#like. that Judging. the knowledge of himself as someone to blame

[orcelito]

Giving myself emotions bc

This song is so painfully an akechi song. POV is a bit more disputable. Maybe a less forgiving Akira, maybe an omniscient third party,

Or MAYBE. Akechi himself.

It's a big ow when you think about it from that pov

[zev-rynna]

I am made aware of the controversy around Jiyan on how he became the general and the terrible story writing from the writers part.

Jiyan has been called names like “Run-away General”, “The Faux General” etc etc, and the complaints that Jiyan is a hypocritical character that judged Geshu Lin’s decision making and yet made the exact same decision Geshu Lin made in the end.

Honestly speaking, I don’t doubt the possibility of terrible writing on Kuro’s part but I wonder if this also reflected the complexity of human nature in the sense that there’s just no perfectly evil/bad person (in this case Geshu Lin) or the perfectly good/right person (in this case Jiyan)? Maybe it was written this way, but wasn’t properly done? Idk..

This is going to be long, bear with me…

Geshu fought the battle and was almost winning, and he has lost too many people to back off. And in his “conversation” with Jiyan, he did also highlighted that backing down and running away will not do justice to all those lives he carried behind his back. It’s true, when it’s war, if you decide to back down knowing you could’ve won, you have nothing to explain to those who have lost their lives in previous battles. Geshu Lin carried all those lives with him, and in his knowledge, the retroact rain’s effect was relatively unknown to him, and his arrogance or overconfidence may have resulted in him disregarding the significance and danger of the unknown. And Geshu Lin was born a warrior, fighting to win battles also means sacrifices have to be made, and therefore his actions reflected his values.

On the other hand, Jiyan was born a medic. His values revolved around saving lives, and the purpose of winning certain battles is to ensure better lives for his people. So if a war caused too many sacrifices, is that war still considered a win for his people? And so with his knowledge and his instincts on the catastrophe that may happen due to the retroact rain, with no Geshu Lin in sight, he made the choice to save as many people as he can by ordering a retreat. I believe at that point, he has no intention to override Geshu Lin’s authority or to made Geshu Lin the “bad guy”, but solely to save the people left to save before they all perished.

But the society (Jinzhou citizens) will need someone to blame. This is the reflection of how humans are like. When loss is too big and incomprehensible, the tendencies to blame become prevalent. In that situation, without knowing all sorts of context, Geshu Lin led to the death of the people and Jiyan was the one who ensured lives saved. Jiyan naturally became the hero and Geshu Lin the villain.

I don’t believe that Jiyan personally wanted to reprimand Geshu Lin or try to taint his reputation so it can make his “promotion” to General more believable. Yes he did not agree with Geshu Lin’s ideals, but I don’t think the whole “Geshu Lin was the cause of this tragedy” talk was started by him. It was the people who needed a hero and someone to blame during the difficult times. Then he was chosen to be General, and when you get to a position like that, confiding in people to tell them how you truly feel becomes a luxury because people start to rely on you and in order for them to respect you and able to lead an army, you have to be composed, and mask all forms of doubts.

When Rover came as prophesised, Jiyan was seen having a “conversation” with Geshu Lin before the war, and Jiyan was mostly quiet on his part. You can sense his doubts manifesting as he is about to make the exact same decision Geshu Lin made years ago, and he questions himself. But then again, Jiyan was flamed incredibly cuz of the irony that he did in fact made the same decision Geshu Lin did, but Jiyan was in the luxury to make that decision knowing what he knew, and having Rover by his side made the odds significantly better. And this was what made the fans/anti-fans so bitter about Jiyan because this was pure hypocrisy at play, especially it made Jiyan looked weak cuz everyone knew the outcome may have been the same as years ago if Rover was not present. But that’s the thing, if Rover was absent, I don’t think Jiyan would’ve made the decision he made.

The tragedy was that Geshu Lin was too quick to be burnt on the stake by people who were desperate to find closure. And the situation Geshu Lin was in, made this grey in the sense that no one truly knew what happened at the war zone and Geshu Lin did not have everything that the people know now about the Retroact rain and Rover to made the war of his time a success. Jiyan has that, that was his luck. But how does one blame Jiyan for that? After all, luck is an also huge component of strength. And probably (just a speculation) - the irony of Jiyan making the same decision as Geshu Lin may be a foreshadowing of Geshu Lin’s return to mock the hypocrisy of the entire ordeal, including the people who blamed him.

The whole situation where Geshu Lin was strongly blamed as the villain and Jiyan was depicted as the hero and the best person ever was so overly exaggerated, I don’t think this was what Jiyan meant for to happen. And I know a lot of people say that “well but Jiyan took all those compliments bla bla”. But he was promoted to general though, he cannot just come out and disregard what people said about him because he needed these people’s vote of confidence, and during those dark times, he is in no position to show any form of doubts. But it doesn’t mean that he didn’t mourn the loss of respect and reputation of Geshu Lin when he’s alone.

I’m upset Jiyan got too much hate for this. This was a perfect depiction of how complex humans are and how things cannot be black and white. It’s so nuance that I’m not sure if I properly explained it in words.

Then again, I really like Jiyan’s character, although I have the admit, the writing was terribly done, which may have caused so much backlash cuz of all the unsaid things. I felt that with a little bit more of explanation on the plot and Jiyan’s thought process would’ve significantly helped with Jiyan’s character building. Now Geshu Lin is so well loved cuz everyone felt that Jiyan stole all that belonged to him. I wouldn’t say Geshu Lin was entirely innocent despite the fault of the people who were quick to blame him, but that’s for another day.

Again, there isn’t a perfectly evil person, just like there isn’t a perfectly good person. People are complicated and one action does not justify the other.

[scoobydoodean]

losing my entire marbles at deancrits saying he's abusive bc he was parentified like????? a) do you know what parentification IS and b) tell me you dont have real problems without telling me

anw heres a pretty pic of dean w glasses that im obsessed with to help cope w all the anons

DEAN IN GLASSES!!!!

Someone just put it very very plainly in Courtney's inbox, but we all knew Dean's parentification was the force underlying the take that Dean has power over Sam... didn't we? ...I mean. I guess I can't speak for anyone else exactly, but I've written about how Dean's parentification is the driving force behind the narrative that Dean is abusive several times this year alone. In fact, before that anon clarified their meaning, I'd already done it for them.

Hardcore samgirls and others with this take on Dean seem to think Deangirls just "don't understand" the "power imbalance" in play. They think we've just never thought about their perspective, but... they actually just don't understand ours? They don't understand that what is absolutely vile and repulsive about their view is that it begins and ends with the perpetuation of Dean's childhood abuse.

One of the greatest horrors of parentification as a form of abuse is that it involves the illusion of power. It ascribes "power" to a child that that child does not actually have, and then judges that child for mishandling that "power".

"Something Wicked" is a great example of this. John blames Dean for Sam getting hurt, based on a lie that Dean had the power to stop the shtriga. In reality, Dean couldn't have done anything even if he'd been there, because the idea that he had power was nothing more than an illusion. He was far too young and inexperienced to be expected to carry through with a seasoned soldier's battle temperament when faced with a terrifying monster, but that isn't even the most direct expression of the illusion of Dean's power. His shotgun is. To harm a shtriga, you have to have iron-consecrated bullets. Dean did not have a weapon that could have harmed the shtriga. The gun only provides an illusion of power. When John blamed him, and Dean blamed himself—both did so because of a lie that Dean had power in a situation where Dean had absolutely none.

John blames Dean because he doesn't want to take responsibility for his own power and authority. He doesn't want to live with the fact that he had the knowledge, temperament, experience, role of protector, and consecrated bullets... but just wasn't there when Sam and Dean needed him. So he assigns all of the power and authority to Dean. Dean had the power. Dean made the wrong choices. Dean got Sam hurt. It wasn't John's choices or John's absence that nearly got Sam killed. John was helpless.

Every single time that samgirls claim Dean holds power over Sam through parentification, they refer to an illusion used to scapegoat a child for the actions of another. They assign Dean "power" over Sam that Dean does not actually have and then judge him for mishandling that "power".

The idea that Dean has authority over Sam through his childhood parentification is a lie. It is an illusion born from abuse. And when Sam occasionally decides he is unhappy with the outcome of the choices he made and doesn't want to face his own culpability, he does exactly what John did to Dean, because the poison drips down. Sam watched John treat Dean as if he possessed authority and power Dean didn't have for 18 years and some change. He learned how to assign Dean the same false authority and power and he learned Dean would absorb it, and now Samgirls want Dean to "curb that shit", while Sam blames Dean for his own choices in episodes like 1.10, 1.22, 5.04. In reality, there is no power imbalance.

Even if we want to argue that the false perception of Dean's power created the potential for an extremely toxic relationship regardless of whether the power is real or not, Dean would hardly be guaranteed the handle side of the knife. Sam has more than proven he can put that blade to Dean's throat.

