#at the same time people ignore that there is so much commentary in this

[gay-wrongs-activist]

I ranted so much in the tags that I hit the max limit (30 wtf) and couldn't tag the shows on my reblog anymore :(

Anyway, thank you for your service I am absolutely with you.

actually in general i think i'm just gonna become a villain if i see anyone complaining about girl rules or only friends: dream on. if you don't like the toxic gays, don't watch, LET US HAVE THIS

[aerifim]

imagine having a secret relationship with iwaizumi as the karasuno manager. like, the amount of thrill and excitement that would run through your veins the moment you lock eyes with him during a match is uncanny. the way his sharp gaze would linger for just a second too long before he snaps his attention back to the game—it's enough to send your heart racing.

the desperation of wanting to be near each other—knowing that the other is just right there—and resisting the urge to walk over to your boyfriend is a different level of risk. there's a magnetic pull between you, one that you both have to fight against to keep your relationship under wraps. 

though, despite the odds of being on opposing sides—and having to deal with the rivalry between your team and his—iwaizumi manages to find subtle ways to communicate with you between matches. a slight tug at his jersey means i miss you, a quick tap on his water bottle signals to meet you later, and a slight smirk across the court drives you absolutely nuts.

he even tries to sneak little notes into your bag, ones that say things like “you looked cute today. try not to stress too much over the crows.” 

but the struggle of not getting caught is real. kageyama and hinata always seem suspicious—especially since they seem to have a sixth sense when something feels “off”—but luckily they're too dense to put the pieces together.

but oikawa? he's a completely different story. he knows something is up. every time karasuno and aoba johsai are in the same vicinity, he teases iwaizumi mercilessly. 

“iwa-chan, you keep looking at karasuno’s manager. don't tell me you’ve got a crush.” he coos, only to get smacked upside the head.

there are so many close calls that almost revealed your relationship to the whole team. like the time you accidentally just called him “hajime” in front of your team, making tanaka and nishinoya immediately latch onto it. or when you and iwaizumi almost left a convenience store together after practice—laughing, completely forgetting that your teams were also inside. 

but then, it finally slips. the two of you got caught making out with each other in the storage room after a long, intense, and competitive practice match against aoba johsai. neither of you saw the door swing open in time and the two most noisiest team members had caught you two in the act. 

to say that tanaka and nishinoya were shocked to see the sight of you and an aoba johsai teammate making out in the storage room would be an understatement. and soon enough, everyone else knew. 

it started small. once sugawara and daichi caught wind of it, they immediately sat you down and spoke to you about it. 

with the rest of the team. 

luckily, it wasn't that big of a deal on your end—if you ignore tanaka and noya’s dramatic commentary. but for iwaizumi? he had to deal with oikawa being a drama queen. 

but, after all the teasing, the fake outrage, and oikawa dramatically claiming he needed “emotional recovery time” (which was just an excuse to bother iwaizumi more), both teams accepted it. 

that didn't mean they'd stop messing with you two, though. 

any time karasuno and aoba johsai were in the same gym, oikawa would send exaggerated kisses in your direction for the sole purpose of pissing iwaizumi off. nishinoya and tanaka started calling him “brother-in-law” to see how long it would take to get him to snap. 

sugawara even joined in on it, casually mentioning things like, “wow, iwaizumi-san, you're so polite for someone who made out in our storage room.” 

and, despite all the teasing, the sneaky comments, and the endless smirks from both teams, you and iwaizumi wouldn’t change a thing.

because at the end of the day, it was worth it.

♡ happy valentines day! this is for @reiyaus :3 & for the 3 people alive in the haikyuu fandom rn.

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

Take I haven't seen in the fandom yet:

Luka doesn't want to be freed.

"Now, MirrorCatCreditcard," you may say, "that's nonsense. Any human would want freedom from that system."

If you're thinking I'm gonna convince you that Luka doesn't know he wants freedom yet, you're wrong. I'm here to talk about indoctrination/conditioning, grooming/emotional manipulation, my own experience with those topics, and how all of the above connects with Luka as a character. If a deep dive like this is too much for you, please tap out for your own sake.

Luka's life was planned before he even existed. There has never ever been an alternative option. There is no life for Luka as anything but what Herperu chose. Everything in his life has been planned to have him be the perfect pet human idol. That is what he must be.

Fandom, I don't think most of you actually understand this and have dissected what this means (shout-out to the Luka stans who are getting there/have guessed similar things). These words we know have alternatives and are not set in stone are Luka's "gravity makes rain fall to the earth" and "water makes things wet." They are facts so deeply ingrained within him that even if shown the contrary he remarks that the person showing them is just disillusioned.

Take his commentary on Mizi and Hyun-A in the art book. He looks down on Mizi for not being able to control any of her emotions. How does he talk about Hyun-A? He has her at 70% affection yet shows a patronizing attitude—she's the one in denial at reality.

