

People get desperate, there's nowhere to turn and nothing to do, so spirituality becomes a lifeline in that it builds solidarity and creates a more appropriate sort of support system.

For example: If we aren't allowed time off work to mourn our friend who was killed by heavy machinery, and we aren't allowed any time to process that or deal with it or take care of each other, then we will invent a ritual that allows us to grieve on the job.

This was, and still is, a common thing.

Which brings us to...

St. Barbara and the Mines + Solus Prime

St. Barbara's backstory can be summarised, roughly, as such (based on the version of this story that I know; keep in mind the details can vary):

She was kept isolated from others by her father, who became furious that she refused an arranged marriage. When she fled, he chased her; She ran into two people working in a field, the first who helped her, and the second who gave her path away to her father.

She was captured, and brought to a prominent local figure (the title varies based on different versions of this story), who had her tortured for escaping and disobeying her father.

However, when imprisoned, they tried to kill her again and again, and every morning she was healed. Fire intended to be used to burn her would cool the second it got near her skin, and daggers used to cut her would go dull when brought near her.

Snakes thrown into her room intended to bite her would then die the instant they went to approach her, and ropes intended to be used to bind and choke her would spontaneously fray and snap before they could be tied.

Eventually, she was condemned to beheading, and a special sword was used to cut her head off, which finally killed her.

Her father is the one who beheaded her, and as divine punishment, he was hit by lightning-- A single bolt that lasted so long that his entire body went up into flames, and his ashes disappeared.

Her gravesite became a place of veneration, where people prayed for protection and safety.

She became known as the patron saint of all people with dangerous jobs or jobs where the bosses don't care about the worker's wellbeing or safety, for obvious reasons: Nothing but the hands of her own father could ever harm her.  

(The imagery of St. Barbara being slain only by a special sword is very reminiscent of Solus Prime being slain only by a special sword...)

Workers, especially those with particularly dangerous or shitty jobs but also just anyone working class in general, can interpret this story in several ways which can make it additionally relatable:

Her father = A controlling and aggressive boss who abuses or neglects their workers to death.

The field workers = A pro-union worker (a helper) and an anti-union worker or scab (a betrayer).

So you can see how St. Barbara became immediately adopted as a common worker's saint, and was used in a lot of regional working class folk magic practices (where such folk magic developed within local working communities).

And this is still going strong as a tradition; Crossrail tunnel borers in London consecrated the drilling site in the name of St. Barbara in 2013:

"Several hundred contractors and senior management attended the St Barbara's Day ceremony at the Thames Tunnel (pictured) which will link Plumstead and North Woolwich when completed. The site was so large, that sound engineers put in place an amplification system for the ceremony." - Article here. 

"As a long-standing tradition, one of the first tasks for each new tunnelling projects is to establish a small shrine to Santa Barbara at the tunnel portal or at the underground junction into long tunnel headings. This is often followed with a dedication and an invocation to Santa Barbara for protection of all who work on the project during the construction period." - Article here. 

And here's a related example of a worker's prayer for St. Barbara, from here: 

So this is very much a tradition that is still going strong, and it isn't just Catholic workers who engage with these types of things!

To accommodate more diverse groups and communities of workers, folk practices (including what eventually becomes folk magic) increasingly develop even further away from any one specific religious origin, in order to become more inclusive for the majority of people who can be from all kinds of different spiritual or cultural backgrounds.

Hence, more folk magic is made-- And I believe something like this could absolutely have evolved in a similar way in working communities on Cybertron.

Cybertronian Spirituality: The Primes, The Knights, The Titans

My personal theory/headcanon, and there is not much in canon to support this particularly so please keep that in mind, is that given the average type of manual labour working environment in Tarn and Kaon (dangerous, dark, and deep), it would make sense for the legendary Titans to become worked into some kind of folk practice.

We have this concept of the Titans as these giant and very particular beings, which reminds me somewhat of the Jewish Golem of Prague, in that the Titans are made from raw materials in some kind of mystical or cosmically spiritual manner, then eventually ally themselves to at least one respective Prime who then acts as a director of their actions to achieve victory over cosmic evil(s).

The Titans then go forward and act as guardians of Cybertronian life by combating the origins of these cosmic evil(s) as protectors of their respective polities and regions and eventually colony worlds, called into action by what is essentially a metaphysical and possibly outright spiritual pull of the need of their Prime(s) and later on the needs of the Cybertronian and colony world populations in times of threat or desperation.

These details are peppered throughout canon and vary based on media/franchise, but most recently Titan lore was covered again in IDW’s Optimus Prime series, issue 10, literally titled Origin Myths. 

What is interesting is that while the Golem association could be reasonably made, you could also reasonably say that the Three Original Titans (Metroplex, Chela, and Metrotitan) could be associated just as easily with the Catholic concept of the Holy Trinity. 

Lots of different interpretations could be applied to this stuff!

Class Stratification Within Cybertronian Religious Institutions

No matter how you may interpret it, we know that the Titans have a similar mystical presence in Cybertronian history and cultural lore to that of the Primes and Knights, and it would make sense for those spurned and disparaged by "mainstream" spiritual practices (which were likely just as stratified by class and caste as everything else was on Cybertron during Megatron's youth) to go ahead and create a folk practice based more around Titans.

This is because the Primes would like be associated directly with their oppressive rulers and upper classes, and the Knights, who are said to be the first Cybertronians to come from the Well, thusly represent a very high class onto their own which may have repelled working class bots who were very likely sick of essentially worshipping those venerated in their class stratified society solely due to the conditions of their creation; The Knights were "born with silver spoons", essentially, and it's hard to sell that to people who suffered due to the conditions of their own creation.

Therefore, the Titans are the other most likely Cybertronian figures of historical lore that could reasonably be adapted into a sort of folk religion for the working classes and lower social caste bots.

The imagery is strong, and relatable: In Megatron's case, the manual labourers and miners all have large frames compared to the average Cybertronian, they all toil invisibly and in relative silence, and they are kept away from the end products of their labour and yet without them, Cybertron planet wide would instantly struggle to sustain their raw material demands. 

They are critical workers, yet many of them have no names/designations; It is noted at least once in canon that some Titans are so old or so little known that their designations are not recorded. Yet without these unseen/unknown Titans, it could be the case that cosmic evil could have achieved victory.

While the Titans are critical, they are largely a mystery and unknown in any real detail. They do not normally engage with average Cybertronians, and when they do, it is usually indirectly-- Even though their actions actively impact the lives of nearly everyone.

And though the Primes and Knights are generally never physically present, at least not within living memory, there is real and physical proof of Titans. I feel like that aspect alone may well appeal more to people who are very physically oriented; We also see a stark realist mentality from many of the lower class/caste bots, who are sometimes realistic to the point of nihilism (which is part of why Megatron's writings were so revolutionary, in that they re-introduced hope to people who had previously concluded that there was no realistic possibility of ever rising up).

The Titans being a known, tangible physical reality may well have endeared them as a more interesting folkloric or spiritual focus to this particular cohort of bots.

Just like with St. Barbara in real life, you can see how the Titans may have been interpreted in certain ways by the lower class/caste working bots which may have made them more appealing or more easy to structure into a framework of sorts for their own practices within their local cultures.

A Little Meta: There's a Lot of Various Religious Imagery in Transformers

Like with all media, especially Western media, inevitably some Jesus sneaks in there.

Which usually sucks, because it can be alienating for literally anyone who isn't familiar with Christianity in some way (as some references or parallels are inevitably not going to be as obvious or even detectable at all to people who didn't grow up with all this sometimes very specific shit, resulting in missed thematic elements and so on due to no fault of the viewers but rather the tendency for Western shows to overwhelmingly be written and designed by primarily Western white middle aged cis straight men who tend to throw some Jesus in there when there should not necessarily be any Jesus in there, but I could yell about this all night).

Transformers as a franchise altogether is not immune to this; As with all media, it is made by people, and people are influenced by their social/cultural upbringing, and that includes religious influences.

We could read some of this into the TFP/Aligned Continuity, in regards to the idea of the Thirteen Primes and how that concept is interpreted in TFP.

Transformers Prime: Alpha Trion is Essentially Paul the Apostle

The TFP Primes resemble both the Apostles as well as various Saints, and especially the Fourteen Holy Helpers; These fourteen Saints in particular are elevated above the others in many cases and contexts-- Similar to how the Primes are held up as elevated over other Cybertronians and other figures in Cybertronian history and presumably within certain Cybertronian spiritual practices as well. 

For example, Alpha Trion is strongly reminiscent of the Christian figure Paul the Apostle, who was a writer/scribe known for documenting early Christian concerns of faith in his letters, which became extremely important to theological historians in regards to determining early Christian discourse and attempting to create a timeline of early Christianity.

His letters are included the New Testament in thirteen (!) sections called epistles, which are archived forever in various iterations within the Christian Bible. 

Now, let’s take a look at the symbolism, using the TFP main illustration of Alpha Trion as featured in the Covenant, and a popular Icon image of Paul the Apostle: 

Beard, cloak, book-- Even the pose they are in here is very similar, look at the feet and the way they are both standing. Even the halo of Cybertronian glyphs around Alpha Trion’s head resembles the gold filament of Paul’s halo. 

And much like Alpha Trion's questionable ability to write/re-write history and determine events through some kind of cosmically divine power of foresight, the timeline of Paul's letters will likely never be fully verifiable, and of course, there are so many translations and interpretations of these letters along with the rest of the New Testament that while key points remain fairly consistent, there is still no "true" version or exact outline of events or discussions as recorded by Paul-- Primarily because in at least a few cases, Paul's letters are the only allusion to certain events or conversations.

This is extremely similar to how Alpha Trion states outright in the Covenant that he himself doesn't know if what he writes is actually factual anymore, or if he has changed things so many times to try to construct a more favourable narrative of actions and events that reality itself may have been warped by his Quill, either forwards or backwards in time...

You could also argue that Alpha Trion is presented as a God-like figure in TFP (especially when he appears to Optimus in the form of an echoing voice and shimmering spectral figure in a vision caused by what is essentially the equivalent of a holy relic), and Orion Pax would then be comparable to Jesus pre-Crucifixion, with his reformatting into Optimus Prime post-Matrix heavily resembling Jesus in the eyes of his followers post-Resurrection.

The main cast of Autobots in this comparison would then roughly correspond to the Apostles, of whom there were twelve, with Optimus then making Thirteen... And of course, canonically, Optimus is the resurrection of the Thirteenth Prime. 

You can also see visual similarities in the depiction of Thirteen in the Covenant; It reminds me heavily of the Divine Mercy image of Jesus: 

Both have their right hands raised, their chests emitting a holy/cosmic light. 

I'm just saying, it is totally possible to make connections between fictional lore/spiritual figures and real world ones, and TF is loaded with content that can be re-contextualised in this way. 

(I also want to point out at this time that it is not my intention to offend anyone with any of this analysis; I am writing from the point of view of someone who grew up with folk spirituality, and I am also a Quaker Attender, just so you are aware of my own personal background. I would love to hear any other interpretations of any spiritual imagery in Transformers media, because there’s a ton of possible ways to read into this stuff!) 

In Conclusion: Cast a Hex on Your Boss by Calling Upon the Titans

Just for fun, as someone who has actually done folk magic for my entire life, I've adapted a hex against bad bosses to fit this headcanon. I think this is something that lower class/caste bots would absolutely engage in; It's common in real life as well.

The original I'm basing this off of was actually something I found in one of our old family Bibles before I moved out, and was written in Girard, Pennsylvania sometime between 1920-1930. I believe it was written by a relative of mine who worked either on the farm or on the railways.

Remember that folk magic like this is for and by working class people, so there are no fancy supplies needed; Don't ever buy shit to do magic, you can do it with anything laying around you. No need to spend money.

