#I’m sorry but no one’s entitled to my DR or what goes on in it???

[rottenlittlefink]

… thought I should make this clear lol

[spontaneousglitterbees]

Legally required to ask for Kokichi for the ask game

[For this ask game]

gosh ur so right anon. I am so sorry this got readmore levels of out-of-hand full spoilers for NDRV3 and also rated C for Current Hyperfixation.

favorite thing about them

Counter-intuitive, but I know my past self (including the era when V3 came out) would have hated Kokichi for the same reasons I like him now. Mainly:

I really did go into V3 expecting to loathe Kokichi as a nuisance at best; I’d been spoiled on Ch. 4  before getting into DR because I thought ‘my aim sucks I won’t play it anyway’  and, loving bees and assorted bugs as I do, I figured Gonta would be my favorite. And I mean, he’s up there, but this little shit. How dare he be an engaging character.

Unsure where I said it previously, but Kokichi seems like the kind of guy who would run a How to Beat [X Movie] channel out of earnest (admit so or not) love for the thought experiment of it all, which isn’t just relatable, but a very interesting Type of Guy to have in your killing game scenario. The one constantly pushing the boundaries, but not quite meta-level aware they’re in a video game; genre-savvy and trying to Actually Accomplish Something Constructive. He also goes about it in such a way that launches a couple malatovs at every bridge he has, which, having been anxious and overly rejection-sensitive in high school, is fucking wild to me. You are going about this in the worst way you could, on purpose, and that is fascinating. Mentally I am putting him in a microscope slide because What Is Your Deal

Plus, the way he constantly has some kind of front up to a point where Saihara can’t decide who he really is by the end of Ch. 5… hmm chameleon complex? I find it quite simple, really. Unclear to me if they meant to make him Like This but doubling down on constant over-performance of social signals because communicating frustrates you and it lets you feel some small degree of control in your life is (in my experience at least) very autistic of him and as a result hearing the whole V3 cast consider him entirely indecipherable down to the bitter end… oof ouch real anxieties? 

least favorite thing about them

A) Some of the iconography they chose for his talent. Which I’m pretty sure they pretty much ditched outside promos? So B) Some of his art in the wake of Ch. 4 is… wonky, but not in a way that looks fully deliberate? It undercuts the drama for me a bit. I think Kokichi seems much more menacing when he drops pretenses entirely and just goes blank instead of trying Very Hard to act out a particular emotion (like he does pretty much all the time). Instead of the demon face, something more like this?

favorite line

I blame this for getting "The more that you suffer, the more I enjoy it" stuck in my head, plus the combo of "Now you'll never, ever forget me for the rest of your life! [...] I stole your heart, so now I'm satisfied." The two surface Kokichis asdfghjkl

Looking for quotes though it came to my attention that in Chapter 2 he says "[...] I wanna win this killing game! So I'm not gonna run from it, I'm gonna crush it! That'll be waaaay less boring, don'tcha think?"  kicking screaming they knew exactly what they were doing

shipping and handling

tbh I less ‘ship’ and more ‘please make them interact with one another’, so grains of salt I suppose!

brOTP

Kokichi + Miu. Gotta find who in the amalgamate server said ‘in any other circumstance they’d be besties’ because they are Correct.

OTP

This is a self report but like fuck it we ball Kokichi ♢/♠ Kaito

If you know the intricacies of what that means you may be entitled to—

Pretty much this vine

nOTP

I guess I'm a little squicked thinking of Kokichi/Gonta in a romantic sense? See at least in TAPP they've still got a Lot to talk about before comfortably calling one another 'friend' instead of 'working on it'

random headcanon

Ah a lot of these are already sprinkled in TAPP so what’s one y’all haven’t heard before,,

He started painting his nails during the game initially to interrogate (RE: get-to-know) Rantaro, and kept doing it to discourage himself from biting his nails and cuticles all the time. There's only like one sprite where he does it, but I think it could be a nervous tick

TAPP!DICE may not be real but the tea party policy absolutely is

I've drawn him in skirts doing outfit memes, but I think for him it's less concrete than feeling like dressing femme sometimes and more that, post-game and organization-less, he has no idea who he's supposed to be anymore and is throwing pretty much everything at the wall in many facets of his life. Including but not limited to saying 'screw uniforms' and seeing how long it takes him to get in trouble with HPA for wearing different clothes every day. After long enough unchallenged he starts getting his classmates to do it too. Considering... their entire circumstances in TAPP, they get away with a lot more than the other classes 

unpopular opinion

Is it unpopular to say that some of the info from Kokichi’s FTEs should have been in the main plot? The knife game scene, besides being my favorite, seriously clues the player into what he’s like beyond the artifice without having to posthumously dump that exposition in his room, and that a lot of players confused by him are likely to miss out on characterization that would clarify things Irks Me.

song i associate with them

Oh, only one song? Too bad, 'cuz I Can’t Decide - Scissor Sisters

My other cop-out is 'Cause I’m a Liar - Mcki Robyns-P, which I’m working on a cover for in Synth V

Other than that? I haven’t built up nearly enough song-based associations with the DR cast yet somehow, but I’ll throw in Queen of Nothing - The Crane Wives which is less a Kokichi vibe than “I’m writing TAPP!Kokichi in the wake of Chapter 5” vibes. Isn’t this what you wanted? Time sure feels like it’s running out. Finish what you started, Queen of Nothing, wearing such a heavy crown.

I don’t know if this is in the spirit of the prompt but the thought did occur to me that a Trial 5 animatic to I’m Alive from Next to Normal would slap really really hard actually.

I need more peppy songs in my life, is what I’m gathering.

favorite picture of them

Let’s split it like this:

Favorite from the game? Probably this one

The face of a man asking “what are you gonna do, shoot me?” promptly before getting shot.

Sprite? This one

Is it genuine curiosity? Is he mocking me? Some mysterious third thing? Yes.

and a fanart that lives in my brain rent-free (the-everlasting-ash). Linking instead of reposting bc please support the original artist. There are many, many wonderful pieces of fanart out there, but this one carved a niche in my brain and stayed there (it is the cover image for DR art on my phone on account of Stunning).

Also for the uninitiated on TAPP- [Talent Acquisition Pilot Program AU Masterpost]

[plantpest]

The thing is she hasn’t denied any of the accusations because they’re true. Those blogs are genuinely all her. She just doesn’t like people knowing that she’s a TERF because it’s bad for business. No one has said anything defamatory or insulting towards her. It’s just like any other business where the CEO gets caught saying racist/transphobic/sexist etc things except she’s not coming out an apologizing, she’s just getting angry at whistleblowers. I’m sorry that she’s gaslighting you over it.

and another ask:

She’s changed her TERF blog URL three times in 2 days. It’s not that she’s denying it, she just doesn’t want anyone to find out. She doesn’t want to be a better person. She wants to continue to be transphobic while taking our money.

tl;dr tumblr user havekat is a fucking terf lol

there's a whole mess under the read more

let's address kate:

on @havekat she doesn't reblog much from outsiders. however, from the reblogs she actually has (old and new) a whole lot are from terf blogs. the same goes for katsflora

speaking of katsflora, there's at least one straight up transmisogynistic post with no connection to plant there. this is her blog on which she mainly posts pretty pictures. probably reblogged to the wrong blog

the extremely aggressive transphobic blog that changes urls every now and again (henceforth known as That Blog) has reblogged havekat since its start in... 2018? i can't see the archive anymore, i guess tumblr is being tumblr about it. it's still actively reblogging her art as well as having a painting of hers as a header. kate is obviously fine with this blog promoting her, which would lead one to assume she is fine with extremely hateful people promoting her

she often talks on havekat about her stalker/harasser but never goes into detail. this is fine, no one is entitled to share details about shit like that. however, she often talks about being suicide bated. in her latest posts she talks about The Anon (an anti-kate anon who we guess is her stalker) going around is spreading lies about her and talking about how she is a failure. she never says what the lies are. the anon also never says she's a failure, but this is kinda pedantic of me to point out

she never publishes the harassing anons she herself gets that are presumably suicide bating her. that's obviously fine as most people don't want shit like that plastered on their own blogs. ...except that she uses this as one of her main points fishing for sympathy. she is also very quick to publish any other asks she gets however abusive language they have

she reblogged someone getting an anon (The Anon we guess) with some regular ol' kate-is-a-grifter-and-a-fraud. there's presumably been some back-and-forth with the receiver and kate. kate added "I don’t sell to people who help a stalker suicide bait me". from what we can see there's been no suicide bating. my guess is that kate doesn't know what "suicide bait" means. someone telling others to not buy her art is not suicide baiting. someone harassing her to the point of her feeling suicidal is not suicide baiting. it's vile and abusive behaviour that can have very extreme consequences, but it's not baiting

when someone asks her outright about her being the owner of That Blog she talks in circles

when someone asks her outright if she's being a terf or transphobic she deflects by stating she's bi (which... you can be bi and a terf. you can be straight and a terf (straight radfems are hilarious but w/e). you can be a bisexual or heterosexual or homosexual transphobe)

gonna slip in a quick terf=/=transphobe. there's layers n shit. at the top there's "trans people are very much valid in their own struggles but trans women have no place in women's issues since that encompasses only cis women bc reasons". which is transphobic but like. at a socially acceptable level

kate blocked me for asking her to clear up The Anon's accusations. she has not blocked That Blog

on That Blog and The Anon:

The Anon is from what i (and others) can tell some pissed off terf who hates kate for one reason or another but likely bc kate is totally fine taking money from trans people (specifically trans women) and refuses to confirm or deny her opinions openly on havekat

however kate sometimes refer to The Anon as a he and gives some details that doesn't adds up to The Anon, which makes me think there's actually two people going around. or there were and now there's one. it's kinda whatever tbh but worth pointing out i guess

The Anon sending messages abt kate being the blogowner is likely a fucking piss ass terf herself and is getting off on kate getting upset. so like. fuck off. block me will ya?

the owner of That Blog could be a bored and extremely hateful person with lots of spare time who pretends to be kate, but it would take serious dedication. some people are unhinged enough to do shit like that

That blog has reblogged kate's art since its start, several years back. lots of the art uses the same tagging style as kate has. however, tags can be changed retroactively. with a tag changer it's easy and quick

the two blogs have a similar typing style, but lots of people on tumblr do, so it's not really anything. it's also not that hard to mimic other people's "tones" if they're not already similar

the blogger has "slipped up" a couple of times and hinted at or admitted to being kate. could be a determined hater or it could be kate. we have no such slip-ups from havekat or katsflora, at least not from what i could find. havekat doesn't even promote katsflora and afaik it's her blog

That blog has, again, kate's art as its header. kate had a public freakout about someone adding descriptions to her paintings, so if she didn't like That Blog she would likely be public about not tolerating her (i assume based on content etc) using kate's art as a header

i cannot stress enough how violent the content of That Blog is. it's extremely transphobic. the "infiltration of women's spaces" (aka trans women existing) seems to be the blogger's biggest hate subject

whenever there's a fuss around kate possibly running That Blog the blog changes url. some drama hungry shit is keeping track of them and making sure people can find the newest url. search and you will find. i won't link That Blog or the url tracking blog bc i don't want people exposed to this shit too easily

my take from all this is that kate is a terf, and a really slimy one at that

at the base level she is totally fine with having radfems, terfs and transphobes promoting her. she has been fine with terfs and transphobes since before her money struggles. she is still fine with this. i understand how desperate she could be and needing to find support wherever she can, but by trying to play two fields she is at risk of losing everything. either she is fine with terf ideology and loses all her trans and ally support, or she takes a stance against it and loses that side instead. from what i've gathered lots of terfs are against her bc she's playing with the enemy i guess

she could have been vibing with terf ideology but grown into a healthy mindset right before the money issues hit and so never bothered to unfollow and/or block people in order to gain as big of an audience as possible. but i dunno. people calls her out right and left and she continues to be shifty around it all

as for me i will continue to operate under the assumption that she is a terf and i will warn others that supporting her means, sadly, not only that they are supporting someone in need of help, but someone who is also promoting a politic that is killing people

it is a hard stance to take bc - assuming what she is saying about her economical situation and struggles with her dogs and homelessness etc etc is true - i am actively asking people to potentially making a mentally ill person homeless. but the opinions she holds are supporting death, direct and/or indirect, of trans women (trans people, but specifically amab enbies and women)

i have screenshots btw i just don't feel like cleaning them up. if someone want to make a whole ass recipe blog i can send them but eh. i haven't said anything that's hard to find

[gaias-space]

Y’all! Finally got my first draco smut! I hope your all like it!! ❤️ any requests send me a dm!

DRACO X READER | Smut| 18+

CW- light degrading| unprotected sex| swearing | SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Plot- you sit with your enemy draco in class and a spark ignites when a potion gone wrong causes you to grip his thigh…

You make your way to your potions class with professor snape with your friend Pansy. “I wonder what this new potion is, what do you think Y/N?” You flick your head to the brunette getting closer to the classroom. “You know I heard it’s a new protection charm. But I can’t be sure you’d think after the war…” your voice trails off, this was something you and everyone were still somewhat sensitive about. “It’s alright, you are just saying what I was thinking. Oh Y/n you left your sweater at my dorm from our last sleepover. Do you want to come by and get it. I won’t be home over the holidays is all.” “Oh of course I can’t believe I forgot it!” Pansy shoots you a kind look and the two of you arrive a little late to class. Snape does not look impressed with your late approach “sorry sir, it won’t happen again” you mumble before he could say anything. Each seat was taken or had one seat left, Pansy sat on a single seat pairing with Blaise.

Your eyes dart around and “oh Merlin” you mumble as you notice the only seat left is with the one and only, Draco Malfoy. You sigh and scatter quickly seating yourself before snape can complain. You and Draco NEVER got along, the moment you arrived at hogwarts the two of you despised each-other. From hexes, spells and physical fights the two of you never saw eye to eye. And you knew this class would be a long one. Your body spiked with anxiety truly you wished he knew how his words cut like ice. And you were not in the mood today for him to be an ass. “Oh great now I have to sit with you of all people. Stupid little minx” he spat. The white haired, silver eyed boy looks straight at you, a chill rolling down your spine. “Oh don’t worry I hate this just as much as you do. If I could chose any seat in this whole class I would.” You spat back in the same tone he did. “Enough!” Yells Snape causing you and Draco to snap your heads back to his potion teaching. Professor snape was demonstrating to the class how to create a new potion today. You remembered to write down every single note you possibly could aiming to ace your assignment. You could feel a deep stare from draco throughout class and you roll your eyes. “How on earth are you even a slytherin? So anxious to get your work done.” Draco snarls. You meet his eyes and you snarl back “well maybe because not everyone is entitled draco. Now could you shut up for five minutes? I need to write this!”