[creepy-feathers]

Hi are you still doing the when they find out your ticklish thing? If so can you maybe do EJ? I feel like he’d be very doctor-ish about it :p

I am indeed still doing them! I've just been very slow :')

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Okay, so personality-wise, my version of Jack isn’t all that different from many others’ - he’s quiet, calm, mature, and likes his solitude, spending most of the time either in the infirmary or in his room, when he isn't on missions or hunting for food, of course.

He's a stoic person that keeps his emotions and thoughts to himself, and that means that when the incident happened, he acted like he didn't care. And, honestly, he kind of didn't. A lot of people are ticklish, why would it surprise him?

He had been doing some physical assessments on you to make sure your minor injury was healing alright, and he used his fingers to put pressure on your stomach, asking if there was any pain.

You simply shook your head with a flushed face, hand over your mouth to control the noises threatening to fly out. He did that multiple times in different areas until you were a certified mess of pathetically-suppressed giggles, fighting every ounce of you to not wriggle around too much. He was only doing his job, it wasn't his fault. Still, that didn't make it any less unbearable.

His total lack of reaction made you wonder if he even noticed your hyper-sensitivity, then came to the conclusion that he must have. You were being way too obvious. Thankfully, he didn't seem eager to comment or remember the encounter.

At least, that's what had been initially assumed.

Turns out, Jack is dutifully perceptive and did, in fact, store the tidbit of knowledge away in the back of his mind. Always nice to know random things about the people you live with, right?

He didn’t feel the desire to actually use it until after the two of you had grown quite a bit closer and you had walked into the infirmary one day to keep him some company since you didn’t have anything else to do that evening.

He had been sitting in his chair, writing something of importance in a binder, when you walked up behind him and leaned over his shoulder to observe his work. He didn't really mind the proximity, nor was he bothered by the innocent questions you were asking; in fact, it felt nice that someone was genuinely interested in one of his passions.

This unfamiliar feeling struck a playful chord within him, and he laid his pen down and swiveled his chair around until he was facing you, earning a mildly puzzled smile.

"Jack? Ya done already?"

"For now. Your voice is very engaging."

You tilted your head and grinned suspiciously, placing your hands on the handles of his seat and letting it support your weight. "I feel like that's just a nice way of blaming me for distracting you."

"Nah." His black, soulless sockets met your e/c eyes, his voice taking on a mischievous tone. "Hey, how have you been feeling lately?"

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion. "Uhh...what do you mean?"

“Ah, ya know. You doing well? There’s no pain here...or here?”

As he said those words, he lightly jabbed a couple of his fingers into different areas of your belly, prompting you to release a startled squeak and take a couple of steps backward, wrapping your arms around yourself for protection. “Mm-mm, nope. N-no pain there, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” If one listened closely enough, they’d be able to hear the devious smile lying behind his mask. “Cause it seemed like you were pretty eager to get away. Maybe I should do another assessment—“

“Heh, no Jack, I—I already said I’m okay. Thank you.”

“I don’t know... Judging by that reaction, I think there might be something else afoot.” Before you could get out of reach, he extended his arms and pulled you closer, and you were no match for his superhuman strength. “I’m gonna put pressure on some spots, and I need you to honestly tell me whether it hurts or not.”

Your heart sped up in fear, but you couldn’t say more than his name before a huff flew from between your lips, caused by his prodding the center of your stomach. He tilted his head.

"You flinched. Was it painful?"

"No!" Biting the interior of your cheek, you desperately tried to squirm away, shaking your head. "N-no, it doesn't hurt or anything, I—I swear."

"Then why are you acting that way?" His tone was laced with faux concern, and you were beginning to genuinely fear for your safety. Your attempt at a sentence spiraled out of control when his hand spidered up the side of your torso, and you shoved yourself away with much more force than necessary.

"S-sensitive! That's all, you—you don't have to worry."

He appeared to be contemplating your words as you leisurely backed up, guarding yourself with a hug. "That doesn't seem very convincing."

"B-but..." That's when you noted it. The amusement in his voice. He was doing this on purpose.

Shit.

Your eyes darted over to the door; your exit, your only hope. He picked up on your thoughts and folded his arms across his chest. "What's the matter? You look scared."

"I-I'm not!" you sputtered, weighing out your chances. If you ran, he'd surely catch you. If you didn't run, he'd pounce. Worth trying, right? So you took off in a hasty sprint, your anxiety growing when you heard the creaking of an office chair, soon followed by the skidding of shoes as they hammered across the floor. You were doomed.

A strong arm looped around your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks, and your blood turned cold. You didn't have much of a chance to string together a plea, however, because his free hand found your ribcage and skittered across its surface in a manner that made you shriek.

"Jack, w-wait!"

"I thought it didn't hurt?" he had the nerve to say, and you grew flustered as he brushed against a particularly sensitive area at the top of your abdomen.

"Stohop!"

"Your reactions are concerning, Y/n."

You squirmed like mad and kicked helplessly, your laughter going up an octave as he kneaded your hips.

He did stop after another minute or so, chuckling fondly and supporting you while you gathered your composure so you wouldn't tumble to the floor.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized, mirth lacing his words as you stood straight again and shot him a hollow glare. "Don't know what got into me."

"Uh-huh."

[hostdoozy]

A funny detail about Cloak & Swaggart

A common misconception spread around regarding the episode "Cloak & Swaggart" is that Rupert is the theft when in actuality- he's isn't. While Rupert is definitely not above such petty actions like thievery. In this case, he's very much innocent.

-OKAY OKAY PUT YOUR TOMATEOS DOWN! I KNOW HE'S BRITISH! Stop booing at me! BUT YOUR HONOUR! My client is innocent of this specific instance.

(Read more below)

In "Cloak and Swaggart" our favourite Girlboss duo go out partying after Splinter and his boys are off "camping". They are having the time of their lives, simply gals being pals.Yet something disastrous happens on girl's night leading to being the driving force of today's misadventure. Sunita's Brooch is stolen by a mysterious assailant. We know the thief of identity is unknown by judging the shape of their hand.

One could argue that this was an animation decision made by the team to make the twist a little more fun but this makes no sense from a narrative standpoint. Mr Loose Lips can't be the thief because A) look at his hands B) He isn't a Yokai or a mutant- he's never seen dawning a brooch indicating he may have an alternative form. Rupert can't be the thief because The Pigman has an alibi. This alibi is confirmed by Mr loose lips himself.

"Look kid, my clients suspect a certain level of discretion. Yea' think I'm just gonna tell yea that the brooch was bought by some big guy with a thick neck and an upturned nose an' paper hat, on his way to channel 6 ln a late-model charcoal grey stretch limousine?" If Rupert was the theft, then why would he bother showing up to Mr loose lips in the first place? it makes no sense. Even if we were to entertain the idea that this was a commission's work- it still wouldn't make sense. Rupert Swaggert in this regard, is innocent. He had no clue that the brooch belonged to someone else upon buying it. Keep in mind, that the British bastard had never met April or Suntia before this.

This makes the Episode even MORE funnier when you look through his lenses.

He can return to his old career which he suddenly lost due to his mutation. He finally found the means to take back his old life but within ONE DAY- Rupert was harassed by two teenagers, whom he had never met before EVER in his life. (then nearly got eaten by some yanks) From his perspective: He got robbed by some teens- for no reason

Before I close this off. I worry that some folks take away from the post is me shifting the blame onto April and Suntia which... no, I'm not. They're well within their right to take back a family heirloom which belongs to Sunita. besides They're TEENAGERS. Do you think April gonna go over to a known dangerous mutant and be like "Ermm, can we have that brooch back? " OF COURSE NOT. don't be insane. These girls deserve a crown.

What I'm doing is pointing out the hilarity of this scenario. We are all familiar with who Rupert is. He's an oversized porky jackass that has no problem committing extreme acts for his own benefit. We are SO used to his shittiness that putting "stealing from teenage girls" on his list of crimes wouldn't be out of the question. The only thing is... he didn't commit that here. Dude tried to get his old job back only to have some teenager mess with his life again. he never met them and to his knowledge, the Brooch was something he purchased.

So the Verdict?

Rupert is innocent in regards to Suntia's stolen brooch

As for everything else? all his other crimes? Guilty. Put this man away your honour.

case closed

[twsted-idiot]

Welcome to the family.

hes jus a lil baby :3 aka Rae when he first started living w the family. Gore(??) Mentioned/described

Rae stared down at his plate, he could practically feel his throat burning, stomach churning. Admittedly, the food wasn't gross, it was simply the knowledge that there was human flesh in it that made him feel sick. The blonde suppressed the urge to gag. He could feel everyone else's eyes on him, including three people he hadn't seen, as if they were judging him, though he tried to blame it on the bandages on the right side of his face.