If you have a shitty boss, please let me know if you hex your boss with this. I always encourage witchcraft, fictional or otherwise.

Here's what you do, if you want to actually try this:

1) Using any old paper that you have lying around, cut it roughly into a square (doesn't need to be perfect.) It doesn't matter what type of paper it is.

2) Grab any pen you like, it can be any type of pen, any type of ink.

3) Draw a square outline on the paper, making a border on the page. This can be big or small as you like, and you can decorate it if you want; Just leave enough space to write inside the square.

4) Fold this paper into a square, any way you'd like as long as it's a square, and take this paper while it's still blank to work in your pocket.

Carry the paper with you for at least one full day at work. If you can, place it in a chest pocket or a pocket where the paper will be fairly close to your body.

It doesn't matter if the paper gets dirty or smudged or torn; In fact, that's even better.

(Some people who do variations of this spell in real life even use the paper to wipe dirt off their hands etc. throughout the day, to really get the energy of a work day settled into the paper. As long as it can still be written on, you can do this if you'd like.)

5) At the end of the work day, take the paper out, and write the following:

Where I have put [X], the word "Lord" was in the original version of this hex which was in my family Bible, but to contextualise it within the fictional headcanon lore here, you can replace this with the word "Titan". (Or you can replace it with anything else that may be appropriate as well, if you would like to actually use this hex!)

"Give us pay for our work, or the poor will plea to the [X] against you, and you will be struck down, cast down.  

If you do not give to those who give to you, you will be cursed coming in, and going out.

Just as the [X] can raise you up and lead you to prosper, so too can the [X] turn away from you, and you will be left to have your walls destroyed, your fortress ruined.

Us servants will rejoice, but you will cry out in anguish, you will be put to shame.

Without the toilers, the land is made desolate, the haunt of jackals.

[X], turn your gaze to us, we labourers of all kinds, see our tears and our sweat.

Lay curses upon those who use their hands to hold us down; Kept below water, our tears lost in the flood.

Raise the waters, and surge the shores of their ill-owned kingdom; Bring forth to their memory that the [X] stewards the land, and that all among the land are equal in spirit.

The [X] will cast fury upon the unrighteous and conniving, cast rage and stand among us mightily, each motion casting winds against the oppressor who weakens like fractured stone under the onslaught of rain.

The [X] will make a storm from our anguish, which brings us higher, raises us from desolation. Our tears, become the rain that withers the false tower looming high above us.

Our hands will raise from our tools and duties, and offer high praise to the [X], who guards the disparaged and lowly, who enacts justice against those who have done wrong against us.

Let us be brought high, and those who revel in our struggle, may they be cast down."

6) You may flip the paper over once the ink is dry, and on the back, put three Xs in the upper corners of the paper. You may also add three more XXXs to the centre of the paper, where the crease in the paper is from folding it.

7) Re-fold the paper, and put it in the bottom of your right shoe. If this is too uncomfortable, carry it in any pocket on your right side.

You can also place it in your wallet for safe keeping, as your wallet contains money and possibly a work ID or something similar, which are all tied to work and working.

And there you have it! Fuck shitty bosses, both fictional ones and real ones. Join a union, do some witchcraft. 

This post was long as always, but I hope it's interesting to someone out there! <3 Thank you to anyone who actually reads through all of this! <3

[gthreepio]

i’ve been thinking about the future of the mcu and realized there’s a LOT that i didn’t know/didn’t remember in terms of where things are going so i figured i’d sum it up incase anyone else was in the same boat!! 

quick recap of (unresolved) mid-credit scenes:

doctor strange: mordo (a sorcerer that is one of strange’s mentors, who by the end of the movie becomes disillusioned with magic/the ancient one and quits) confronts pangborn (the paraplegic who healed himself with the mystic arts, who tells strange about mystic arts in the first place) and steals his magic because according to mordo, there are “too many sorcerers." of note, this guy is typically a villain in the comics but hasn’t been thus far...

gotg2: ayesha (leader of the sovereign, a golden skinned alien race obsessed with genetic purity), after spending most of the movie chasing the guardians for stealing some stuff, is revealed to have created an artificial being named “adam” which is presumably, adam warlock. (other stuff that is less relevant: kraglin appears to take up yondu’s mantle; the ravagers regroup and several old and obscure comic book characters are introduced [charlie-27, aleta, martinex, mainframe]; the watchers are watching things.) 

far from home: j jonah jameson basically tells the whole world spider-man’s secret identity, and frames him for what happened with mysterio....making him public enemy #1. ALSO, turns out nick fury and maria hill in the movie were ACTUALLY the two skrulls from captain marvel (talos and soren) attempting to do their job, while the real fury (and presumably hill) is ... up in space on some spaceship!!!

wandavision: monica (who we can assume is photon) is called by “an old friend of [her] mother’s,” up in space, which presumably means fury, talos, or carol. ALSO, wanda sits in the middle of nowhere reading the darkhold and hears the voices of her children who.. by all accounts, should not exist. 

aaaaand what we know about future movies (i’m not even going into the tv series.....): 

black widow: 

takes place after civil war

nat confronts a “dangerous conspiracy with ties to her past,” likely has to do with taskmaster who has apparently taken over the red room where nat was trained as an assassin

prominent new characters: yelena belova, who will take over the mantle of black widow after this; alexei shostakov aka red guardian, an ollllld marvel hero analogous to captain america except for the soviet union.

tony stark will make an appearance... SOBS

shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings:

shang-chi has never been seen in the mcu before, but he is, essentially, a superhero that is a master martial artist, and in some adaptations can also create duplicate (fake) versions of himself to confuse opponents

main villain will be the the mandarin who we have *sort of* seen before... he is the leader of a terrorist organization called “ten rings” whose main goal is to destroy world peace. brief history -- in iron man 1: one ten rings cell kidnaps tony stark and tries to force him to make weapons (he of course, makes his suit instead). stark and ten rings become enemies and fight a bunch. nat and nick fury fight them too. in iron man 3, the villain aldrich killian hires a dude to pretend to be the mandarin and claim responsibility for a bunch of stuff, but its not the ten rings or the mandarin at all. this makes the mandarin v mad and he has a dude kidnap the faker to punish him. they also briefly show up in ant-man, when a ten rings agent tries to buy the yellowjacket suit that darren cross is selling. BUT IN SHANG-CHI....... looks like we are FINALLY going to see the real mandarin after over a decade!! 

the villain razor fist will also show up, he is lesser known... he has no superhuman powers but he has surgically replaced his hands (1 or 2, depending on the version) with a steel blade, and is highly skilled at hand to hand combat.

besides the presence of these characters, the only bit of plot we know is “shang-chi is drawn into the ten rings organization and forced to confront his past.” so... yeah. we don’t know much at all.

eternals: 

quick explanation: the eternals are an immortal alien race who have been secretly living on earth for thousands of years. they were created by the celestials, who are most prominently in gotg2. 

more entirely new characters!!! their names are: thena, who can form any weapon out of cosmic energy; gilgamesh, who can make a super strong exoskeleton out of cosmic energy; ikaris, who has superhuman strength, flies, and can project cosmic energy out his eyes; kingo, who can shoot cosmic energy projectiles from his hands; makkari, who creates sonic booms, has super speed, and is deaf; phastos, who has enhanced intelligence, and is also gay (and married with a kid!); ajak, who has healing powers; sprite, who can project illusions; sersi, who can manipulate matter; druig, who can mind control; and dane whitman (black knight), a human with a mystical sword. 

regarding the plot... it seems the eternals have kind of dispersed, but have to come together again to fight the deviants, who are their “evil counterparts” (also created by the celestials, though i’m unclear on why). thena and gilgamesh have apparently been in exile, unclear why; sersi, who is posing as a museum curator, has apparently been in love with ikaris for centuries and it seems as if their love story may be central to the film; and kingo is a bollywood film star in his spare time. aaaaand that’s pretty much all we know.

directed by chloé zhao of nomadland fame! 

spider-man no way home: 

based on the post-credits scene in far from home, peter parker will now be known as spider-man to everyone. unclear if he’s going to be seen as a bad guy due to mysterio framing him, but i guess we’ll see! 

jamie foxx is electro, and alfred molina is doctor octopus; which is VERY interesting considering they played these roles in other spider-man franchises, once again stirring up excitement for possible multiverse. 

there have been *multiple* reports that andrew garfield, kirsten dunst, tobey maguire, and emma stone will be in the movie but tom holland has repeatedly denied this... so... who knows. 

there are also rumors that matt murdock / daredevil (from netflix) will be in several scenes! not confirmed though. 

MJ is still his girlfriend and i hope it stays that way!! 

doctor strange will be featured in the movie, taking on the mentor role now that tony stark is gone :( this will be interesting as i.. haven’t really seen them interact much before. because of this inclusion some people speculate that the film may draw inspo from some comic storylines where peter’s secret identity is restored with magic. 

doctor strange in the multiverse of madness: 

scarlet witch is essentially co-starring!!! it’s going to be really interesting to see if they bring vision or the twins into this at all, though i’m not counting on it. 

seems like mordo will be the main villain -- recall the ds1 post credits scene where he is apparently running around trying to steal people’s magic.

america chavez will make her debut!!!!!! i have no idea how this plays into anything but i am so excited!! 

regarding the plot, all we really know is that strange has been researching the time stone, mordo messes with him, and this results in him accidentally unleashing “unspeakable evil.” presumably there will also be heavy involvement of the multiverse, and who knows what kind of craziness that will bring!! 

initially was going to be directed by scott derrickson who did ds1; however he stepped down to being just EP due to “creative differences.” i am presuming this is because derrickson really wanted to make this more gothic and horror than disney was comfortable with. i REALLY hope they keep some of those elements though and don’t erase the idea entirely! anyway, it will be directed by sam raimi now (of evil dead and spiderman 2002 fame). 

the film also reportedly ties in with the loki series (will loki show up!?) and spiderman 3 (which is obvious enough, given that strange is in that movie and those curious electro and doctor octopus castings...)

thor: love and thunder

directed by taika waititi again, hell yeah!!! and he has stated, the film will be “so over the top now in the very best way" and would make ragnarok look like a "run of the mill, very safe film" .... so.... oh god

so many great returning players!!! including.... valkyrie (now the king of new asgard), jane foster, lady sif, korg, star-lord, mantis, drax, nebula, and kraglin (takes up yondu’s mantle after he dies in gotg2)

in this movie, thor isn’t thor anymore.... it’s JANE!!! she gets cancer :( and is undergoing treatment while simultaneously being thor. i’m a little nervous how this will be handled, but i’m excited. (it’s based off an amazing comic series by jason aaron) 

the big bad: gorr the god butcher, played by christian bale! the gist of it is, this dude HATES gods because nobody helped when his family was dying and in need. his weapon is “all-black the necrosword,” forged from the head of a celestial, and allows the user to create wings and fly at extreme speeds. honestly, he sounds cool as fuck. 

valkyrie is going to be made canonically bisexual!!! 

it will explore more of korg’s backstory, and also include... space sharks!?!?! an alien race from the comics.

taika has called the script “very romantic” so take that as you will 

black panther 2

will again be directed by ryan coogler

not much is known at this point, does not have an official name

t’challa will NOT be recast (which i’m happy about) so..... honestly no idea what to expect for this one. i think we can probably expect shuri to have an expanded role. all we know so far is they will be “exploring the world of wakanda.” not clear to me how this is different from the upcoming wakanda D+ series. 

tenoch huerta has reportedly been cast as a villain, but no one has any idea who. there’s also rumors that donald glover is in “informal talks” to play a role. note all of this is unconfirmed.

captain marvel 2

will be directed by nia da costa (candyman!) and written by megan mcdonnell, who is one of wandavision’s best writers! 