The class goes by and it was time for Snape to demonstrate, your eyes glued to the potions table. “With just a dash of this…” Snape says with his deep dragging voice he pours one liquid into another. The whole class was silent as their eyes never left snapes work. The vile boils and bubbles and he reaches to grab the next ingredient. But suddenly as Snape drops the feather of a white owl the potion explodes. BOOM! It was exactly what was supposed to happen but you had no clue. You jolt in your seat and grab the closest thing to you for support. Your chest rising and falling from the loud explosion. “Don’t fret everyone, this is completely normal. All you need to do is add this to your-“ Snape explained the rest but your focus averted when you realised your hand was gripping none other then Draco’s thigh. Your nails digging into his flesh but he didn’t flinch, I’m fact he didn’t say a thing. Your cheeks burn red and you quickly unclasp your hand and remove it unable to look The white hair boy in the eyes. Why didn’t he say anything? Oh no, maybe he was plotting a huge revenge. You didn’t mean to, you were just frightened. But what you didn’t know what your small hand gripping Draco’s thigh made blood rush straight to his groin. He had always admired you and his teasing you, was a way to distract himself from his erotic thoughts about you. He felt an erection form and he refused to move trying to settle his hard on. The class was almost over and Draco didn’t say a thing you dart your eyes quickly to his face expecting anything and everything. But he simple say tall and his eyes never left snapes desk. You never wanted to admit it but he was quite charming when he wasn’t barking at you. His eyes grey and dominate, his hair messy and rebellious, his fingers had silver rings and you couldn’t help stare at his hands a little bit too long. His fingers were muscular and looked like they could choke- what!? You snapped your thoughts back and hang your head low. Today was full of weird events maybe things will settle later.

Snapes class ended and you had found yourself back at the Slytherin common room. Where on earth was Pansy? Crab and Goyle sat on the leather lounge playing chess. “Hey where is Pansy? I need my sweater”. you say sternly. “Oh she had to make a quick detour and get some things from professor sprout. She’ll be back later”. Great you thought. You thought it was best you go to her room yourself and grab it so you won’t be waiting long. You made your way to the students rooms and found yourself at Pansy’s door, not a single slytherin in sight. “Looking for something “ except one. A familiar cold voice speaks and you’re turn your head. A door across from you was opened the the tall, pale boy stood in the door frame holding your sweater. “What the hell malfoy give it back!” You storm your way to him but he marches back. You find yourself in his room. “Why on earth are you always such a jerk! And what we’re you doing in pansy’s room! Hell how did you know about my sweater!?” You furiously push the boy but he barley falls back from your weak push. “I overheard a conversation this morning and though oh what fun to tease you. I guess it was a great idea considering your little …hand incident this morning”. Your mind flashes back to when you grabbed his thigh and your skin goes pale. You turn your head unable to look him in the eye a deep sting in your chest. “Draco…just give me my sweater…” your voice barely a whisper. You each to grab it but he jolts his hand high. He was much taller then you were and you felt anger burst inside you. “I’m not a fucking child draco! Give it back you entitled jerk!” You jump hit miss catching it. “Oh how I love to see your squirm. But call me an entitled jerk one more time and I’ll end you”. His voice was cold and cruel but that didn’t matter. Your sweater really was nothing, just a thrifted piece but Draco’s ability to be the world biggest ass had you fuming. You lean closer your nose almost touching Dracos and you say loud and clear “draco malfoy, the entitled, spoilt jerk.” Suddenly Draco drops your sweater and his hand is tightly wrapped around your throat, your back hitting the wall. You let out a whimper in pain you can barley breathe. But something about his hand around your throat… no this was stupid. “Get off me you bloody prick!” You cry. “Why are you doing th-this” you say in breaths. “Because I told you, don’t call me entitled…” Draco seeing your tiny body against the wall, his large hand curled around your small neck made him feel all sorts of ways. The erotic thoughts returning and this time he couldn’t swat them away. You’d never feel the same way, wich made him want to lash out harder. But what he couldn’t control was the growing erection in his pants. He leans in closer to you his warm breath on your neck, and whispers “or I’d end you”. His buldge presses against your skirt and you let out a whimper. And Draco stops and stares. Your cheeks heat knowing draco just heard that and you know this won’t go down well. “Oh… you like this don’t you? Ha! You dirty little whore” he says in your ear his lips close to your neck and his hot breath lingering, leaving a chill down your spine but this time you liked it. Draco had a sudden urge of excitement seeing your cute little whimper from him, you wanted this as much as he did.

He pushes himself harder into you and you whimper at the hard erection pushing into your groin. your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “N-no I don’t …” you reply to his comment. Your breath shaky. Heat radiates down your body and a warm sensation tingles between your thighs. What was happening here? You hated draco…but did your really? Draco’s hand loosens around your neck but doesn’t leave and the two of you stare into eachother eyes for a moment, Draco’s leg kicks his door shit not taking his eyes off you then suddenly his lips crash onto yours. His warm mouth invaded yours and you let out a small moan feeling his tongue slide inside yours. He loved how innocent you were, how your little whimpers would roll out your mouth, how your body thrusted against his hard erection growing larger at each thrust your tiny clothed pussy gave him. Your large doe eyes took his breath away, he adores your tiny body against him. He wanted you and bad. Draco let out a deep growl and he pulled your legs up and wrapped them around his waist your tongues connecting together. “I knew you were in slytherin for a reason…your such a bad little girl” he whispers in your ear. “Oh draco..” you breathe your whole body feeling weak from his words could he get any hotter? Your hands tangled in his hair as your lips danced and you feel your back leave the wall. Draco Carries you not breaking the kiss, to his bed lying you down gently. You couldn’t believe this was happening you and Draco were enemies and yet you two were sharing such an intimate, erotic moment. Draco towers over you kissing your neck and you let out soft little moans. “I’ve wanted this for so long…” draco says and he continues kissing to your chest. He begins unbuttoning your shirt and your large breasts bounce out. You instantly cover them embarrassing and blushing red. Draco’s cool hands grab your wrists and pin them down. “There’s no need to hide darling, your so fucking sexy” he begins unclamping your bra and his pants tighten, Almost painful to be this hard just at the sight of your pink, perky, soft nipples. One hand kneads your breast and his mouth sucks and licks the other. “Oh ..fuck dray” you whimper, your breathing heavy and loud. His free hand traces down your curves and he spreads your thighs open. He lifts his head after sucking your nipple and smirks. “Merlin, you gave me such a hard on today when you grabbed my thigh…” his fingers touched your soaked panties and he chuckles. “I see I make you feel just as good darling.” You nod innocently “mhm… I have wanted this for so long too”. Without another word he kisses you again his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clothes clit. Moans escape your mouth and your arch your back aching for more. Your pussy begins to drip and Draco groans at the sight. He wanted to see that cute little face of yours cry for him. Draco hooks his fingers into your panties and drops them down to the floor and places his palm back on your heat. His fingers gently caressing your wet folds. “Mmm dray…p-please”. You beg wanting to feel him. “Mmm such an impatient little girl begging for my fingers.” Draco’s beautiful silver eyes connect with yours, his face filled with lust. His fingers tease your enterance and he gives you a look of consent. You nod wanting him badly and your ok was all he needed.

Draco’s fingers slammed deep inside you and you let out a loud moan your head hitting the bed under you. “F-fuck dray!” His fingers curl and hit your sweet spot, a spot you didn’t know existed until now. Your knuckles go white from gripping his black and green bed sheets, your chest dropping with each heavy breath. Your high already so close. “Mmm such a beautiful pussy y/n.” You moan at his words and ride your hips with his fingers. “Oh dray I’m close!” You scream as his fingers thrust fast inside you. Suddenly draco pulls his fingers out a disappointed cry falls out your mouth. But your eyes freeze when You see him unzip his pants and pull his boxers down. His hard cock slaps his stomach. Your jaw drops as you question wether it will fit inside you. His tip red and dripping with precum. His hand gently strokes himself a few times and he leans closer to you teasing your entrance with his cock. “Don’t worry darling I won’t break you…not tonight”. You gasp at his words and feel your pussy clench and throb. His hand holds yours supportively as he slowly enters inside you stretching you out. “Fuck so tight and all for me” he grunts. You gasp in pleasure as his large cock stretches you out. Draco eases into you until you start to thrust against him. “Move draco please…I want you” you beg and Draco listened. He starts to thrust inside you slowly increasing his pace. Soon he was pounding hard inside you holding your hips his shirt still on but his tie loose and his hair shaggy. He looked so god like in this moment and you couldn’t help but smile as he bottoms out. “F-fuck y/n you feel so good” he hisses thrusting harder. You feel him hitting your cervix and you moan loud your tongues colliding once more. You feel the tightness in your stomach again and you were close and Draco’s face said he was too. Erotic moans escape both your mouths and the room was filled with loud slaps as his hips collided with yours. “Oh dray I’m close I’m gonna cum!” You cry out your eyes rolling at the back of your head. You wanted this so bad and your whole body was on fire, you hadn’t felt this electricity in your body before. You longed for him, ached for him and you were getting everything you wanted. Your Waḻls clench around Draco’s cock, his orgasm close too. “Cum y/n be a good little slut and cum for me”. He says pumping into you healing you ride out your orgasm. You scream his name and fall apart around him your cum gushing all over his cock and soon after draco pumps two more times before hot ropes of cum hit your cervix. “Ah fuckkk” groans draco. The two of you pant heavily and he slides out of you laying on his bed. Draco hadn’t cum like that in a long time like that and he was almost in shock. The two of you stare into eachothers eyes both in awe until the peace was ruined. “Y/n hello? Where are you?” Pansy calls from the dorms. You and draco jolt up and quickly put your clothes on and fix your hair.

You quickly flick your wand with a cleaning spell and the two of you look good as new. Your face was still flushed you couldn’t believe what your two had just done. You pick up your sweater and rush to the door. “PANSY! Hey! I’m here!”

“Y/n what on earth are you doing in Draco’s room? Also I’m sorry I’m late I had a few things to do I’m so sorry we’re you waiting long?” You feel draco come up beside you “hey pans, I found her sweater on your drawers when you left. You should of seen the look on her face! Stupid girl” he tsks and you knew he was being playful this time. “Oh draco stop stealing my things! Especially when there not mine! I’m so sorry y/n he’s such a brat! I’m glad you have your sweater back but I need to pack for the holidays” you nod and smile kindly but hold in a gasp as you feel draco gently squire your ass. Pansy was completely unaware and you try to keep your cool.

“I’ll catch up with you soon Pansy, just need to check I grabbed my things. Asshole made me drop everything!”

Pansy rolls her eyes “yes he is quite the piece of work”. She stomps her foot and returns to her room Cleary angry at draco. You turn and face him again. Draco grabs your wrist and pushes you behind the door. “Hmm an asshole am I? Did that asshole make you cum?” He smirks and you blush again. “Y-yes… I need to catch up with Pansy before she leaves for the holidays.” You say slowly leaving his grip. “Alright love. But until I see you again tomorrow..” his hand tilts your chin and you look up at him, his lips kissing you once more before letting you go. “I’ll come back tomorrow” you whisper as you make your way to pansy’s room. “I’ll be waiting” he whispers back with a wink. Oh if only tomorrow could come sooner.

[aroaceconfessions]

TL;DR I think people feel too entitled to stranger’s specific attractions and feelings and labels when really, it’s none of their business.

I must admit I’m tired of labels. I love being aro, I love our flag, but I wish I could just live my life without having to clarify to others my specific degree of attraction as if it’s their business at all. I’m so tired of having to work to be seen as a normal person! I just want to live my life without being disrespected for… literally nothing. For my feelings, how I describe attraction.

A while ago I saw an ask on this blog that was weirdly controversial (the one about how somebody didn’t understand why people were comfortable with sexual fantasies, and everyone in the replies was calling them puritanical and thought-policing) and it made me realize that I’m just tired of this. If nobody cared about sexuality this wouldn’t even be a problem. Like yeah, some people get sex fantasies, yeah some other people don’t like those. Personally I don’t fully understand sex or attraction or how it is in any way connected to romance (for some reason I just cannot fathom the idea that romantic love can lead to sex? Idk) but that’s my brain and how it works, that’s fine, who cares.

What I mean is of course there’s going to be ace people who think that sexual fantasies are really weird or gross. Like duh, that literally is not a natural thing for them to experience, and if they also lack empathy (I mean textbook definition ability-to-put-yourself-in-others-shoes empathy, not compassion or sympathy) they will struggle to understand how it is just a natural thing for others! And that’s fine! That’s in their brain, that’s how it works up there, as long as they aren’t going around telling people they’re disgusting freaks for attraction or just being mean about it then it really doesn’t matter. And it goes the same for people who do experience attraction, like of course they aren’t going to understand not experiencing attraction because they just do and that’s just how it is.

I’m just tired of the labels, I feel like if we never had these in the first place, if everyone was a little more respectful, we wouldn’t have this issue. I just don’t get why some people don’t understand that what goes on in another person’s head is not your business, positively or negatively! You really don’t need to know what’s going on up there and that’s okay. Attractions of all sorts exist and really, I think it’s difficult for them to fit into just one box (see: “it’s a spectrum”). Labels are great sometimes for finding community and people who share an experience, but at some point they just get so restrictive, like people start saying that every ace person needs to be one way and every bi person needs to be this way and lesbians have to be that way and it’s just. Exhausting. I’m tired of having a long list of names for my attractions and non-attractions, I literally just want to live without having to tell people that I’m aromantic in order for them to not hit on me.

Sorry if this was rambly, it’s almost 3 am and I’m exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. I hope it was coherent.

[troquantary]

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Cult girl and Hannibal go through an exhaustive list of potential adoptive couples. 

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, christianity, discussion of pregnancy and family planning, adoption, murder and cannibalism 

Step two: find an adoptive family.

Some would say your list of expectations for potential adoptive parents was too extensive. Impossible for any human to reach. But it was really just the bare minimum.

