#and his cognitive dissonance. so he stays

[sneakyboymerlin]

Fandom will be like “Arthur wouldn’t have been so bigoted if it wasn’t for [that EVIL Merlin trying to fulfill the prophecies through Arthur to create a long-lasting future for his kin. oh and Uther] the actions of everyone else around him” bro it doesn’t sound like much accountability is being held for one’s own actions :/ bro

[macchiatosdumptruck]

I am once again having Kreese/Terry/Daniel thoughts

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

overthinking it

[nostalgia-tblr]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I think Crowley falls into two of the classic pitfalls of people who see that the problems are systemic long before anyone else around them does: impatience and despair.

(Yes yes I know, “Crowley was an optimist.” Book Crowley is an optimist. I don’t think that line is particularly useful for analyzing TV Crowley. Stay with me here.)

Let it be said that 95% of the time, Crowley has the patience of a fucking saint (ssh don’t tell him) around Aziraphale. He knows that Aziraphale needs to build his little plausible deniability rationales in order to do something that they both know he wants to do (because it’s right or simply because he would enjoy it) but Heaven wouldn’t approve of. And most of the time, Crowley is happy to help Aziraphale get there, asking the questions Aziraphale is afraid to ask, offering excuses and justifications until Aziraphale finds one he can accept. He does a lot of work of parsing out when “no” means “you haven’t convinced me yet, keep trying” and pushing through all the “I’m an angel, you’re a demon, we’re on opposite sides and mine is the good one” talk that Aziraphale gets up to all the way through s1. Because he knows that Aziraphale doesn’t really believe that stuff, right? He just needs some time to talk himself around his own cognitive dissonance, and most of the time Crowley is not only happy to facilitate that but sees it as part of his role in their relationship.

But then when the chips are down and Aziraphale is still dithering, that’s when he gets frustrated, because HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE what’s been blindingly obvious to Crowley for millennia, that Heaven is just as cruel as Hell and no one is going to step in and fix it because the system is working as intended. And that’s when he says things like “how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?” Which is a surefire way not to convince the person you’re arguing with of anything.

And then there’s the despair. I really think the running away thing is not about cowardice or selfishness or some kind of unhealthy level of avoidance of hard or scary things, but about hopelessness. They’ve spent their lives avoiding very very real danger, and of the two of them Crowley is much more constantly aware of the danger that they are in from both sides. Yes he’s hypervigilant but he is also almost always right about the amount of danger they are in. Trying to get as far away from danger as possible is not an irrational response, even if it’s not always the correct one for a given situation.

When you feel like you’re the only person who sees how rotten the system is, how it needs to be dismantled entirely, but you are also VERY aware of how strong the people in power are and how ruthless they are about crushing dissent because you experienced it personally…well that gets fucking depressing after a while. Because even if you think the whole system needs to go, that feels like a completely unattainable goal when it seems like no one else even sees the problem, or if they see it, they are too afraid to do anything about it. And can you blame them? You know exactly what happens to people who speak up.

So it’s very easy for your goals to shrink from systemic change to just taking yourself and the people you love and finding somewhere for them to be as safe as possible, for as long as the system will let you exist. Because reforming the system is a fool’s errand, and dismantling it entirely seems impossible. I think this is where Crowley is at. Even if on some level he knows it’s an imperfect solution, because both of them have enough compassion that they would feel guilty abandoning Earth and humans to save themselves, and because Heaven and Hell really can find them anywhere in the universe. He just doesn’t see another option.

And look, I think Aziraphale is 100% wrong that Heaven can be reformed. But he is not wrong to want to stay and fight to make things better, even if it means sacrificing the Earthly comforts he loves so much, and even if it means doing it without Crowley by his side.

Ultimately they both need each other. Aziraphale needs Crowley for his willingness to ask questions and to see the scale of the problem, even if it’s terrifying. But Crowley needs Aziraphale for his hope, his stubborn determination to believe things can and should be better, and to fight for that. In the right hands, hope is an enormously powerful weapon.

[actual-changeling]

this one is thanks to a post by @thegroovyfool because she is very much correct - we do not talk about aziraphale's "i need you" enough.

so once again, with a deep breath and a sigh, welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, where i tear apart the confession scene frame by frame. i'm gonna say, watching this particular clip over and over and focusing on aziraphale's face almost took me out.

let's get into it.

first, how about a little look at our starting point. (any blurry screencaps are due to a LOT of movement on michael's part rip)

crowley is very pointedly facing away from him, he turned after aziraphale said "we can be together - angels!", presumably because being offered exactly what he wants in the one way he cannot have it fried his brain, cause besties it surely fried mine.

aziraphale on the other hand looks openly desperate, which is why he says "i need you." more on that later. let's have a look at how he says it, because michael "microexpressions" sheen is putting in the work.

to me, he seems close to tears, his eyes are glistening in that specific "i'm about to cry my eyes out" way i know from looking in the mirror while crying

he is trying to get crowley to listen to him and to turn around. he wants crowley to face him, which is something most people tend to want during an argument. talking to someone who is not looking at you tends to make someone frustrated and like they're not hearing you/do not care about what you have to say.

aziraphale looks close to despair, his i need you is a plea to crowley to come with him. he is opening himself up not just emotionally but physically, too.