Drayton's eyes narrowed, fixed on the younger boy. Although he seemed apathetic and almost angry that the boy was surprising the urge to throw up, he pitied the blonde. Naturally, he hadn't grown up eating people, like everyone else, so understandably it made him sick to his stomach.

A shaky breath escaped his lips, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

"Don't force yerself if you can't stomach it yet."

Drayton's voice caught him off guard, his breathing hitching, "No, I can, I just—"

The oldest of the Sawyer siblings had already grabbed the blondes plate before he could finish. As cruel as he could be, he wasn't going to watch the poor boy force himself to eat it if he couldn't handle it yet. He knew well enough that it was simply the knowledge that there was human flesh in it that made it hard.

Rae shifted a bit in his seat, he could practically feel everyone's gazes on him. Despite the fact they’d just slaughtered his friends not that long ago, and nearly killed him as well…no one seemed particularly hostile. It was odd. He’d barely survived, hell, he honestly wasn’t sure if this was even real or not. His head was pounding, the sound of metal scraping against bone—his bone replayed in his mind ofer and over in the silence, making him shudder.

He didn't remember much, all he could remember at the moment was running out the front door, finally escaping the nauseating smell of rotting flesh, only to end up tripping when he'd nearly gotten to the end of the driveway. All he could think about was that behemoth that'd stood over him, chainsaw in hand, the engine revving loudly. Had he not managed to move in time, he would've died. However he didn't manage to survive without any damage..the bloody mess that was hidden under the bandages would always be a reminder, even when it healed, it'd leave a nasty scar.

That's what he remembered most vividly at least, after that he remembered bits and pieces of being thrown over someone's shoulder, brought back into the house, and tied up to a chair at the end of the table he sat at now. He'd probably been slipping in and out of consciousness at the time, so he didn't really remember much of it. Just the blood and tears running down his face, unable to really do much to fight back. It was a wonder he was still alive.

It'd probably been a week since then, at most. It was foggy, but he could somewhat remember being in one of the rooms, tied to a bed so he couldn't try to get away (not that he really would've been able to), and that tall man occasionally going in and out of the room, though he had a different outfit on, as well as a mask that had appeared to have makeup on—the same one he had on now.

A sharp elbow to his ribs made him since slightly, tensing up a bit, a gruff voice was a southern lilt to it catching his attention, bringing him back to the moment, "Don't you worry yer pretty little head, 'm sure you'll fit in just fine once that nasty gash in yer face heals."

[joannerowling]

On the issue with James, I do think this is one area where the books aren’t ageless and have to be read in the context of an English school in the 70s written by an author in the 90s. Because by today’s standards, James is less of your garden variety ‘boys will be boys’ type bully and more of an actual sociopath well past the age of criminal responsibility who by 16 had committed one public sexual assault and was an accessory to attempted murder who backed out last second. But I don’t think that’s at all what Jo meant to convey.

Let me guess. Snape fan? :P

Look, my issue with this discourse has always been that only James seems to get so much flack for his most morally ambiguous actions. I mean, Hermione disfigured a girl her age with zits spelling "sneak" because she'd given the DA members out to Umbridge. Harry nearly gored Malfoy to death by using an unknown spell he knew was meant "for enemies". Yet, i've never seen anyone hating on James that would go as hard against these other characters.

On your first point: James wasn't an accessory to attempted murder who backed out last second. Sirius was the one who tricked Snape and nearly got him killed (which would have made Lupin an accessory to murder). James acted to stop it as soon as he realised what Sirius had done. His reasons for doing so remain obscure - Snape thinks he wanted to save his own skin because he would have been blamed alongside Sirius, but that's Snape's interpretation, not exactly the most unbiased source.

Next: i ressent people misusing the term "sexual assault" to describe what James does in Snape's worst memory (a take that, btw, i've only seen upheld as if it were common knowledge by Americans, or very "Americanised" fans). The definition of sexual assault is "unwanted sexual contact", and in the UK especially it pretty much means "rape without penetration". I do think Jo meant for it to be taken seriously (its parallel with the Muggles's treatment by Death Eaters in GoF is clear), only people didn't really at the time. Still. James humiliated Snape, i'd say what he did qualifies as sexual harrassment, and he's rightfully painted as the bad guy in that episode, but he didn't sexually assault Snape.

Also, because we only have that one scene to work with, everyone seems to forget the larger context, namely: Snape created that spell. Judging by the way Death Eaters were still using it 15+ years later, i imagine James wasn't the first nor the last in his generation to use it against another student. I always saw it as a bit analogous to those dangerous/humiliating games that suddenly become trendy with high schoolers until someone gets hurt enough for adults to intervene. I'm comforted in that interpretation by the fact that Snape implies James didn't even know HE was the one to invent the spell, suggesting it started as a thing Snape showed to other Slytherins to gain some social cred, which then spread to the whole school.

Anyways, if that makes James a sociopath, then Hogwarts must have been chock-full of them in the 70s, starting with Snape himself. Maybe the point isn't that Snape or James (or Sirius) are sociopaths, but that imminent war tends to turn people more prone to violence and less likely to abide by moral principles, or consider their designated enemies's humanity. I have no doubt that James morally justified himself and his actions by the fact that Snape belonged to the "bad crowd" of Voldemort's future recruits. Even though we readers know enough about Snape to be able to tell that he was never seriously convinced by Pure Blood superiority.

[retrodreamgirl]

seasons of becoming: summer | steve harrington x fem!reader

spring | summer | fall | winter

summary: summer is bees buzzing in the buds of sunflowers tall in lined fields, lazing about in the yard or by the nearest pool for the perfect tan, it's the smell of wet asphalt in the steamy heat after a torrential storm, it's hotdogs on the grill and corn on the cob, sneaking fireworks to the safest corner of Hawkins (probably joyce byers' backyard bc hopper is so smitten he won't do a thing), it's laughing with friends and cursing the things unrequited in spare time. for steve harrington summer includes days spent in his backyard with found family, packing coolers and absolutely not staring at the semi-new edition to the group, half baked invitations to stargazing, choco chip banana cookies, his first constellation (or was it an asterism?), and sleeping under the stars with you. [5k]

warnings: fem!reader, fluff, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, me using my minimal knowledge about astronomy, not proofed or edited

⤜♡→

Steve finds you in the midst of summer. 

It’s a hot one in Hawkins, record breaking some might say. The sticky heat and packed pools are not nearly as appealing as they may have been in your younger years. You’re altogether withdrawn from the distorted jumble of ice cream trucks tantalizing the light pockets of small town youth and pickup games lining cul-de-sacs or a small table in someone’s basement. 

You’d somehow found yourself a permanent staple. When you weren’t wrapping gift boxes and tending to the flowers not yet dead from the scalding temperament of the hot season you could often be found lounging with an orange creamsicle between red stained lips in Steve Harrington’s backyard. 

There seemed a spot carved especially for you in the lounger half obscured from the sun by a shady tree for most of the day. That is when you weren’t being dragged into the pool by Lucas or entirely occupied by adolescent gossip with El and Max.

It seemed unfair to Steve who was left to the occupation of restocking coolers with cold cans lest anyone brave the cold tile of his kitchen to get something for themselves.

It was there, a can of coca cola lukewarm in his grip, that he saw you for the first time. 

It’s a lame excuse to claim the round of his retinas blind to you leading up to now. He won’t claim your beauty as something that snuck up, but he will claim it as something he never thought quite suited him. 

You’re the epitome of a warm welcome, eyes always widened with the intonation of rapt attentiveness, lips even in a way that allowed the event of falling flat if something seemed especially scathing, or mocking the upward curve of sliced melon if he said just the right thing. You were never judging or claiming to know something that wasn’t abundant in clarity, offering him a clean slate to present himself as he is rather than defending who he was. 

Unfortunately, though a rather subjective take as it were because perhaps it's fairly fortunate for him to catch on but unfortunate in the measurement of his self worth, Steve knows himself to maintain an inch of the discourtesy that controlled him before civility kicked in. 

So how not to notice you with your left leg perched so your painted toes tuck beneath your sun kissed thighs, the flesh bare leading up to your bathing suit of a color complimentary to the warmth of your skin. 

Your creamsicle is nearly down to the stick, you’re laughing at something Robin’s said and Steve swallows hard when your head tilts back to expose the lengthy column of your neck.

He’s clammy. He wants to blame it on the heat or maybe the lame cold he’d been nursing a week ago, but this feels nothing like the dewy sickness that accumulated on his neck to accompany the slimy post nasal drip that cost him nearly four tissue boxes.