Regardless of if they were two men, two women, one of each, or a few people, the parents had to be trustworthy. It wasn't easy to earn Hannibal's trust, but he could recognize those who had the capacity to right away. It was a little instinct you had dubbed 'friend or food'.

On paper, the apostolic pastor and his wife of 19 years seemed like the perfect candidates. The adoption agency tried to push them on you, as they had a great track record with adopting from them prior. Three boys, all of which were honors students.

Hannibal insisted on a formal introduction, during which you could conduct a proper, though surreptitious, interview. It was an invitation to dinner.

He invited the couple into his office, where a pot of tea and an interrogation was waiting for them. Then there was you. Barely-pregnant little [F/N], feeling entirely safe so long as your fiancé was beside you.

"You're doing the right thing, y'know." The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Landon, said upon meeting you.

"How do you mean?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"All god's life is precious." She said, placing a hand on your not-even-remotely-showing-yet stomach. "You're walking in obedience to the lord by giving this child a shot at life."

Strike one: bringing up religion unprompted. Strike two: touching me without asking first.

You wanted to swat her hand away, but remembered that patience was a virtue. She and her husband took a seat across from you.

"Y'know," The man began, his mannerisms eerily similar to those of his wife. "I don't usually begin with the god talk, but I think a higher power had to have been involved in the conception of this- well, our child. I'd like to think the good lord brought us together today."

Strike three: already believes he is entitled to my child. You're outta here.

"Don't flatter the adoption agency like that, Jacob." Hannibal chuckled, placing his teacup on the side table.

"I'm serious, Dr. Lecter." Jacob interjected. "Faith and I really do believe that god put us on this earth to prepare his smallest soldiers for the spiritual war."

You shot Hannibal a side glance that said 'can we please just eat them now?'.

The answer was no. Hannibal liked to play with his food.

"And your adult children have all moved out?" He asked.

"That's right." Jacob nodded. "We have plenty of room in our five-bedroom house for the new little slugger to run around in."

"And if it's a girl!" The wife interrupted. "We have enough closet space for all the denim maxi-skirts money could buy."

Strike four: arbitrarily genders the behavior of a nine-week-old embryo.

The man then returned the teacup to the table, not bothering to use the saucer and instead leaving a nasty ring of condensation on the polished mahogany.

"Okay." Hannibal huffed, resignedly rising from his seat. He pulled two hypodermic needles from his back pocket and carefully, subtly stuck them onto the couples' necks. They couldn't even scream.

The tacos al pastor that followed (after a few days of marinating, of course) were exquisite.

The next week brought a new couple to your doorstep. Frank and Angela, they were named. Their claim to fame was that their oldest son played football for one of those big southern party schools. Either Auburn or Alabama. There was hardly a difference.

You sat for what felt like hours listening to the man speak in unintelligible football babble, waiting for him to take a breath. Surprisingly, it was the mom who got him to finally shut up.

"Frank, please." She said with more frustration than this one situation even remotely warranted. Either she had enough intuition to know she was being tested, or she’d spent the last decade putting up with this. Possibly both. "You're boring our hosts to death."

"What? No way! She loves it!" Frank replied, then turned to you. Not to Hannibal, just you. “Aren’t you having a great time, sweetheart?” 

Strike one: takes advantage of the female socialization to be passive and polite, allowing himself to take up the most space.

You shook your head. “I hate football.” 

His wife looked quite pleased with herself. 

“Angie, I just wanted her to know what good breeding her son is going to have.” He said, without a lick of irony or self-awareness. He eyed you up and down and licked his lips. “And it is mutual, I see.” 

The room went quiet as everyone tried to determine whether he was serious or if it was just a fucked-up joke. The longer the silence lingered, the more you realized he wasn’t kidding. Angela looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I don’t know what the agency told you, Mr. Wyatt,” Hannibal said, trying not to grit his teeth. “She isn’t a surrogate. She’s already pregnant.” 

Frank’s jaw hung dumbly open. “I thought you were looking for a sperm donor? I just-” 

“No.” You cut him off, raising your hand and covering your face. “I don’t want to know what you thought.” 

“Well, I would!” Angela interjected, righteous fury eclipsing what should have been crippling embarrassment. “What exactly did you think this was, Francis?” 

“The file said that he was over fifty, so I just assumed--” Frank rationalized, his voice far too loud for the room. “Y’know? That she wanted a baby that wouldn’t come out all funny-looking?” 

“You’re disgusting.” You blurted out. 

“Francis Howard Wyatt,” Angela scolded as if she were talking to her son. “You are forty-eight and the only increasing part of your body is your blood pressure. Why on Earth would any woman choose you over her smart, handsome doctor fiancé?”

This made Hannibal sit up a little straighter. He wanted Francis on the butcher’s block yesterday, but he momentarily considered letting Angela live. 

“They’re not married?” Frank whispered, or whatever the loud-aggressive-toxic-masculinity version of whispering was. He paused, as the dead hamster on the wheel powering his brain crept back to life. “That actually makes sense.” 

Angela loudly smacked her hand against her face. “Dr. Lecter, Ms. [L/N], I am so sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Wyatt.” Hannibal stood up, readying the next batch of needles. “It just makes what I’m about to do easier.” 

It took quite a bit of restraint to not make their deaths hurt, but he made up for it when it came time to carve. He had fun running his fittingly small penis through a meat grinder. Not with any intent to cook it, though. Just because. 

Hannibal wanted to make Francis Wyatt into the least dignified meal imaginable. You quickly recalled going to a friend’s barbeque in Georgia and encountering a horrendously Southern delicacy known as Frito Pie. You proposed the idea to Hannibal, who, after reviling in abject horror at the notion of eating something out of a bag, agreed that it was the most fitting end. He could spare a few pounds of flesh to grind up and make into chili. 

The third week brought yet another couple. They seemed smart enough to realize your invitation wasn't the friendly olive branch the others had interpreted it as. Their healthy skepticism was refreshing, to say the least. Then, you met them: Max and Archie.

"You'll have to forgive my partner's paranoia." Max said upon entering the house. He tugged playfully at Archie's hand. "We watched Get Out recently, so an invitation to the suburbs sounded some alarms in his sleep-deprived brain."

"I love that movie." You chimed in. "It reminds me of my family."

"Oh no." Archie's eyes widened in only half-pretend fear. He shot an I-told-you-so look in his partner's direction. 

"But my favorite horror flick has to be Midsommar." You added. "My friends and I saw a midnight screening and we didn't sleep at all that night."

"But have you seen Hereditary?" Archie posited.

"Of course." You shrugged. "Aster is totally genius."

You made more than just polite conversation with the couple. Max, despite his young age, was a skilled data analyst and day trader. He attributed his success to the hard work of his immigrant parents. Archie was an environmental lawyer and land activist. He was also a bit of a thrill junkie, indulging in everything from scary movies to bungee jumping.

It didn't take long to realize that you wouldn't be eating them. They were far too pleasant of company to eat.

"So when is this baby planning to make its entrance?" Archie asked, gesturing to you. "You don’t look all that pregnant to me."

You put your hand over your slightly-protruding stomach. "Late August, I believe. If everything goes according to plan."

"You're not far along at all, aren’t you?" Max observed. "That gives us plenty of time to prove ourselves to you."

"Believe me." You put up your hand. "You're doing a great job so far."

“If you like horror stories, we might have to indulge you in the last two encounters we had.” Hannibal commented, leaning back comfortably in his chair. That was a good sign. “No blood was spilled, thank god. Would have ruined my carpets. But believe me when I tell you it came very close.” 

The couple laughed along. Archie leaned in like he was about to tell a life-shattering secret. “You wouldn’t believe the hoops we had to jump through to even have the chance to adopt. And I don’t want to say that it’s because we’re an interracial gay couple, but...” 

“Agencies aren’t exactly colorblind.” You finished, via his prompting. 

“She gets it.” Archie pointed to you. “See, Maxie? She agrees with me.” 

Max pushed his glasses up his nose. “I never said I disagreed.” 

You spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the conversation to take a sharp left turn off a cliff, but it didn’t happen. They were wonderful company; polite, intelligent and articulate. Exactly the kind of people you’d want to see taking care of your child. 

You’d have to look for you next meal elsewhere. 

[scarlets-maximoff]

Hi! Here's my prompt: jealous!Wanda and oblivious Agatha. Agatha is always flirting with someone, it's just natural to her, but Wanda doesn't like it one bit.

hi, anon!! I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long, but it is finally here: some feral, jealous wandagatha thing that might have become slightly darker than I intended!!

thank you for the prompt by the way, i loved writing it! enjoy, my dude <3

—

She followed Agatha's every movement. Every slow curling of lips, every light touch to someone's arm. Wanda sees it all. And she doesn't like it one. Bit.

Strange has asked them to help him infiltrate a party, some gathering of rich people who were—his words, not hers—conspiring to 'threaten and destroy the very fabric of reality’. Wanda knows a lot, more than she would want to admit, about reality and its workings. Why wouldn't she? She was the Scarlet Witch, Harbinger of Chaos, and—as those idiots would soon find out—Agatha Harkness' wife.

And as such, she is entitled to care for and protect what is hers. Even when she is not supposed to. Don't get her wrong, she is perfectly aware of Agatha's role on this mission. The relentless flirting, the sultry tones of her voice, the lingering touches-

It is all an act. Her wife needs to do it if they want to stop whatever threat they’re fighting against, but to do so, the couple has to pretend that they aren't married. Wanda knows it's crucial for Agatha to get the precious information they require. But she can't help herself.

Wanda can't help the way her sight blurs with red, dark, and heavy and furious when she sees a hand lingering on Agatha's waist. She can't help the sneer on her lips at the sight of her wife, her Agatha, giving in to this man's touch. The rational part of her brain, the one that controls most of her actions—nowadays, at least—tries to dissolve the other part of her from going over there and, and- Calm down, Wanda, calm down!

She doesn't.

"Um, hello there!" She grips the man's shoulder, the touch soft enough to not bruise, but hard enough to make him jump. At least he’s not putting his paws on her wife anymore. "I see that you've met my friend," There's a pleading look in her woman's eyes, it says something like Wanda, I was almost getting what we need, it's okay- Her eyes, which once were of deep, vigorous green, now flash scarlet. A warning. "I'm Wanda, a pleasure to meet you…?" Behind the man's towering figure, her wife is softly shaking her head, blue eyes worried. Wanda doesn’t budge an inch.

She extends a slender hand towards him, a strained smile on her face. Her magic starts creeping around her mind, but she wills it away. Not now, she thinks, I'll have my fun first. On the other hand, the man has a slightly confused, if not irritated, look in his eyes. "I'm Chris." They shake hands. Wanda wants to squeeze it until its bones break; until he falls on his knees and begs-

His handsome face twists into a frown as if he is constipated. Behind him, she hears Agatha snicker. "We were in the middle of something here, miss. Excuse-"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt! But if you just let me borrow her for a minute…" And Wanda watches as faint tendrils of purple magic, almost translucent to the untrained eye, touch his temples. His features relax into passiveness. Shoulders hunched, a hazy look on his blue orbs, Chris goes away.

By the time she closes the distance between them, the guy is already lost in the crowd.

"Wanda, what were you thinking? I was this close to getting the intel we need! I cannot believe-” Wanda doesn’t let Agatha finish, already taking her away to the closest empty room she can find. Agatha mutters nonsense under her breath, struggling to keep up with her taller, legs-for-days wife. Wanda's rings dig into the tender skin of her forearm, and something in the back of her mind scratches against its surface. Looking up to Wanda, she notices a dark shadow looming on her gaze.

Agatha shivers from head to toe. Something is not right.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Agatha tries to untangle herself from Wanda's hold, but to no avail. As if snapped back to reality, the redhead suddenly lets her go. There are red tendrils swirling between her fingers. "Dear? What is it? Please, tell me." Wanda waves her hand and-

In a blink, both women find themselves inside a dimly lit kitchen, only moonlight shining through the half-opened window on the back. There's a confused, almost catatonic look on Wanda's gaze, and this is what scares Agatha the most. It is as if the woman herself did not know what was happening and, most importantly, why.

Approaching her wife carefully, Agatha closes the distance between them with an extended hand, which is promptly held by Wanda's. With a tenderness many would have thought uncommon but only a few knew it existed, Agatha lifts her other hand to gently caress Wanda's cheek, worry never leaving her eyes. She asks again, "What happened back there, darling?" Yet again a shadow crosses her lover's face, red flashing over green orbs.

"He was touching you, putting his hands all over you and I just- I couldn't stand back and watch it," Wanda practically snarls, the eastern accent coming through sharp and clear, like razor blades. It is then that Agatha notices arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"You were jealous?" Disbelief hangs from her words, "Oh, honey, don't be like that… Hey, look at me," At some point Wanda has buried her face in the crook of her neck, probably to calm herself down. Gently cradling her face in her hands, Agatha takes her time to kiss her lover. To soothe her. They move in sync with one another, and by the time Agatha pulls away, there's no scarlet shadow coloring her wife's eyes.

"I'm yours, okay? Always yours," She brushes her nose against Wanda's, "And no one will ever take me away from you." Kisses her swollen bottom lip, making sure to bite it before pulling away again. She feels warm lips nipping at her neck, and has to hold back a moan.

"I know," Without moving away from their embrace, the Scarlet Witch leads them further across the room, until Agatha's back hits the wall, "I wouldn't let them." And this time, Wanda bites.

Dr Strange eyes them warily when they meet him outside the manor. Why is there a hickey on- Ugh, nevermind. Sighing, the sorcerer teleports them away.

At least they got the intel, right?

[mosswillow]

Learning To Love - Steve Rogers x Reader (featuring Texas vibes)

Summary: Life always does this thing where it puts you in situations you swore you were done experiencing. You’re done having relationships, but they may not be done with you.

Warnings: Smut, feelings, angst, interrupted assault  (In relation to this, attacker going unpunished, intimidation, stalker vibes.), mature themes, 18+ adult content, slow burn?

A/N: This is a gift for @joannie95 for the Hoelentine’s Day challenge! I hope you like it. This isn’t a dark fic but it is a little heavy, there’s a healthy dollop of anxiety and feelings throughout with a happy ending.

Thanks to  @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares and @drabblewithfrannybarnes  for putting this whole thing together, it’s such a fun challenge!