will take place in the present day 

will feature kamala khan / ms. marvel, monica rambeau / photon!!! this will be so interesting.... kamala is a huge fan of carol’s in the comics, she is her mentor/idol. the ms. marvel series will also resportedly lead into cm2. and monica, well, monica knew her when she was a little kid. wandavision implies that there’s some bad blood between carol and monica though, not sure why. maybe because carol left and never came back? (until endgame) 

post-credits scene of wandavision appears to tie into this, having monica go up into space at the reqeust of her “mom’s old friend.” again, not clear who that is. this could also be a tie in to secret invasion though, so we’ll see. or both.

zawe ashton has been cast as an unknown villain... a lot of people are actually speculating that she may play rogue? which would be fascinating, as there’s a comic arc where rogue steals her powers and memories. BUT there’s still no confirmation that X-men exist in the MCU so for now i remain skeptical.

they are looking to cast a ‘john boyega’ or ‘michael b jordan’ type which makes me wonder if they are going to create a new character, a “younger” war machine to be her love interest? (note: carol and rhodey are a huge thing in comics!) carol obviously does not look her age but her and don cheadle.... that just doesn’t work. which is why i wonder.

ant-man and the wasp: quantumania 

in addition to scott and hope, pretty much all the major players are returning including: luis, hank pym, janet van dyne

cassie lang has been recast with an actress 5 years older, which is really making me wonder if they are going to make her stinger in this movie! (aka one of the main young avengers)

the villain: kang the conqueror! this dude time travels. original name nate richards. in the comics, kang travels back in time to rescue his younger self (nate) from an attack that would help shape him towards a life of villainy. kang also gives him some fancy armor. his younger self actually is like, what the fuck dude? and renounces his destiny, becoming a hero. and he makes his armor look like iron man, calling himself iron lad. who is a young avenger. which also makes me wonder about cassie lang.

otherwise not much is known! 

guardians of the galaxy vol. 3

james gunn is returning, i’m mixed about this...he really does *get* the guardians though. 

based on the gotg2 post credits scene, i think we can assume adam warlock will be a HUGE part of this. there are multiple versions of him, some villainous and some heroic, but no idea how this is gonna turn out.

no word yet on whether thor will be involved, or if those ravagers they introduced will be involved. 

fantastic four 

will be directed by the spiderman guy, john watts.

otherwise we know literally nothing.

aaaaand that’s the roundup! 

[1oserjk]

— full stop | still good without luck

when life was becoming a bit steadier

+ here is a clearer puzzle piece of oc n jk’s backstory :D

word count: 2.4k

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

Three years after he finally landed a solid grip on the shop and enough money came in to pay back the bills including the newly bought house and his studio, is when he came barreling in your shared bedroom door with a complicated-looking bouquet in his hand.

Your first instinctive reaction was to recoil and question the cheesy gesture.

“Oh god. What’s this?” You stupidly pointed—poked towards the obvious. They were very living, giving them a long appreciative look knowing in a matter of days they would wither and fall off if you didn’t snip the stems and soak them in water soon enough. 

“Flowers, obviously. For you.”

You reluctantly took them into your arms, listening intently to the way the thin plastic rubbed against your bare skin.

You wondered if he would be okay with you picking off the petals of some of the white flowers to set out in the sun for a day, before soaking them in oil to preserve the fragrance.

Stupid crafts like that always made you happy. He knew that.

“It’s a pretty pairing,” you honestly said, staring at the stark contrast between the white and the slightly familiar dirty orange. You think you’ve seen it in one of the pages of your A-Z Of Perennials book your mother gifted you last summer.

“They’re your favorite,” he explained as if it was a fact you never knew about yourself.

You nodded. “They are.”

He took a slight breath in before fully releasing to say, “And this lily is my birth flower.” He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks to stop himself from anxiously fidgeting. You thought it was cute. “I’m personally fond of the meaning of them.”

You smiled. “And what exactly could that meaning be?”

“Please—“ his eyes set out for yours when he finished, “—love me.”

The message you received through each petal achingly clear: that Jeon Jungkook was a man made solely for you and nobody else. Somebody so incredibly needy in only the best ways possible, eager to hand you the world — that was your husband and the father of your child.

“Corny, huh,” he attempted to brush off, but you saw right through his prideful facade, the tint to his cheeks lacking in help for the man standing right in front of you.

Jungkook was always the type to go soft at the romanticization of things, as if you were watching a Studio Ghibli film right at the center of his dark-colored orbs, the projection of the simplicity of all things beautiful. It was a solid contrast to your realist characteristic you held, but being with Jungkook all those years only made it easier to fall back and dream for a bit with him.

You carefully set the flowers down on the dresser beside you to wrap your arms around him, his eyes being the easiest thing to fully immerse yourself into.

“Not at all,” you said, shaking your head, “I think they fit you well.”

He hummed, hands easily finding the curve of your hips and landing them firmly atop the thin layer of your dress. He was automatically up to no good when his lips had quirked to one side and his eyes flashed a gleam for a millisecond. “Being pretty?”

You hit at his arm, leaning your head closer to his until your noses met and intuitively slotted at just the right angle. “No,” you lead, lips brushing at the single syllable, “being needy.”

He scrunched his and pulled away from your lips as a form of punishment. Eyes set on the prize, so driven for the one thing you find yourself craving the past week, standing on the tips of your toes and eagerly reaching for a kiss.

He scoffed quietly, putting up a false front. He gave it to you easily and without even a fight, “I’m the needy one? Look who’s kissing me.”

“Please,” you reasoned and puckered up for another, “This is me showing my appreciation and affection for the flowers. Really, thank you.”

He dug his face into your neck and traced the bare skin of your back with the tip of each of his slender fingers. He said something quietly about liking that particular dress on you, his fingers playing along with the open slit to emphasize his appreciation. You shivered slightly from the contact and leaned most of your weight against him to compensate for your legs suddenly weakening.

“I’m glad you liked them,” he murmured into your skin, leaving goosebumps against the rest. “I thought it would be a nice addition to our date night.”

“Speaking of,” you began to mutter at the reminder, “It’s been so long since we’ve had a decent amount of time alone. I was surprised you were free this weekend.”

“Sorry,” he sheepishly said, “As much as I trust those two back at the shop — I don’t. But, they told me I at least needed a small break and that they would take care of interviewing for our receptionist position over the weekend.”

Your head tilted curiously to ponder, “You’re still looking for someone?”

He solemnly nodded.

“Then I might just quit and apply at yours,” you teasingly smirked, “Sounds kind of fun.”

He groans. “As much as that would go appreciated..” His hands suddenly drift down to roam your ass and hips, giving it a solid pinch to make you yelp out loud. The corner of his lips quirked. “I don’t think your mother will appreciate you wasting a degree like that. And to be honest? I don’t think I’d get much work done if you were working under me either.”

“Why not?” You didn’t exactly have the opportunity to be as creative as he was, to interact with new people, and share art the way he did. You were organized and clean though. “I’ve had to take a leave at work to focus on Yeona while you were kept busy with the shop, I want to get back to working again. Want to spend more time with you..”

He landed a solid kiss on the edge of your temple and sighed. “Baby, I promise that once business gains momentum without me having to be there, I’ll take some more time off. I feel better that you’re with our daughter for now.”

Your mouth formed to a downturn. “What about you? Jungkook, she needs her own father.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you, a thousand of unspoken words floated in between. Yours surrounded him with question marks.

“Do you really want to start that tonight?” He asked, tiredness stirring in his eyes.

You blinked in slight pain before erasing it completely away from his view to read it as anything more and mustered a weak smile. Your hands fidgetted but stick to simply smoothing out the lines of his dress coat.

The bite on your tongue is harsh and punishing.

“Okay,” you answered, a mustered smile easily stretched out, “Fine.”

You wondered how much longer you both would suppress the looming subject until the next argument would find its way back into conversation again.

You stepped out of his hold and observed him from a distance. His expression is given with the way he held back the same as you.

You didn’t push it for the sake of that night.

With your back turned, you grabbed for your purse and handed him a smile before offering your hand. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

You’ve encased his hand into your hold at the beginning of the drive, probably slightly dangerous to do but a foolish and selfish habit you had when it came to him. He doesn’t mind when they folded in between the warmth of your thighs, anyway. His driving skills were well off enough to stay stable and to occasionally run his thumb against your skin whenever he pleased.

Just feeling the span of where your short dress had risen had him stirring in his pants and already questioning, “When was the last time we had sex?”

You didn’t flinch at the abrupt question, humming to think. “Maybe about—a week ago?”

His eyes widened. “Fuck, really?”

You nodded. “Your perception of time has always been fucked..” Sitting up, you pinned him a stare, “Come on, you really don’t remember?”

Mindless sex was one of the many ways he would vow out his apology after all. He spelled out his sorry by drawing out an orgasm after orgasm. 

“No, no, I do,” he answered, “I just—didn’t expect it to be that long ago.”

Your mind begged to comment out that it was his fault for always being so damn busy.

“Okay,” he said, arm extended out, having it be enough of your fidgeting and sudden silence, “Come here and hold my hand again.”

It’s his cluelessness to note the way you felt that frustrated you the most — maybe it was just your fault for not properly voicing it out.

“Let’s not think about the last time and look forward to tonight, yeah?” You bit at a remark, reluctantly obliging, only quickly regretting it when his long fingers flexed, unattainable to let go of the raw thoughts that clumped into your head right after. Cheeky bastard. You gripped them tightly to make him hiss out, rubbing the stupid initials of yours on the back of his hand a second later.

He went on with the conversation about some big time client who was willing to spend a fuck ton of money for him to ink his whole entire back. You weren’t too surprised to hear him say that he was informed it would be free game, a general idea and vibe but overall letting Jungkook’s creativity roam free. There was a fond smile stretched upon your lips when he got giddy over it, sprouting out all of the sketch ideas he planned for his work to splay out on the man’s bare skin, eyes twinkling like a fucking kid and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

The car turned to an unfamiliar road and it’s only then your eyebrows furrowed. Your mind perked at the fact you’ve been clueless for that long, not even recognizing the route to your unannounced destination. “I don’t even know where we’re going.”

He turned the wheel again. “Somewhere nicer.” That was the theme for that night, nicer—better—greater than usual.

You eagerly started to look around, like the GPS in front of you didn’t indicate you would be there in the next ten minutes. “Where? What’s the name of the place?” 

He chuckled. “Sit back and wait for it, alright? I promise you’ll like it.”

Of course, you took his word for it.

The tower sat at a painstakingly high height.

“Jungkook,” you deadpanned, “What are we doing here?”

He smiled widely. “Do you remember this place?”

The breeze blew through you and you could only hug yourself tighter with a meager nod. “You took me here for my birthday that one year?”

He nodded, hands in his pockets. “And I only had enough money to pay for the admission fee and nothing else. Not even enough to get a decent souvenir from the gift shop.”

“Hey, no,” you denied with a pout, clearly offended, “You got me a small magnet that’s still hanging on top of our fridge. It’s cute and I love it.”

His tongue ticked against the roof of his mouth and he reluctantly agreed. “Alright, fine. But—”

You gaped at the tower, mindlessly sputtering when you realize, “Is this where we’re having dinner?”

Finally, he confirmed with a solid nod and a sheepish smile. “We have a reservation.”

Blinking, you repeated, “Reservation? Why would we even need one—”

His arm suddenly swooped down and curled your body next to his as soon as you began walking up the intimidating structure. “Because I have the money to do so now, can’t you see? I can finally spoil the fuck out of my wife the way I’ve been wanting to this whole time.” Nicer—better—greater than usual

“Gguk—”

“I know that it might be a few years too late to make up for it, but I want you to realize how much I love you,” he said sincerely. “That I’m doing all of this for reason.”

You tugged his hand and called for him again.