You’d been there then too, but he was too busy not noticing to notice the trouble. The soup you whipped up was homemade, chicken noodle with fresh carrots and celery swimming around in the broth. You brought it to him in a heavy container, far too much soup for one person but somehow he’d eaten it all that week. You didn’t seem slighted when he barely managed a thank you, but rather combed your fingers through his sweat soaked scalp and offered a cold press to sooth the hollow ache in his bones.

“Dude, this is just sad.” Dustin stalks over, snatching the can from Steve, squinting at the warmth and shoving it into the cooler in exchange for one freshly iced. 

“What?” 

“She’s in your backyard and you still can’t talk to her.” 

“What are you talking about?” Irritation was never Steve’s strong suit when it came to fending off the gaggle of children he’s thoughtlessly accumulated over the years. They only brush it off their chests, rebounding to their initial burden of nursing him through the film of inadequacy that’s somehow come to overshadow the strong shouldered seductor that lay beneath. 

They’re all too similar is what Steve came up with early on, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to tame them with a well placed mark of sarcasm or a gentle punt to their strong egos.

It’s not like they don’t return it in kind, sometimes ten fold.

“Oh, so we’re going with complete ignorance. Fine. But Lucas is gonna kick your ass if you hurt her feelings.” 

“Yeah, I’d like to see him try. Anyways, why would I hurt her feelings? I’m just loading a cooler.” He makes a show of it, avoiding your side of the yard, shoving as many cans as possible into the geometric casing. Both parties are well aware of the childish back and forth, but Dustin is the one who relents first, grabbing an extra can and sauntering over to you. 

Steve follows him, plopping to the edge of your lounge chair with his shoulders hunched over. He glances through the blinding beam of sunlight attempting to cut through his pupils when your heel prods at his naked back. Your head is tilted to your shoulder, brow arched. 

“Something wrong?” You’re teasing, the glint in your eye calling on him directly. Dustin covertly drags Robin to the edge of the pool, both of them close enough to eavesdrop but far enough away for a private moment. 

“Nope. How many of those are you gonna eat?” He reclines, holding himself up on his elbows allowing your legs to envelope his slender frame, and taps the stick hanging from the corner of your mouth. It’s your third one today, not that he actually cares, but he does enjoy the way you shift, dragging the orange dyed wood along the crease of your lips. 

“I don’t know, they’re good. Is three too many?” He considers you a moment too long, the way your fingers deftly twirl the popsicle stick between your teeth so he can see your tongue poking through the gap. Your eyes have widened a fraction, like it’s an important matter, the number of popsicles deemed acceptable on any occasion.

“Have the whole box for all I care, s’just ice cream.” He pinches your thigh, taking a moment to revel in the way it feels soft and tender beneath his fingers. The instance is longer in his head, but in reality it's truly one that’s fleeting in effect to the way you screech and shove his hand away almost immediately.

“You shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to you.” You tut, thumbing at the flesh of his cheeks in retaliation. He doesn’t hate it, but plays the part of disgruntled and shoves your arm away. 

“Take your own advice, babe.” He’s not sure why he said it, he’s not even sure he said it until you don’t say anything back and the two missing stooges glance over their shoulders with funny looks. The circumstance is strange and a strangled groan catches in his throat. 

It’s the first time all summer he’s been anything other than horrified by the way the sun tints his skin a shade of red darker than blush when he’s been out for more than five minutes. It seems the one courtesy the season has afforded him, his features already schooled like he’s said nothing out of turn. 

“I should get going.” You sigh, maneuvering around Steve’s frame until he takes it upon himself to sit up fully. He tries to gauge your reaction, wondering if he’d unknowingly pushed too far. 

“Already bored of us?” Robin calls over her shoulder, catching the attention of the kids splashing in the pool. 

“I’m going stargazing tomorrow night so I need to get up early to make sure I can close up on time.” You chirp, collecting your pile of sticks while sliding your feet into your sandals. The sun is just beginning to set, that period of morning reversal fading past the rigid edge of Steve’s roof. 

“Stargazing?” Sometimes you say things and it reminds Steve of the whimsical way about you. It’s dizzying to him how you carry yourself. 

Unlike him you only just afford the time for days lounging around, budgeted carefully in respect to an adolescent business nestled between shops in town. Even before today he found a certain respect in the way you revel in the enjoyment of all the small things.

“Yeah, I like to go sometimes to see what I can make out.” You shrug, wrangling a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt over your bathing suit. “Why, you wanna come?” 

"Uh…sure." It's clear you were joking, not intending him to agree to something so unintentionally intimate. That's not why he agreed, of course not, he's just interested in the experience. "Unless you don't want the company."

"No, you can come. Do you wanna meet there?"

"I can pick you up, it'll save time." The logistics feel something toeing the edge of formality, the edge taken by something awkward fluttering between you. 

"Sure, just come by at like seven thirty." You're about to further extend the invitation, Steve can tell when you stiffen turning to the rest of the group watching the two of you curiously from the edge of the pool. 

"Sounds good, these losers are planning a new campaign or something so it’ll just be the two of us."

“Yeah, you too have fun.” Dustin winks, an amusement to you, but not so amusing to Steve glaring over your shoulder.

~*~

Steve almost laughed at the look you gave him when you answered the door, like you hadn’t imagined him actually showing up in an old pair of basketball shorts and a light hoodie. It took you a moment to recall him, lips shaping into something that quickly died on your tongue before you let him into your apartment.

The small space was definitely you, neat to a point, your clutter further indicative of your personality. Various cookbooks lining the counters and plants decorating the windowsill in mismatched pots. There’s a bag of soil nestled beneath the tv stand with a sweet seafoam green watering can shaped next to it. 

Your tv is tiny, a wonky antenna sticking from the side making him wonder if you ever actually watch it. There’s a radio humming softly in the kitchen, the smell of something sweet heavy in the air, cookies if he had to guess. 

You’re dressed in something cute if Steve were to characterize it; a soft pair of shorts and a tank top with a loose cardigan draping your frame. He tries not to notice too hard when the sleeve slips over the curve of your shoulder to rest in the crook of your elbow. He can smell the fresh scent of your shampoo when you close the door behind him, something pretty and feminine he doesn’t think he could name just yet, and light lotion. 

“Sorry, I sort of lost track of time.” Didn’t think you would actually show up, he thinks to himself, unsure whether he should be offended or delighted to have caught you off guard.

“No worries, I’m a little early.” You offer him the small kindness of a smile before you scramble toward the kitchen. He ambles after you spotting the oven mitt nesting one of your palms. He rests against the door frame, legs crossed in that cool guy way that often makes you chuckle. “Are you baking?” 

“Just something small.” You shrug like you’re embarrassed you’re doing it at all. Steve finds it sweet, the way you’d somehow managed a dusting of flour to the apple of your cheek in the time you’d walked by the counter just ten seconds prior. “My bananas were browning and I decided to make cookies.” 

“That’s cute.” 

“What’s cute about it? There’s nothing cute about my job.” You grumble, opening the oven a tad to check the dough lined cookie sheet. You pull the tray out, quick to scoop the cookies onto the cooling rack with a well loved spatula. 

“Anyone else would’ve tossed the bananas or probably just eaten them if it’s Eddie.” He chuckles, stealing a handful from the bag of chocolate chips propped open on the counter. They’re bittersweet on his tongue, like they aren’t completely enjoyed unless they’re half melted in a blanket of butter and sugar. 

“Eddie?” 

“Eddie Munson, he’s been on the road with his band for a few months. Actually he’ll probably be back—”

“In two weeks.” You finish, walking the distance to the sink to wet the rag resting on the divider. You wring it between your fingers, nudging Steve to the side to clean the mess of sugar and flour mixing on the counter. Steve is too perplexed to react to the elbow in his side, barely managing to stuff the remaining chocolate chips past his lips where he looks at you with new eyes. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.” 

“You didn’t—I didn’t know you even knew who he was.” 

“What? Eddie and I have been friends for years, and he’s never mentioned you.”

“It’s a recent development. He doesn’t seem like your type.” Steve is resting on the counter, the vague itch of the wet seeping through his sleeve is nothing compared to the curiosity he’s hoping to scratch behind the ear.

“You mean because everyone says he’s a freak?” —you glance at him, your eyelashes batting attentively— “Well by all accounts, I’m sure he would say the same thing about us.”

“Touche. But seriously, how did you guys even meet?” You bristle, poking lightly at one of the fresh baked goods then passing one over with a hushed warning that it’s not quite cooled. Steve neatly shoves the whole thing into his mouth, preferring the scalding delicacy of the mixed bananas and gooey chocolate melting on his tongue than burning his palm. “C’mon jus’tell me.”  

He talks through the sticky bits coating his mouth, lapping at his teeth like a dog with a spoon of peanut butter.

“I don’t know, we were just kinda friends at first. We met at a party and it just stuck I guess.” Steve is suddenly too aware of how small your kitchen is by about the fifth time you shoulder past him. You avoid actually looking at him, somehow the busiest woman in the world navigating the space between the oven and the counter to shovel the semi-cooled cookies into tupperware. “How did you two meet? I would never guess you would click.” 