By clicking keep reading you confirm you’re over 18. This is mature content, be careful.

Unlovable.

When asked to describe yourself it’s the first word you think of. Your very first boyfriend spent months emotionally abusing you and by the end of the relationship it’s what you truly believed about yourself. Every relationship after has been the same. Your insecurities and inability to trust causing tension that eventually sabotages any chance at making things work; and with each failed relationship your view of yourself becomes more and more loathsome. Self hatred and depreciation surround you in a cloak of misery, convincing you that they’re your friends.  It’s all your fault, you deserve all of it, You’re unlovable.

So you don’t do relationships anymore. You want nothing more than to love and be loved, to hold hands and kiss under the moonlight. You want a partner to share your life with, an emotional connection that transcends yourself, creating a whole new person.

If only you were good enough, worthy enough for love.

But you’re not.

---

“No eating in here Dr. Rogers,” you chide.

Steve looks up at you and gives a smirk.

“How about a little bribe.” He holds up a bag of beaver nuggets. You roll your eyes and look around before sticking your hand in and grabbing a few puffs.

“I knew you couldn’t be perfect all the time,” He teases.

“Don’t you have an office or something?”

“I like it better here, I get to be scolded by a beautiful librarian and don’t have to deal with the other professors.”  

You’ve known Steve for years. He started teaching at the same time you joined the library staff at Rice. He’s genuine and kind. You’ve watched him help countless students outside of office hours. Everyone likes him, including you. You really like him a lot. That’s why you can’t let yourself entertain the possibility of being with him. You can’t lose him. You can’t bear the inevitable conclusion of him looking you in the eyes and telling you he’s done, that you’re too much for him.

“Well you’ll have to pack it up, they’re sending everyone home because of the hurricane.”

“It’s barely even a hurricane, more like a tropical storm,” Steve scoffs.

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

You close the library down before heading to your car. The wind has already started and the sky darkens by the second. You smell the slight scent of sea air and know it’s close. The humidity, which you forgot could even get this bad, causes you to start sweating profusely and you want to get home and take a shower before the storm starts. You have a pint of blue bell waiting for you at home along with a stack of unread books, a quiet night sounds perfect.

“Hey.”

You whip around and see a familiar face, a grad student who visits the library often. Alex, you remember.

“Sorry, I just closed the library down. You'll have to wait until the school opens.”

He takes a small step forward, close enough that your personal space is violated, while at the same time far enough to where the invasion feels almost accidental.

“I’ve watched you around campus, noticed your schedule.” It’s not an accident.

It’s not unusual for students to flirt with you but this is less flirting and more just creepy.

“Oh, um yeah I work a lot.” you take a step back and he follows.

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” He states.

You stare at him and take another step back, hitting your back on your car. You grab onto the handle and he reaches out and grabs your hand.

“Hey don’t be like that. I’m a good guy. I won’t hurt you.”

You pry your hand away..

“One date, say yes.” He says, slowly pushing his body towards you.

“No, I have to go.”  

You press yourself against your car as his body goes rigid.

“You’re such a fucking tease, parading around me for weeks.”

He takes a tiny step back but places his hands against your car, caging you in. You close your eyes and freeze in fear. Your mind screams at you to move but your body just won’t.

He’s suddenly pulled away from you and when you open your eyes the only thing visible is Steve’s back.

“She said no, why don’t you move along and maybe spend some time considering why you feel entitled to women who clearly aren’t interested.”

Alex and Steve stare at each other for a few slow moments before Alex scowls at you and walks away.

“Are you ok?” Steve turns to you.

“I’m fine.” you lie, crossing your arms to avoid shaking.

Steve raises his eyebrows and looks you up and down. You’re not entirely sure how it happens but somehow you end up sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's truck, looking at your apartment building. Rain has started coming down in earnest and you dread running through it.

“Are you going to be ok alone?” Steve asks

“Are you?” You reply.

You look at eachother and your mind clears. His blue eyes stare at you with concern. Steve's hands are still on the steering wheel, clutching on like it might disappear if he lets go. You don’t want to be alone and you can tell that he doesn’t either. You want to feel safe and right now Steve is the only one who makes you feel that way. It would be so easy to invite him in, you know he would say yes.

“You don’t have a car. do you have food? Bottled water? A portable charger?” Steve asks.

“You’re the one that said it’s barely a hurricane.”

Steve sighs and releases his hands from the steering wheel.

“Just call me if you need me.”

You nod and climb out of the truck. The transition from the hot rain to your air conditioned apartment causes you to start shivering and even after you change and cover yourself in a warm blanket you still shake uncontrollably.

---

The storm lasts three days, worse than you were expecting but nothing like Harvey.

Steve shows up at your apartment bright and early a bag of conchas and breakfast tacos in hand. You climb in his truck and buckle your seatbelt. Steve eyes your book bag before backing up.

“You’re not going to work are you?”

“It’s been three days.” you reply.

He looks at you like you’re crazy and you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“It wasn’t that bad, you got there before anything actually happened,” you say.

He opens his mouth and breathes in before biting his lip and driving you to work without another word.

Steve walks you to your car every day after work. You don’t ask him to, he just does. It’s an unsaid expectation you both have. The first week is awkward, You both say almost nothing to each other. The second week though Steve finally breaks the silence.

“How have you been?”

You shrug.  

“I filed a complaint. He’s barred from the library and promised not to come near me.” you say.

Steve purses his lips.

“Do you feel safe though?”

“No...”

Steve stiffens and you reach out and grasp his shoulder.

“Thank you for walking me to my car.”

“Of course,” Steve closes the door for you and you drive away.

Steve cracked something on your exterior. You had been pushing off the feelings before Steve asked you how you were and now you can’t push them down any longer. You get in the shower and let the warm water wash over you. At first you feel raw and then angry and then for the first time since it happened you cry. It feels silly, to let something so seemingly small affect you so much. It could have been so much worse, it’s not like anything actually happened. Maybe that’s what scares you, not what happened but the implication of what could have. He invaded your space and intimidated you, making you feel small and helpless. If it wasn’t for Steve…

You let yourself fall apart until the water turns cold, then you pick yourself up and wrap yourself in a soft towel.

You look at the woman in your bathroom mirror and see someone who isn’t you. She’s broken and hurting, her eyes swollen from crying. She looks like she’s about to fall over from exhaustion. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. She has every right to feel upset and frightened about it. She didn’t deserve to have her safety threatened, nobody deserves that.

You didn’t deserve it.

You go to work the next day and the day after that. Days turn into weeks turn into months and the fear slowly leaches out of you as you reach out for help. The woman in your bathroom mirror deserves therapy and so do you.

Steve is always there. He walks you to your car every day. He starts texting you and you text him back. You go out to dinner with him, an ethiopian place this weekend and a mediteranian food truck the next. You form inside jokes and slowly you find yourself telling Steve little things about yourself.

“Why are you single?” You ask him one day.

“I had a girlfriend, she’s not with us anymore. After she… I guess I just… I wasn’t in a place for a long time to date anyone, I cringe now at some of the things I did while dating after she passed.”

He leans back and gives you a little smile.

“I’ll know when it’s the right time to jump back in - when it’s the right person.”

You open up about your past and he listens. He tells you about growing up as the smallest kid in his class, how he was bullied and how suddenly people started treating him differently when he hit a late growth spurt. You feel closer to him than you’ve ever felt with anyone.

---

Steve walks you to your car. Tomorrow is your off day and you stop to thank him and remind him you aren’t working the next few days. He’s looking at you and shifts on his feet, you furrow your brows in concern.

“It’s Valentine's day tomorrow.” He blurts out.

You take a step towards your car, knowing where this is going and not wanting it to go any further.

Steve is the one who holds you together, his friendship helping you in so many ways. He holds power over you though, power to throw you aside and break you apart. You can’t be cast away, not again.

“If you don’t have plans maybe I can make you something for dinner at my place?”

You turn away and grab your door handle.

“Sorry, I’m busy.”

“Oh of course, yeah that’s fine.”

You watch Steve bring his hand up to his forehead in the rearview mirror as you drive away.

That evening you write the text, it’s cowardly but you don’t think you can face him.

I don’t need you to walk me to my car anymore. Thank you for your help but I think our relationship should be professional from here on out.

What? No, we’re friends. Are you ok?

You turn your phone off and take a sleeping pill only to be woken in the middle of the night by pounding on your door.

Steve stands in your doorway. His eyes are red and his hair is messy. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

Steve stares at you and you look away.

“What is this about?”

“What is what about?”

“We’re friends. I’m not going to stop being your friend just because you don’t want a relationship. I know this isn’t one sided, that you feel the same way about me. Why are you trying to push me away?”

You cross your arms and look down and he leans over, putting himself in your line of sight.

“If I let you in I’ll get hurt,” you confess.

“Why do you think that?”

‘I..” You stutter

It’s not one moment. Not any one breakup you’ve been through. It’s not even what happened months ago during the hurricane. It’s everything. It’s self hatred, overthinking and analyzing. It’s all the anxiety and stress of life that compounds into fear. Fear of failing and of loss, of getting hurt and breaking. You feel like the only way to keep yourself up and moving is by pushing him away.

“You’re so scared of being hurt but Y/N, you’re hurting. You’re doing to yourself the very thing you’re so scared of.”

Tears start forming, Steve brings his hand up and wipes one away before pulling you into a hug and letting you cry into his chest.

He shifts his face close to your ear and speaks softly.

“I have fear too, but you know what I’m the most scared of? I’m scared of not being your friend anymore. We don’t have to be in a relationship but please don’t cut me out.”

His voice hitches and his grip tightens.

“I love you, I care about you and always will.”

You pull back and look at him, a tear escapes one of his eyes and he promptly wipes it away.

“I’m scared,” you say.

“I am too.”

Your heart beats rapidly as you look up into Steve's bloodshot eyes and see the pain that you’re feeling mirrored back at you. Steve holds power over you but for the first time you realize that you hold that same power over him. You never thought you would be willing to put yourself in a vulnerable position again but somehow, here you are. You put your hand over your heart and feel the life pump out if it and through your veins.

reaching up tentatively, you bring your hand to his face grabbing his cheek gently. You stand up tall and slide your hand behind his neck, bringing him in and kissing him. Tension releases from both of you as you press your lips together, embracing in a warm hug. You pull away and he brings you in for another kiss, this time pushing you into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.

It’s a flurry of body parts and heat. You’re ripping off each other's clothing. Steve kisses your neck and you bring your hand to his chest and feel down his abdomen. He groans when you get to his dick and the next thing you know you’re on the bed arching your back as he slams into you. You open your mouth to moan but nothing comes out, Instead your eyes roll to the back of your head as an orgasm washes through you and carries you away.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” He says.

He stills on top of you and then looks down making eye contact before rolling beside you and pulling you into a hug.

“That was...” Steve starts

“Amazing.” you finish.

You pry yourself from Steve and walk to the bathroom to clean up, stopping at the mirror to look at your post sex appearance.

Maybe there’s no way around it. Maybe life will stick you in situations and force you forward against your will. You weren’t trying to let Steve into your life but somehow here he is.

For the first time you don’t don’t feel like this unlovable person. You’re not scared he’s going to leave you or that you’re going to ruin the relationship.

You have a feeling you’ve never truly experienced before and now it all makes sense. Somehow in the last few months you’ve learned to love. You look at yourself in the mirror and see someone worthy.

You’ve spent all your time and energy pushing people away when you should have been building yourself up. You thought that taking care of yourself meant hiding away and putting up a wall.

Self care isn’t a bubble bath or a glass of wine and It’s not something that happens out of fear or anxiety. It’s affording yourself the same kindness and forgiveness that you would give anyone else. It’s looking at yourself in the mirror and recognizing that you deserve to love and to be loved. It’s giving yourself permission to feel however you feel without guilt or shame. It’s love in its purest form and you deserve it.

You are not unlovable.

Steve walks up beside you and kisses your temple.

“When you said you loved me...” you start.

“I meant it.”  He says quickly.

You turn and look at him, biting your lip before saying something you’ve been so scared of for so long. You kiss his cheek and smile.

“I love you.”  

[celestialmarks]

“I’m not the bad one here”: Muu Analysis and Interpretation

here is my personal muu analysis and interpretation. i'm really wondering: does muu really believe herself to be justified? is this a front she's presenting because her apologies remained unheard to the bitter end? is she really vindictive and somewhat indifferent deep down, or is she really pretending to protect herself? somewhat a bit of both? this is what i'll be trying to answer. i'm going to be using : - her official character intro in the character intros MV - her intro voice lines (from the official website) - her interview questions - her drama CD content basically every piece of muu extra content we've got, aside from minimal interactions from the app. AS WELL AS - her MV, After Pain, which i'm going to be deciphering based on the color coding! i don't think anyone has done this in full yet (if anyone did, i apologize)

(general TW for discussions & depiction of severe bullying)

as a general disclaimer,

i'm not going to reiterate points that have already been made. if you've looked at youtube comments of previously made analysis, it should be enough to determine what's going on. i'm interested in exploring why muu may feel justified in her actions and what the "darker" side of her is, is all.

there have been no hints as to the fact that she was a bully in the past or something. it could still come out that she was, or that her behavior was awful in whatever way (which i really wouldn't like bcse it reinforces the notion that bullied people "have to had deserved it" which is gross) and it still WOULD NOT change my opinion of her bcse she's still been through all that and pushed to the limit. at the end of the day, there's no way she lied about or downplayed this. she WAS horribly bullied and she almost died from it.

muu has her flaws, clearly. i'm just pointing out what they are here, her mentality and how it might allude to her being shown in a less sympathetic light next round, but that's it.

first, where does the "muu feeling justified" even come from?

to begin with, it's been stated in her intro "she can have a attitude at some times." it's also confirmed by the insults on the blackboard, transcribed in eng and edited onto the MV's visuals here (TW suicide baiting, self-harm baiting).