Now, how did we get here? How is a human so "delusional" and set in the control?

He's been conditioned.

Some of you don't know what I mean by this from experience and/or research, and count yourself fortunate that you don't. I pray you never experience such things firsthand. Don't worry about ignorance. Familiar or not, I will explain.

When you are surrounded by only one truth and reality, that is the way you interpret life. If a parent tells a child "the moon goes to sleep during the day," until the child learns otherwise, that's what they believe. Now take that child-like belief and add some toxic environments to the mix. With time, any other kid would learn that the earth rotates from their peers or adults around them. But if the creatures around them all say and believe the same thing "the moon goes to sleep during the day," then that is what the child continues to believe. Years of that same thing being the only truth make that false knowledge into a fact in the person's head, and everything that supports that fact is taken as truth or on the right path to truth.

"This is kinda silly though," you guys are no doubt murmuring, "All of this is a hypothetical. Give us something that makes sense or that someone could actually see happen in our society."

I'll give you my own experience then. My parents taught me that God is real. My parents taught me that I will be damned I do not follow the commandments of the scriptures. I didn't need to worry though. As long as I was obedient to the God who loved me and wanted what was best, I would be saved despite being born an awful sinful human. I was homeschooled, only interacted with people of similar beliefs, and taught that people too different from me in ideology or with radical beliefs against my own were trying to harm me and my family. I believed the people who raised me because why would people who love me lie to me? My task was simple. I needed to obey God and love everyone, especially them. Love meant giving up my entire being and living only as servant and sacrifice. After all, being selfless to the utmost was the greatest form of love.

Let's go back to Luka. His guardian, Herperu, when questioned about any surprises while training Luka, stated not only that he was the one who endured the "tough moments" but also that "(Luka) owes his success to me, and naturally, he should be grateful." This sentiment is echoed by Luka in his interview (shown on Patreon). My god, it's giving parents with disabled kids who brag on social media about how much trouble their kid is and how much they do for them. Sickening. This shows exactly what environment Luka has lived in though.

When you are manipulated into having something as your reality, everything else is fiction and delusion.

Let's review what exactly is Luka's reality.

Heperu is the one suffering if Luka has any difficulties being obedient.

Gratitude is what Herperu is owed because he goes through so much trouble to make Luka a star.

Love/care is shown by owning another's autonomy.

Emotions and bodily reactions exist, sure, but someone should be able to control them; and if they can't, someone should control those reactions for them.

Segyein are superior and the good ones for dealing with humans. Humans must be disciplined and shaped to how an segyein wants it to act to be considered deserving of this goodness.

(Luka)'s perfection is defined by his guardian.

Luka's life is directly connected to being the perfect performer. His guardian praises his abilities with the statement that no other pet human will ever be as perfect as him yet leaves an underlying threat saying that it will be no good if a pet is not trained properly. This has probably been mentally (if not physically) beaten into Luka's mind: his greatness doesn't stop him from being able to be disposed of. The human instinct to want to live has been explained to him as Heperu's wish for him to live and that has been further distorted as a duty to live for the stage he has been placed on.

Luka believes fully that there is a debt in play here. In his interview, he mentions repaying love. He thinks the relationship between fan and idol is completely normal, encouraged, and healthy. Performance is the most important thing. Being where he is is a privilege.

There's a chain here:

Heperu indoctrinated Luka into believing what he says is all true.

The guardian manipulated him easily to do what he wanted with his body and mind.

The years have been spent constantly conditioning Luka to be the god who encapsulated fantasies for the audience.

He is continually being groomed to exist for the entertainment and enjoyment of segyein.

Circle back to my first point of this post. Luka does not want to be freed. He doesn't know what freedom actually is. He sees freedom as either foolish denials of reality (and doesn't consider that actual freedom) or as controlling the song and stage when he performs (something he learned from Hyuna). He cannot want something he cannot understand. He cannot want freedom in the sense the fandom keeps speaking about.

It's funny. From the moment Luka was revealed to be hated by the fandom, I wanted to know why. Instead of digging and finding horrific deeds, I instead found a character who portrayed my own traumas and experiences. I instantly attached and delved deeply into learning about this thirty year old singer. Why does he express himself in a certain way? Where do we first see mention of him? Who does he have emotions towards? How was he trained? What makes Luka himself? I have past essays/replies to other's theories if you're interested, but in this one I got personal and didn't sugarcoat the facts. If the fandom can't handle deep thought, we shouldn't be discussing this incredibly profound and depth-filled web series.

As always, thank you for your time, and I hope my thoughts allowed you to open your mind to new things. Mostly, I hope you enjoyed them 🫶

[yesimwriting]

Easing

a/n just a little logan idea i had while thinking of ways to work on my characterization of him :)

Summary: A contemplation of mortality. Or, alternatively, reader sustains a minor injury while on a mission and Logan sees the end of the world.