“He was running that dungeons and dragons club at school and Dustin wouldn’t shut up about him.” 

“So you don’t like him?” 

“I didn’t say that. Our relationship is complicated, okay?” 

“Okay.” The subject is worn, Steve watches you pack the cookies as well as a few drinks and a bag of sliced apples into a small wicker basket. He’s confused by the bare minimum picnic, but offers to carry the woven casing when you seal it on the counter. 

"I thought we were stargazing." Steve reflects unlocking his car guiding the basket, placing it gently into the emptiness of his backseat. You’re watching him like you don't trust the clumsiness of his hands, cradling a blanket in your arms where you rock on your heels. 

"We are, I always bring snacks and blankets. It gets chilly sometimes." You shrug, scrutinizing the uncharacteristic maneuver of Steve opening the passenger door for you. “Why can’t I drive?” 

He leans against the open car door, regarding you with his brow teasing the length of his forehead, nearly mating with the hair that drips from his scalp. You hate that he looks so pretty doing it and he hates that you don’t look too impressed with him. “It’s my car.”

“Sure, but it’s my spot. You don’t even know where we’re going.” A fair point, and he’s fallen victim to your horrible sense of verbal direction enough times to relent rather quickly. 

His lips flutter along the corner and he’s not sure he can quite make out the words without a lengthy debriefing on exactly how you should handle his baby. He opts for sliding into the passenger seat without further pretense and tries not to smile so wide when you audibly applaud your small victory.

“We should be able to catch the sunset if it isn’t too far.” You’re too smiley to respond, adjusting your seat so you can reach the petals and still maintain relative comfort. Steve almost comments on the way your smile eats up your cheeks, eyes crinkled at the corner making him feel like he’s made your night. 

There’s a stupid giddy sensation in his chest, one that all but consumes his nerves when you begin pulling out of your buildings lot. He clears his throat, adjusting the dial on the stereo to something just past the level of white noise. 

“So, who do you have your eye on this week?” You finally give him some attention, smooth behind the wheel with your eyes geared forward. The words are icky in Steve’s ears, not something he feels inclined to talk about with you. 

Mostly because the girl he’s currently got his eye on is gripping his steering wheel with such firm hands it forces him to adjust in his seat. 

It’s only of minor inconvenience to note the other girl, the one that happened to find herself a sufficient extracurricular, was splayed in his backseat just a few days ago and though he knows you would take it in jest if he did bring it up he also believes it would only serve to tarnish his reputation and he’s unwilling to yield the few steps.

“Come on, let’s talk about anything else. I have interests, you know.” 

“Alright, I’ll bite. What are your interests?” You. He thinks pathetically, but reels himself by the words dying on his tongue enough to muster an actual response.

“Well…don’t laugh, but I’ve been thinking of going to school actually.” He expects a scoff or a chuckle because surely the idea of him opening a textbook as anything more than a tactic of some cheesy roleplay seems outlandish. But you don’t do either of those things. 

Instead you glance at him from the corner of your eye, turning the radio up just a tad. “Oh yeah? What for?”

“Don’t laugh but—”

“Steven, I’m not gonna laugh at you! The only thing that’s gonna make me laugh is you telling me not to every two seconds.” He’s stunned for a moment, the only time anyone has ever called him Steven it’s felt scalding hot or filled with temperament. 

His mother when he was young and she felt the need to reprimand him constantly for silly things like tucking his shirt or spilling jam on his new pants. His father when he feels the sudden urge to remind Steve that he’s only adequate when he’s not around which really means both his parents are out of town so wrapped up in controlling each other they forget him altogether. 

Or teachers who said it in a mocking tone because it’s the only way to humiliate him without the implication of their own further punishment because he’s a Harrington and that seems to mean something to someone at least.

But when you say it it’s light and airy, like you hadn’t really thought of it at all. You just said it with the stain of your laughter trailing every syllable. He wants you to say it again, and again, and again…

“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to, but I’m not gonna make fun of you unless you tell me you wanna go to clown college or something.” He hadn’t realized you’ve already stopped driving, the place you’ve stopped somewhere familiar to him. “Trust me, you don’t need to go to school for that, you’re a natural.” 

“Wow, I guess I should just forget it and join the circus.”

“No no, one man show for sure.” You unbuckle, glancing through the windshield like you’re expecting someone else to be there. “Sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“I told you I wouldn’t laugh then I called you a clown.” You shrug, rolling your neck on the head of your seat. It makes Steve laugh, shoving his door open to feel the cool evening air on his face. “Why are you laughing?” 

“C’mon.” 

He fishes the basket from the backseat and lets you lead him through the thickness of tall grass, the blade of a mower clearly nowhere near this place in a few months at least. You don’t seem bothered by it, the tall wisps winding around your calves, tickling the skin the further inland you travel. Eventually it tapers off into an uneven field, perfectly trimmed for the blanket you throw over top of it. 

“It’s pretty here.” Steve lowers himself, watching you pick at a patch of overgrown purple flowers creeping over one edge of the cotton fabric. You tuck one of them behind your ear, offering him the rest of the bunch which he’s too stunned to refuse. “I actually think I’ve been here before.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, you have lived here your whole life.” It’s not quite dark yet, but the tail end of golden hour. The sun dances over you with the speckles of fireflies lighting a pattern every few feet. You lay back, extending your hand for one of the bugs to land with a controlled swiftness. 

“Yeah…I have.” Your touch is feather light where it absently begins to trace the thick hair lacing Steve’s legs, your attention focused on the setting sun. 

It reflects in your eyes with the pretty oranges fading to pinks then darker into violet and blue dusk. Steve has begun picking petals, showering them over your cheeks, heart growing ten sizes when you giggle and collect them in your palm. 

She loves me.

She loves me not.

The more he sits the more he stews and Steve hasn’t actually told anyone this since he thought it up to begin with. You're the only person who hasn’t made fun of the idea, so he inhales something fierce. 

“I think I wanna study social work.” He exhales it like a weak flame, unsure if it’ll burn at a constant or flicker out with the next vague gust of wind. 

You tilt your head to focus on him completely, your lips parting with a winding thought. Steve thinks it must be bad when you have to sit up to even begin to project your initial reaction.

“Really? That’s amazing!” Your hands are cool in his that are somehow always sticky with sweat when he’s around you lately. “God, I think you’d be so good for it, Steve.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes. You’re great with kids, assuming that’s what you wanna focus on, and either way the idea of helping other people is so you.” You gush, tightening your hold on him. You seem to realize just how close you’ve gotten, your bodies are nearly pressed together from every length but one, so you scoot a few inches away. 

“I mean, I have to actually get into school first.” Steve mutters, tugging at his ears entirely too hot. Sometimes he thinks of the day you played him for an idiot at Lucas’s scrimmage and it strikes him that under any other circumstance he would’ve held a grudge or at least he wouldn’t be sitting here begging you to notice him. He laughs and you nudge his shoulder, catching him off balance.  

He lands against the blanket, though he’s positive there must be a rogue pebble beneath it because it doesn’t feel too good on the back of his head. 

“You can do it, you’ve got like ten geniuses at your disposal and I swear as much shit as they give you they only want the best for you.” 

“Thanks, that means a lot.” 

“Yeah, don’t get all mushy. We haven’t even gotten to the actual stargazing yet.” You take up your spot next to him, the subtle darkening of the sky leaving you two specs in the middle of the giant field. 

You wonder what it looks like from the perspective of a bird, if it were to swoop low enough would it see you the same way you see yourselves or are you so much more insignificant than you hope? Either way your collective minds wander to a time this would’ve seemed impossible, just a short while ago that you didn’t exist to each other at all. 

“Do you actually know about constellations and shit?” 

“I know a little. I thrifted these astronomy books back in junior year and brushed up, but really I just know enough to get by.” A knack for downplaying everything you do, Steve scoffs and braces his arm behind his head, nearly elbowing you in the face. He glances over with the intent to apologize but you’re so focused on the sky he doesn’t even think you noticed.

“Lucky for you I know next to nothing. If it’s not a dipper I’m pretty useless.” It’s a slow start, the stars fading into view, adjusting to the new night and the similar circumstance. It’s mostly quiet between you for a while and Steve has to calm his agitation because this is not a date and he has no reason to impress you or to feel like he’s doing a bad job. 

“Okay c’mon, it’s easy. Honestly if you do it often enough you’ll be able to pick them out in no time because they’re in nearly the same spot depending on the time of year.” You point toward a single star, tracing it to another until Steve can see you’ve traced a triangle. “The Summer Triangle.”

“I’d love to meet the genius who named that one.” 