"So arrogant" as well as "are you looking down on us?" are written on the first blackboard, "eww poor people" on the second.

in her drama CD, muu also appears to be :

overly blunt at times 

spoiled. used to being treated well, since she's rich

quite manipulative, even if she's straightforward about it

i suggest u read the whole thing to get a sense of what she's like, if you haven't yet!

once again and at the risk of repeating myself... she still doesn't deserve any of what happened even if she was condescending or flaunted her wealth. which i don't even think might be the case (it's not like the bullies are objective, they're just using it as a way to justify their treatment of her. and in the MV she says herself "There's no special meaning / I just got the short end of the stick"). she's kind of naive about her wealth (see the crepe incident dfdghjd) she doesn't appear to do it to annoy others or look down on them. she's just used to a life of comfort.

moreover, it's been implied she may have been taken advantage of initially because of her wealth (see the chat on her phone and the picture of her with the three other girls, which i'll call Girl A, Girl B and Girl C for convenience's sake and also bcse the ref to dr is funny). probably her bluntness and occasional attitude caused her more problems, but i'll come back to what triggered the bullying later.

regarding her manipulative behavior, it's because she's used to getting her way (crepe incident, her telling Es she'll just make him like her : "All I have to do is gain your favour, right?"). "my sorry spells must be wearing off" in After Pain alludes to this. since she was previously quite privileged, she had never been treated like this before. even when she made mistakes she was forgiven, so she may have been a bit of an entitled brat, once again. when she starts being bullied, her world REALLY turns upside down. she's so used to getting her way that she even THREATENS Es at the end of the drama CD. we're past manipulative here. no way to know if she has done this in the past though. this might just be due to her desperation, really, but the fact that she does it right after another attempt at sweet talk does make me raise a brow

also the way she turns the tables on Es. "i won't forgive you" when she's supposed to be the one who's forgiven or not? she's rejecting the fault onto Es, just like, ALL the way through her drama CD, she's been saying she wasn't in the wrong. that's her way of justifying herself when/if she causes harm. literally she will not stop saying it : 

"I’m not the bad one here!" "I did kill them. But, they’re to blame! They made it to the point where I had to kill them… I… I had such a tough time." "Sure, I might’ve killed them, but… If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to escape. The cruel things they did to me were far worse!" "If you’re gonna say that I shouldn’t have killed them, then… Are you saying that I should’ve continued suffering forever?" "Even though I’m not the one in the wrong, they want to sentence me to penal servitude… That’s so messed-up." "It wasn’t a bad thing to do, right?" "What should I do then? What should I do in order for you to forgive me, prison guard? I’ll do anything! Um… Anything painful or embarrassing is out of the question though… And, I don’t wanna do anything scary either…"

muu is DESPERATE to be proven innocent. she'll do almost anything, though she's reluctant to put herself in any situation that might be triggering for her (understandable after what she's been through so i wouldn't say she's whining here.) in one of her intro voice lines on the website she says pretty much the same thing:

That’s right. I killed someone. But I couldn’t help it! If I didn’t, there’d be no way to escape. I’m… not the bad one.

in addition, here is what we get from her intro in the character intros MV:

"Fufu... it's your fault for doing horrible things to me." → Lack of remorse ?

from her interview questions:

"The person who did something wrong should apologize first." → Waiting for others to acknowledge their faults first, bcse she doesn't want her apologies to be ignored again... and to just be mistreated again, as a result?

maybe she wants to be declared innocent so that she can finally feel like she's heard, acknowledged. so that she can feel that her pain has reached people, and she might start apologizing outwardly then too, bcse part of her's sorry. but a part of her genuinely believes she had no other choice and as such should be treated as innocent. it's kind of a complex mentality.

what i'm focusing on is that she has this belief she is justified still.

something caught my eyes in relation to that : the "thinks she's the hero" on the second blackboard. muu has a self-righteous side like futa, even if it were (partially?) a front.

also, the quote behind every inmate : "every saint has a past and every sinner has a future." muu "saved" herself by killing someone else and now has a future, so she's her own hero? perhaps. perhaps that's what is helping her cope with the crushing guilt, and that's why she's outwardly so insistent on it.

but then again, something doesn't click: why would muu be saved from killing someone? the bullying has just gotten worse. why does she seem so relieved in that situation? is it because people at least don't touch her now, because they're scared of her? she is literally getting suicide baited though... well, i have an idea. but first let's decode After Pain properly.

more substance to her feeling justified: the color coding and hidden messages in After Pain

so, here goes. on the official site, people who got the innocent verdict are shown to have green eyes, while people who got the guilty verdict have red eyes. so from this, we can deduce that innocent = green and guilty = red.

well... muu's MV is coded like that all the way through. we have a theme of greens (cold colors) VS oranges (warm colors). to represent her thoughts in relation to her actions, and others'. they’re complementary colors, so it’s rather clear cut (black and white?) the color that's inbetween is the yellow from the screen with the handwriting writing that keeps coming back as well as... yup... the yellow from the box cutter she used to kill Girl A, her crush (presumably). and the yellow that is muu's character color! so very significant. i'll analyse After Pain sequence by sequence so u can see what i mean in detail. beginning of the MV : she's sitting in the classroom alone. the first thing we see is the green hourglass = i'm innocent! and we see the orange glow of the sunset. the light isn't hitting her directly, as u can see: she's left in the shadows = blameless, the victim here. it's hitting the blackboard with all the insults, however.

together with the lyrics this scene is basically everything about muu screaming "SEE? IT'S THEIR FAULT, LOOK WHAT THEY DID. I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING." and then of course we have the first instance of the screen with writing in yellow! this one says "ねえなんで" ("say, why?") nothing surprising there so far.

then BOOM the hourglass. very very clearly depicting her pain, her suffocating and being cut from the world. and thus proving her "innocence" bcse she's trapped, in danger of choking, and helpless.

it of course covers her (more of her basically telling you she's innocent). and then it cuts to a pinker, more orange-y scene with the bullies (they're guilty!)

and WAIT A MINUTE? WHAT IS THAT? yep... the box cutter. and what color is it in this scene? orange. it was orange here.

clearly she's saying that the others are much more at fault here. when she wields it, the box cutter is of a lighter color--still a warm color, since it's yellow. but a yellow that's very close to the lime green of her hourglass, isn't it? for now let's say it represents something in between, ambivalent feelings. the writing in yellow comes back and so does the chorus (look at how much i tried to apologize and make them stop). it feels to me like that's muu taking back the mic like HEY, listen up, you saw this right. in conclusion. here it is again: look at how innocent i am! look at how much i've suffered! and thus naturally it cuts to a hourglass scene immediately after.

nonetheless, the writing in yellow says... "でもたぶん" ("but maybe...") which is intriguing.

haven't mentioned this before but obviously muu herself is a mix of warm and cold colors, aka pink (her uniforms highlights, the sleeves and tie + her hair) and green (her eyes, with a highlight of lime/yellow...) then we're back in the classroom and once again the orange light = guilt isn't hitting her directly.

and the colors picked in the LINE chat with the others areee.... naturally, green for her, pink for the others... yellow for the whole background, just as yellow encompasses the entire MV as her true feelings on the matter.

title screen in yellow then flashes yet again, followed AGAIN by the hourglass scene (muu repeating, just like in her drama CD: "yeah, here's my whole story, and i'm innocent!")

the writing in yellow says "ねえもしも" ("hey, tell me...")

the writing in yellow flashes for the FOURTH TIME and this is the most interesting instance: "それなのに" ("even so...")

this shot is doused in orange/warmer yellow on the bullies' side and in the background too. super self-explanatory really

the orange light of guilty is still not hitting muu. meanwhile on her lap...

on the left, the bullies' stockings are blue, but they have a orange hue to them. the rest of the objects here in cold tones are all related to muu or touching her. the picture on her phone is split between yellow and blue. like the blame and innocence was, back then, even/balanced in the sense of peace and quiet, or perhaps just hidden in the background before it jumped out?

she's hit by the orange light here and please look at how the bucket is not blue at all and the floor below her is more yellow. Girl A is the one to open the door, so i think this might show Girl A's POV in relation to muu. not perceiving her innocence.

Girl A's eyes here are green and yellow, so to some extent innocent but guilty in a way that is justified in muu's mind? which is why muu reaches out to her. thus here's my theory on what happened with her : muu confessed, yes. however, the girl didn't out her. especially bcse the blackboard doesn't have any mention of muu liking girls (going by the TL previously shared at least). she just started avoiding muu. given the lyrics here: Girl A used muu's attitude concerning other matters as justification for avoiding her, which kickstarted the bullying. hence "the stabbing of the little devil's voice" which references something Girl A said about her attitude, prompting the rest of their friend group to see muu in a negative light so as to side with her. (since muu's planned counterattack to what Girl A said is a suicide note, it can only be Girl A that's the "devil". the cause.)

also please note how the light is only HALF hitting the background. she's to blame, but not entirely. not yet. besides her eyes are a different shade of green than muu's: darker, far from lime. clearly just green + yellow highlight, without the blatant "innocent" of the lighter lime. entirely ambivalent!

in this shot, the light is deserting muu's eyes. no lime green or yellow here. she just has dead eyes, resembling Girl A's eyes at the end of the video. this is muu telling us that this was her last chance not to become a corpse.

then muu reaches out to the one person she could ask for help. the one person who could have cleared any misunderstanding and possibly stopped this. she's running and everything is soooo yellow and orange. EXCEPT for the bushes which are green, a firm line (literal lines!) that allude to the possibility that Girl A might change her behavior. "perhaps she'll realized she crossed the line/know where the line is and walk off this path."

however, muu steps into the light here. she's been hit by the window's light even if we can't see it, as seen by her shadow. hence, she's already guilty, it's just out of frame (she doesn't realize/know it yet.) still, note that the light hitting her is not orange but ONLY YELLOW. less guilty than the others! but the school? orange. guilty place. guilty people

Girl A is still framed by green stuff. she has a possibility of being innocent, of being forgiven by muu, but the path she's walking is orange, clearly.

we see a tiny hourglass fall off, a timid reminder from muu "i know what you're about to see, just remember i'm not to blame." and then muu reaches Girl A and the background is just SO yellow and orange for the both of them. but notice something? on muu's side the background is more yellow. on Girl A's side it gets darker, more orange.

Girl A doesn't respond for a moment and her eyes are still green and yellow! muu has hope that she might still change for the better and forgive her! see that muu's innocent!

but nope! she rejects muu! and we get this deep orange!!! NOTHING like the yellow in the background earlier! this is the last straw for muu!

contrasting with the green of muu's hourglass breaking as she hits her limit:

yellow, vengeful fire burning next to muu. it's practically shimmering as she stabs Girl A. it's so light it's almost white.

Girl A's eyes have turned orange bcse in that moment in muu's mind SHE is the guilty one. she deserves this.

while in contrast, even if the background behind muu's very orange... her eyes are glowing lime/yellow.

i hit picture limit so this is part 1! (reblogging this to add more. here is the full post with part 2 as well)

[firelxdykatara]

So I was at work thinking about Zutara (as you do) and my mind drifted to a kat@@ng argument I tend to see a lot of. About how Aang would be so sad if Katara never returned his feelings and therefore Zutara 100% //can't// be endgame which... a) homeboy is literally 12 and would get over it, and b) BUT WHAT ABOUT KATARA THO. But it got me thinking. Is there even any evidence in canon that Air Nomads believed in wholesale monogamy or marriage? I mean, Aang never knew his parents (1/2)

(2/2) -and Aang was raised communally by the Air Nomad monks and nuns. So like, why would being with Katara (specifically JUST Katara) //forever// be something he'd hyper focus on so badly? Also, Aang is shown wanting to adhere pretty strictly to Air Nomadic teachings but in this instance he gets a pass? It just boggles me tbh. Anyway, your meta and responses are just plain amazing and would love to hear your thoughts on this.

I’ve actually talked a lot about Aang’s willful disregard for his people’s culture and customs when it clashes with something he wants, but I think most of these discussions have happened in private server spaces and I haven’t actually spoken much about it here, so let’s remedy that!

You are absolutely right--Aang’s lifelong monogamous relationship and Katara being his ‘forever girl’ clash with literally everything we actually know about Air Nomad culture. And it’s actually kind of frustrating, because this would have been an excellent chance for some worldbuilding--speak about how the Air Nomads did not hold with typical family structures, that monogamy simply wasn’t done because they practiced detachment and while that doesn’t mean they couldn’t love one another (Gyatso loved Aang a great deal, for example) it means they most likely would not have practiced relationship exclusivity.

Honestly, it would have been really cool to see a culture where monogamy was not the norm, and we get hints of it--Aang never knew his parents, and he wouldn’t have been discovered as the Avatar until years after his birth (I believe they do the toy test when the kids are toddlers or older), which means he was likely removed to the Air Temple shortly after being born. His parents most likely lived at separate temples--nuns had their own, as the temples were separated by gender--and its not a stretch to believe they didn’t have any sort of monogamous relationship. One theory I’ve seen proposted is that the AN practiced something like a yearly or bi-yearly fertility festival, where adults from the temples came together in celebration--of life, of love, of their people, of the element they breathed that informed every aspect of their lives--and I’m not suggesting wild orgies, but that many would pair off, have their own smaller celebrations, and return to the group, and this is where most pregnancies would happen.

That is, of course, pure speculation, but it would be a lot more in keeping with what we do know of the AIr Nomads than Aang deciding, at the ripe old age of twelve, that he’d found his ‘forever girl’ and he would be with her, and only her, for the rest of his life, no matter what.

It’s also very... odd, though, that Aang would even come up with this idea on his own. It’s not like there are tons of examples, as the gaang travel the world, of aggressively heterosexual couples pairing off and spending Forever together, because, well, they’re in the middle of a war and everyone has more important things to think about. And Aang’s crush, while cute and seeming more like puppy-love than anything else book 1 and most of book 2 (he literally imprinted on the first girl he saw when he hatched from the iceberg ok), becomes almost disturbingly possessive in book 3, and it really comes out of nowhere. When did Aang decide, without ever once asking, that Katara must return his feelings? And why? Because, as established, it makes absolutely no sense given what (admittedly little) we know about his own culture and how he was raised.

I realize that the Doyalist explanation is that Bryke are, themselves, aggressively heterosexual, and had decided from the jump that they wanted Aang to Get the Girl in the end, and so were determined to Make It Happen even when, given the story and how the characters had developed, it no longer made any narrative sense. (And yet they never thought to make Katara’s feelings a focus when trying to force Kataang to happen. Odd, that. Or maybe not so odd, considering their treatment of Katara in LoK. But I’m stopping myself here cause that’s a whole other rant.) But the Watsonian one paints a very unpleasant picture, especially given Aang’s actions towards Katara in book 3--during EIP in particular.