Warnings: age gap (where everyone is of legal, consenting age), slight descriptions of injury, unnoticed pining

----

The dimness of the room adds an edge to your haziness, blurring the furniture in a way that dampens your mood.

You've been curious about Logan's room longer than you'd ever admit, and now that he's pulled you into it to not-so-discreetly scold you when all you want to do is go to bed, you can't even enjoy the benefit of taking in your surroundings.

You take advantage of the fact that your back is to him, eyes falling shut as you focus on ignoring the buzz of the electricity powering his bedside lamp. The plights of being an exhausted technopath.

There's a severity to his presence, a sharpness in the way he lingers behind you. It'd be all too easy to leave him to his brooding, to halfheartedly accept any verbal lashings he feels like giving you and be done with it. But Logan knows you, knows how you work well enough to find a way to interpret your lack of commentary into something it's not, a sign that something is wrong with you beyond a scrape against your temple and a drowsiness you're not used to.

"So," the word feels flat, almost distorted, "This is your room."

He exhales, a puff of air that tells you he's in no mood for anything lighthearted. "What were you thinking?"

Logan had asked the same question of everyone else involved. "That I was helping people."

There was nothing dramatic or life threatening about the scratches against the side of your face. You were thrown to the ground and the gravel cut against your cheek and the side of your forehead. You were quick to get up and put the person that attacked you in their place.

He walks forward, turning to face you. His attention remains fixed on some point that seems to exist right past your shoulder. "If it helps, I broke the other guy's nose right after."

Logan doesn't exactly ease, but you don't miss the way the corner of his mouth attempts to tug itself upwards. "Yeah?" The word's more amused than he wants it to be.

"Mhm," you hum cheerily, recalling the sting of your knuckles and the sound of bone cracking. That had been the part of the mission you wanted to tell him about. "Punched him just like you showed me."

His eyes briefly meet yours before falling towards the floor. "Deserved more than a punch."

You sigh. "Come on." When he doesn't react, you take a cautious step forward. Logan still doesn't look at you. "It's not that bad."

"You're bleeding."

Any blood staining your skin is old and dry. If Logan hadn't found you so quickly you would have cleaned it yourself in the bathroom. You barely had time to finish changing into your pajamas before Logan knocked on your door. "It's old." Your assurance doesn't ease him. You take another step in his direction. "Logan."

He lets out a breath, the sound pointed. "You didn't let anyone clean it?"

The question is the closest he's come to your usual dynamic. There's nothing passive aggressive about it, and yet it manages to dig at you a little more than anything else that's been said.

Logan's older than you. It's no secret and rarely a source of concern, the two of you comfortable enough with the age gap in your sort-of-friendship for you to occasionally joke about him being an old man. But when things like this come up, and he worries a little too much, a part of you starts to wonder if he only tolerates you because he sees you like a little kid.

You lift your chin slightly, doing your best to seem a little more stable. "I'm not one of the kids, I can clean my own cuts."

His eyes meet yours, the look warning you against leaning into anything overly confident. You resist the urge to smile. "Aren't you all grown up, bub?"

Your lips part, but you're too distracted by the uneasy warmth settling in your chest to think of a response. The corner of his mouth bends into what feels like a partial smile. The look vanishes before you can be sure.

He turns with no warning, walking towards an unfamiliar door. You watch him for a long moment before following.

Logan opens the door, turning his head slightly to make sure you're behind him. He turns on the light before fully stepping into the room. You inhale sharply in an attempt to dismiss the burning pressure of the influx of electricity.

His bathroom is tidy, with only a toothbrush and a soap dispenser taking up the counter space next to his sink; a navy blue bath mat in front of the shower; and neatly hung towels. Something about seeing this feels oddly personal, and you're not sure why. It's only a bathroom, and it's only Logan.

He halfheartedly taps his fingers against the counter once. "Sit," said in a tone that is only ever used when he's not in the mood to be contradicted, even if you only mean to do so adorably.

The warmth returns with a vengeance, but you obey anyway. As long as he's preoccupied with you, he's not lashing out at anyone that might have seen what happened to you and not attempting to kill Scott for thinking to ask you to go on the mission.

You pull yourself onto the counter, placing your hands on your lap to limit the space you're taking up. Logan twists the faucet before reaching for a wash cloth. He dampens the cloth before bringing it to your cheek. He dabs at the scraped skin with a carefulness that twists your stomach.

"You need to take better care of that face." It's meant to be another way of scolding you, but the words lack any bite.

If you were less aware of your breathing, you'd roll your eyes. "It'll heal."

Logan sighs, moving the cloth up your temple. He finds a particularly ginger spot beneath your eyebrow, you press your lips together to keep from reacting. He pulls the wash cloth away, giving you a look that makes you feel terribly transparent. "You're hurt."