“Shut up, it sounds like something you’d come up with. Anyway, it’s formed by Vega, Deneb, and Altair.” 

“Hey, my first constellation!” 

“It’s not a constellation, it's an asterism. The three stars are actually part of different constellations.” You explain, lingering on the brightest of the three positioned at the southern tip of the celestial polygon. “Altair is only seventeen lightyears away which puts it near like the top ten brightest stars in the night sky. It’s the brightest star in the constellation Aquila.”

You gently grab Steve’s wrist where it rests along his stomach. He’s not sure when the air became so cool, but your skin is warm against his pulse and he’s glad you can’t make out the blush he can feel rising to his cheeks. You guide his pointer finger to the shape of what he assumes must be Aquila, though in his mind he’s already forgotten how to pronounce it. 

“It looks like a pterodactyl.” He feels dumb saying it, is sure you’re gonna admonish him for not taking you seriously which is not his intention. He’s mentally tracing the shape, pointing out the wings and the beak in case you really do call him out. 

“Close enough, it’s supposed to be an eagle.” You chuckle, sitting up to grab the basket of food momentarily forgotten by the pair of you. You offer him a cookie, pulling free a slice of apple and a side of caramel he hadn’t seen you pack. “I brought cider if you want some.”

You pass him a large thermos, your gazes catching something like passing ships. Steve thinks even with his minimal knowledge of proper names and constellations versus whatever the hell an asterism is he could find every star in your eyes just now. 

He almost says it, something dorky to parallel a cheesy pickup line that wouldn’t work on you as anything more than a stupid joke you wouldn’t let him live down. Maybe he could do it up disgustingly big and buy you a star, name it something that would make you both laugh at the absurdity of it. 

“We should sleep here.” Steve realizes he’s still staring, but he also realizes you are too. The words sort of hanging on the edge of your bottom lip the way ‘here’ seems to drag on for longer than necessary. 

“You mean in this field of bugs and weeds?” 

“Steve, they’re flowers.” You correct him, adjusting the ‘flower’ you’d previously tucked. “I’ve always wanted to try sleeping here, but I’m too scared to do it alone.” 

“So, you wanna do it with me?” 

“Why not? You're here, aren’t you? Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything weird.” Sure. Nothing weird at all sleeping in a field with you, don’t even sweat it. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous? I mean, we’re right next to the woods, anything could be out here. Anything could wander out and eat us alive.” Dare he say more he wouldn’t need even the dullest blade to rip the tab on that can of worms. 

“You mean me.” Not a question, not even an accusation, just a matter-of-fact statement. 

“What?”

“They would eat me because I’m sweet, you on the other hand, they might use you as a toothpick but you’re far too bitter for eating.” Now, Steve isn’t usually bothered by these sorts of defamations of character, but he’s all too concerned that you think he’s bitter. How to change your mind?

There are a few ways, the one that truly speaks to him is far too inappropriate a means of explanation. He could lean just a few feet to the right to place the gentleness of a kiss to your lips, no way you can deny him the confection of his character, especially when one of your cookies is so neatly resting in the buds of his tongue. 

You would be so unsuspecting a victim, he can see the way your eyes would widen a fraction, can hear your inner monologue, something about how unsettling it would be for him if he were to open his eyes and see you staring. He would do it for the fun of watching you screw your eyes shut a fraction too late, already too embarrassed to have been caught. 

But friends don’t do those things.

So he has to settle for bug bites and a night sleeping in the grass, but at least you’ll be right beside him. 

[dangermousie]

So, I couldn’t wait and started my rewatch of The Princess’ Man. God, it grabbed me again from the very opening moment (side note - its theme music is still one of my all time favorite kdrama tracks; I am not particularly musical and find a lot of kdrama music pleasant but forgettable but the operatic feel of this is just to my liking.) That very very dramatic opening of silhouettes riding as the sun is gone - our ML, Seung Yoo, riding like hell, blood spattered face and desperation, and the camera cutting off to the notation of Sejo conducting his coup and verifying with a dude who we will eventually learn is our SML that he let SY escape as planned without suspecting anything. “He trusts me,” adds SML and I realize something I am not sure I caught the first time I saw this drama because I didn’t yet know any of these people and their relationships - a lot of SY’s eventual rage is actually directed at himself - it’s a form of guilt and blame. He is the one who led the pursuers to his father, he is the one who got him killed, is something he might think. But also, no wonder he eventually returns unable to trust - he must think his ability to judge character is terrible and he can be easily deceived - he fell in love with the daughter of the man who exterminated his clan who was pretending to be someone else and he didn’t know but also his closest friend betrayed him - how can he ever trust his own judgment of character ever again?

Anyway, the killers burst in and I love SY yanking a sword out of a corpse to defend his father. He’s not yet a killing machine but he has the bloody mindedness.

But there are a ton of them and only one of him, and wounded to boot so it ends as well as it can be expected.

You can perhaps see why, as I watched it during its airing, I expected a tragic ending.

And as he goes unconscious by the dead body of his father, the way it zooms into his eye and we see happy memories and then her and them…in a very different time and so different.

And it cuts to a year back and our FL Se Ryung, surely one of the best kdrama FLs for me. So happy and untroubled and miles from the bloody corpse strewn grounds of the fight for power.

This is honestly as good as before.

I confess starting in medias res is one of my favorite narrative maneuvers because we watch stuff in full knowledge of darkness to come and it’s soooo good!

[aita-blorbos]

(Fangame OCs)

AITA for pulling a knife on a guy?

So, let me explain. I (19 F-leaning NB) and I think about 15 other people (ranging from 12 to 19, varying on the gender spectrum) got locked in a building a while ago that looked to be some kind of old-fashioned school building with stagelights everywhere and all sorts of weird shit. We were told by a "director" that we were trapped inside and to get out, we had to kill each other. Well, a couple people tried that and just got killed immediately, because you also need to get away with it, which was a fact conveniently left out in the initial explanation just to ensure the first person to break suffered the most. Among the group I was with was my baby cousin R (13F), who was basically like a little sister to me. R was very mature and extremely abrasive in personality, and was essentially treated like another one of the older members of the group. She also very quickly got on everyone's bad side with her stubbornness and distrust and continually bluffed about being capable of murder to keep people off her back. I saw through this immediately, but apparently I was the only one.

Fast forward to about two weeks in, we're informed that another murder has taken place. While searching for a body, I found R's yellow star earring and immediately knew she had been the victim. I found her body shortly after and I think it was understandable that I was a total wreck. About five minutes later, another girl, C (12F), was found dead at the bottom of a stairwell. To make a long story short, it turned out that C had confided in M (17F) that she had been pushed to kill R by someone else, and to prevent her from being executed, M sort of threw her down the stairwell in hopes of giving her a quick death. M tried to keep it secret who C had said incited the murder so as not to make anyone else suffer unnecessarily as she had intentionally tried to take the blame for everything, but it turned out it was a boy my age, V (19M). He tried to twist it so that it sounded like he was technically guilty and we had all voted wrong, meaning he had gotten away with it and could escape, but when this didn't work, he just emotionally shut down and mumbled something about how R was powerful and he feared her.

Here's where I may be the asshole here. When I called out that that was ridiculous and R was barely a teenager and he was almost twenty, I was met with the knowledge that I was the only person who saw R as a child and everyone else was genuinely intimidated by and afraid of her, worrying that her age and status (famous pop singer) would make her untouchable and leave her free to do whatever she wanted. I kind of lost it at this point (which I feel is understandable, but again I seem to be the only one) and I pulled out my grandfather's hunting knife from my skirt pocket and began swinging wildly at V, cutting up his face and punching him and just kind of aimlessly swinging at him. It took the strongest of us, N (17M) restraining me for almost a full minute before I even stopped swinging, and everyone was looking at me like I was dangerous afterward. I hadn't realized until then that they didn't even know I had a knife on me. One of the others called me a hypocrite for judging everyone who selfishly gave in to the killing game and yet being armed and ready to kill V when he hurt my cousin, which is understandable, and the worst part actually was that it was V himself who told them to get off my back and that they should be mad at him because he was the one who had put me through hell like this.

I don't think I was planning to kill V, and I only wanted to exact justice for R's premature death. I watched the light fade from her eyes just seconds before I got to her and I think she died before I could comfort her. I understand that had I actually killed him in cold blood I would have gone beyond a point of no return morally, and that it was likely scary for the others to see I had been armed the whole time, but V is a murderer. I feel like everyone except ironically V himself is going after me because I got violent when V premeditated a triple murder for his own gain. There is no coming back from that and while I'm absolutely not proud of the fact that I defaulted to violence like all the people I'd lambasted for doing the same, I feel like V is objectively in worse standing here, and R was all I had; am I the asshole?