Ignoring your pleas, he continued, “I’m shitty for not doing this sooner, and I know some nights get lonely without me, but I want to pay you back with everything I can possibly afford — I’m working hard. For you. For Yeona. Only for the both of you.”

Impulsively, your heel stomped against the pavement until his attention finally shifted towards you. The action immediately turned regrettable when the impact vibrated and bounced off of your ankle. You winced.

“Jungkook,” you pathetically mumbled, reaching out towards him.

Mid-talk, and it was your eyes that glossed over to throw him off, putting him on high alert. He had no choice but to stare down nervously at you with a bitten lip. 

You exhaled slowly and eventually circled your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You were still just outside of the front doors to climb in a beautifully long elevator ride, the gift shop beside the admission booths light blinking brightly to let visitors know it was wide open for them to waste money on overpriced, useless trinkets and tiny magnets.

Your fingers softly pulled at the hairs of his nape, urging him to give you a kiss right then and there. “I appreciate and love everything you’ve bought and done for me tonight.” Just for even allowing some time for the both of you that weekend — it was way more than enough. Your fingers softly ran over the edge of his jaw and went a bit further up to cup his cheek. His hands slid up to your wrist in return and squeezed, angling his head to put a few kisses on the center of your palm. “But you know I love you regardless, right? I don’t need you to pay back my love I’ll always have for you. Always, Gguk. We maintained a shitty apartment together for so many years, still got married when the circumstances weren’t always the nicest, and continue to raise a beautiful little girl together. Nothing changes when I’m with you.”

He eagerly bent down to encase your lips with his own. “I love you,” he said with utter sincerity, his silent ode to you he would carry along for the rest of his life hung somewhere within the tone of it. Always.

[dendrite-blues]

Fluff, and Why it Triggers Me

Odd start, isn’t it? I bet most people reading this are like “whaaat?”

Which....fair. I know it’s weird. I didn’t have an explanation either, for the longest time. Like 15 years. Seriously.

I just knew that fluff fics made me irrationally sad, angry, and lonely.

I avoided these stories so hard that I left whole discord servers just to get away from them. I developed aggression and frustration with the people who posted about it. I starting getting annoyed just by looking at the prompts channel because it was most often used by the fluff mongers. It’s super unhealthy.

But that begs a really obvious and hard to answer question:

How the fuck could fluff—a genre explicitly about heaping the reader in good feelings—be triggering?

Well that really gets to the heart of trauma and the ways it warps cognition, particularly childhood trauma. If you’d like to see me unpack that trauma, keep reading. Otherwise, have a nice day. :)

We learn to process the world through our parent’s eyes, so when our parents are not good blueprints we end up with some whack ass mental hallways and trapdoors to the haunted basement that healthy people just don’t have. 

For instance:

Fluff-->feelings of comfort, love, support, acceptance Angst-->feelings of hurt, sadness, fear, loneliness, depression

But when I read fluff the story doesn’t have that intended effect on me. I actually feel most of the words listed after angst when I read fluff. And vice versa, reading angst makes me feel seen, validated, comforted, and like I’m not alone.

Having given the matter lots and LOTS of thought, I can finally articulate why.

Because when I look back at my life and particularly my childhood I cannot remember a single specific incident in which I was given comfort or support when I needed it. (God and I’m tearing up just typing that out, fuck’s sake.)

My parents were not outright abusive. They were wealthy, they gave me the best clothes, food, toys, and education money can buy, but they were utterly oblivious to the emotional needs of a child. If I cried I was given a toy or food or told to stop complaining when I had it so good. 

Any negative emotions were treated as an aberration, and when someone broke down in our house it was seen as a display of that person’s weakness, or laziness, or lack of gratitude for the riches we had been blessed with.

To my parents happiness was the natural state of a person, and being unhappy meant you must have done something wrong, or you must be broken in some way. 

Receiving comfort or support required you to first prove that you were entirely the victim, because otherwise your pain and hurt would be answered with a lecture about how you deserve whatever happened because of X, Y, and Z.

The worst part is that my parents are exceptionally logical, orderly people and so most of the time they had very coherent, rational reasons behind their painting of you as a bad person who caused your own problem. It’s a very insidious kind of message that leads you to punishing yourself in their stead, since you leave totally convinced of your own culpability and badness.

My family has two children, me and my sister. I think it’s pretty telling how we turned out because we really are the two most natural responses to growing up in this kind of environment.

I am a hyper competent perfectionist who cannot handle even the slightest insinuation of critique. She is a pathological victim who seems allergic to success and accountability.

When negative emotions are a punishment for wrong doing there are only two ways you can respond. 

Either you eliminate failure and unhappiness from your life so that you do not need support—me.

Or you focus all of your energy on deflecting blame to others so that you can present yourself to your parent as a helpless victim and receive the emotional support that you need—my sister.

But this post is about fluff so let’s get back to that.

Why does fluff trigger me?

Because it confronts me with how healthy people respond to a loved one in pain, and in the course of witnessing that freely given love, I am subconsciously told/reminded of how my ‘loved ones’ failed to do that.

It’s not a conscious thing, as I said at the beginning I went 15 years without ever making this connection. I just knew that flew filled me to the brim with resentment, disgust, discomfort, and anger.

And all of these feelings happen because on some level, my soul is hurting. It’s hurting so bad because I know that I deserved that. 

I know that I deserved to be the protagonist of a fluff fic when I came out. I know I deserved that when my busted wrist killed my illustration career. I know I deserved that when I failed to finish my Masters degree. I know I deserved that when my film work dried up and I lost everything. I know I deserve that now, for no reason other than because I’m sad and doing nothing in particular with my life.

And I wasn’t.

Not because my parents didn’t offer me comfort, but because I learned to never offer myself comfort. I learned to regard my own pain as a weakness, and my desire for support as a character flaw. I learn to hate and resent that weakness inside me, and to project that hate bitterly onto other people who were capable of being comforted and were capable of enjoying soft, fluffy stories. 

Because we humans never want to think that we are the broken ones. It’s too scary. Too much cognitive dissonance. It’s easier to think that everyone else is just stupid or weak or shamefully self indulgent in their reading habits.

But that’s not true, and thinking in that way certainly isn’t healthy for me. In fact it works against my recovery to regard stories about healthy coping/relationships with distain and resentment.

So I’m making the effort from now on to retrain myself, and to unpack all of those emotions I denied myself. To—as some psychologists say—re-parent my inner child.

I might never be a fluff fanatic, and I certainly am not going to stop enjoying angst. I will always love hurt/comfort (or ‘earned comfort’ as I’ve started calling it, to remind myself of why I conveniently allowed myself to enjoy this genre even though it is basically the same as fluff). But from now on I’m not going to let myself look down my nose as fluff and fluff readers. 

I’m going to take those negative feelings and ask myself, “Why do I hate this?”

Is it because fluff is stupid, shallow, annoying, and pointless? Or is because I’ve been conditioned to see love and comfort as things I’m not allowed to want, and that I am weak for wanting?

I’m not sure if anyone else has this reaction to fluff. I know that it’s without a doubt the most popular genre in every single ship tag ever. I know that I have felt freakish and deformed for disliking it because it was so overwhelmingly popular and so universally regarded as harmless and pure and good.

I don’t know if I’m the only one, but if I’m not then I hope this helps the one other person with this problem. I hope it helps you in your recovery, and that it makes you feel seen.

Pull out your inner child, and give them a hug from me. Because we’ve both been deprived of things every single human being needs, and that’s a wound that nobody deserves to carry into adulthood.

[amanda-glassen]

Reality Bites

It's the last day of school in 1992 and Alex is finally going to tell Olivia how she feels...if only she can get five minutes alone with her. 

Previous chapters can be found here.

Chapter 6: The Race Was Long And, In The End, It Was Only With Herself

While standing outside of her seventh period classroom, Alex felt as if she was finally living the high school experience she had spent years longing for, but it pained her to think there was only one hour of it left. She had walked from the football field to their classroom hand-in-hand with Olivia. They had stopped to talk to some of Olivia’s friends along the way and there was the obligatory teasing about how Olivia had finally made her move. Olivia may have gotten teased by her friends, but their girlfriends were giving Alex hugs and telling her how happy they were for the two of them. These girls had seats at the “popular” table in the center of the lunchroom and, although Alex had never witnessed these particular girls giving anyone a hard time, she had held assumptions about them for a significant portion of her adolescence...but there they were welcoming her with open arms into their group because she was Olivia’s girl. They all started talking about summer plans for going to the Fourth of July carnival and beach trips to which Olivia responded by kissing her hand and asking ‘What do you think, babe?’ Internally she was melting into a puddle, but she kept her cool and said it sounded fun. It did sound fun, but Olivia had called her babe and because of that she would have agreed to just about anything. 

With one minute left until the bell rang, Alex was giving Olivia chaste kisses outside of their classroom. Throughout her entire high school existence, she had been annoyed with her peers who would kiss in front of others, but now she had found a girl that she never wanted to stop kissing and she wouldn’t have had Olivia’s friend Travis not whistled at them as he walked by.  

“I’m gonna smack him later,” Olivia told the now blushing Alex. “But right now I’m gonna hug you and then we should go inside. I’ll kiss you again in less than an hour.”

“You two are so cute,” they heard one of their classmates say in the midst of their hug. “Alex, everyone is still talking about how Olivia asked you out in fourth period.” 

Alex turned to the side to see Jackie Chavez, the girl she had considered her nemesis until last week, but would soon be her roommate at Harvard. At the senior awards banquet, the principal announced that Alex would be the valedictorian and Jackie would be the salutatorian－the only difference between their GPAs being Alex’s 4.5 in comparison to Jackie’s 4.499 because of a chemistry test that Jackie had gotten a couple of wrong answers on in the 11th grade. Alex wanted to forget the awards banquet－how she vomited in the girls bathroom before the announcement because of how nervous she was. Her older brother Harrison hugged her once she left the bathroom and tried to calm her down by reminding her that she had already gotten into Harvard and none of this would matter in three months.

Alex felt like that night could have been treated as a psychology study on parenting styles. Mr. and Mrs. Chavez were warm and affectionate and they told Jackie that they loved her no matter what the outcome while Mr. and Mrs. Cabot had sent Harrison to find Alex because neither of them wanted to deal with one of her anxiety attacks. When she returned to the auditorium, Alex looked over at Jackie. She smiled at Alex and Alex tried to smile in return. It pained her to see how radiant Jackie looked that night in her bright pink dress, flawless makeup, and long, dark wavy hair. Before the awards were given out, she mingled with the other award recipients and the teachers with ease. To Alex, it appeared as if Jackie didn’t have a care in the world and then she realized it was because she didn’t. Her entire life hadn’t been building up to this moment. Valedictorian and Salutatorian didn’t matter to her because Mr. and Mrs. Chavez would have been proud of her regardless. It dawned on Alex that their home lives couldn’t have been more different from each other. Whereas Mr. and Mrs. Chavez rewarded Jackie for her successes, success was the expectation for Alex and she was punished for coming in second place. It was Jackie that had gotten the lead in the kindergarten Christmas pageant instead of her and Jackie that was named their middle school valedictorian. Harvard was Jackie’s dream school and Alex’s expectation. For twelve years, Alex had been in an academic competition with Jackie. The race was long and, in the end, Alex learned that it was only with herself. Regardless of which one was valedictorian and salutatorian, they ended up at the same university and in the same dorm room and Alex lost out on years of potentially having a friend that was in all the same honors and AP classes as her.

“Olivia Benson, please report to the office,” they heard over the intercom. “Olivia Benson, please report to the office.”

Jackie smiled at Olivia and playfully touched her arm. “Let me guess, it’s for your next surprise for Alex.”

Olivia smirked. “I wish, but no. This time I’m actually in trouble. Excuse me.” She stole one last kiss from Alex before heading to the office to accept her fate.