"I--" You cut yourself off. There's little point in attempting to lie to him, especially when he's looking at you like that. "I'm a little sensitive, but that's normal. You're just not used to it because you heal too fast."

"Too fast?"

You nod, glad for the excuse to turn this onto him. "If you healed at the same rate as most of the population, you'd look at it like a paper cut."

He throws you a look that's entirely unconvinced as he sets down the wash cloth. "I'm sure."

Logan picks up the Neosporin he set aside earlier, applying some of the ointment to his fingers. He hesitates before dabbing the product against your skin. His other hand finds the other side of your face, thumb pressing into your chin to turn your head to better assess his work.

His eyebrows pull together as he searches your features for something you don't understand. You're not convinced he's found it, but he does eventually let you go.

Instead of moving away from the counter, Logan holds his hands out in front of you. It takes you a moment to understand what he's asking, but once you catch on you offer him your own hands, letting him study your knuckles.

The skin is a little irritated, but far from as agitated as the scrapes against the side of your face. "At least you got some good hits in."

The validation comforts you more than it should. You're glad he's too focused on your hands to see your smile. "I'm tougher than I look."

He lifts his head slightly, eyes finding yours in a way that feels a little softer than before. "I don't doubt that, kid."

Logan releases you carefully, setting your hands back onto your lap. He keeps himself there for a moment, fingers resting against the back of your palm. When he does move away, he does so to reach for the Neosporin.

You roll your eyes as he applies the product to your knuckles. "You're very dramatic tonight."

He glares in a way that tells you you're in no position to comment on his level of concern. Usually, you'd push, but he's probably been through enough tonight. And maybe--only maybe--a part of you is enjoying his version of coddling.

Logan picks up the wash cloth again, wiping the excess product onto the fabric before taking a partial step back. "You're clean."

He's still in front of you, too close to let you push yourself off of the counter. "Thanks." Your fingers tap against your knee. "Anything you want to yell at me or was that a Scott only thing?"

He scoffs. "I told him if you came ba--"

"I'm fine." His irritation at the correction is enough to silence him. "And it wasn't his fault." A completely true statement, considering Scott was nowhere near you when it happened.

Logan places one hand on the counter, the side of his thumb nearly touching your thigh. "It was his idea for you to be there." Another fact, though one that's completely disregarding the complexities of the situation. A single touch from you completely fried the security system being used to hold other mutants hostage. "He was outside of your room while you were changing..."

What? You blink, so surprised in the change of topic you don't even know where to start. "Uh--" In all honesty, you had thought Scott was kidding about staying near you until the situation was diffused. You also thought it was ridiculous to assume Logan would see you before morning. "He said proximity to me would make it less likely for you to kill him."

His eyebrows draw together, his expression morphing into something you can't quite interpret. "Not his best theory."

Now it's your turn to glare. While you're not particularly fond or un-fond of Scott, he doesn't deserve the blame for this. "Not his fault, either."

He frowns in a way that's meant to let you know that you'll have to agree to disagree. Logan watches you for another moment before taking a step back. You use the space to push yourself off the counter. He--he's closer than you thought he'd be.

"I uh--" You let out a breath, focusing on the drowsiness that had been bothering you the entire way back from the mission. This isn't the longest you've ever gone without sleep, but the mission had drained you. There had been a lot of complicated technology in the facility that you had to concentrate on mentally hacking. "I think I'm gonna go to bed."

Logan presses his lips together before letting his gaze fall to the ground. "You can--" The words are mumbled, hesitant. "You can stay in here tonight, if you want."

You blink. He um--You guys have spent a fair amount of time together, more so than usual recently, but he's never implied anything like this. The only thing more startling than the offer is the fact that it isn't...unappealing.

You like being around Logan more than you'd ever admit. You're always looking for excuses to be around him more, and now he's giving you a reason to stay.

"Yeah," the response feels too uncertain, too surprised. "If it'll help your old man heart to see that I'm perfectly fine."

He angles his head to the side, the corner of his mouth pulling itself upwards. "As long as you're doing me a favor."

"I know," you say, glad for the excuse to return to a more familiar dynamic, "I'm so kind."

Logan turns around with a slight sigh, "Mhm."

It's easy to follow him out of the bathroom. "That felt sarcastic."

"No," he lies, pulling back his sheets before sitting on the left side of his bed, "You're a saint."

You hesitate, standing halfway between the bathroom door and the bed. It's just Logan--who sits with you to watch movies he couldn't care less about, who actually listens to you, who sits you down on his bathroom counter and applies antibiotics to split skin.

You walk towards the other side of his bed. Logan pulls back the sheets on the other side of the bed before you sit. Now that you're actually resting beneath comfortable bedding, the exhaustion that you've been ignoring all night spreads over your limbs.

He reaches for his bedside lamp but doesn't turn off the light. "Comfortable?"

You mumble your confirmation before the room's soft light vanishes with a soft 'click'. It hits you, then, that you still haven't been able to take in his room the way you would've liked to. Maybe in the morning.