he slightly leans forward, his arms are raised and seem to both slightly grasp for crowley and point towards his chest/heart for emphasis. the pure pain visible on his face knocks the air out of me every single time i look at it.

aziraphale is admitting to needing him, something he has never done before, hell, he has told him the exact opposite on numerous occasions. i don't need you. and while they both knew it was a) a lie and b) a way for him to deal with his conflicting emotional standpoints and cognitive dissonance, it still hurt crowley every. single time.

crowley was there for him no matter what, he knows aziraphale needs him but he came back and remained at his side even when he was pushed away and more or less openly insulted. he endured it all.

aziraphale saying i need you now is pretty much a slap in the face but also what crowley needs to hear. as with everything that happens during the entire conversation, the timing is fucked up and they're talking past each other.

in my opinion, that is why crowley does not react.

only when aziraphale turns spiteful and starts questioning his understanding (aka calling him stupid without outright saying it) does he re-enter the conversation.

aziraphale, however, is upset. now, i will put on my tinhat for just a second and turn up the insanity because there are two more things i want to talk about.

first, the little stutter at the beginning.

"i ngk - i need you."

my question is - why? why does he stumble over these words in particular when it does not happen with any other sentence? the only other time is right after crowley walks away with his "good luck", he stumbles over crowley's name.

so, in short, it happens when he is either caught off-guard or saying something incredible emotional.

and this, everyone, is where i go unhinged in my interpretation.

what if he initially did not want to say "i need you?" what if he was so caught up in getting crowley to stay/come with him that he did not think and almost confessed another three word sentence?

what if he was about to say "i love you" but stopped himself because no, that's too direct, they don't do that, they can't do that. it goes against EVERYTHING they have silently build over the last six thousand years. so he chokes on it. he chokes on it and instead he says "i need you" because it means the same thing.

i need you. don't leave me. come with me. be an us. go off together.

i forgive you. i love you.

they say it over and over again because that's the only way they can say it.

that is why aziraphale is so angry and upset after saying it. he told crowley he loves him, he needs him, and all he got in return was silence.

the funny part is that this code may have worked before, but it no longer does. crowley is too hurt to listen to what aziraphale is trying to tell him, and aziraphale is equally as hurt and also not listening anymore.

the funny part is that it stopped being about love and started being about sides again. my side, your side, our side. choose a side, choose our side, choose me.

the funny part is that beelzebub and gabriel told them what they need to do, i found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides.

[nicollekidman]

buffy knows spike loves her during season five. buffy knows spike loves her when she comes back and seeks comfort/silence in his presence. and as she comes back to herself and tries to make peace with the fact that she’s Here Again, she still knows he loves her. and i think part of the Big Bad Grabbing The Slayer For The Darkness routine they both cling to is that it allows them to pretend this huge thing isn’t between them so they can get what they both want (someone to stay).

and like obviously buffy cannot allow herself to believe that he loves her for many reasons, but she DOES believe it, she can’t make herself unknow it even though she tries so hard. which is partially where the breakdown with tara in 6.13 comes from because the cognitive dissonance of soulless spike loving her as if he has a soul while she is so lost within herself that the only way she can reach for him is to use him (which would be fine if he was the big bad grabbing the slayer for the darkness) which is hurting him! unfathomably! but he’s supposed to be the corruption! how can he??? any of it???

meanwhile spike has watched the woman he loves be brought back as a shell and he wants to see the light in her eyes and he can touch her now and sometimes that’s enough to make her laugh but he can’t linger in those moments or she’ll go away again! so he can play the role he needs to play so she’ll stay, as if he could keep her anywhere she didn’t want to be. as if he wants her to be in the dark instead of bringing him into the light. but how could he ask for anything more when he already got her back and he didn’t even need to kill her afterwards.

and so they hurt each other and he forgets himself and asks her if she even likes him and it’s too honest and he’s asking too much (he asks for nothing) so before she can throw her life away like it’s nothing, he puts the game face on, makes himself a target, and swallows it all. and she can’t unknow. and it would all be fine except he’s a vampire and she’s the slayer and how can he just say it like it’s nothing when she needs to beat his face in just to keep from screaming.

[my-turn-with-the-batdad]

I think alot of people like the Batfamily— because the dynamics are so flawed. Especially when it comes to Bruce. It's SO rare to see dysfunctional families in media and its even rarer to explore the trope without a clear resolution. The diffrent writers and interpretations have created a behemoth of a family dynamic.

They are messy and they stay messy but that doesn't mean they don't try.

When it comes to Bruce the man is a walking contradiction. Protector vs. Prosecutor. Father vs. Mentor. Batman vs. Bruce. There are a thousand different reflections of him as a character.

His obsession with justice clashes with his ability to connect emotionally—leading to strained relationships marred by both unhealthy expectations on all sides but also this overwhelming need to protect.

It's fascinating and from a psychological standpoint it definitely speaks of Ambivalence and some form of Cognitive dissonance. I think the man is in alot of perpetual internal conflict about his beliefs and actions.

This creates a pattern of thought that seems contradictory, but to Bruce it makes perfect sense; he often rationalizes his absence from family life by convincing himself that his role as a protector justifies the sacrifices he makes. The same with certain actions we as readers see as 'inexcusable' for example take Gotham war.