“So you and Olivia,” Jackie said as she and Alex walked to their desks. “I think that’s awesome and I’m pretty sure our whole class was wondering when you two would finally get together.”

Just as their teacher’s penchant for alphabetical order placed Alex’s desk on the right side of Olivia’s, it also placed her on the left side of Jackie’s, so the two of them were able to continue their conversation even after they had sat down at their desks. “Why would our entire class assume Olivia and I had crushes on each other?”

Jackie stopped rummaging through her backpack and stared at Alex with a shocked expression on her face. “Really, Alex? You didn’t think you two were obvious?”

“Anyone in this class could see the eye sex going on between the two of you even if you both decided not to act on it earlier for some reason,” Steven Adams, their classmate whose desk was on the other side of Olivia’s, pointed out. “Smooth move not picking her for the poetry project last month, by the way. That would have probably given you an entire weekend alone with her.”

“This conversation doesn’t concern you, Steven,” Jackie said once she realized how embarrassed Alex had become. She grabbed a highlighter from the front pouch of her backpack and attempted to chuck it at Steven, but her aim was off and it landed at his feet instead. 

Their English teacher had yet to start class, instead giving her students extra time to settle in and even goof off during the last class period of their entire high school careers.

Olivia came in five minutes later and tried to be inconspicuous when she sat down at her desk, but the smile on her face let Alex know that Olivia had been up to something.

“Missed you,” Olivia told her.

“I missed you, too,” Alex responded.

Moments later, they heard an announcement over the loudspeaker. “This is for Alex from Olivia.” An old love song from the ‘50s started to play and Alex recognized it as ‘I Only Have Eyes For You,’ a song she’d heard on the radio while in the car with her parents when she was younger and first starting to be interested in girls. She imagined slow dancing to it with the girl of her dreams and, although Olivia looked and acted nothing like that girl she had imagined all those years ago, she knew Olivia was even better.

“That’s so cute!” Jackie told the now blushing Alex.

“Way to go,” Steve congratulated Olivia. “...even if you’ve now made everyone else look bad for not doing something similar for their girlfriends on the last day of school.”

Alex reached over to grab Olivia’s hand. “More connections?”

Olivia rubbed her thumb on Alex’s palm. “Kind of. Mrs. Anderson, who works in the office and does the announcements, has been my mom’s friend since high school. I lied about getting in trouble, but I swear that’s the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about.”

The remainder of the class period flew by until one of their classmates pointed out that there were only 15 seconds left. When those 15 seconds turned into 10 seconds, the entire class started counting down out loud. 

10...9....8…

She looked over and smiled at Olivia who winked at her in return. 

7...6...5...4…

Her heart began to race when Olivia squeezed her hand.

3...2...1…

And just like that, her high school career was over and she was finally free to put four years of anxiety and sleepless nights over her grades behind her.

[dangan-meme-palace]

Do you find Saihara's characterization weird in chapter 6? Because I do :( He's become super confident, optimistic, and leader-like too fast, especially if you compare to ch5 and before...I understand that in the last chapter all protags get pumped up to end the killing game but...he's quoting Momota and he also developed a 'hunch' like him...even Harukawa says 'sometimes you're so much like Kaito' pls no I like Saihara the way he is, meaning, not like Momota :( but that's just my opinion! ^^

Shuichi's characterization is all over the place. It's not even like... "he's inconsistent because humans are inconsistent" or whatever, it's literally just that his personality changes whenever the narrative needs it to without anything but loose, barely-there excuses to try and justify why it happens.

Chapter 1:

No problems with believing in his detective work, he's actually quite shockingly confident in them for how much he downplays them.

His actual problem is not thinking his skills are where they should be according to professional standards, which is an accurate assessment if the rest of the game is anything to go by actually.

Calls Kaito a reckless idiot for doing something reckless and idiotic. This is the only time he does this.

Learns a lesson?? I guess?? The lesson was apparently supposed to be "don't be afraid to reach for the truth" but it came off more like "you shouldn't let everyone die just because you liked Kaede the most, picking favorites and having bias is bad because you have a duty to remain unbiased so everyone doesnt die"

Then everyone conveniently forgets that he was willing to let them die.

Chapter 1 was the best for his characterization except for the trial. I wish he had acted like this throughout the entire game.

Let him investigate. Dear god why doesn't the detective investigate, or even cast doubt?

Chapter 2:

Kaito is starting to become his Bro now. He's not super biased like in later chapters, but you can start to see it happening.

This is the chapter where he tells everyone not to let their biases get in the way of logic, which is funny considering what he's like in other chapters.

Big sad about Kaede, but a few of the characters (Ryoma, Tenko) comfort him so he's choosing to turn this tragedy into a growth moment. I guess it's kinda like what Chihiro did, except a girl had to die for it and he didn't get brained with a dumbbell at the end.

He's the nicest to everyone in this chapter. Don't worry, it won't last long :)

If he had kept the weird sort of optimism he had during this chapter plus the logical thinking instead of leaning into the angst he might've actually developed and Kaede's death might've been worth a damn.

Chapter 3

Maki gets the spotlight so there's not much to say except for the fact that he's gotten super awkward and is getting progressively dumber.

Honestly Maki is kind of right when she keeps calling him a dumbass for asking questions with very obvious answers.

Literally how the fuck did he ever solve infidelity cases when he can't even figure out shit that's this basic.

Smh.

Oh yeah, the odd hopefulness is gone now. It's buried next to my hope of him turning out to be an interesting character.

Put your hat back on if you're gonna angst again emo boy.

Investigation? Dont know her. I only know the Grind 💯 and hanging out with the Bros 😤👊

Chapter 4:

One of his worst chapters. I fucking hate this chapter.

Everyone patted him on the back before the trial and it felt shoehorned in. I'm not even sure why they did it honestly?

Kokichi = Evil

Kaito & Maki = Good

But dont worry guys, he's totally not biased or anything! (/s)

He's mega biased.

During the trial he has a lot of confidence, like the good kind he had back in Chapter 2. Especially when he lied and when he stood his ground against Kaito. He'll be punished by the narrative for going against Kaito, but for now I'll enjoy his limp-dicked rebellion.

Apparently he cares for Gonta except he never once talked to him during the main story and even insulted Gonta in his head during their FTEs. When did he start to care about Gonta? He didn't, but now he does I guess.

Chapter 5:

Another bad chapter. Hate this too

Officially graduated from Kaito's Bro to Kaito's Simp.

Also his confidence is entirely dependent on Kaito. When Kaito wants him to do something, he's sure Kaito's plan will work and gives him all of his support. If Kaito expresses displeasure, he's ashamed of himself and has no confidence. I-... y'know sometimes I genuinely worry about their dynamic.

Kokichi = Evil ×2 combo

No detective work or reasoning. Why would the gofer project want a cosplayer to go to space and preserve humanity? Or an ex murderer? Or an assassin? Or a detective? Are they going to be solving space crimes? Shuichi should have been so god damn suspicious- the MOST suspicious, even- but he's practically braindead at this point in the story.

Investigation skills, when will you return from the war?

Goes from suicidal to "uwu I'm a hopeful student of Hope's Peak Academy" way too quickly for someone with supposed confidence issues.

Seriously, how did he go from "the world has been destroyed and I cant fix it so I might as well die" to "yeah! we will definitely fix it! we dont know how yet, but we'll totally do it because we're Ultimates even though in Chapter 1 I didnt even think I deserved to be an Ultimate but shhhh" so quickly?

Kiibo and Shuichi kinda sounded like Kaede when they saw the Hope's Peak Flashback and it's so fucking weird because there's no justification for it

Chapter 6:

Literally what was this chapter

Why did it take Kiibo threatening to blow up the school to get him to investigate the mastermind again? 9 people have died since Chapter 1, but he acted as though he couldn't do anything about it. He even says he "can only help after people die", but Chapter 1 disproved that because he literally almost caught the mastermind without anyone dying so-

At least he investigated, I guess. It's sad that a detective investigating is considered a miracle, but here we are.

During the trial he's rapidly switching from hopeful to suicidal to hopeful again and it gives me so much whiplash, like god damn. Chill out a bit, buddy.

Much like the now-late Kaito, Shuichi tries to convince everyone to die with him to make some sort of stand against TDR. Somehow this worked and they also somehow didn't die and we aren't given justification for either.

The confidence came from the fact that the narrative needed him to be confident. That's it. There's literally no justification for this. There's no justification for anything, honestly.

What even was that ending, like what the fuck was that? None of their arcs got wrapped up at all...

So basically

Shuichi is confident but he's not but only when Kaito believes in him but he can stand against Kaito when he needs to and also he's not actually confident and Kaito needs to baby him. Shuichi is also not biased because he learned a lesson about that, unless your name is Kaito, Maki, or Kokichi, in which case he is incredibly biased to the point of putting the lives of other people on the line, but he wants everyone to survive because he learned a lesson about that. He's also incredibly dismissive of most of the cast in his head, to the point of being cold, but it should be noted that Shuichi really cares about his friends and is really nice and supportive of others. He's a big doormat except for when he doesn't want to be, unless it involves Kaito, because then he is always a sidekick except for when he isn't.

Hope that cleared things up! As you can see Shuichi is a very consistent character :) (/s)

-tech

[edmund-valks]

From Suramar to the Winter Court

"We… don't normally get your kind here. Then again, the living are hardly expected to be where the souls of the dead dwell. What you've shown me makes me think you would normally be… elsewhere. Perhaps among the Venthyr."

"Why is that?"

"They're the sort who help people work through their pasts."

"I don't need my past. I need a future. So I've come here, to find one. To make one."

"I don't understand…"

"Then let me explain more clearly…"

***

I was born to a family of musicians in Suramar, long after the Sundering. We lived in the grandest city on Azeroth, but could never leave it. The dome we lived beneath was our salvation as much as our cage. It was a tradeoff accepted by our ancestors; we had no choice but to live with it.

My parents were not rich. They had enough money to ensure all their children were tattooed, but only with the simplest patterns. Still, we did not struggle in my early days. Music brought joy, and everyone wanted more joy. We played and sang and did not starve.

As I got older, my voice changed. Never quite the singer my family needed, I became far worse as I progressed through adolescence. It wasn't technique; I know how to breathe, how to shape my mouth, how to project. My tone, however, and range… Well. They were of little use. I became accompaniment at best. I took up needlework to minimize the burden I'd become. Cunningly patched garments are no match for a soulful aria, though.

If I hadn't grown entirely out of youthful beauty, they could have at least hoped to gain by my marriage. Instead, my voice and face and body achieved unity in ugliness, none betraying the others by achieving. This would not have been an issue in the year of my birth, but life had become ever more lean in the city.

The poorest are always aware that they are, and we had become increasingly close to being among them. Our art paid the same as ever, but the cost to survive had grown. People had begun to disappear, though it was always those who you might expect: the lonely, the bitter, the rebellious. Perhaps, we told ourselves, they had finally committed a grand crime and gotten exiled. That was the punishment, you see -- banishment from the city. It meant you were cut off from the Nightwell. You would wither away without its magic to sustain you. The lucky went to sleep and never woke up. The others went mad.

As we were becoming progressively nearer to the bottom rung of the social ladder, the demons returned. We -- my people, not my family, even my great-grandparents were too young to recall this -- had fought them before. The shield that was our sky had been created then. This time… things were not so easy for us. The High Magistrix traded our sovereignty for our survival, and so the Legion came to live among us.

There was an outcry, of course, even some small acts of rebellion. None were successful. The leaders were either jailed or exiled, not executed. I think the idea was that death created martyrs, while exile simply made animals. Life changed little, is what I am getting at. The major difference was the Legion walking our streets, presumably making demands of our leaders. We were more concerned with surviving, so I can't say we worried too much about all that.