You lay down, pulling the comforter up to your neck. There's something distinctly relieving about the end of the day, when all forms of electricity are turned off and the buzzing beneath your skin is finally given a way out. You've gotten better at controlling it, at ignoring it until it's little more than background noise, but when you over use your abilities, the mental shield that divides you and the feeling begins to slip.

You're somewhere between asleep and awake when some instinct convinces you to squint your eyes open. A final look at Logan, and that'll be enough. It's too dark for you to make out much more than a vague silhouette, but something about his rigidness tells you he's far from asleep.

"Logan?"

He's silent for so long you begin to wonder if he's going to pretend to be asleep. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you say, and for a moment you're almost taken back by how much you mean it. "I was just..." There's no real end to your sentence. You don't know why you couldn't let yourself fall asleep. Maybe it had been the way he looked at you, concern too genuine over something so small. "Are you okay?"

You hear him let out a breath. "Anything could have happened."

There's a heaviness to his voice that immediately presses itself against your chest. Did this--did it really scare him that bad? You know he's used to the rapid rate at which his body repairs itself, but that doesn't mean that anyone that recovers at a regular rate is on death's doorstep over something so small.

"But it didn't." He scoffs, the sound dismissive. You move onto your side. "It didn't." When he doesn't react, you reach for him. He doesn't move away when you bend your fingers around his forearm. "And what didn't happen doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm here."

You pause, dragging your thumb against his skin. Logan lets out another breath, the sound something that lacks acceptance. He moves his arm away, but before you can read too much into the movement, his fingers are bending around your own.

[delphi-shield]

OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs

the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.

Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 

It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 

He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 

Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.

Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.

”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”

At least you get movie dates out of it.

Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.

I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.

Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.

Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.

Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.

Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?

Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.

He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'

Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.

Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.

She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.

Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.

And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.

If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.

Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.

Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.

Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.

Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.

Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.

Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)

Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.

Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?

Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.

Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 

Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”

Unironically sent you a minion meme once.

It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.

If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!

If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.

Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.

[renthony]

Hope in the Hellfire: Revisiting Fahrenheit 451 in 2024

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

When I first read Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, I wasn’t much younger than seventeen-year-old Clarisse McClellan, one of the novel’s major characters. In many ways I was like her: disgruntled with classmates who found me off-putting, eager to talk to adults who would entertain my unusual questions, and constantly off exploring the woods. I was a bookish loner who struggled socially. I proudly read banned books, and carried around my mom’s paperback copy of Robert A. Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land—a book formally banned from inclusion in my high school’s library or curriculum—as a passive challenge for adults to try and confiscate it. None ever tried, but I sure was prepared to raise hell.

Revisiting Fahrenheit 451 in 2024 is a strange experience, not just because of the book’s political commentary. In 2024 I am 30 years old—the same age as Guy Montag, the protagonist. It is easy to put myself in his shoes now, the way I once put myself in Clarisse’s.

Montag is a fireman in a world where every house is fireproof. Instead of extinguishing fires, Bradbury’s firemen collect and burn books. Without books, the population is ignorant and complacent, kept busy with mindless screen entertainment.

Like Montag, I live in a world where books are targeted by a hostile government. In 2024 I live in Florida, where Governor Ron DeSantis makes regular headlines for his crusades against public education, libraries, and books. Many an op-ed has been written about the relevance of Fahrenheit 451 in our times, and it almost feels cliché as an anti-censorship advocate to list it as one of my favorites.

Cliché or not, I can’t help it. Fahrenheit 451 is a warning against censorship, yes; it is a pointed exploration of 1950s American social anxieties, yes; it is a well-written piece of fiction containing rich descriptions of exciting events, yes; but more than that? Fahrenheit 451 is one of my favorite novels because it leaves me feeling hopeful in the midst of social upheaval.

After stealing and reading forbidden books, Montag’s life spirals out of control. His wife sells him out to the authorities, he kills a former colleague in self-defense, he is pursued in a televised government manhunt, and before the story ends he watches bombs reduce his former home to rubble. Montag survives, but he doesn’t fix the world. He is not the victorious hero of a glorious rebellion. Many, many books get burned, and people die. Yet still, there is hope, because Montag finds community. He finds a way to help preserve the books’ contents so they can be passed down to later generations.

In 2024, Fahrenheit 451’s message is important not only because it warns against censorship, but because it reminds us that even if the road ahead is difficult, even if things get worse before they can get better, even if some stories are lost, there are still countless unnamed, unnoticed people fighting to preserve and share knowledge.

The best part is that any of us can join them.

_

Written on commission, using the prompt, “500 words about your favorite pre-1960s Sci-Fi.”

Lovingly dedicated to the Queer Liberation Library (on tumblr as @queerliblib!) for their ongoing mission to make queer eBooks accessible. Check them out at queerliberationlibrary.org!