In another instance, his complex feelings toward Damian—who embodies both the potential for greatness and the risk of darkness.

Ultimately, Bruce's journey as a dad for me—reflects his struggle to balance his dual identities, the man both seeking redemption through his children while also grappling with his past and what made him Batman in the first place.

This kind of patterned thinking can often be a direct result of trauma and unknowingly, it's been the best representation of it I've seen in any media. Ever.

And plus,

It's a lot more fun to take this approach than the good fathers vs. bad father Bruce debate.

[mohntilyet]

also i talk about 'getting lucanis out' like it's an easy thing but i do genuinely wonder if he experiences cognitive dissonance over it all. surely he must know if he stays with the crows and stays first talon, he's stuck in this state forever. he can change things, but how long does that last? how many times has he thought, guilty, 'maybe after caterina dies, i can be free'? how many crows will be waiting for him to die, so they can go back to killing for coin without thinking of the innocents lucanis wants to save? how could he ever ensure that? and if he has kids (i don't even think. he wants kids frankly.) i refuse to believe he would abuse them the way caterina abused him. like how does he raise any child to take over a guild that is infamous for infighting. he doesn't need to look far to know how that goes. the dellamortes used to be 14 members strong, and within a few decades that number gets whittled down to 3. lucanis stays with the crows? it can be whittled down to 0. but the dellamorte legacy remains. how on earth could he ever extract himself from the mess he's inherited. how could he ever trust any other hand except his own

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

hii! i love your casey x autistic!reader fics and i had a request. you know how in a lot of the episodes where the men get sa’d, they think it means they’re gay and they blow up in the interrogation room shouting slurs and everything? i’ve always wondered what it would be like for a queer detective to be in the room seeing someone say that in front of them. could you do something like that where a suspect gets defensive and starts spewing homophobic stuff in the interrogation room where detective!reader is interviewing them and casey is watching from behind the glass? pre-existing relationship if possible and maybe some fluff as well :)) these are just some ideas you can really do whatever you want - i give you full creative freedom 🙏

Hey, friend! Hope this is what you're looking for! Much love to you! 💕 –illdowhatiwantthanks

Interrogations

Casey Novak x autistic!fem!reader Warnings: homophobic comments, threats of sexual violence, autism times, police (duh), explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.2k

Summary: A threatening, homophobic outburst from a victim has you overstimulated and panicked. Casey is there to help calm you down. That is, if she can calm down herself.

“Sir, it’s in your best interest to be honest with us,” you said, rubbing your temples.

Round and round you’d gone with this man. This married man with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. He’d been assaulted at a gay club, and the implications were clear. You sat down across from him. Your partner, Resendez, leaned against the back wall, letting you take the lead on this one. As the only out, queer detective working special victims, you were often the one they chose to interview queer victims or even suspects. There was a level of relatability; you were better than most at getting them to open up.

This man–clean cut, button-up, eye swollen shut, split lip–you felt sorry for him. You felt sorry for anyone who wasn’t out, wasn’t free to be themselves for whatever reason. It had taken you a long time to come to terms with your own sexuality, even longer to be comfortable in a relationship. But you knew the cognitive dissonance it took to lead a “straight” life while trying desperately hard not to be gay. He’d given you some bullshit story about being drugged and dragged to the gay club, but there had been no drugs found in his system. He was clearly just trying to come up with an excuse for being there.

“Mr. Berg,” you started again, softening your voice. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex with men. We just need to know what really happened so we can catch the person who did this to you.”

Suddenly, he exploded, standing and throwing his chair against the wall. You nearly fell out of your seat as you backed toward the wall and Resendez surged forward to cuff him.

“I’m not a fucking faggot, you bitch!” he spat. “Maybe you like pussy, but that’s not my problem! You just need a dick in you! I could do it, too, I’m not a fucking fag!”

You kept your eyes fixed on a scratch on the wall, trying not to react. You were used to people saying ignorant things. You were used to perps saying all kinds of disgusting things to you, but this outburst had rattled you more than usual.

“Just go, Y/L/N,” Resendez said, nodding toward the door.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You let the door slam shut behind you, leaning against it and exhaling shakily.

“You okay?”

You jumped a bit, then calmed when you saw it was Casey. She’d been watching the interview.

You nodded, but your hands gave you away, shaking at your sides. Casey frowned and pressed one of your hands between hers, flattening it and attempting to massage the stress away. You were trying hard to stay calm, but Berg’s outburst–the force of it, the volume–had taken you off guard. Normally on the job, you went into situations expecting belligerence or violence, and your body and brain were primed for it ahead of time. But this had come so out of the blue. Your heartbeat was fast and loud in your ears, and you closed your eyes, the lights overhead too bright, too much.

You could feel yourself growing panicked, not because of what Berg had said, but because you knew you were getting overstimulated, and you couldn’t control it. Of course, your squad knew you were autistic. Huang evaluated you every six months to ensure you weren’t burnt out and were able to perform your duties. There were parts of solving a case that being autistic made you very good at, but there were also things it made hard for you. You hated for your squad to see you like this, to see the worst parts of being autistic. You wanted them to trust you, to believe that you were capable of doing your job and doing it well. But nobody else fell apart like this. Just you.