And it’s funny how Aang’s complete and total disregard for his people’s beliefs and culture, when it would deny him something he wants, is never mentioned in those ‘but Aang couldn’t kill Ozai, it goes against his culture’ posts. If Aang had demonstrated any willingness to uphold his people’s beliefs before this--like, say, following through on letting go of his attachment to Katara and understanding that if she didn’t feel the same way he did, he was not entitled to her affections and would be able to move on--then I’d be much more inclined to give those arguments credit.

As it is, however, the only reason I agree that Aang shouldn’t have had to kill Ozai is because he was just a child, and he should have been able to preserve the innocence of childhood as long as possible--but I still dislike the way his battle with Ozai ended, because he had disregarded his people’s beliefs over the entire book, he had done nothing to regain the Avatar State except get slammed against a pointy rock, and energybending was handed to him on a silver platter by a lionturtle who literally came out of nowhere to give it to him.

Not only that, but the discussion about what he would do once he actually faced the Firelord came much too late--the subject wasn’t even broached until The Southern Raiders, and thus Aang’s insistence that he can’t possibly take a life seems to come out of left field because a) he never felt any guilt over the lives he took while in the Avatar State at the end of book 1 (and this isn’t to say he was at fault for what Koizilla did while he was fused with it, but he has felt guilt over his actions in the Avatar State that were just as uncontrolled before this, and you’re telling me that he wouldn’t have seen any of that as blood on his hands? that if he killed Katara, or Sokka, or Toph, in one of those rages, he’d have just shrugged his shoulders and blamed it on the Avatar State? no), and b) there was absolutely no discussion of this before the eclipse, leaving one to wonder what, exactly, Aang was planning to do in that eight minute window where Ozai would be powerless. I don’t think it was a dance-off in the cards, that’s all I’m saying.

I’m sorry, I got incredibly off-topic. but the bottom line (TL;DR:) is: I absolutely agree with you. And it’s suspect, from both a character arc and a worldbuilding perspective, that Aang is only committed to his people’s beliefs and his culture in the one instance where he might have been asked to do something he didn’t want to, but not at all when following his own culture might have meant losing something he wanted. This not only paints him as incredibly selfish (something that is hard to dispute when looking at his behavior in book 3, though I would point out that if his arc actually followed a natural progression from books 1 and 2 he would have grown up rather than... that), but puts his culture in an incredibly simplistic light. We never get any deeper insight into what his people believed or how they lived, because Aang latches onto the first girl he sees and is determined to make her his ‘forever girl’, and there’s never any talk of how he was raised or what his people actually believed.

And even when he meets the Guru--someone much more well-versed in Air Nomad culture than Aang is, because Aang went into the ice at twelve years old and never had an opportunity to understand his culture--he almost immediately disregards what the Guru told him when it conflicts with his own desires. Sure, he says ‘I’m sorry, Katara’ when letting her go at the end of the finale (although....why he’s apologizing to her, when he’s had no indication she has feelings for him, and he certainly never asked, is beyond me), but come book 3 he’s right back to wanting to have her, and assuming he will just because he kisses her--without preamble, without any discussion of feelings, without even asking if she wants to be kissed--and flies off before the invasion.

Any way you slice it, it really doesn’t make sense, unless they wanted Aang to come across as selfish and pigheaded throughout the entirety of book 3. But I suspect that isn’t actually the image they wanted to project, and it makes me really sad when I think of what his arc could have been if it weren’t for Bryke’s insistence that he get the girl at the end of the story.

[project-sour-grapes]

My Precious Entitled Career

Despite my “success,” I've come to the realization that how I approach everything is wrong.

I am a professional in tech and an artist. My friends call me patient and hardworking beyond what is expected. In high school, I was one of those never-crack-a-book honors students with a fancy scholarship. However, when I look inward, all of these good fruits seem like an accident.

I was recently let go from a tech company that your average zoomer would know the name of. There was a conflict around compensation that played out over a week or two that escalated into my being terminated. While the decisions I made were kosher with my contract and were built upon advice from other professionals who had been in my shoes, I now consider my approach to be a failure. It's important to note that I don't regret standing up for myself, as that lesson was overdue for separate reasons. However, my mindset throughout the conflict did not serve me any good and I've now seen the severity of my entitlement and self importance through a magnifying glass.

I could detail you the statistics on median pay for my job, my old company, my state, etc. I could state why the situation seemed unjust and why I felt underappreciated and fooled. Maybe it was unfair on paper, and maybe I had the right to be angry, depending on who you ask. But I don't care anymore.

Time has been plentiful for my unemployed self. I have spent it ruminating, walking, and listening to audiobooks, one of which is Ego is the Enemy by Ryan Holiday. In one chapter, Holiday details Jackie Robinson's struggles as a black man trying to play professional baseball. If anything was fair on paper, it would have been Jackie Robinson fighting back against the racists (which he did and was arrested for when he was younger). But as a professional, he was encouraged by others to ignore racism and just beat them in games. And he did. He didn’t fight anybody anymore, even though he would have been right to and those idiots would have deserved it. Being a famous baseball player and fully grown adult yet being treated like a non-human or a child is the peak of unfair. But Holiday’s book’s point is that looking past unfairness towards the mission is sometimes necessary to accomplish it.

I'm not saying my life struggle compares to Jackie Robinson's. In fact, that is exactly what I'm not saying. My "unfair" situations pale in comparison to his. He climbed Everest and I'm over here upset about an ant hill. And in some sense, I made that ant hill myself. I mean that if he can experience literal crimes and keep his head up, then I need to shut my damn mouth.

What is the correct approach to my work then? Let's rewind a bit. Full disclosure, my old approach to my life's work was this:

I am going to work myself to death for you, and if you don't give me the world in return, that is a moral failure.

Isn't that a biting statement? There is the entitlement out in the open. I'm not proud to have thought this way at all, and I'm sorry to all of you have had to put up with this mindset from me. But there it is.

Now. Where do we go from here? Well, during my unemployed ruminations over the past few weeks, I came across Dr. Alok Kanojia's (AKA HealthyGamerGG on Youtube) video on motivation, fairness, and how we're not entitled to anything. He talked about how, since life is unfair and unpredictable, we are not entitled to the results of our actions. We don't automatically have the right to the outcome of an action. We only have the actions themselves. Studying doesn’t entitle us to an A+. We are only entitled to the studying itself. That’s the way of the universe. In my old job, I prioritized work above all else. I forewent classes that I ended up failing or dropping. I begged to work overtime. I was, in the words of multiple others, "kicking ass." Then I decided I was entitled to something because of it. And I got angry when that was not satisfied. That is where I went wrong. It is true that I was promised a few things that did not come to fruition. Maybe it was morally acceptable to be angry about unfulfilled promises. But like I said, I’m done caring about that. That's not what it is about anymore.

What is it about is action. All we have in life is our actions. The more I think about what I value, the more I see the emphasis on action.

When we say to live in the present instead of the past or future, we're talking about action, since the present is the only time action can happen

When we roll our eyes at the person who says "I'm the idea guy," we're valuing action

The concept "Show, don't tell" works, because it is about action

Giving your soul to a job/person/thing who didn't even ask for it, then holding out your hand and saying "Gimme" is not about action. It is focused on outcome. Maybe it’s not fair that we can’t expect equal rewards in return for our work all the time. And on paper, it really is. Give X, get X. Seems fair and logical. But for me, for that to be the starting place and the motivation for my work no longer serves me. I’m not saying fairness isn’t a worthy goal or that it is bad. Fairness can be the outcome of a good mission. But it is not required to complete the mission. And it’s not going to be the sole motivator for my decisions, because life is grey and humans can’t always deliver on promises, through no fault of their own. What I'm not going to do anymore is throw my hands up and say, "Sorry, this is unfair so I quit.”

Where this leaves me is that I'm reconsidering my career--not only how I approach the work but the field I chose entirely. In the past, I tried to do biomedical research, but I failed. I have also enrolled and unenrolled in many an EMT class and have taken and failed Biology, Chemistry, and Physics classes repeatedly. This was all because of a hazy dream of being a doctor that has sat in the back of my mind every day. 

I kept trying out this doctor dream, but I would always hit a tiny snag, exaggerate it, and give up. I have gone through about 10 multi-month cycles of this for years. And guess what the snags were:

That professor gave me a B+ instead of an A on a single exam. Pre-med education is inherently unfair, and I'm not putting up with this.

I have to study this bio concept that I probably won't even use if I become a real doctor. That's a waste of my time, so I'd rather fail/drop than learn it.

Doctors have to get up at 5am? That goes against science on sleep schedules, so I'm not going to do it.

How pissy and entitled? Who thinks like that? Me, apparently--or who I hope to be "old me."

How did I get so caught up in what is fair or unfair that I lost sight of the forest for the trees? News flash, self... everything is unfair! Gym is always packed? Unfair. Fighting cancer? Unfair. Some idiot who cares less than you do got picked for the job? Unfair. Hell, the unfairness of life is half the reason why we even get up in the morning. Name a career that isn’t about taking an unfair situation and turning it into a better one. (If you can, maybe don’t do that career.) We do stuff as humans, because it’s unfair. Or the alternative, not doing it, would be unfair. If doctors threw up their hands because disease is unfair, we’d still be fighting polio. I wouldn’t make it one second in caveman times with my old attitude. The hungry lions staring at my caveman camp don’t care what I think is fair.

So here's the mission. We are going to look unfair things in the face and still do them. Despite their unfairness. Despite the fear that something will take more than it gives. Despite the brain saying, "This is inefficient, so let's not do it at all." In fact, it's because of their unfairness that we will do them. Then we can leave them better off for someone else. Or do them better the next time. I am calling this Project Sour Grapes. It starts right now.

[frenchibi]

Hi! Okay so obviously this isn’t an ask or a request but basically I just wanted to let you know I’m a fan. I saw that you were upset with how little feedback you were getting so I was looking for a way to contact you. I don't have an ao3 account so I can’t comment anything, and I can’t get one yet because I’m still 15 (the limit is 13 but the TOS were complicated and I didn’t wanna risk anything). In any case, your writing is AMAZING. I love it sm I’m obsessed. You’re so talented <3

Oh, hello!!

This is such a sweet message, thank you for sending it! I’m very happy that you enjoy my writing - but also, this message made me realize I have something to say, so I hope you’ll forgive me for hijacking it a little to make a slightly different point.

You probably read one of my older fics before sending this message - I had a habit of complaining in the notes about the amount of comments I got. Or maybe you saw that one post that I wrote a few years ago, specifically about the Haikyuu fandom and about being angry...? It goes around from time to time and has never really stopped getting notes.

I still feel, generally, that fic writers deserve more responses and interaction for the effort they put in, but my stance on how to go about saying this has changed somewhat since I last talked about this. Looking back at some of the author’s notes for my fics and that post I wrote, they feel very... whiny and entitled, to be honest.

Yes, fic writers invest a lot of time and effort into the works they create, and the fact that they share them for free is amazing, so I feel like “expecting” the people who enjoy their writing to at least let them know that they do is... more or less justified, and a writer being disappointed and frustrated when engagement with their writing is rather low is understandable (especially on tumblr, a place that is notoriously difficult for writers). However, I don’t like the kind of... culture of pressure that has resulted from this (and that my post helped enforce), and the way it “guilts” people into commenting.

We’re all part of fandom because we want to be here, right? We enjoy the same media and we want to talk about it, want to exchange headcanons and story ideas and concepts and fanart. And we want to engage with the stuff other people create - at least that’s how I, personally, feel about it. So when I see something someone made that strikes a chord with me, I WANT to let them know, and so it feels natural to me to like, reblog, leave kudos and comment. And because that’s how I feel, that’s how I expect other people to feel, too. So when I get very little response to something I post, it disappoints me - was my newest fic not up to my usual standard? Are the people who follow me not interested in this fandom anymore? And so on.

I can acknowledge that not everyone interacts with fandom in the same way I do, though. When I wrote that post about being angry - I was, well, angry. A lot of my frustration had piled up and I wrote that post as an outlet, and the people who responded in the notes (overwhelmingly other writers who said things to the effect of “thank you for voicing what we were all thinking”) validated this anger.

I’m... not good at being angry. It doesn’t last very long. In the end, my love for writing and for fandom in general outweighed my anger - and so I’m still here, and I’m probably not going to stop creating fanworks any time soon. I have also expanded to other fandoms (other than Haikyuu) and that has helped me immensely - I needed to get away from the box I put myself in. That doesn’t mean I don’t like Haikyuu anymore! It just means that writing only in one fandom no longer brought me the joy that it used to (and maybe a lack of responses contributed to this, but it wasn’t the only reason. This was a decision that I made for me, and no amount of comments from readers would have changed my mind).

I’m still writing, and all the fics I wrote are still up. I still read and respond to every comment, and every time someone new stumbles upon my ao3 or my tumblr writing tag and starts reading my works - I see you, I appreciate you, I am so happy that you’re here and that you’re enjoying my writing. And if you choose to “only” like five posts in a row without reblogging a single one - well, that just means you missed the chance to have a conversation with me, I guess. But I’m not mad - you do you, and have the fandom experience that works best for you. We’re all friends here, as far as I’m concerned!

All this to say, anon - you have absolutely no obligation to go to such extreme lengths to let a writer know that you like their work. What you said about not having an ao3 account - you ABSOLUTELY don’t have to sign up for one just to leave comments because writers are asking for them. Also, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, you’re 15 and it’s not your job to make a 20+ year old writer feel better about themselves. It was incredibly kind of you to send this message, but it did surprise me a little bit - I tend to always assume (as one does) that the people I interact with are around the same age as I am - but I’m glad that it surprised me, because it reminded me that what I post is seen by everyone who follows me, not just my immediate peers. When I posted about being angry, it was directed and people “like me”, in similar situations, in similar age groups, and I didn’t even stop to think who else might read my post. Which is incredibly irresponsible, actually.

I am aware many people in fandom spaces are minors and I say this for you especially: You don’t owe anyone ANYTHING, least of all should you feel obligated to go out of your way to contact writers who feel “neglected” by their readers to make them feel better. Their emotional state is not your responsibility. I’m grateful for your very sweet message, but I’m also sorry that you felt you had to send it. It is not your job to make sure I feel appreciated. It’s on ME to find a way to interact with fandom spaces that works for me. That’s no one’s responsibility but my own, and it was not fair of me to make a post that basically demanded more interaction “or else I’ll stop posting”. It was years ago, and I don’t feel that way anymore, but I can’t stop people from still reblogging it.