[the-final-sif]

I also think based on anecdotes from carsons former friends, that carson was a generally unpleasant person to be around and people are more willing to dump a bad person if they are a bad person To Them. Dream is generally well liked so peoples own perception of him changes how they judge the current situation at hand. That being said you really dont know how things go on behind closed doors and what contracts/bonds are protecting people from revealing they are abusive/shitty, unless ccs reveal them themselves (and even then you still dont know the whole truth)

Per Carson, that was the general sense that I got reading through stuff regarding him. He had a history of poor behavior, and a bad history with relationships from what I could tell. So I'm sure that played a part in how they reacted to what he was doing (and from reports it sounded like people were aware of his stupid behavior and told him off but he wasn't listening). Plus, Carson admitted to the behavior, and it seems to me like content creators were aware of it.

In Dream's case, I'm sure the fact his friends like him would play a part, but also like, his general character also plays a part in this. All reports we've had have been that Dream has been very particular about keep his face off the internet pre-face reveal, even close friends didn't get photos until George did. The idea that he was sending photos of himself at all to a random stranger is already rather absurd, let alone sending nude photos to someone he knew was 17 less than three weeks after actually started talking to this person. As I've said before, that is an extreme claim to make, Dream has faced many false accusations in the past (including directly before this one), and no proof of the extreme claim was provided (ie any kind of photos or evidence of photos). Personally, I wouldn't believe these sorts of allegations if my friend denied them and this was all the proof that was offered. I wouldn't blame someone else for making the same choice about their friends.

There's also a level of "they have a lot more knowledge than we do". Hell, even about the smaller stuff. Like Amanda's claim that Dream had a chest full of sex toys. Like, Sapnap has moved with this man more than once. Clearly none of them have issues going through each other's space. I just generally get the feeling that Sapnap would know if that's true, and if he knows that's bullshit, he would know the rest of it would be bullshit too. Or if any of his friends had information on times he was busy, things he was going through, etc, that makes the timeline nonsensical.

That all being said, I really don't ever think the answer would be "contracts". Like, that's some of the BS that Dream's Ex tried to claim awhile back. While I'm sure like, those with Dream's merch company and stuff have contracts, I don't doubt for a second if any of his friends legitimately thought he was fucked up/abusive, they can and would leave. Particularly those outside his merch company. Like, Jack Manifold and Connor were straight up like looking at his doxx on Miz's stream awhile ago. Plenty of them have criticized him or disagreed with him. Any contracts that they may have clearly don't prevent them from speaking out.

[klonoadreams]

I guess with mako being there, the strawhats get an early education on the discrimination and prejudice the Fishman/ mermaids face early as well as a history lesson on world nobles slave trade and Fisher tiger and his Sun pirates.

Like I know I feel bad for the crap Nami went through but her mom was ex- marine, so I'm sure Bellm'ere probably knew the truth and told the village adults. That or mako probably snapped at Nami once.

It's also a situation of, likely, Belle-mere dying before she had a chance to explain anything more to her daughters, like even baseline Marines don't know much about the world too, especially if what they see only scratches the surface and believe everything that they're told without question. But also small villages can also be limited by world views and the fact there seems to be this deliberate divide and limiting of knowledge caused by the World Government... Like all they know is Jinbei is a Warlord and that slavery is abolished, and call it a day. Hell, at first glance, Arlong just appears to be a supremist.

(Live action did a good thing by introducing the bits and pieces we didn't see until later, and it seems messy at first glance, but knowing what's to come, it just shows that this is why Arlong hates humans. And that hatred eventually passed onto those who never experienced it first hand, but learned it anyways via Hody Jones and his gang)

Come Sabaody, the truth comes out in a horrifyingly frightening way, with Keimie nearly getting sold into slavery, and Hatchan almost getting killed.

Not to mention, Otohime getting killed happened recently too, so I can only imagine a tiny Nami experiencing it first hand when some of the Arlong Pirates just get angry for every little thing she does wrong because everyone still thinks Otohime was killed by a human. And she doesn't know anything either.

She was a child who was stunted before she had a chance to grow. To learn firsthand how to form opinions of her own accord, given the way she was treated. Her forgiving Jinbei was a sign that she understands that his actions brought Arlong to the East Blue, but she knows that it's still Arlong who did it all, cuz he didn't have to do that. But he did.

Nami right now has a pretty rigid worldview due to putting up so many walls to protect herself. She can't afford to take any chances, which makes the moment she asks for help so significant. Cuz she is allowing herself to trust.

Which is why you can expect her to trip and fall every so often, so do expect Mako to snap at her.

Though don't expect Mako to go too full into depth about the discrimination and prejudice she's faced, from both humans and fishmen. At least, not until Chopper pops up and even then, there is only so much she can share herself before she shuts herself off due to the trauma she has.

It's like things she'll share piece by piece, starting from the alienation that she can very well relate to with Chopper. And slowly, Robin also helping fill in the gaps, but keeping certain information to herself.

Because Mako doesn't know the truth about her parentage. Even Arlong kept part of it to himself, because he genuinely pities her. The most he's told her is that he knows her biological father, and hints at the true horror of her conception. Which is a damn good way to get someone to shut down and not think about it.

Sabaody is really where it all comes out. In ways that no one could have ever predicted. Rayleigh actually has a letter for her, that Shanks gave him, that would explain everything to her. But is to only be given to her when the time is right. Shakky is the one who will be the judge of that, since she knew Mako's mother as a former Snake Princess.

But of course, Sabaody is Sabaody and no one is leaving the island without trauma. You can blame Disco for that in various ways.

And certainly, it's a hell of a way for Mako to kick off her reunion with Law. But at the very least, by the time of Fishman Island, Mako would have shared everything about herself, including the things that she's learned. And why she kept quiet about some of it. Because she was scared.

Just like Robin.

Anyways all aboard the SS TRAUMA!!

[sunkcost]

honestly i’m not really sure i understand how people are reacting to the whole “have a nice life, kim” thing. obviously he was pretending not to care, but i don’t know why people are acting like that was him pushing her away or cutting her out of his life. kim was the one cutting herself out of his life. he begged her not to. he begged. he said he’d do anything, be anything, as long as it meant she’d stay, and she left anyways. i’m not saying that to blame or judge kim, but those are just the facts. she literally came and asked him to sign divorce papers to make their separation permanent and concrete. nothing that he could have done in that situation would have changed anything. him continuing to beg or appear visibly upset wouldn’t have helped anything. it probably would have just upset her in a different way, and i think it’s kind of unfair to expect him to make himself vulnerable to total rejection again knowing that it would accomplish nothing. he doesn’t really owe it to her to show her how much pain he’s in over the fact that she’s leaving him, and i have no doubt she knows that. 

she knows what it’s doing to him and she knows he’s faking it. it’s obviously extremely difficult to see what he’s turning into to mask that fact, and the knowledge that it came about as the result of her actions, but that just kind of is what it is. it’s not her fault he’s doing what he’s doing, but it’s also not his responsibility to make his pain over it easier for her to deal with one way or the other. as much as it’s viscerally painful to watch, and you can feel her pain in seeing it, she’s still the one leaving. under the circumstances, “have a nice life, kim” may have been one of the nicest things he could have said to the person he loved and trusted more than anything who is now willfully leaving him behind to live her life without him. he said it in a way that was meant to be biting, but if he had said it sincerely that would have actually told her he didn’t care, and would have hurt in a different way. you just can’t really care about the fact that you’re being abandoned by someone you love without being bitter about it. i don’t know if that’s actually possible. short of breaking down in tears, his reaction was probably the biggest possible indication that it is unbelievably painful for him. the situation just sucks no matter what. there is no solution. even if there were some appropriate level of upset to be at your divorce signing, you can’t really expect him to just be better and able to deal with it any more than you can expect kim to get over what she’s going through and not leave. 