“Sorry,” you whispered to Casey as your breathing grew more rapid.

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder protectively. “It’s okay. Come here, come with me.”

She led you to the bullpen and knocked lightly on Cragen’s open door. Cragen looked up and was about to ask Casey what she needed when he noticed her gesture subtly toward you–hunched, eyes on the ground, fingers tapping the sides of your head as your body rocked back and forth.

Cragen gathered his papers and stood, squeezing Casey’s arm as he passed. “Take as long as you need,” he said quietly, leaving his office.

Casey pulled you into the office and shut the door behind you, turning off the overhead lights and shutting the blinds.

“Okay,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around your rocking body and squeezing you tightly. The longer she held you, the more your heartbeat slowed, the more even your breaths grew, until you were left shaky from the spent adrenaline, limp in her arms.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, lowering yourself into a chair and rubbing your eyes.

Casey sat next to you, taking your hand in hers again. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, honey.”

You disagreed, but you didn’t want to argue the point. Casey would win anyway. She was a lawyer, after all.

“I want to go in with you next time when you question Berg,” she added.

“Casey…” you protested.

“I don’t want him talking to you like that.”

You smiled softly at her and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Casey. Honey. I’m a detective. People are gonna say shitty things to me.”

“Yeah, well,” she grumbled. “If he threatens you again, I’m slapping him with an assault charge.”

“He’s an assault victim, Case. It’s your job to protect him.”

“Maybe so,” she conceded, leaning forward to caress your cheek. “But my number one job is to protect you.”

You melted into her touch. Usually it was you protecting people. Your whole job was protecting people, and you were good at it. But Casey? Casey looked after you. Casey made you feel safe.

You leaned in to kiss her lips softly, making sure to meet her eyes when you pulled away, so she knew you were feeling better, less overstimulated.

“I’m okay, honey,” you whispered. “I promise.”

The rest of the squad made it a point to be extra normal when you and Casey emerged from Cragen’s office. Someone who didn’t know you might think you and Casey had been in there for less-than-professional reasons, but the squad knew the only reason you’d lock yourself in there was for you to regulate yourself. And they never wanted you to feel embarrassed about it.

You made your way back to the interrogation room where Berg now sat handcuffed. Resendez observed him through the two-way mirror.

“Want another crack, Y/N?” he asked. “I’m getting nothing.”

“Might try good cop, bad cop with Casey,” you told him. “Or, well, I guess it’d be bad cop, worse ADA who’s pissed you threatened her girlfriend.”

Resendez shrugged and grinned at you. “Worth a shot anyway.”

Casey squeezed your hand before following you into the interrogation room.

“Alright, Mr. Berg. Allow me introduce ADA Novak.”

[visenyaism]

Now I'm curious. What options would you say were available to Ned beyond warning Cersei to hit the road? Short of dismantling the entire system on his own, of course. /gen

1. extricate himself from the situation. just not saying anything to cersei or robert, not staying behind to warn her at all and just focus on getting his family out of king’s landing. once they’re back at winterfell what is anyone going to do go get him? it’s fall.

2. just do not tell robert. ned is 100% certain that as soon as he tells robert the truth robert will respond by killing cersei and her children (and jaime but ned doesn’t care too much about that.) he does not have to do the thing he knows will result in the deaths of children.

3. help cersei and the kids escape instead of just telling her they should. he has no reason to do this but it would make his warning more actionable.

he does not do these things because he is too loyal to robert and feels like it’s his obligation to his friend and the realm to set the succession right and stop the lannisters’ (who at this point he thinks killed jon arryn as the start of their slow coup, pushed bran out a window, and did stab him in the leg and kill all his men.) will he let that slide. no. but all of these things interfere with his belief that children should not be murdered. ned’s discomfort with being the one to be responsible gets him killed. but so does his adherence to the idea that he HAS to tell robert. cognitive dissonance enjoyers we’re so back

[butchisrevolution]

dolly dog man readthrough #5

PART #1 BC MY ASS CANNOT STOP YAPPING

for whom the ball rolls

THERE IS SO MUCH TO ANALYZE IN THIS BOOK

holuy shit now they're tackling minority power struggle, racial discrimination and class war in dog man . wtf

is this that autism speaks thing or am i tripping

asl dogman my beloved

that must be stressful for li'l petey. like, you have two dads, the one you were created by and the one that adopted you. you have an deep rooted emotional attachment to the one who created you despite his flaws, "even crack babies love their mama", but you look up to your adoptive dad so much more because he aligns with your values. he does what's considered the right thing.

but he also has an innate dislike to your birth father, due to issues that predate you, issues you can't rectify. you know your birth father is trying to fix them, but you still have to watch your adoptive father unlearn his distaste for him. you know it's getting better, but it hurts just to see it. even one glimpse of hatred towards someone you love BY someone you love hurts immensely. but you just have to watch and wait, do what you can and stay optimistic because it's out of your control.

also, i like the artistic choice that every time there's an important or moving piece of dialogue it just shows their silhouettes and a color corresponding to the feelings that it brings up. its a nice touch