Yes, every single comment or ask or reblog matters and makes me happy - but I hate that I made you feel like you had to reach out to me and tell me that my work is appreciated when you weren’t otherwise going to do so (and that you considered making an ao3 account just for this purpose! No!! Don’t do that!! You’re RIGHT, the TOS are complicated and you shouldn’t sign up for anything without thinking it through properly!).

Tl;dr: Thank you, anon. I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, it would not be on you to change that. You’re a very sweet person, and I apologize for using your ask to go off on this tangent, but I felt it was important to say.

[vinca-majors]

Michaela Brown, ScaryMommy:

Upon graduating college with my hard-earned degree to teach high school English, I almost immediately began planning for  my graduate studies. Lots of high schools around the country require their teachers to have a masters degree, so that was a motivator. Plus, it came with a pay raise. And, I truly enjoyed going to school. In fact, at the time, I hadn’t ruled out going on and earning my doctorate as well.

I did end up graduating with my M.A. in secondary education, after writing a thesis I’m damn proud of. My path changed a bit and I never went on for my doctorate, but you can be sure as hell if I had that I’d claim that Dr. title. That my students—even the grumpiest of teenagers whose eyes shot daggers at me as I made them read Shakespearean sonnets—would be calling me Dr. and not Mrs. or Miss.

And as I’ve encountered other professionals with that Dr. title, I’ve never hesitated to refer to them that way. My children’s formal principal went by Dr. Matthews. No one questioned it. I’ve had professors at the undergraduate and graduate level use the title. Again, that’s what we all called them. With respect. And without hesitation. Just as we refer to famous figures like a man we’ve all heard of—Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.— because each of these people put in the work, the years, the money, the commitment, and the dedication. Each of them earned their Dr. title.

So yeah, when Dr. Jill Biden completed her education and earned her Doctor of Education (Ed.D) from the University of Delaware, she rightfully earned the title “Dr.” and deserves to be referred to as such. Just as any other professional with that level of expertise does as well. Is she a medical doctor? No. Does she claim to be? No. Have professionals in academia added Dr. to their titles once they’ve earned their doctorate for centuries? Yes.

However, because some ignorant asswipes remain stuck in 1950, or don’t understand how higher education works, or simply are bound and determined to hate on the Bidens as they hated on the Obamas even though they are kind and supportive of others—regardless of political party, her title is under scrutiny.

The Wall Street Journal stupidly published an op-ed, which has now gone viral, that was moronically entitled, “Is There a Doctor in the White House? Not if You Need an M.D.” And, of course, this piece of trash essay included a byline that reads, “Jill Biden should think about dropping the honorific, which feels fraudulent, even comic.”

Joseph Epstein, the “writer” of this ignorant word vomit, opens by condescendingly calling Dr. Biden “kiddo” and offering her advice, as if he is in any position to advise the First Lady of the United States on literally anything. “Madame First Lady—Mrs. Biden—Jill—kiddo: a bit of advice on what may seem like a small but I think is a not unimportant matter,” Epstein mansplains.

He then goes on to insult her dissertation on student retention at community colleges, calling it “unpromising” and, in the same paragraph, refers to the idiotic but commonly used quip that no one can call themselves “doctor” unless they’ve delivered a child.

Let’s break this bullshittery down, shall we? First of all, Mr. Epstein, your piece reeks of envy. We’re sorry you didn’t have the… guts? courage? stamina? intelligence level? (who knows) to actually ever earn a doctorate, but you sound bitter. It’s not a good look. Also, it’s clear that you don’t respect the value of community colleges, which is where Dr. Biden has spent a large portion of her career. And, finally, the world now knows that you are threatened by smart women. Bravo.

Also, we’ll be sure to let all the medical doctors out there who’ve tirelessly fought COVID-19 this year, holding the hands of dying patients, and also those brilliant scientists who thankfully have brought us a vaccine that offers a beacon of hope, that they don’t get to call themselves “doctor” because they’ve never caught a newborn baby. I’m sure they’ll appreciate that tidbit of info from you—*checks notes*—a man with one single undergraduate degree, no earned doctorate, and zero medical expertise.

Basically, Mr. Epstein, it’s obvious that you have some personal issues you need to unpack. Maybe take some time over the holidays to do a little self-reflection? Like, why do you even care what title Dr. Biden goes by? Why are you so scared of women who are more successful than you?

Your piece then goes on a long, barely coherent rant about “honorary doctorates,” which is not what Dr. Biden has. If you’d like to blast the validity or point of bestowing honorary doctorates on celebrities like Stephen Colbert and Seth Meyers, for example, go right ahead, but that has nothing to do with Dr. Biden. This lack of cohesive argument is why I’ve referred to you as a “writer” a few paragraphs up, because it seems apparent that you don’t understand the need for basic textual support.

(Calling you a jealous asswipe, well, that’s just a reflection of your character.)

Finally, your last “supporting argument” (again, use of quotes intentional here) as to why Dr. Biden should drop her title is because apparently doctorates don’t count anymore. Back in the day, you explain, doctoral exams were far more grueling, but today’s candidates get off way too easy.

“One had to pass examinations in two foreign languages, one of them Greek or Latin, defend one’s thesis, and take an oral examination on general knowledge in one’s field,” your op-ed states. “At Columbia University of an earlier day, a secretary sat outside the room where these examinations were administered, a pitcher of water and a glass on her desk. The water and glass were there for the candidates who fainted. A far cry, this, from the few doctoral examinations I sat in on during my teaching days, where candidates and teachers addressed one another by first names and the general atmosphere more resembled a kaffeeklatsch.”

(I had to look up what kaffeeklatsch meant—it’s an informal social gathering at which coffee is served. Excuse my lack of knowledge there. I’m just a silly woman with a higher degree than you.)

And, as you end with, “Dr. Jill, I note you acquired your Ed.D. as recently as 15 years ago at age 55, or long after the terror had departed,” you not only insult her by addressing her as “Dr. Jill”, but you also imply that because she likely didn’t faint while taking her exams or defending her dissertation, that somehow her degree isn’t real.

That’s the crazy thing about education—it evolves. Today, kids even use these neat little things called computers! You wouldn’t believe it. Another way we’ve evolved is to realize that shockingly, our doctoral candidates don’t have to become physically ill to prove they are smart and worthy of their degree!

(I mean, you never even tried, Mr. Epstein, so I guess even today, doctoral programs are only for the toughest among us, like Dr. Jill Biden.)

Also, it seems that Northwestern University, where you were previously listed as “emeritus lecturer of English,” has scrubbed you entirely from their website, stating that it is “firmly committed to equity, diversity and inclusion, and strongly disagrees with Epstein’s misogynistic views.” Again, evolution! Change is good.

Hmmm. So one of you is a misogynist with no teaching history to even brag about as your previous employer has disassociated with you, and another is a successful educator committing to helping all Americans have access to a proper education. Oh, and the second one goes by Dr.

Looks like the real “comical fraud” is you, bruh.

And just so we’re clear, Dr. Biden has always been committed to ensuring that everyone (not just pretentious twats like you, Joseph Epstein) has access to a fair education. Earlier in her career, she worked in a psychiatric hospital where she taught English to adolescents with emotional disabilities. During that same time she also earned two (yes, TWO) master’s degrees, one from Villanova University and one from West Chester University. In 2009, after earning her doctorate, she began teaching English at Northern Virginia Community College, and advocating for community college education has since been her passion. “Dr. Biden has always said that community colleges are ‘one of America’s best-kept secrets.’ As a teacher, she sees how community colleges have changed the lives of so many of her students for the better,” explains former president Barack Obama’s White House website.

Sorry, Mr. Epstein, but not everyone can afford to enroll in an English class at Northwestern taught by a raging sexist who gets his balls in a bunch when women succeed. For many, community college is a better fit, and Dr. Biden is a big part of that.

“In 2012, she traveled across the country as part of the ‘Community College to Career’ tour to highlight successful industry partnerships between community colleges and employers,” the website goes on to say. “In the fall of 2010, she hosted the first-ever White House Summit on Community Colleges with President Obama, and she continues to work on this outreach on behalf of the Administration – frequently visiting campuses, meeting with students and teachers, as well as industry representatives around the country.”

Imagine all of the hard-working Americans Dr. Biden has helped by supporting community colleges. Future teachers just like her often get their degree while working full time, raising a family, and going to college at night. Who knows, some of them may even—gasp—go to grad school too. High school kids who choose to forego going away to a full-time university and instead, take classes at a community college closer to home, are given that option because of people like Dr. Biden. Kids who go on to be EMTs, police officers, technicians in trade industries, engineers, and find success in the business world. Or, they transfer those college credits to a larger university down the road when they have the means to do so. Single moms doing their best to give their children a good life often attend community college classes online, after their children are asleep, proving that they have the drive and determination to do more and be more.

So, what it all boils down to, Mr. Epstein, is that you really, really hate that there’s about to a woman in the White House who’s smarter than you. And not only that, but she inspires women everywhere to work hard, earn their degrees, and then they’ll be smarter than you too. Yikes. That’s a tough pickle to be in, Mr. Epstein. We’re sorry that you are so insecure and unhappy with your own lack of success.

At least you can still wrote those stellar op-eds though! Good luck with your “writing” career, kiddo.

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 20/?

May I? - 20/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

A/N: Hey guys! I’m back. Sorry for the delay. this chapter gave me a bit of trouble. Also, I’ve been playing a LOT of DND lately and it’s eating up all my muse. Anyway, I hope to have the next update sooner than this one. Enjoy.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @geekygwen​

Faith didn't know what to think. Her emotions were running rampant, though part of her was still in complete shock at what she had witnessed. She had never seen that look in Data's eyes before. The strength of his punches was unfathomable. Honestly, she was surprised Fajo was still alive.

His normally serene face had been twisted into a frightening mask of rage. 

“What happened over there?” Riker asked as he led her to sickbay. 

She told him the events of the evening, in short, clipped tones that made it clear she didn't want to talk. Riker listened, stoic face remaining passive until she mentioned Data losing control.

Only then did his mouth twitch into a frown, eyebrows knitted together with worry. Yet, he didn't look surprised.

“Has this happened before?” Faith asked.

Riker nodded. “Once. Not too long ago. With a Borg who was attacking him. Data said he ‘felt' angry.”

“This wasn't anger, Will. This was rage.” 

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been scared of him. In that moment, when he turned to look at her, his fists covered in Fajo’s blood, she didn't know what he was going to do.

Seemingly sensing her distress, Riker put his arm around her shoulders. “Listen, Faith. Data would never do anything to hurt you. You know that right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. It was just...it was scary to see him lose control that way.”

They arrived at sickbay in time to see Beverly and her staff rushing to stabilize Fajo. Once he saw the scope of the man's injuries, Riker seemed to give Faith a look of understanding.

He led her over to one of the empty beds, making sure she sat before he left her side.

“How is he, doc?” Riker asked Beverly.

“He's been severely beaten. There is massive internal bleeding and several broken bones,” Beverly listed as her assistant injected Fajo with a hypo. “His pulse is weak but steady for the most part. I think he's going to live.”

Faith sighed with relief. It wasn't for Fajo’s sake however, it was for Data's. If he had killed Fajo, she did not know how he would take it. She suspected he was already confused and overwhelmed as it was. 

He had always been adamant that he could not feel emotion. She felt he could on some level, in his own way. Now it seemed he was evolving, experiencing emotion from a human perspective.

And I shied away from him when he probably needed me, Faith thought, angry at herself. Way to go, Faith.

Riker and Beverly spoke in hushed tones but Faith was too lost in her own muddled thoughts to try to eavesdrop. She watched Dr. Crusher and her staff move quickly, doing everything they could to take care of Faith's captor. 

It took some time but eventually, Fajo was stable. Riker left to go report to the captain and it was then that Dr. Crusher came over to help Faith.

“Not exactly the romantic weekend we discussed, huh?” she teased with a soft smile, gently examining Faith's broken wrist.

“I mean, it was great right up until we crashed. I'll tell you all about it sometime.”

Beverly smiled. “You better.” She gave Faith a hypo for the pain before she went about closing the cut on her cheek and setting her wrist. 

For the most part, Faith was still and silent. She felt awful for how she reacted to Data and knew she had to talk to him. But she suspected the captain would have a lot of questions for him and there was no way of knowing how long he'd be tied up.

“You're good to go,” Beverly said as she wrapped a brace around Faith's wrist. “The break is healed but I want you to wear this for a few days to keep it straight. Only take it off to shower. Other than that, you need rest. Your body is exhausted and not just from the injuries.”

“No, not just from that.”

Beverly looked at Fajo before glancing back at Faith. “Did he hurt you in any other way?”

Faith shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Just this and a phaser blast to the hip a few days ago.”

Beverly ran the tricorder over Faith's old injury. “Minor internal bruising but that's about it. Again, I prescribe rest. At least a day or two before active duty.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Do you want something to help you sleep?”

“Yes.”

Faith knew she wouldn't be able to rest on her own. Beverly seemed surprised at her immediate acceptance of the help. 

“There are a few homeopathic remedies programmed into the replicators,” she said. “I'll send you my favorite. If that doesn't work, some see me and we'll administer something.”

“Thanks, Beverly.”

She smiled and patted Faith on the knee. “It's good to see you in one piece.”

“It's good to be back.”

As Faith was getting to her feet, the sickbay doors opened and Deanna appeared. Faith knew the counselor was looking for her. She had suspected she would be sought out once the Oz’ods were handled. She was sure her wild emotions had hit Deanna the moment she appeared on the transport pad.

“Hey, counselor,” Faith said with a wry smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh hush you.” Deanna gave her a big hug, which Faith returned. “We were so worried about you.”

“I'm okay. Honestly.”

Deanna glanced at the unconscious body of Fajo, then back to Faith. “Let's walk,” she suggested. 

Faith allowed herself to be led from sickbay, eager to get back to the familiar safety of her quarters.

“How bad was it?” Deanna asked once they were out of earshot of anyone.

Faith didn't answer at first, unable to verbalize her feelings. Deanna didn't push, only kept her arm around the young woman as they walked.