It was difficult, though. Those who could afford to purchase the joy of song were fewer and fewer, yet they were increasingly wealthy. If there had ever been such a thing as a middle class, it had effectively disappeared. The rich sacrificed nothing; the rest of us scraped by.

Except those who didn't. There were more disappearances. Sometimes there were raids. Usually the families taken away were related to someone known to be a criminal of some sort. It was easy not to notice or care. We were much more concerned with our own lives. The bottom was coming quickly, we knew.

My family tried with me. I know they did. Nobody could have guessed I would betray them by ending up a collection of flaws held together with collective disappointment. They would not miss me, I was certain, so I decided I would do some good for them. I left one night while they slept, heading down to the docks.

The demons were most common there. Intimidating though they were, I often felt their presence to be… not soothing, exactly, but more tolerable than others. At least when I stood beside a flayed-skin husk that fed on souls I could feel almost pretty. They ignored me, mostly, so I sought out those of my people who worked among them.

There was work to be had, you see. The Legion needed portals opened and maintained, portals that required someone act as the conduit to maintain them. It was not very skilled labour, but that was good. I lacked skill, possessing nothing but my relative youth and determination to no longer burden my parents with my disappointing existence. I became what the later rebellion called a collaborator. In exchange for helping the Legion to destroy our planet, I could improve my family's lives. It seemed a fair trade.

I was surprisingly good at the work. I learned quickly, and I tired far less easily than others. The demons and my supervisors taught me runes and cosmology that were typically reserved for those who could afford tutors. I was rewarded quite decently for my efforts, and I passed that along to my family. They lived better than ever because of me, but believed me dead. I'd requested that, you see. I wanted them to profit without knowing I was a collaborator. Let them think I had died in service to something useful or whatever, and that in so doing I had made sure they would survive. They didn't need to be any more disappointed than I'd already made them.

The problem was I finally understood where people were going. We brought the Legion in, maintained paths from the Twisting Nether and other Legion worlds, but that was the most innocuous of what was happening. The disappeared, those too far gone to be of use to Elisande's regime… they were taken elsewhere. They would be loaded onto boats or carts or cages mounted on the backs of horrible beasts I never learned the names of. And then they would be gone. I didn't know exactly where, though I learned the name: the soul engines.

What happened there was beyond my understanding. I knew as much as I needed: the poor went in, power came out. My work… well. I don't know if they were related. The Legion handled it, so I suppose I helped in that sense, but doing what I did was the only thing that kept me and my family from finding out more about the "process" first-hand. Perhaps I was involved in the murder of thousands? All I know is I saved at least seven lives.

…

I'm sorry, I'm not used to talking about all of this. It seems important to be honest here, so I'm trying. In all honesty, I don't take any responsibility for what was done. How could I? It wasn't my decisions that caused any of those things to happen. I did what I had to to survive. And I made them pay in the end.

Once the… second, I suppose, rebellion started in earnest, the system became increasingly strained. My hours lengthened. Several others became so burned out they were "sent home early", almost certainly a euphemism for being fed to the engines. Some were murdered for collaborating with the Legion, or Elisande, or whoever the rebels were mad at that day. I couldn't help them, any of them. My life -- and others' -- depended on keeping my head down. So I did.

I considered, though, and I thought. I was becoming very senior, at least by maintenance standards. The portal builders were under pressure as well, their numbers thinning or being pulled for other priority tasks. That left space for opportunities. I didn't want to be them, but I was capable of learning. That made me an apprentice of sorts, something I never would have been a decade earlier. My family lacked the resources to get me a mentor; the Legion invasion had given me one for free, while providing for their needs.

My education on runes happened at an aggressive pace. Every day was multiple practical exams, and if I failed it was likely to kill me. I didn't. I wasn't allowed many questions, so I made them count. I learned a great deal in those days. For instance, I discovered that a small instability introduced by a slightly malformed rune could cause a devastating energy backlash. Can you imagine what might happen if a system under strain began breaking down while under heavy use? People could die, especially if the portal structures are being kept constantly active with no downtime for repair.

…

I said I was trying to be honest, didn't I? I knew what I was doing would kill them. That was the idea. I only did it because I thought I could get away with it. While nobody would think a lowborn technician was smart enough to do it, they would still prefer to punish the "unskilled" over someone who went to the same academy or whatever. That made me safe, even if I was an obvious suspect. They needed me, and I wasn't like the others. I benefited from their system and never dissented. Would I have done it if I thought they might be less blind? I don't know. I'm not willing to die over principle. It won't prove a point to anyone, won't change the world. Nobody would remember my sacrifice, so no, I don't think I would. The world hasn't earned that from me, and I don't deserve to die. We all do what we must to survive.

***

"...So no, I'm not pursuing "redemption". I don't have sins weighing me down. What I am is… curious. This is the world my people once knew, back long ago, isn't it? Where the only magic is that of the world around? We kept the night for millennia, but missed out on what that meant beyond our walls."

The fae hovered for a moment on her great wings, what could have been a shiver rippling through her fur. "I-I'm still not sure you're going to like it here. You don't seem the sort to laugh."

"There hasn't been much to laugh about in my life," the shal'dorei snapped. She took a breath, continuing on more softly. "Besides, I don't plan to stay forever. We are helping each other. Perhaps you can help me laugh."

Blinking several times, the creature was clearly hesitant, but desperate times did come with special rules. "We… can certainly try! Um. Come along, let's get you introduced to everyone, Miss…?"

"Ciscandra," she answered, deliberately omitting a surname. "Thank you."

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 9

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit/18+ warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark 

Bucky was honestly impressed by Penny’s pain tolerance. Or maybe her stubbornness. He wasn’t sure which had seen her half way through a very thorough spanking with minimal noises, but it was only at swat 27 out of 50 that small sounds of pain started escaping her. Nothing loud or obvious, just short whines that could’ve been easily mistaken for exhales if he didn’t have enhanced hearing. Her hands, held carefully in his metal grasp behind the small of her back to prevent thrashing, were tightened into fists, skin going whiter with tension after every smack.

At 40 she was audibly whimpering and he could smell the salt of her tears. Her ass was dark red, hot to the touch, and would be sore for several long days. It was only fair, she’d broken Steve’s nose and stabbed him with a fucking fork— not being able to sit right for a week was almost not enough. But it was also her first punishment, it wouldn’t do to go too hard right off the bat.

At 44 the door to the apartment opened and Steve walked in with two black eyes, nose and thigh already beginning to heal. At 45, a loud cry escaped and Penny started openly sobbing. If it weren’t for his legs trapping hers, she would have started kicking out of desperation.

“Almost there baby,” he cooed, laying another hard swat down.

She wailed in response, going boneless over his lap. The high-pitched cry turned Steve’s stomach and he started forward. Bucky hurriedly gave her the last four before the blond could intervene, seeing the intention on the man’s face. Steve swept her up immediately when he got close enough, tucking her into his chest tightly.

“Shhhh, baby, you’re okay, you did so good,” he murmured, rubbing carefully up and down her back while she clung to his torso, legs hooked over his hips, “it’s all over baby, you’re done.”

Bucky came up behind her, running a hand through Steve’s hair and down his cheek, gently sweeping his thumb over the bruise under his left eye. There had been multiple times when he and Steve got into physical fights and wailed on each other. He’d certainly given his boyfriend much worse injuries than what Penny had done.

“I’m gonna go grab some arnica cream and her shorts,” he told the blond quietly, motioning towards the couch.

Steve nodded, maneuvering to lounge on the couch with Penny lying on her front against his chest. She was still sobbing and he couldn’t blame her; Bucky had made sure the spanking would leave a remind of her behavior for days. He gently moved her to lay on his thighs, turned more on her side than flat on her front and pressed her cheek into his chest.

“I know baby, cry it out,” he kept his tone soft and gentle, pleased by how she clutched his tank top in her fists, pressing as close to his torso as she could.

He shifted her again when Bucky came back, rotating her enough that her reddened behind was easily accessible. The brunet was almost treated to a foot to the face as Penny tried to scramble away at the first brush of his fingers against her burning skin. Steve tightened his grip, hushing her quickly when she cried out.

“Bucky’s gonna make it feel better baby, hold still.”

“No please!” Penny was wailing, desperately trying to thrash away, “please, please, please—”

“Penny, baby, breathe,” Steve hefted her slightly higher against his chest, adjusting his grip and pressing his cheek against the top of her head, “he’s gonna put lotion on that’ll make it feel better.”

“Please don’t, it hurts please, please don’t!”

Bucky sighed quietly and got off his knees to sit on the edge of the couch by Steve’s hip, laying his hand on her back, “I’m gonna be as gentle as I can sweetheart.”

She cried through the whole process as he carefully applied the arnica cream to her bruising skin, begging him to stop whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Both Steve and Bucky winced the whole time, her pain giving them almost physical aches.

“Shhhh, it’s done baby, I’m done,” Bucky cooed softly, “we’re gonna skip your panties, I brought some really soft shorts.”

“No, no, no, no, no…” it was sobbed and Steve had to hold her arms tighter as Bucky slipped her feet into the silk shorts, carefully pulling them up her legs.

She screeched, more in fear they assumed than pain as Bucky pulled them over the curve of her ass and adjusted the band around her waist. They were the softest pair of shorts they’d bought her, pale pink and purchased specifically with punishment aftercare in mind. Both were hoping spankings would be enough, they didn’t want to have to graduate to more painful punishments.

“See baby, they’re soft,” Bucky rubbed his hand over her exposed thigh gently, “and the fabric’s nice and cold.”

“Let’s move to the bed,” Steve nodded towards the door to the bedroom, shifting carefully on the couch before swinging his legs over the edge and standing with Penny clutched to his chest.

Bucky manipulated her legs to tuck around the blond’s hips, making sure there wasn’t unnecessary pressure on her ass before moving ahead to open the door. He watched his boyfriend carry her through and lay down on the bed with her still on his chest, never shifting her more than a few inches. He felt a slow smile crawl across his face as she clenched the fabric of his tank top in her hands, pressing her forehead to the bare skin above the neckline. Penny would inevitably pull away from him as the one who delivered the punishment, but Bucky didn’t mind too much if it meant he was privy to sights like the one in front of him.

Steve was taller than him by a few inches, but much slimmer. His shoulders were wide, his torso tapered sharply into his hips and his ass was to die for followed by tree trunk thighs. Penny’s shape and size allowed her to slot perfectly against the front of his body, head rested to the side between his pecs, her soft chest and stomach cushioned along the dip of his abs. Her hips were wide enough that her legs splayed comfortably over his thin waist, resting on the bed on either side of him and her feet tucked back over his knees. She’d tucked one arm up along her body, fist still wrapped around his shirt and rested under her chin with the other hidden under her hair on the other side of her head.

“Incoming,” Bucky directed the quiet statement at the blond, jerking his head back slightly towards the front door, ���you good?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed softly, his eyes fluttering shut as he wrapped his arms around Penny’s back, hands tangling carefully in her hair, “keep me updated.”

“Shouldn’t be much,” he crossed the room and kissed Steve’s lips gently before kissing the back of Penny’s head.

Penny was half asleep, exhausted from the stress and crying. She could hear them talking but couldn’t really understand what they were saying. It didn’t really matter anyway, nothing they said meant anything.

Her head hurt and her throat hurt and her ass hurt and her stomach hurt too. Everything hurt in special and inconsistent ways; throbbing, aching, stabbing, shooting pains. Her arm hurt especially, where she’d fallen on it in the kitchen. She couldn’t believe she let herself get so worked up over a spanking. Had it hurt as much as she thought or had she just freaked out? Her ass was on fire, a deep throbbing that kept time with her heartbeat. It had just been such a repetitive pain, the same spots, the same tender skin, the same pressure with each hit. It had built to an overwhelming agony at the end.