FUCK YEAH ANARCHY!!

also

my fav polycule . the gang is back together again. YES

from an analysis standpoint, he's feeling super insecure right now. he definitely doesn't want them around solely because he feels inferior to their parenting skills and thinks it would be too painful to have them around due to that. he also thinks his kid would like them more than him, which probably is making him feel unloved and unwanted. his kid's hesitancy is feeling like a rejection of him, which makes him question his identification with being better than his own father. he's thinking this subconsciously, of course, i don't think he's currently self aware enough to realize that

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN THIS SCENE AND THE PREVIOUS SCENE WHERE HE MADE HIM SLEEP IN THE CLOSET AGHH

THE CONTRAST AUGHHH

THEY'RE DOMESTIC NOW

WHAT DID I SAYYYY . IT WAS NEVER ABT DOG MAN AND 80-HD IT WAS ABOUT HIM. AND HIS DADDY ISSUES

shiiiiit

YESSS.. NOW THAT HE HAS CONFRONTED AND DISCUSSED THE ROOT OF HIS DISCOMFORT HE CAN FOCUS ON WHAT'S BEST FOR ALL OF THEM WITH LESS INSECURITY. BUST

my shaylas... theyre sharing the custody... my fucked up gay polycule... i am overjoyed

aweee... my shaylas ... <3

they r figuring out their family struggles and finding a healthier dynamic. this is great

also this is a rlly funny bedframe considering my petey npd theory.. LMAO

this is also literally just like what sleeping in a bed with an actual cat is like

generational mental illness confirmed. this is how u give ur kids disorders

oh baby. ow. he was repressing the guilt with cognitive dissonance, excusing it by thinking li'l petey wouldn't remember, but now that they've finally aknowledged it he has to confront it.

the symbolism in the last panel. the noises are scaring li'l petey. he's literally trying to shield him from the generational trauma :(

[maxdibert]

Any headcanons about Severus when he's not at Hogwarts hiding in the dungeons?

Ahhhhh yes!!! I have quite a few based on my personal interpretation. Lets go!

• Based on canon and the fact that Severus seems like someone who probably suffers from severe depression, I think he leaves Hogwarts and returns to his crappy house in Cokeworth as a form of self-punishment. If staying at Hogwarts, serving Dumbledore, and working as a teacher (even though he clearly doesn’t like children) is his subconscious way of repaying a debt to society, then isolating himself in his childhood home is like a second prison. It’s a depressing hole that only brings back horrible memories.

• He’s thought about selling it and moving somewhere else a thousand times, but he always finds himself incapable of doing so, as if something inside him tells him he doesn’t deserve to live in a place that isn’t utterly miserable.

• Despite growing up in a very Muggle-centric environment, he’s completely disconnected from Muggle culture since his parents died. He knows the basics and has more knowledge than the average wizard, but overall, he’s very out of touch.

• The Muggle world reminds him of his father and the disdain for magic his father had, which is why he stays away from anything related to that world.

• Ironically, the fact that no one in the Muggle world recognizes him or associates him with the burdens of being a spy or a teacher, infamous in half of magical British society for being an unpleasant bastard, gives him a certain sense of peace.

• Cognitive dissonance over his mixed heritage 24/7—it’s a constant source of inner conflict.

• Absolutely ZERO self-care. At Hogwarts, he maintains a routine and takes care of himself somewhat, but when he’s alone, he neglects himself entirely. He barely sleeps or stays up until dawn, often forgets to eat, and sometimes even forgets to shower.

• At home, he usually dresses like a wizard, but if he has to go outside for something, he wears clothes he’s had since he was 20. They’re ancient, faded, and worn out, but he doesn’t care because he lives in a shitty neighborhood and doesn’t think it’s worth the time to buy appropriate Muggle clothing.

• Extremely stingy. If he can save money on something, he will. He grew up without enough money for clothes as a child, so he’s very aware of his finances and hates spending on frivolities. He tries to haggle whenever possible and gets very, very annoyed if he thinks someone’s trying to rip him off.

• He could afford a few luxuries, but he never does because he feels guilty about spending money on himself unless it’s strictly necessary.

• Lucius worked very hard to teach him to “speak properly” and rid him of the “provincial” accent he arrived at Hogwarts with, but as soon as he sets foot in Cokeworth, his northern twang immediately comes back, and his way of speaking becomes much harsher.

• Similarly, being surrounded by purebloods and aristocrats taught him certain manners and customs, which he always uses at Hogwarts or in magical circles as a sort of shield, but at home, he’s the same working-class kid he’s always been and couldn’t care less about those pretensions.

• Once again, cognitive dissonance plays a role between the image he projects and his true working-class essence.

• When he’s very depressed, he tends to grab a pint at the biggest dive bar he can find and, paradoxically, feels quite comfortable among the rough crowd there.

• At work, he’s very orderly; at home, he’s not. His house is chaotic, but it’s an organized chaos. It’s full of books, papers, and research he’s working on, and while it looks like a mess, he knows exactly where everything is.

• He spends his time researching potions and reading books.

• He smokes occasionally, even though he always claims he’s quit.

• Sometimes, he doesn’t know whether he hates being at Hogwarts or at home more, but then he thinks that, at least at home, he doesn’t have to deal with putting up with idiots.