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[susicheng]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ dm for prices      l.mk

chapter 6 perfect match

something that you pride yourself on is your easygoing nature. you're nonchalant. you don't really care what people think of you. it was honestly relieving, to exist in peace and not stress over every minuscule interaction you have throughout the day.

now, though, that nonchalance was nowhere to be found. it was just mark lee, seriously, what was the big deal? sure, he would be inside of your apartment. sure, you're also so attracted to him you may or may not have already had your fair share of wet dreams that can never, EVER be mentioned around ten lee (you knew he would never let you live them down). it's not like you guys were going to go at it like rabbits. he was just a guy coming over to watch spiderman movies with you. no biggie. 

a knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts. with one final glance at the mirror, you turned to welcome your (kind-of) drug dealer into your apartment. the door swung open to reveal mark lee, in all of his glory, carrying multiple grocery bags in either hand.

"hey, mark. i told you that you didn't need to bring anything." you reached out to take some of the bags from his hands, pointedly ignoring how domestic and natural it felt between the two of you to behave in such a way. 

"i know, it just felt wrong to come empty handed. it's just some more snacks and some drinks haha" he toed his shoes off and fully entered your apartment, shutting the door behind himself. "thanks for having me over, by the way."

"don't say that yet, you might be begging to escape later" you glanced up at him with a smile on your face, finding the same expression mirrored on his own face "i get more serious about marvel than you might be prepared for."

"little do you know, i'm so serious about spiderman that it's been banned at our friend group's movie nights."

"sounds like we're the perfect match then."

you had both gathered small snack plates, filing into your bedroom (ohmygod mark lee in your bedroom. getting into your bed. holy shit. you did not think this part through). the deep breath that you had to suck in was mildly humiliating, but the way mark almost tripped over a stray cinnamoroll plush on the ground was more humiliating, so you took that as a win. 

you felt comfortable with him. it wasn't necessarily surprising that you had managed to become so friendly with him in a short period of time, but it was surprising that you already wanted him this badly. you might need to stage an intervention for yourself, because there was no reason mark lee should look that good curled up in your bed, watching intently as tom holland flys across the screen. 

you could see why these movies were banned in his friend group, with mark's frequent commentary and analyses cutting into the movie. if you weren't so obsessed with his voice and his semi-alarmingly in depth theories, you might have even been annoyed. instead, this was filed away in your brain as "top 10 cutest things mark lee has ever done." 

you had a feeling you would be adding on to that list quite a lot in the coming weeks.

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⊹₊⟡⋆ mel's corner: sorryy for such a delayed update ahhh! the holidays + work are keeping me booked and busy but thank you all so much for your patience <3

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[corseque]

On the scale of 1 (Rise of Skywalker) to 10 (Shadowbringer/Endwalker), where would you place Veilguard?

critical post

I’ve burst into enraged tears like 5 times since I finished it, which is not nearly even close to as many times as Rise of Skywalker, but still 5 times too many. Just the shallowness of the writing, the obviousness, the incredible frustration at the simplicity, the ignoring so much of my favorite character in order to make a stupidly simple plot work, the horrendous time I had trying to ignore Rook’s annoying stupid fuckass pov while just trying to self-insert myself into the end of my favorite fictional character of all time’s story after waiting 10 years. I screamed in frustration that I had to hear the painfully obvious commentary these brand newcomer characters who I did not give a shit about, explaining to me like a toddler how I should feel about revelations I have been writing about for 10 years, especially when what they were saying was stupid as fuck. I cried at the thought of so many cutscenes and so much effort went into stories I found very forgettable and went nowhere, while they were able to only scrounge up like 10 total animated shots reuniting Solas and Lavellan. I mourn that I could not make any decisions in a BioWare game. I mourn Solas’ story so much, and probably will for years. I will never get over the way they talked down to him and never listened to him for even a second, lest they actually have to write a branching path into their game. I hate that the theme was regret but Rook regrets nothing ever so (shrugs) regret doesn’t affect them or mean anything to them. I mourn the loss of the voice and point of view of his people, the ones he was fighting for, the ones who are alive. I mourn that it turns out that he’s just a stupid feral dog who is 100% wrong about everything always and he always has been from the beginning of time. I cried that the game said the answer was that Solas should NOT try to help his people and they never even discussed it as a philosophical question or the ethics of it or anything, or playing as a character so dense they never once even wondered if accidentally freeing the gods killed more people overall than the veil coming down would have. (We avoided this question like the plague, lest we feel less like purely Good Heroes who could talk down to the gods with righteous fury). I mourn that I’m never going to know what would have happened without the Veil. I feel so stupid for thinking that elves or spirits as factions would appear in any capacity with lines and perspectives in this game. I’m so angry at how safe and smoothed over everything in the setting is, and how it felt like the main characters never struggled with anything and have nothing to say. I can’t believe Dragon Age is so shallow and unsatisfying and head-empty. I mourn that the story of Dragon Age is Over to me and I will never play another game.