She swallowed a sob, feeling her body shake with force of it. Steve was quick to start hushing her, making quiet noises and rubbing her back soothingly. His legs twitched and the next thing she knew he was pulling a heavy comforter up over them, tucking it carefully along her shoulders.

“Let’s take a nap baby, you’re so tired,” he cooed, nose brushing against the top of her head.

“Perhaps a movie will help, Captain? My records show that Ms. Parker regularly falls asleep while watching DVDs on her laptop.”

It really emphasized how tired she was, that Penny didn’t jump at the sudden sound of the AI’s voice. Honestly, she kind of appreciated the technology butting in; it was hard for her to fall asleep in a quiet room. Steve was quick to agree, asking the AI to project a movie onto the far wall. JARVIS must’ve been watching her closely for some time, to know that her favourite movie to sleep to was Toy Story.

Only a few minutes of the movie went on before Penny went slack in Steve’s arms and he felt himself start to finally relax. He’d been tense the entire time, just knowing she was in pain and so distraught had him tied up in knots. The punishment had been necessary, she’d acted in an unacceptable manner, but it had hurt his heart to listen to her cry while enduring the spanking.

If everything went according to plan, she would adapt before long. She’d acclimate to her situation, settle into her new life, and the fighting would stop. Penny would calm, accept them.

“We’ll make you happy,” he whispered to the sleeping woman, stroking his hands up and down her back under the blanket, “you just have to let us, babydoll.”

It took two hours for Bucky to come back, Penny was still sound asleep when the door opened and he walked in. Thankfully. His entire front was saturated with blood, it was literally dripping from his hair. Steve’s eyes passed over him carefully, looking for any injuries but saw none.

“You couldn’t have cleaned up before you came home?” He raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend, “what if Penny had been awake?”

“I checked with JARVIS,” Bucky rolled his eyes, stripping his shirt off as he crossed the room, “said she was sound asleep. From his tone, I’m assuming he’s mad at me.”

“JARVIS is mad at you? The computer that lives in the walls?”

Bucky shot the blond a scowl, “he has emotions, okay? Stark programmed him too well and he could take over the fuckin’ planet if he wanted to.”

“Drop your pants and shirt down the incinerator,” Steve ordered when his boyfriend started to drop his soiled shirt into the laundry basket, “I don’t want those where Penny could see them.”

“I like this shirt!”

“Then you shouldn’t have worn it for an interrogation, Buck!”

“Interrwhaht?”

They both froze at the sound of Penny’s voice, Bucky swiftly divulging himself of his bloody jeans and wrapping them and his shirt into a wad. Steve had one hand pressed gently to the top of her head, a small attempt at preventing her from trying to look around, and frantically gestured to Bucky’s hair with the other hand. The brunet practically dived for the bathroom when she batted his hand away and pressed herself up with one arm, looking around blearily.

“S’it Bucky?” She frowned, squinting around only for Steve to shush her and scoop her back into his chest.

“Buck’s in the shower baby, he went for a workout,” he lied easily, tilting her chin up to nuzzle her face, lips ghosting over her cheeks, “are you hungry? You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours.”

Penny hummed, turning her head this way and that to avoid him, “not hungry.”

“You sure doll? You don’t have to sit at the table, we can eat on the couch,” he implored, running a gentle hand over her backside under the comforter.

The reminder had Penny going stiff in his arms, having nearly forgotten about the pain. Coming out of sleep, she’d forgotten about everything almost. But only for a moment. Pain and anger and fear hit her with force and she wasn’t sure which feeling deserved the most attention.

“Don’t tense up on me, sweetheart,” Steve didn’t want to lose the little bit of sleepy intimacy she’d allowed for just a few moments after waking, clutching her against his chest, his hands running up and down her back, “shhh, come back to me, baby. You’re safe, right here, you’re warm and comfortable.”

“Let me go,” she grit her teeth and began to squirm, raising the arm that didn’t hurt to press against his shoulder, “let go!”

A firm pat against her ass made her yelp, tears welling in her eyes at the pain. Steve had barely used any pressure but it was enough to ignite the skin back to a stinging burn, his hand running over the spot softly moments later not going anything to ease the pain.

“You need to calm down, Penny,” his voice was stern and he used one hand to direct her face, forcing her to look him in the eye even as a few renegade tears dripped down her cheeks, “I know that you don’t like it when we tell you to calm down, but you’re working yourself up. You’re okay, you’re safe; there’s no reason to panic or get angry. Now take a deep breath and decide how you want this to play out.”

“Be sweet, babydoll,” Bucky’s voice came from the bathroom and she turned to see him leaning against the doorjamb, towel wrapped around his waist, “maybe that’ll be what we call rule number two: Be Sweet.”

Steve’s arms wrapped around her, a deliberate squeeze giving her the option of either pulling away or leaning against him. A tremble ran through her, bone deep as she considered her options. The first was, obviously, to follow the lead and let herself be tucked into his chest. The second was to continue to fight, but the shocking pain still burning through her ass gave her pause. It would hurt, so much, if she kept fighting. And it already hurt so much. Her bruises were bruised.

But giving in was hard. Where her body hurt in the literal sense, the idea of letting herself be cuddled and coddled hurt her soul. A searing sensation ran through her chest, a physical manifestation, and more tears began falling down her cheeks. There were just a few more seconds of hesitation before she leaned forward, letting her forehead press into his shoulder.

“Precious,” Steve’s voice was breathy and relieved and he leant back into the pillows against the headboard, bringing Penny with him, and relaxed with her reclined on his chest, “that’s such a good girl, Penny, thank you babydoll.”

A hand slid into the hair at the nape of her neck, fingers carefully massaging the tension. Bucky joined them on the open side of the bed, resting on his side, pressed up against Steve with his head also on the blond’s chest. A heavy, content sigh escaped the man, his unused arm wrapping around his lounging boyfriend.

“This is perfect,” he murmured, feeling his eyes growing heavy at the sheer level of contented bliss running through his veins, “JARVIS, will you project another movie onto the wall please?”

“Of course, Captain.”

Steve was quick to realize that the AI must’ve actually been mad at his boyfriend, because the movie that started was Coraline; a movie that Bucky found deeply disturbing, especially for a kid’s movie. His mouth opened to say something, but Penny let out a small noise before he could.

“I love this movie, thank you JARVIS,” she looked towards the ceiling endearingly and Bucky shut his mouth, teeth clicking audibly.

The AI sounded positively smug as he responded, “my pleasure, Ms. Parker. Enjoy your day in bed and please alert me if there is anything I may do to make you more comfortable.”

JARVIS was mad at Bucky but apparently adored Penny already. The two men exchanged glances at the realization; JARVIS was irritated because Bucky had punished Penny, she’d cried and was in pain and it was Bucky’s fault as far as the AI was concerned.

“This could be a problem,” Steve murmured quietly towards Bucky, ignoring Penny’s questioning glance.

“Oh, I’m sure it is a problem.”

[dalekofchaos]

Nathan did not kill Rachel

It is common belief to the fandom that Nathan killed Rachel. He did not. There is evidence throughout the game that proves Nathan is innocent when it comes to Rachel and Mark Jefferson killed Rachel and tried to pin her murder on Nathan.

Evidence. 

The effects of dosing. In the game, whenever a characters pupils are dilated, it means they were drugged up.

Just like Max was in this photo. She couldn't move at all... Too weak. And we all know how hard she was trying to move.

In this Photo, Nathan and Rachel are in the junkyard on the ground right before she was buried.

Nathan's eyes are opened, and guess what? His pupils are dilating, showing that he has been drugged.

So, if he is drugged to oblivion, someone else had the drugs. Nathan can't move or think for himself.

To add to this, the picture was taking from an above angle, like someone was standing over him and Rachel. It was too high to be a tripod.

Meaning, there was another person there. It wasn’t Nathan who did this to her.

In fact, it had to only be the person taking the picture. Which, only leaves one other person. Mark Jefferson

Mark Jefferson is an unreliable narrator. Everything he’s been telling us all game was a lie. When Max first confronts Jefferson about Chloe. "Chloe, right. Yeah, I'm sorry I killed—that Nathan killed her in self-defense. But she had a troubled history like most Arcadia Bay dropouts. Nobody will be surprised... or care.” And when Max insists that he killed Chloe “She had a loaded weapon. This was clearly self-defense; but that's what happens when you play with guns...or try to fuck with me. It's better when they don't know...like pure...sweet...Kate.” 

Notice the way Jefferson says the words “Chloe” when he meets her in episode 4. Like he knows her. He must have heard her from Rachel and it must have been VERY ANNOYING that someone was out there looking for Rachel. After seeing Rachel’s 17 missed calls. He knew she was a liability. So I think Jefferson was trying to get rid of Chloe. Let’s go back to  Chloe and Nathan’s incident. This theory suggests that Jefferson slipped something into her drink, Nathan took her to her dorm and used the photo as a means against Jefferson as the picture of Chloe wasn’t his usual aesthetic. When Max inspects the box of his gun, she said "given by whom?" I see that as Jefferson giving him the gun because it gives me the vibe that Jefferson wanted Chloe gone one way or the other. "if you don't deal with this, then I will"

On the subject of Nathan and Chloe. While Nathan did kill Chloe, it was an accident. No one is innocent in that incident. Chloe was trying to steal money when he was intoxicated and later blackmails him for money. Nathan shouldn’t have brought the gun, he had no intention of using it either. The drug he's taking, Diazepam, (which could be for possible schizophrenic episodes and panic attacks) has a side effect that causes involuntary muscle spasms. So it did fire on accident, but Chloe kept pushing him and pushed him while the gun was on her body.  The death of Chloe was an accident caused by both, but Nathan did not intend to kill Chloe, this is evident after seeing his reaction to her death and apologizing as Chloe dies and the unused audio of his reaction afterwords.

And when you confront Jefferson about Kate. If Kate survived “She'll certainly outlive you. [chuckles] Who knows? Maybe I'll pay Kate a visit soon and test her faith again..” If you could not save Kate “Which makes me sad, Max. I will miss her... Kate had such a strong spirit...it was very satisfying to break it down.”

There are multiple victims in those binders. 23 victims, 20 if Kate and Victoria lives. To add even further,  Jefferson says he has killed many girls, and that he wouldn't hesitate to kill Max and his very intention was killing Max. He even says he manipulated Nathan.

And when it comes to Nathan and drugging the girls, if you’re giving someone an injection (allegedly how Rachel died), you need to be extremely precise - someone with muscle spasm issues, especially someone under the influence, would have quite a bit of difficult wielding a needle.

I think Nathan tried to save Rachel from Jefferson, but Jefferson caught them. In Rachel’s Dark Room photos, Rachel looked more awake. 

Nathan could have tried to awaken Rachel and came close to escaping the Dark Room, but trying to save Rachel, resulted in Jeffershit overdosing Rachel and dosing Nathan and posing Nathan with Rachel’s dead body as punishment and was planning on pinning Rachel on Nathan.

Jefferson said he manipulated Nathan, Jefferson is known for being a manipulative sociopath and has been using Nathan or as he says “I prefer the term "manipulated." Like with an image... Nathan's was easy to twist around.” so it’s not that far fetched to suggest that Jefferson gaslighted Nathan into believing that he did kill Rachel. To add even deeper into this, after the party with Kate, Nathan would then know what he did wasn’t him. Even in the bathroom with Chloe, he says:"I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!" People. Plural. Meaning he's talking about more than just his dad. And its quite obvious his friends at Blackwell aren't controlling him. Once again, that leaves Jefferson as the architect of Nathan’s downward spiral. I’ll go as far to say that Jefferson killed Samantha and made Nathan think he did it.