[binomech]

Free Devon 2025 remains tragically relevant

Helly's isolation after coming back is hitting some personal rough spots and the weight it's being given as an act of cruelty towards her is flooring me. She doesn't know she was raped. She doesn't know Helena raped Mark S. The way it doesn't even quite hit for Mark S. until Milchick corners him in the elevator over it before sending him up mid-panic attack...

Mr. Milchick, don't turn to reactionary violence against your comrades when the cognitive dissonance hits you're so sexy aha (but for real. Natalie's silence, Ms. Huang's needling, all of it was just... punch up, dude. Punch up and get the fuck out. You can't reform eugenics inc.)

Dylan's speech for Irving coming in with the vibes:

I loved my friend. He went away from me. There's nothing more to say. The poem ends, soft as it began: I loved my friend.

Like Mark's private eulogy for Gemma in season 1, like Ms. Casey returning it at the end of this episode, like Dylan's speech, like Irving Bailiff pressing his hand against his paintings like Mark did against the tree that took Gemma: I loved this person, and now they're gone. They were picky and they were strange, wonderful people and the tangling of our lives changed us forever in ways we could not predict. I love you. I miss you. I carry you in who I am after you.

I've been dreading a string-of-fate plotline for outie Irving and Burt and this reveal has been possibly the most meaningful thing to me. It was a kindness that warmed me whole. I think the us down there might have loved each other, mine got sacked a few weeks ago over it, mine got fired as well, (they're dead, we made them and we hoped they'd be happier than us, and now they're dead), come by my place, have dinner with me and my husband. You don't have to do this alone. You are a stranger but I am choosing, deliberately, to offer you a community to lean on. We cared about those versions of us we never even met. They loved each other. They deserve this attempt at connection.

Irving B., even while literally erased from physical record in the office down to the desk and the photos, leaves a message for Dylan, beating himself up for letting the company kill him, for not listening, for not helping. You wanted me to live until I figured out exports, and I got myself killed before that, and I'm sorry. But you can still do this, you still have a place in this office and in the world. You stayed behind. You always do. You can find a way out for all of us.

Mollified by that last shot of Mark. I've mentioned the list of lovable idiosyncrasies as presented by outie facts but it really hit me that... we just don't know who Mark was before the grief for Gemma ate him away. Your outie is going to heal, as he falls apart at the sight of her.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I was thinking about killer and his emotionlessness in st2. And people struggling to portray that in writing (for those who wanna portray it), but based off some personal experiences I won’t go into specifically, maybe here’s some ideas for anyone who needs them.

Maybe write his emotionlessness aspects as a firm belief, integral to his sense of self. Write it as a deeply ingrained coping mechanism that was only encouraged and reinforced by the people around him, who wanted him to be and behave that way because it meant they got what they wanted from him—consistently shamed or invalidated or worse if he showed an emotion that wasn’t wanted.

He has detached from himself, the body, his surroundings; most things don’t feel or seem real, including himself.

because killer thinks of himself as emotionless, and he very likely doesn’t feel some emotions such as guilt or remorse or even love in an emotional way and struggles with empathy which are things trauma can absolutely cause, its also important to keep in mind that it is abuse and trauma that has caused this.

Trauma and abuse has led him to dissociating and numbness, repeated everyday violence and murder and abuse has been completely normalized and accepted as a part of his existence.

His apathy is a result of all of this, constantly being pushed to his limits emotionally, physically, and mentally over and over.

Due to the circumstances of his world, the abilities of Resetting and the like, even death has become the norm. Both of himself and others. He is surrounded by so much of it that it no longer means anything to him.

His thoughts of things being ultimately meaningless, his knowledge of the Players making him believe that no one really has free will in the end. It all only makes him disconnect from himself and his body.

However. Just because killer does not believe himself capable of emotion, does not mean he isnt expressing any. His body can still react to things—crying when stressed, flinching and wincing in pain—even if Killer himself just doesn’t understand stress or enjoys his own pain. Especially if the pain wasn’t “that bad” in his eyes.

You can write it as if Killer believes his body sometimes does things on its own without his say so. Grabbing things without his awareness to fidget with because he needs stimulation, attempting to stab someone if even being touched causes his body to react negatively, as if the touch was painful or frightening. Constant fidgeting and shifting, and getting frustrated about why it can’t just stay still.

(He might eventually face a bit of resigned acceptance to this, eventually just having to accept that the body apparently needs to do these things. And no matter how hard he or anyone else tries to get it to stop, it’s impossible, and likely to just make the fidgeting ‘worse’.)

If his body cries from stress, he’d probably be extremely confused; steadfast believing he doesn’t feel anything, and just wipes it away—perhaps dissociating even further or getting frustrated, because he doesn’t believe thats something he’d do.

Experiencing cognitive dissonance, because the action of crying suggests something’s wrong but he feels..nothing. Neutral, as he always does. Or if hes physically hurt during a mission, his body could be crying from the physical sensations and yet killer is mentally riding the high of “finally” experiencing emotion.

If someone is berating him or verbally abusing him, he might be confused by the body’s tears because there is no physical harm. He doesn’t feel offended or hurt by what this person is saying to him, so why would he cry. He doesn’t think it’s logical, and thus will rationalize it away as just something up with the body.