I’ve also cried a few times at the completely separated and individual imagery and music in the last scene. I’ve cried that my favorite character didn’t die in any world after 10 years of being at death’s door. I’ve cried at the thought of him being a little worm spirit, and that I was right about him the whole time. I cried when activating Felassan’s crystal in the final fight and seeing all the buffs. I cried when I turned the page and realized the default inquisitor was exactly the same as my personal Lavellan, down to hair style, eye color, hair color, vallaslin removed. I cried when I realized Solas thought he should have died as a spirit rather than be born. I cried that the main story Dragon Age has been telling the whole time has been about the reconciliation and freeing of my favorite fictional character. I cried that Solas and Lavellan got married in the end, when I genuinely wasn’t expecting either of them to even be alive. They’re both still alive and in love in every single world. I can’t wrap my head around that.

I have no idea where to put it. It’s a few high highs but some intolerably low fucking lows. It could have been so much worse but the bar is on the fucking floor. I go back and forth between moderate enjoyment to just being so angry. It could have been so much more and I do not know who to bite for it.

I have no idea.

[listentothelittlebird]

so I have been avidly following the lovely dbhc au that @shepscapades has made and I have made a little drabble fanfic of Doc and Xisuma because I feel very normal about them :)

setting: hermitcraft season 10, while Doc is in skyblock jail

word count: 1361

-

Doc is grumbling to himself, ramming his fist into the newly-sprouted tree with not an insignificant amount of prejudice, when he hears the distinct whistling of fireworks crescendoing towards him.

“Have you come to watch me punch wood like an imbecile?” Doc snarks, expecting to hear Scar’s fumbling denials, or Cleo’s cackling assent.

“That wasn’t the plan, no.” The quietly amused voice is far from his first prediction. An oversight on his part, really.

[Vocal Recognition: Xisumavoid.]

“Xisuma!” Doc’s next punch misses the trunk of the cherry blossom tree, glancing off the side and chipping off the bark instead. He blinks away the vocal recognition pop-up, glancing behind him just to check it really is him and not Tango with a goat horn. “Hey, man!”

“Hey! You’ve been busy.” Xisuma’s boots scuff against the cobblestone as he inspects the progress of his miserable sky island. A shulker box thunks onto the stone, freeing his hands up to brush against the cherry wood planks.

“Hardly anything else to do besides work.” Doc throws the words over his shoulder as he continues to gather his cherry wood, not one to leave a project half-done. 

His visitor is content to hum and haw at whatever he finds as Doc works away. It has only been a few days, but the one-sided commentary is surprisingly comforting. After all, no touching the ground means no redstone, which also means no time in the lab. The thought has Doc speaking up, slipping between Xisuma’s quips.

“It’s not been too busy, yeah?” Doc clambers onto the tree as he plucks off the highest branches. He pauses to flick open a calendar overlay, skimming the dates. “Nobody’s scheduled for maintenance checks until next month.” 

“It’s been alright.” The fuzzy wolf-shaped wool mask pops into view as Xisuma emerges from Doc’s pink abode. “Been a bit too quiet, even. It’s weird not having you around.”

Doc snorts to hide the way his thirium pump hiccups at the words. Logically, he knows the sound is far too soft for Xisuma to hear. Having emotions, Doc has found, is hardly ever logical.

“So you came over ‘cause you missed me?” The words are out before Doc can even try to edit the response. It instills in him the same kind of floundering exasperation he feels when trying to recall a comms message already seen by everyone.

“Well.” When Xisuma ducks his head, one ear of the knitted wolf flops to the side. “I mean. I suppose so.”

[Emotion Identified: Shyness.]

“But I did come with an agenda!” Xisuma reaches for the shulker behind him, pulling out a mobile scanner from the lab.

“You’re right about having no maintenance checks on the schedule,” Xisuma says, waving around the scanner. “With you out here roughing it out, though, I figured I should check on you.”

“Ah.” Doc chuckles, ignores his cooling vents spinning faster. “I see.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting! You look about done with your tree.” 

“I am, I think.” Doc squints through the already-thinning leaves, nodding when he finds no branches left. “Alright, one moment.”

Dismantling the remains of the trunk takes only a few seconds. Doc gathers the wood and plonks them into the chest in his shabby house, with Xisuma trailing behind. 

With two people inside, it only reminds Doc how small the shelter is. Turning around after closing his chest puts him directly in Xisuma’s space.

“So, uh.” Doc shifts back, as much as he can. He ends up plopping down on the edge of his bed, which, well. “Go ahead, then.” 

A check-up does not require much space, really. Doc has done maintenance with the hermits in caves, in redstone farms, in underwater bases and nether bases. This is just the first time Doc himself has been examined outside of the yawning expanse of their labs. The change in routine leaves him uncertain, like recalibrating on angled terrain. 