Nathan was obviously in the Dark Room again, October 4th when he brought Kate from his party. What if he had seen those pictures and realized he didn't kill Rachel? And maybe even hoped she wasn’t dead? They were friends. That would explain Nathan's reaction to seeing Max in Rachel's clothes at the two whales diner. "Rachel? Whateverthefuck?" If he killed her, then what would make him have hope of seeing her again? Shouldn't he already know she isn’t going to be walking around? He either doesn’t know what happened or Jefferson made him believe that he killed Rachel.

Even when you choose to blame Nathan for Kate, this is what happens. “Too bad you already made a convincing argument against Nathan in the Principal's office. Thank you so much for setting him up for me.”

When it comes to Rachel and Jefferson, it was obvious it was not love, it was Jefferson’s obsession with her. Rachel saw him as her way to LA. She wanted to have her pictures modeled by a professional, which he was, but Rachel never saw him for what he was. A sheep in wolf’s clothing, a monster. He saw her as the perfect subject. A human chameleon with many visual possibilities and he felt they had a connection. Manipulating her into believing that he is the father figure that James never was for her. Rachel wrote a letter to Chloe in the shack but discarded it. She feels that he changed her life but the discarded letter shows that she felt ashamed about the whole relationship.

Her shame indicates that she was apart of the Dark Room as a consenting subject. At first she just saw it as a big photography project outside of school, but then Rachel started to look into Jefferson’s past models and figured out something was terribly wrong. In Jefferson’s own words “Not like Rachel, who was always looking in the wrong places. Poor Rachel.” Jefferson of course finds out because The Dark Room is under 24 hours surveillance. So out of fear of Rachel telling everyone, Jefferson kills Rachel, doses Nathan and poses Nathan’s unconscious body with Rachel’s lifeless body. Stella believes they had sex, but I think it is more than likely that Jeffershit dosed her and raped her. He said “Rachel was in love with me” but how is there any truth to that? All Jefferson has done the entire game is manipulate and gaslight. There was no love, there was just Jefferson’s sick and twisted perverted obsession with corrupting innocence. And you could even say Jefferson was projecting onto Nathan when he said “dumbass gave her an overdose” “it was too bad Nathan fell in lust with Rachel”

The game never says Nathan didn’t kill Rachel, but there is so much evidence throughout the game to suggest that he didn’t kill her. I personally do not feel inclined to believe the word of a lying sociopath who definitely killed several people, and is still responsible for what happened to Rachel, Kate, Chloe and then Max.

[greenwaterskeeter]

i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

[brattydoctorcrane]

Light Yagami is a Fucking Moron: An Analysis of Light Yagami’s Actions and Their Consequences According to Current Psychological Research

Let me begin by saying that this is going to be long, and I’m going to be writing this more in the style of a lecture as opposed to a straight through scientific paper. I enjoy humor and don’t want to completely bore you with heavy talk, so I will have moments that are biased, sarcastic, and intended for entertainment. The research itself, however, does not have my same biases and will be condemning Light for not actually researching what the hell he was doing, at least in the United States. On top of all of this, please feel free to message me if you want one of the articles/books, and I will do my best to get you a copy! With that being said, let’s jump on in.

DISCLAIMER: This is all based on the United States. I’m not here to argue, I just like talking about psych and law and DN. This is purely for fun and it’s meant to be a little silly. I am not writing this to be a scientific paper by any means. If you’d like me to expand on anything, feel free to ask me! Thank you!

Light is hailed all through out Death Note as being this extremely intelligent, well thought out person. We’re told he is smart, cool, and charming, but what if I were to say he’s actually not these things? Well, maybe he’s charming, but that’s for another discussion. When he picks up the notebook, he seems somewhat altruistic in saying he will kill criminals to deter other criminals to make the world safer. Except there’s a problem. A big one.

The death penalty… Doesn’t conclusively deter crime (Nagin et. al, 2012).

Currently, within the psychological community, there is large debate as to the effectiveness of the death penalty and whether it is therefore even useful. Some studies say yes, some say no, and some say that they have no idea. Nagin et. al breaks down the issues and problems inherent in many of the studies and why we can’t conclusively say anything. Not only is it extremely difficult to extract out variables (do noncapital punishments deter crime? What about home factors? Social supports?), but many studies only look at specific geographic areas (Nagin et. al, 2012). This is based on the research of approximately the last thirty years! Thirty! And yet, we can’t say one way or the other whether it actually affects the amount of crime committed.

So, 0 for Light, 1 for research.

But at least he’s killing criminals, right? Er. Sure. I suppose, as a whole, he kills many more criminals. Unfortunately, though, I would say he’s probably killing many more innocents than he cares to believe. The conservative estimate from the Innocence Project is that it’s 1% of the US Prison Population. Now, I think it’s fair to use the US here, since given how involved the US is in Death Note, and our high as hell incarceration rate, Light likely kills many US criminals. Within the US, however, 1% of our prison population means 20,000 people, and this is the conservative estimate (Innocence Project, 2011)! Fucking conservative! This means Light likely killed many more innocents than he truly believed, especially considering how he didn’t, y’know, have the circumstances surrounding arrests, confessions, etc. He would have no way of determining for himself if he truly believed someone deserved punishment or not, and I just don’t see that as moral or altruistic myself.

To dive a little further in on this point and why I harp on it, it’s very important to consider evidence. I’ll talk about confessions in a minute, when I also talk about Misa (you can see where that one’s going), but let’s hone in on evidence. For specifically sexual assault charges, which we know Light abhors, DNA exoneration makes up 63% of all their exonerations (Gross et. al, 2012). Hell, DNA makes up 37% of all exonerations, and we cannot ignore that half of all exonerees are black (Gross et. al, 2012). Eyewitnesses are also nowhere near as reliable as we like to believe, and can be influenced in several ways (Loftus, 2019). (Please note the Loftus paper is a summation of findings from many studies of hers and others. I highly recommend reading her research as it’s so important to the law.) Light has no way of knowing why and how the criminal was convicted. At all. So, he just doesn’t bother. The type of evidence and amount of evidence is so important to a crime, as well as the criminal’s race, since there have been and will continue to be cases that are decided based on shoestring amounts of it.

Light, my man. You’re 0 for 2.

After this declaration of altruism, he then tries to evade capture. Which, I don’t know about y’all, but that doesn’t exactly scream altruism (though by this point he also wants to be GOD so, grain of salt I suppose). However, what Light doesn’t realize as he does supremely convoluted things to avoid other supremely convoluted things is that… Dude. They wouldn’t fucking. Accept any of the evidence they would supposedly have against you. Illegally obtained video of the house is just that. ILLEGAL. It’d be inadmissible in court (at least, of course, in the United States). If L can show me his fucking warrant, then we’ll talk, but otherwise that’s inadmissible evidence. As well as Misa’s potential confession.

Oh, Misa. You have such scary tendencies towards stalking behaviors. But at least your confession would’ve been entirely inadmissible.

Let’s talk about torture and coerced confessions!

First let me define a coerced confession for everyone, just to be on the same page (though y’all probably know what it is). A coerced confession is a confession that was made against one’s free will or involuntarily. To be honest, I Googled the definition, because I needed something short and succinct. This means that a coerced confession isn’t always through obvious brute force, and in fact means so long as it wasn’t voluntary in any way, shape, or form, the confession is useless. The legal definition of torture (again, also Googled for something succinct) is “any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a person for such purposes as obtaining from him or a third person information or a confession.” Thank you, Association for the Prevention of Torture. For obvious reasons, both torture and coerced confessions are very much illegal.

Whew, lets break up this huge paragraph. Torture, on top of being illegal, also doesn’t yield accurate information from the person being tortured (Costanzo et. al, 2009). “The goal was to appease the torturer, not to reveal the truth,” Costanzo et. al writes (2009). Sure, some truthful information is revealed, but as a whole it is ineffective. I think it’s safe to say Misa was tortured (that straight jacket and not giving her water for several days gave it away), so immediately I would question the accuracy of anything she says. Especially as she offers to do whatever Mr. Stalker wants if she can just leave.

Her confession, had she confessed, would’ve been very blatantly coerced, too. Interestingly enough, L is actually using a less effective method of interrogation than he could be. L appears to use what is called an accusatorial method of interrogation. Accusatorial methods are based on control, psychological manipulation, and the primary goal is confession (Meissner et. al, 2014). Sound familiar? What he should have been using is an information-gathering method. Information-gathering methods are based on establishing rapport, using direct and positive confrontation, and the primary goal is elicitation (Meissner et. al, 2014). The information-gathering method is shown to be nearly as good at eliciting a confession, but it does not elicit as many false confessions as the accusatorial method (Meissner et. al, 2014).

So, Misa here is being tortured, and then even if you say she wasn’t, then she’s clearly being coerced. If you somehow still say she wasn’t coerced, then L’s use of the accusatorial method still makes me say double check her confession. So really, that confession is fucked. Light didn’t have to go through the entire thing of confinement, when his ass was in the clear all along.

Light is now 0 for 3, and L is 0 for 1.

Considering I’ve already got Light at 0 for 3, I’m going to lay off him a little. He makes so many of these same mistakes over, and over, and over again throughout the entire manga, even pulling more people into it (hi, Takada and Mikami, who would’ve also been coerced confessions). I’ll go more into detail about the second half later, but for now I’ll pause, and ask what should Light have done instead? What should he have done that would’ve been more effective? What about L and Misa?

The answer is, of course, not whatever the fuck he did do.

I suppose I should start with a caveat. The DN Universe may be fundamentally different than our own outside of shinigamis and such. Perhaps these are admissible confessions in the DN world, maybe killing people did deter crime (as is stated at one point, actually), and maybe L’s interrogation methods aren’t highly questionable. Who knows. This is a fictional world after all.

But if we assume the DN Universe is like our own and isn’t a hellscape, then I would’ve recommended a few things. Personally, I think Light should’ve focused more on supports for criminals instead. Unfortunately, a large part of the research is focused more on if something deters crime rather than how, especially given the issues in trying to even determine what variables are at play. But it feels personally more humanitarian to offer supports, and I feel as if that would be of more help than a death penalty that views itself above the law.

Secondly, Light needed to at the very goddamn least have seen the evidence himself. He prides himself so much on being so smart an yet… He’s so dumb, y’all. He relied on others’ judgements when he should’ve only relied on his own. This way, he stays on top of who in the fuck he’s actually killing, why he’s actually killing them, and if they were innocent (in his view) or not. It’s just almost common sense.

Finally, Light should’ve just let it play out. Seriously. He needed to just sit on his ass and watch as L made himself out to be unfit and coercive. Because L is not fit for his job and needs to be removed from it. Torture is disallowed by even the fucking Geneva Conventions, L. The argument would be that Light wanted to maintain his status with the others though, too, but I think that L being declared unfit would’ve solved that. You can’t trust a single fucking thing coming out of L’s mouth, period. Especially not when he’s so aggressive and horrific to his suspects.

And so, with the evidence stacked before us I have to say… Light Yagami is a moron. He should’ve done some research (I know I cite things that would’ve been post Kira, but these debates have been going on for years, y’all) before he did his Kira thing.

Below I’m putting my references for the articles/books, but not in APA format and in the order they appear. That would take a bit of time, and I’m doing this for free and on my own time. If you want more information on them, you can message me. Thanks!

Daniel S. Nagin and John V. Peppers, Deterrence and the Death Penalty. 2012. They’re actually the editors, just an FYI, and this book is available online!

Innocence Project (link) in 2011!

Samuel R. Gross and Michael Shaffer, Exonerations in the United States. 2012. This one is also available online at the Social Science Research Network!

Elizabeth Loftus, Eyewitness Testimony. 2019. (link)

Christian A. Meissner and many others, Accusatorial and information-gathering interrogation methods and their effects on true and false confessions: a meta-analytic review. 2014.

Mark A. Costanzo and Ellen Gerrity, The Effects and Effectiveness of Using Torture as an Interrogation Device: Using Research to Inform the Policy Debate. 2009.