He might look back during his moments in Stage 1–happiness, fear, guilt—with either a sense of detached confusion or maybe amusement, believing that other side of him to have been rather dramatic. Maybe he’s even curious about why the world seems so much brighter when someone like Color is around.

Because killer doesn’t connect the body to himself in his mind, he probably has a hard time visualizing it or showing any care for it beyond making sure it’s functioning and still useful. And he doesn’t really feel any empathy for it either.

It is also very possible to have people react to the way he doesn’t react—such as simply standing and quietly watching whenever nightmare punishes someone in the gang, not seeming bothered by it at all, as opposed to anyone else who is witnessing. This can be compounded by any signs of dismissiveness and downplaying what happened.

You can have people treat him differently, react to him differently, either being disturbed/uneasy by his appearing to not have any emotions—no anger, fear, hatred, disgust—in situations they feel he should.

Appearing unbothered or unphased by things said or done to himself or others as if they don’t matter—either because it is normal for him, or because he is so commonly dissociated that no one notices that he dissociated in these moments.

Others may even be outraged and offended by his apparent lack of concern or compassion, and even more may interpret him as being arrogant. Others may make it a personal thing to try and provoke from what they believe an appropriate response to be from him. (They’ll probably end up being killed or mortally wounded in this case.)

Writing people’s reactions to him and his lack of reactions, besides those big dead black eyes and empty grin, will definitely help set him apart from others around him.

He will likely struggle to accept the idea that he can feel genuine emotions; and may outright reject or rationalize/intellectualize away anything that contradicts this belief of his. He may avoid anything or anyone that provokes reactions he doesn’t understand—as a form of self protection. Especially if someone or something has convinced him that his emotions are inconvenient, useless, weak, or dangerous.

It’s also quite possible that hed be reluctant to acknowledge his body’s needs or emotions, to let it “speak” in a way, uncertain of how it will react or what it will make him do. Especially if his body has destructive breakdowns when repressed stress and pain catch up to him, and it makes him feel out of control.

Automatic responses like sweating, shaking, changes in breathing, temperature fluctuations; all are likely to be observed in a detached way and not really linked to any specific emotional state. Insomia, changes in eating habits, and chronic pain are likely to be some biggies for him.

He probably doesn’t actually know why his body appears to be in so much pain—besides the amount of DT accumulation and the history of physical trauma—but he’s more likely to take some twisted glee in being able to feel it than care about where its coming from or why.

He’s probably also likely to have a decreased immune system and might be prone to sickness, due to the results of chronic stress and the results of repressing it all; but he’ll probably over intellectualize it away.

Another form of self protection for him could be his typical silly, dumb, hyperactive facade being a deliberate choice on his end. Because it not only leads to people overlooking or underestimating him, it protects him by keeping people away.

If he pretends to feel what others seem to want him to feel in certain situations, they’re less likely to start pestering him and trying to provoke reactions from him. It also helps keeping people entertained, makes him seem unpredictable, and most of all, doesn’t allow anyone to look at him and find him lacking. Find him boring. Enough to potentially get rid of him, or replace him.

He may not may not actually care about others’ opinions of him—praise or criticism—but people sure seem to want him to, so he’ll pretend to if it’s beneficial.

[serialkilluh1996]

❀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒❀

Stu Macher x Nerdy-male-reader

Stu is a very pushy boyfriend, but this time, he's pushed his fucking luck and crossed a line.

Warnings: Angst, death, slight gore, multiple mentions of SA, arguing, contact me if I need to add more.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

It wasn't hard making friends when it came to you. Yeah, you were a considerably nerdy guy who preferred to stay home and watch movies and read, and you certainly weren't some dashing Adonis who had a way with words, but you had a certain style, a strange charisma, that attracted people to you.

It's how you met, or, as people call it, "bagged" your boyfriend, Stu. He was a pretty fun guy. Always optimistic, and down to just about anything. The issue with him was boundaries. He had a bad habit of trying to push past yours.

Like now, for example. Throwing on some old orange flannel he'd given you as a gift, tightening the belt on your light boot cut jeans to with mild irritation to get ready for one of Stu's parties.

You hated parties. He knew this, but somehow, he always managed to manipulate you into going. With his pouty lips, his cartoonishly sad voices, and his puppy eyes, there was almost nothing he couldn't get you to do for him.

You knew this, and you never did much to resist. Cognitive dissonance, really.

"I don't know what you see in that clown." Your friend, and Stu's number one hater, Clyde scolds you, standing in the doorway of your bedroom as you get dressed. "It's not for you to see. It's for me to see. That's why he's my boyfriend." You joke, tying your shoes.

"I don't trust him, dude. He doesn't really respect you." He leans against the doorframe. "He respects me." You retort, standing up. "Until he doesnt get what he wants." Clyde raises an eyebrow. "I don't need you to be my dating coach."

"I'm not trying to be your dating coach, I'm trying to be your friend. And as your friend, I'm supposed to be supportive and honest with you. I've been supportive already, and now it's time to be honest. He's not good for you. He's slowly but surely pushing your boundaries and one of these days he's gonna convince you to do something you REALLY don't wanna do." Clyde sits up as you walk past him and out of your room.