“It was the worst thing I have ever experienced,” Faith admitted. “We were separated at first and I had no idea what Fajo had planned or was trying to accomplish. He used me to get Data to do his bidding.”

“And Data did it.”

“Yes. Eventually, we were allowed to be together but we were obviously being watched. If it wasn't for the Oz’ods help, I don't know what we would have done. How did you find us?”

“Once we were able to establish communication with the Oz’od we had in custody, we realized what was happening. They were able to tell us about Fajo’s ship and where he liked to orbit. Once our repairs were done, we immediately began the search.”

“I'm glad you did.” Faith leaned on Deanna for support. “All I wanted to do was get us back home.”

Deanna squeezed her shoulder. “Well, you're here now and it looks like Fajo got what was coming to him.”

“Will Data be reprimanded for what he did?”

“I can't say. I do know I want to see him twice a week now instead of once.”

“He must be so confused.”

“You are as well.”

Faith sighed deeply. “I am. But I can't think about that right now. This isn't about me. I need to be there for him. I was so cold to him a few minutes ago.”

“You're entitled to your reaction,” Deanna said. “It is not an unusual response to detach yourself emotionally from an emotionally charged moment. Data will understand if you explain it to him.”

Faith fell silent. Her body felt like it weighed a ton and her steps became harder to control. She briefly wondered if Beverly had secretly slipped her something but more likely it was the lack of proper sleep and sudden drop of adrenaline.

Deanna showed her to her quarters, pulling her into another firm hug. “Stop by tomorrow afternoon and we'll talk more, okay?”

Nodding, Faith hugged her back. “I will.” And she meant it.

Once she was alone in her quarters, she realized that it was the last place she wanted to be. She had been alone too long over the last few days. She couldn't stand it anymore. After gathering a few personal items, she immediately left, heading for Data's quarters instead.

When she arrived, Barclay was just getting there as well.

“Faith! You're back!” he said. “It's...it's good to see you. I was just about to feed Spot.”

“Thanks, Reg,” she said. “I'll handle it. I think Data will be tied up for a while. He appreciates you taking care of Spot for him though.”

“It's no trouble, she's a very sweet cat,” Barclay said.

He took in her disheveled appearance, along with her wrist brace. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Faith admitted. “But I will be.”

“If-If you ever need to…” Barclay stopped himself. “I mean...I better than anyone understand anxiety.”

Faith smiled. “I'll keep that in mind. Bye, Reg.”

He gave her a small wave as she slipped into Data's quarters. Just seeing the familiar surroundings was enough to put her at ease. Spot came out from the closet, stretching and yawning. When she saw it was Faith, not Data or Barclay, she turned around and went right back to her sleeping space.

“Nice to see you too,” Faith chuckled.

She replicated Spot’s dinner, then sat on the bed to wait for Data.

It felt strange to be back. Over the last few days, she had lived in a near-constant state of heightened anxiety, and to finally be in a safe space was disorienting. Spot came out to eat and once she was done, she seemed curious about Faith and wandered over.

Faith was surprised when the cat headbutted her leg, rubbing herself along Faith as she asked for attention.

“It's just because I'm the only one here, isn't it?” Faith chuckled, reaching down to scratch the cat behind her ears. 

The cat jumped onto her lap and began loudly putting. Faith continued to stroke her soft fur, finding the action oddly soothing.

It was only twenty minutes later when the doors opened and Data stepped in. As soon as she saw him, Spot meowed and made a beeline for her owner. 

“Hello, Spot. It is good to see you as well,” Data said, picking the cat up. His eyes fell on Faith and he gave her a look of surprise. “Faith...you are here.”

“Would you rather be alone?” Faith asked, reaching for her bag. “I can go back to my quarters.”

“Please stay,” Data insisted. “I was under the impression you did not wish to be in my company.”

Faith winced. “I'm sorry I made you think that. I just needed some time to process what happened.”

“I understand.” Data put Spot back down before he joined Faith on the bed. 

They both remained silent as if neither one knew what to say to the other. Data was the first to speak.

“Faith, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you no longer wish to be a couple?”

She had anticipated his question, remembering how he had mentioned something similar during their first date.

“Oh, Data, babe.” Faith wrapped her arms around his arm, hugging it close. “Of course I still want to be with you.”

“That is a relief. I was concerned my outburst may have changed our relationship.”

“Well, I mean, it has,” Faith said. “But not in that way.”

“In what way are you referring?”

Faith wracked her brain trying to find a sufficient way to explain her muddled thoughts. “Seeing your partner in such a raw emotional state is bound to change things. You've seen me broken down more times than I can count. I guess, with all your talk of lack of emotions, even though I firmly believe you feel things your own way, your outburst completely blindsided me.”

“Me as well,” Data said. “It has not happened that way before. I was not anticipating it.”

“I know that now. I should have realized it then as well. I'm sorry for pulling away.”

Data studied her closely. “Faith, are you frightened of me?”

Faith took a deep breath. “In that moment, I was. But I'm not now.”

“I do not wish for you to ever be frightened of me,” Data said. “I cannot control these new emotional responses and if I hurt you in the process, I will be unable to forgive myself.”

Faith cupped his cheek, pulling him into a kiss. It was deep but chaste, meant to provide comfort when her words could not.

“I trust you, Data,” she said when their lips parted, her forehead coming to rest against his. “Whatever is happening to you, whatever emotions you develop, we'll figure them out together. I promise.”

“Thank you, Faith.”

They embraced and remained sitting for some time until Faith remembered they still wore the clothes Fajo forced them into.

“I should change,” she said, drawing away and plucking at the ruined dress.

“As should I,” Data agreed. “You may use my lavatory if you wish to wash.”

Faith gave him a coy smile. “Will you join me?”

“While my skin does occasionally become covered with dirt, it eventually cleans itself so I do not require…” He paused, realizing what she was offering. “I see. You are being solicitous.”

Faith giggled. “Yes, I am. In a sense. We don't have to engage in anything sexual. I just want to be close to you.”

She slowly stood, offering her hand to Data. He studied her with curious attention, his brow furrowed in the most adorable way.

“Yes, I will join you.” He accepted her hand.

Faith smiled and led him to the washroom. Once inside, she turned on the shower, making sure the temperature was to her preference before turning back to Data. He remained stock-still, clearly unsure of how to proceed. 

Taking the lead, Faith removed the shawl he had fashioned for her before turning her back on him. “Can you unzip my dress?”

Data's hands were gentle as they took hold of the delicate zipper, dragging it all the way down until the fabric around her loosened. She sighed when she felt his hands glide across her skin beneath the fabric, pushing it off her shoulders.

The flimsy fabric gave way easily, pooling down her curvy frame and falling to the floor. Faith stepped out of it and towards the shower, disposing of her brace along the way. With an inviting glance over her shoulder, she smiled at Data before stepping into the shower.

The cascading hot water immediately put her at ease. She heard the rustling of fabric and then Data was there with her. She turned to face him. 

It was strange seeing him in such a human setting. Faith never realized how much she truly saw him as an android. She needed to do better, to be better. She needed to see him as a person, no different from herself.

When she kissed him this time, he responded, one arm sliding around her waist while his free hand cupped her cheek. The heat from the shower and their bodies was intoxicating. It made her head spin.

How could I fear this man? This sweet, wonderful man? she thought to herself, moaning softly as his tongue hesitantly prodded her lips. 

She opened for him, allowing him to taste her as she molded to his slick wet body.

“Faith.” He breathed her name between kisses. “My body is becoming aroused.” 

She could feel the swell of him against her stomach and it sent a bolt of pleasure through her. “Mmm, mine too,” she hummed in response.

“You did mention not doing anything sexual. If we continue kissing this way that will not help the situation.”

Faith chuckled, pulling back slightly to peer up at him through her thick eyelashes. 

“Probably not. Do you wish to stop?”

“If you wish to continue, we can.”

Faith looked him directly in the eye. “Data,” she said. “Do you want to stop?”

He processed her rephrased question, studying her closely. “Yes,” he said. “It has been a long day and you need your rest.”

Smiling with understanding, Faith gave him one last peck before withdrawing from his arms. “Okay, you're right. I am feeling a bit woozy.”

“Let us finish washing and then get you to bed.”

Faith took Data's hands and covered them with soap, gently scrubbing the dried blood off his knuckles. She knew he could do it himself but she didn't want to pull away this time. She wanted to show him that she wasn't scared anymore.

Data watched her closely and though he remained silent, she was sure the symbolism was not lost on him. He helped her clean herself next, hands ever so gentle as they spread the lather across her light brown skin. 

After they finished, Data stepped out and brought Faith a large fluffy towel. Together they dried off and dressed in fresh clothing.

Faith wore a pair of loose pants and a large shirt while Data had his uniform.

“Dr. Crusher says the replicator has some home remedies to help me sleep,” Faith commented once they left the bathroom. 

“I shall get you one,” Data insisted. 

Faith combed her fingers through her hair, leaving it loose to dry faster. Once she was comfortably seated in bed, Data brought her a steaming mug of tea.

“I believe it is what is known as ‘Sleepytime Tea’,” he explained. “I added honey to sweeten it as I know you do not like bitter tea.”

“You're the sweetest, thanks.” Faith took the mug and allowed it to warm her hands. “Are you going to jump back to work while I sleep?”

Surprisingly, Data shook his head. “I do not feel it is appropriate to work after such an ordeal,” he said. “I would much rather provide you comfort at this time.”

“Are you sure? I really don't mind. I like falling asleep to you working. It's soothing. I know laying here can be a bit boring for you.”

“I want to lay with you.”

Faith smiled at his words. “I'd love nothing more.”

She drank her tea and slipped under the covers while Data disposed of her mug. He joined her a moment later, immediately pulling her into his solid embrace.

Although Faith was exhausted, she couldn't bring herself to sleep. Even with being comfortable and safe in Data's arms, her brain would not rest. The tea had made her drowsy but she still fought it. The irrational part of her brain kept making her picture Fajo bursting through the door at any moment.

“Faith, can you not sleep?” Data asked after some time had passed. 

“I'm afraid to close my eyes,” she admitted.

“We are on the Enterprise. You do not need to be afraid.”

“Logically I know that.”

Data nodded with understanding. “But anxiety does not follow logic,” he finished.

“Exactly.”

“Computer,” Data said. “How many lifeforms are currently in these quarters?”

“Two lifeforms: human and feline, as well as one android.”

“Computer, are the locks enabled for these quarters?”

“Affirmative.”

Data offered Faith a smile. “Does that help?”

She smiled back and snuggled closer, allowing her eyes to finally close. “Yes, it does. Thanks, babe.”

Data kissed her forehead. “Rest now, mi alma.”

Faith opened her eyes again, staring at Data in awe. “Data…?”

“It is the term of endearment I have chosen for you,” he explained. “Do you not like it?”

“I...I love it,” she said, voice thick with emotion.

Data smiled softly and adjusted the blanket around her. “Then I will continue to use it.”

Faith smiled back almost sheepishly, heart skipping a beat as the memory of her native language sliding so effortlessly off Data's tongue.

As she drifted off to sleep, all she could think about was the meaning behind his words. He had often mentioned his thoughts on spirituality and the idea of whether or not an android could have a soul.

She was honored that he had decided he did and that she was it.

[winterskywrites]

what do you really think of Supercorp, as a ship?

Oof. Okay, this is going to be kinda long, so I’ll put it under a cut for people who don’t want to read it. It’ll go a bit into my thoughts on Kara and Lena’s arc this season, because I don’t feel like I can really discuss my feelings about Supercorp without also talking about that. It’s also not going to be particularly pro-Supercorp (which should give you some idea of my opinion), so keep that in mind if you do choose to continue reading.

First, a quick disclaimer: This is not at all saying that you can’t ship Supercorp or that you’re a bad person if you do. This is my opinion and my opinion alone, and it doesn’t have to affect yours in the slightest. This is not in any way a moral judgment on people who don’t agree with me, it’s just what I think.

Second, a quick request: If you disagree with my opinions, you are (of course) completely entitled to do so. If you wish to discuss my opinions in a civil manner, I’m willing to have said discussions. But any hateful messages will be deleted immediately, and the people sending them will be blocked. This applies to people sending hate based on any opinions; this blog will not be a platform for hate of any kind.

Now, to answer the question: Honestly, I’ve never been a huge Supercorp shipper. I used to be somewhat ambivalent about it; I didn’t necessarily ship it, but nor did I dislike it. I found Lena to be an interesting character, especially in how morally gray she was, which was an interesting contrast to characters with stricter morals like Kara. I didn’t always like the way Lena treated Kara as Supergirl (and sometimes Kara as Kara), but I could see why people liked the idea of a relationship between them. While I would have been open to it, I didn’t think it was “endgame” or that it needed to happen.

However, with the latest season, my opinions have changed. The way Lena has been treating Kara this season has been manipulative and cruel, and I don’t want to see them in a relationship (or even a friendship, really) without Lena making some serious amends. Lena has been treating Kara horribly, and having a romance grow out of that would most likely lead to a very toxic relationship. As for Kara, a lot of her interactions with Lena lately have been heavily based in guilt, and that’s not a good precursor to a relationship either. I worry that Kara, in her attempts to make up with Lena, would end up starting a relationship without any boundaries on her part (she even says to Lena in 5.03 “for a friend like you, there are no boundaries”), and boundaries are a very good and healthy thing to have in any relationship. A relationship without boundaries is not romantic, it’s unhealthy.

At this point, Lena is one of the villains of season 5. She’s doing awful things (what she did to Eve was particularly horrible), and she’s intending to keep doing awful things while working with her brother, who has been established as probably the worst villain in the Supergirl universe. Honestly, I don’t think this arc is out of character for her, but she does need to face some serious consequences for her actions, and if she’s going to get a redemption arc, she needs to earn it. Until she does that, I don’t feel comfortable with her being in any sort of relationship with anyone, really, and especially not Kara, whom she’s pointedly and deliberately hurt and manipulated multiple times so far this season. The way Lena has treated Kara this season has been unforgivable, and unless she goes through a serious change of heart and shows that she is deeply and honestly sorry for what she’s done, I don’t even really want to see Kara forgive her, much less start a relationship with her.

So, tl;dr, I was never that much of a Supercorp shipper from the beginning, and given the way Lena and Kara’s relationship has been progressing this season, I would be very uncomfortable with a relationship happening with their current dynamic.