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Alright guys here's the first room closeup (+ headcanons/notes), by popular demand:

~Mike & Will's room~

(Plz don't judge my choice of wall art I pretty much just picked it bc it matched the wallpaper colors and there weren't a lot of good options)

Ok so design details

I know yall see that blue and yellow, and the green in the middle. All very intentional. The bed w/ the yellow blanket is Will's & the one w/ the blue blanket is Mike's. They sit on the rug when they're having their little heart-to-hearts that the rest of the party never seem to be a part of for "some reason"

Also, these boys wear a lot of fuckin stripes, so. Blue and yellow striped wallpaper? Green striped rug? Idk man it was screaming byler what can I say

And then there's a record player or whatever on the dresser between them, bc as we all know Will is a music guy and Mike lets Will do whatever he wants even if that means keeping him up listening to his favorite song all night bc he'd never forgive himself if Vecna somehow got Will bc Mike made him turn it off*

*So, to explain what that's all about: after his repeated failed attempts with Max, One went after Will next bc y'know, lots of trauma, easy target, etc (at least that's what the mf thought, I'm pretty sure Will lowkey has powers or smthn)

(This happened before the start of the au btw so it's just sort of background info, it might be mentioned but it won't be happening in present)

But anyway Will almost got Vecna'd and it was partially Mike's fault bc they got in a fight, Mike said smthn stupid and Will ran off, we know the drill (Mike still blames himself for it even tho they made up & Will forgave him and is fine)

Mike kinda lost his shit, honestly I'm thinking in his terror he pushed El too hard to save Will (when she was already doing her best obviously bc that's her brother) and that was part of why they broke up bc even El realized he cared more about Will than her- Mike is pretty much the only one who doesn't know yet lol

And they all survived obviously but now they're both kinda extra paranoid about it and even though they've moved far away and One hasn't followed them they still worry that some day he might track them down, so they fall into a (compulsive) habit of playing Will's favorite songs on repeat

(I'm not giving you his fav songs bc first of all I can't even decide my own fav song and also it just feels really presumptuous like that's too personal of a thing for me to decide for somebody else. I take music very seriously & very personally ok. Funnily enough tho I am listening to "should I stay or should I go" at this very moment)

Anywho, moving along

That desk by the door is mostly used for coming up with new campaigns they don't want the others to spoil (it's ok for their roommate to have insider knowledge that's not an unfair advantage or anything and besides it just can't be helped y'know? /s) no but they do collaborate sometimes and they work so well together as storytellers that the others find it lowkey unsettling (Dustin and Lucas are used to it tho)

>tw: vaguely suicidal themes?

Someone, not thinking I guess, makes an offhand joke about them being on the ground floor so they don't have to worry about Mike jumping out the window, and Will, who somehow hadn't ever actually heard the whole "quarry story," asks what that's supposed to mean and then they very awkwardly have to explain and he's basically like "oh my god what the hell that's not fucking funny why would you joke about that" and for a while after learning about it he's extra conscious of any self-deprecating/self-sacrificing type shit Mike says

Also they have "crazy together" written somewhere in the room no one else will see it. It's uncertain where, or whose idea it was, or why they did it, but they did. Probably to sort of make the room feel more like it was claimed as *theirs* after having to move to a new house far away from familiarity, and as a reminder to always be there for each other when times are tough

[iidsch]

[Major Omori spoilers]

A common criticism of Omori is that the plan Basil came up with is too "edgy" or just unbelievable, but I feel like the people who think that are looking at this scene with the wrong glasses.

Yes, when you look at it from a third-person perspective, after learning how Mari's suicide deeply affected everyone and, I assume, as an adult (I highly doubt kids are playing this game), the plan seems very irrational and stupid. And indeed it is. Because that's the kind of plan a kid would come up with if put in such an extreme situation.

Let me use an example that will be understandable for most people, I hope. Imagine you're cooking something in the kitchen, something that requires really hot oil, like fried potatoes. Suddenly, a fire breaks out. If this is the first time this happens, and you're prone to getting anxiety, your first thought is going to be pouring water on the fire. Anyone familiar with kitchen hazards knows that pouring water on a grease fire will make the fire spread and become worse. But you need two important things to be able to act accordingly in this situation: one is the knowledge of what your actions will lead to (in this case the fire becoming worse if you pour water onto it), and two, the ability to calm down so you can make the best decision.

Sunny and Basil had none of those when Mari died. They panicked and, unable to look at the situation with a clear mind, they made everything worse.

And this is not your average 'oh I got a little nervous and made a mistake' scenario. This is a scenario where you, unwillingly and completely on accident, killed someone. Someone that you, and many people around you, deeply loved. As the player, you're observing the situation from a place where you can judge their actions objectively, without any emotions that would tamper with your decisions.

But when you're in the middle of that kind of situation you don't have time to think about it. You're overwhelmed with very strong and negative feelings. Sunny completely shuts himself down, and possibly forces his mind to forget what just happened, the same way he forgets about the closet or Basil's room after he kills himself. Basil, on the other hand, denies that Sunny had pushed his sister down the stairs, and blames "something behind him'", leading him to believe that if someone discovers Mari's dead body, they'll "unjustly" put the blame on Sunny, so he opts for what he thinks is the best solution - lie about her death.

Maybe Basil thought of some other way they could lie to get away with her death, or maybe suicide was the only possibility on his mind at that time. Whatever is the case, we know the decision they took. Or rather the decision Basil took, since it's entirely plausible that Sunny had completely closed himself off and was just following Basil's instructions.

When you see it from the comfort of your chair, all their actions seem really bad, if not terrible, given how Mari's supposed suicide makes the group's friendship crumble. But that is a very unfair treatment of the situation and of their feelings. You’re asking two kids, who are already very shy and anxious, to deal with one kind of situation that I don’t even think an adult could handle well. If what they did seems unrealistic to you, you haven’t fully grasped how traumatic and stressful it must have been for them, and for any other person.

When I first learned the truth, I couldn’t stop asking myself: "what would have I done if this had happened to me?" But that's a question I am not allowed to answer, as I've never had something so tragic happen to me. And that's where the true horror of the game lies, in the fact that this could happen to anyone. Maybe not to such an extreme degree, but making one mistake, hurting someone you love in consequence, and feeling guilty about it is a very real thing to go through, one that I'm sure many have already experienced.

Sunny and Basil were just kids, they made the wrong decision and were forced to live with the unimaginable pain and guilt of their actions. To call their behavior irrational is to deny how humanly they acted in that situation. And after all, to err is human, and what they did was just a terrible mistake.

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

When Baz thinks about his mother he remembers her allowing him to read whatever he liked as long as he asked her questions about it. When he remembers good things about her, it's tied to her as an educator. It's the same for Penny her mother is a professor and a huge influence on her and Mitali allows her kids to explore their interests even if she doesn't agree with it. She and Natasha Pitch give their children knowledge about magic and their world. Neither of them were perfect but they cared about their kids knowledge and future. Even Shepards mom is in the education field, she's a teacher in the States. So obviously education is a major thing in this series. It's also clear that their families appreciate and value their abilities and interests. Daphne asks after Baz's studies and praises him, Baz plays a violin that he inherited from his grandfather and he follows his mothers advice about Magic to this day. Also Baz's dad even put political hostilities aside with Simon cause he thought his son was doing a school assignment. Mitali can be wry but it's clear that she is proud of her daughter and appreciates her abilities. 

I think calling what Davy did to Simon gaslighting would be putting it too lightly, he practically Truman Showed that kids life. And his main weapon was withholding information or feeding Simon misinformation. He made sure that Simon was raised away from the WOM and then was Simons main source of information when he started. He then controlled Simons education (and everyone else's, but they had access to family libraries and their parents) and to just prove how little he cared about Simon's school life, he'd pull him out of class to do his Chosen One job. Given that Simon was already struggling with school, his missing lesson probably didn't help. The teachers had to give him speech sessions and the Mage never helped, he just sat in on them and judged. He even wanted to pull Simon out of Watford his final year. I think this was for the same reason he wanted Baz gone, he wanted Simon out of there in case Lucy or Natasha visited. He never told the kid about his raids on the families, he never even told Simon his NAME or that he had a loving family who wanted him, he kept Simon's very identity from him. He could not have sabotaged Simon's education better, we don't know much about Simon's school life before Watford, but we can imagine that it was probably not ideal, his omission of it speaks volumes. 

He has bizarrely high expectations for Simon's magical ability in spite of the crappy job he's doing cultivating them, but he blames Simon for this failing and Simon blames himself too. One could imagine that Davy benefits from Simons ignorance it makes him easier to control but then he also expects Simon to be somehow gifted and then makes Simon feel like garbage when he can't perform as expected. If the other parents care and appreciation for their kids education and interests can be seen as them caring about their futures then its clear Davy didn't give a crap about Simons. 

Theres hope: The Mage did a number on Simon's self esteem and knowledge about the WOM but Baz and the Salisburys are here to do some damage control. When Simon says he doesn't want to go back to school Baz is quick to assure him that he is not stupid. He also throws in small sweet little compliments Simon's way like when he tells Simon he did a good job choosing things for his apartment. Just nice little positive remarks that someone like Simon really needs after years of negative feedback. Ruth is a champion, she praises Simons appearance, his wings and just him in general before she even learns that he's her grandson. She even respects his experience in chosen one like missions. I think one of the best parts of AWTWB for me was when Simon got the excalibur. Unlike the SOM which was given to him as a weapon and with it came responsibilities and expectations, the Salisbury's gave him their sword cause its something he's good at and they figured he'd like it. It's like a parent giving their kid a paint set cause they like painting, not cause they expect them to be Da Vinci. They value his interests and ability and they figured he'd enjoy having it, it's the start of something really nice. I think it's also significant that it's also the instrument that led to the revelation that Simon is Lucy and Davy's kid, the most important piece of information that Simon needed.