"☆☆☆, I'm serious," he follows behind you, "the party may seem like a small inconvenience, but he's only doing small things first to test your layers."

You grab your car keys, ignoring his words. "You know, I don't need this right now." You turn around. "No, ☆☆☆. You need this a lot more than you think." Clydes eyes squint with anticipation. "I'll go with you." He offers. "To third wheel my date?" You tease him.

"Oh, puh-lease. It's a party. He'll never suspect me anyway. I'll just... keep my distance. But I'm not letting you go alone to some drug infested fuckfest full of college boys with little to no morals so he can spike your drink and let God knows who do God knows what to you." He stands in front of the door.

You wince at his words. "Yikes, Clyde. I get being concerned but you're getting too comfortable with these accusations."

"You're right, you're right. I went too far. But still, just let me go with you." Clyde begs. You sigh. "Get in the car and don't say another word about him." He nods in compliance as you both walk out, locking the door behind you.

You fold your arms as you walk past all the pre-inebriated. "Ugh, the party started twenty minutes ago and these people are already high as a kite." He pouts.

"POOKIE!" Stu yells out, tackling you with a hug that you don't return as your arms are folded. "Seriously, Stu?" You raise a brow.

"Don't be such a downer, honeybun. It's a par-tayyy. You need to let loose." He boops your nose. "Hey, Clyde." He says flatly, rubbing a hand across his face. Clyde frowns. "The fuck off me." He swats his hands. "Youch, Clyde. Still sore because I asked first?"

"Asked what first?" You ask, Clyde looking ready to burst. "Come onnn. I wanna show you somethin'." He pulls you towards the stares. "But, Clyde–" "Clyyyyde can wait." He kisses your forehead, pulling you along up the stairs.

Clyde pouts as he takes you away, struggling to hold back frustration as he knew what was about to go down. Stu didn't deserve you. He storms past some unlucky lady, causing her to slightly spill her drink as he slides into the garage.

He grabs a beer out of the fridge, bringing it to his mouth and slurping it down with only a quarter of his usual manners. "Fuck!" He exclaims, throwing the glass down and watching it shatter and fizz with the beer. It wasn't fair. He's wanted you so long. He's respectful, supportive, he adores you. And you choose some skeezer like Stu.

And just when he thought his luck couldn't get any worse, his phone rang. With a huff, he answers. "Yeah?"

Stu presses you against the bathroom sink, standing crotch to crotch against you as he tugged at your belt. You put a hand on his chest, pushing him back with what little energy you had, your half empty cup of liquor sitting on the sink. "What's the problem?" He asks, now slightly bothered by your resistance.

"You're going too fast." "I'll slow down, baby." "No, I mean us– this relationship– I don't think we're this far yet." "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Stu, I–" your heart drops at the sound of a man screaming. You push him a way and back into the wall, running out of the bedroom. Scurrying down the stairs as you fix your pants, your startled by what you see.

Clyde stumbles into the living room, swatting his left hand, the right clenching his heart as blood spilled past it. He gargled incoherently, falling limp onto the couch. "Clyde!" You shriek, running down to his side.

"Clyde, buddy, talk to me." You shake him, pulling his hand away to see the myriad of stab wounds to his chest. You scoff in shock, your breath catching in your throat to see his eyes empty, lifeless. "What the fuck?!" You curse, backing away. "Clyde!!!"

You lay on your side in your bed. Tears are streaming down your face. It's been hours, but it feels like days have passed. You tremble quietly, sniffling. God, you should've listened to him.

Your phone rings. You don't want to answer. You don't want to live. Nothing even had purpose anymore. Your best friend, gone without a goodbye, and someone had the nerve to be calling you, as if they wouldn't have plenty more time to talk.

You snatch it off the line.

"☆☆☆, baby–" "No!" You interrupt Stu, fury filling you in an instant as you recognize his voice. "This is all your fault, damn it. I told you I didn't like parties! You always do this to me! You never respect my boundaries, man!"

"..I... I do respect you.." "No, you don't! Just last night, I had to force you off of me in the bathroom and when I told you I wasn't comfortable, you KEPT. PUSHING! WHO KNOWS WHAT YOU WOULDVE DONE HAD I BEEN ANY DRUNKER?!"

"Aww, dude, honey, you know I would...I would never do anything like that to you..." he sounds so genuinely bad, almost hurt by your words.

"Clyde is dead, Stuart! He's dead! He ain't coming back!"

"..I know.." "No, you DON'T. You don't know ANYTHING! THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW IS TO BEG AND PUSH TIL YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT!"

"I DIDN'T KILL CLYDE!" "I DON'T KNOW THAT!"

The line goes quiet, and the only thing you can hear is the static.

" What are you trying to say, ☆☆☆?" "I'm breaking up with you. I can't do this with you anymore. I can't keep begging you for basic respect in this relationship. I'm tired and I'm scared and for all I know, you could've done this."

"No, baby, no. Please, no. Please, don't do this." His firm words turn into pleading whimpers. "I'm sorry, but I've made my decision." You hang up the phone. And Stu stands there, the line buzzing as tears run down his face.

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