The ease that Xisuma slips into the motions does well to settle Doc’s stress, however mild. The mobile scanner takes a while to gather results, so Doc answers Xisuma’s laundry list of questions. The list of questions is one curated by both Doc and Xisuma. Most of it is data, which Doc rattles off easily from the numbers that he pulls up in the corner of his vision.

The mobile scanner beeps cheerfully just as they reach the end of the lengthy questionnaire.

“Clean bill of health.” Xisuma shows Doc the display, which focuses less on internal processes and more on external damage or abnormalities. “Although, your average temperature is a bit lower than your usual.”

Doc shrugs. “It’s the altitude, man. Going from spending significant amounts of my time in the deserts and swamps to this is quite the change. Not to mention the wind chill.” 

As if to prove his point, a gust hits the shelter hard enough to make the planks rattle and creak. With no door, the icy breeze rushes in quickly. He tucks his metal arm into his lab coat with a sigh, the exposed components always prone to freezing the fastest.

“It’s not that bad,” Doc states flippantly, knowing without looking that Xisuma is taking in his every move. “I’m working most of the time, which keeps me warm. Plus I have my lava pool to sit beside when I need to warm up.”

“If you say so.” Xisuma shifts, leaning against his crafting bench. “The moment you start to experience temperature glitches, though, call this off. The rest will understand.”

“I know, I know.” This is all in good fun, when it comes down to it. He plays along for his own amusement. “I’ll be fine, Xisuma. I know how to take care of myself.”

“That you do.” Xisuma nods, then, with an “ah” of realisation, pulls his wolf mask off his helmet. 

“Here!” It only takes a step for Xisuma to be back in Doc’s space, pulling the wool over Doc’s head before he can react. 

“Uhm.” The mask is large enough that it goes over his horns easily, fitting loosely around his face. He has to lift and adjust it slightly to get his eyes back through the openings. “What?”

“To keep you warm!” Xisuma draws back again, settling against the crafting bench and tapping his heel against its side. “I mean, even over my helmet, it sure retains the heat. I know it doesn’t quite help with your metal arm, but it’ll at least warm up your horns and face.”

Doc does feel warmer, in fact. Though that is not necessarily correlated with the wool mask itself, and more the action of gifting it to him.

“But it’s your mask,” Doc replies, a flimsy rebuttal. “For your Woolves of Wool Street.”

“I have spares,” Xisuma chimes, eyes squinting happily through his helmet. “I’m sure the others won’t mind if you’re wearing it. Take it as a souvenir, of sorts.”

“Right.” Doc reaches a hand up to the wool. The material is soft, slightly worn from use. It smells a bit like Xisuma’s armour, the polish that he uses to clean it at the end of the day. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Doc.” 

Xisuma’s communicator chimes. A quick look has Xisuma turning back to Doc with an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll come back soon, though, if you don’t mind?”

“Come back anytime,” Doc replies. He tries to reel it towards comedy with a gesture to his surroundings, his meager belongings. “You won’t be interrupting anything.”

The dry quip draws out a laugh from Xisuma, even as he gathers his shulker and activates his elytra.

“See you, Doc!” Xisuma waves from the edge of the cobblestone, then nosedives away, a rocket propelling him rapidly out of sight. 

Doc takes a moment to watch the clouds, then laughs at himself. Did he not poke fun at Tango last season, when he stared longingly at the portal Jimmy left the server with? Now look at him.  

He draws a hand up to the wolf mask, rubbing the soft knitting between his fingers, and decides that Tango absolutely cannot see him wearing this.

He can keep it on for now, though.

[justwinginglife]

Fire & Ice

Hoshina thought that you were the nicest ice queen he'd ever met.

You had grown quite the reputation for yourself, always giving your bluntest advice on how officers could improve themselves whether they asked for it or not, and regardless of if they ranked below or above you. It wasn't that you were cruel or heartless, you were simply just right.

"You're going to get yourself killed if you keep hesitating when you shoot."

"You favor your left side, try to strengthen your right sometime."

"If I can take your flimsy punch, a kaiju can too."

Your advice was always sound, but you were always so solemn when you were doling it out that other officers couldn't help but shrink at your criticism of them.

But not Hoshina. In fact, he relished the chance to let you critique him, showing him what he could improve on. It wasn't much, honestly. But you appreciated that he would actually listen to you, so you tried your best to help him where you could. He was the only person who understood that your brutal honesty came from a place of wanting to help, or at least not wanting to watch the people around you die.

Eventually, you even started to crave his commentary on your fighting, admiring his battle intellect and learning from it. You didn't mind criticism as long as it was justified and served you some use. But you thought that criticism due to ill will was just stupid.

Lately, some people had started spreading gossip about you just because you'd said something a little too harshly and hurt someone's feelings. You didn't know who it was because you were always hurting someone's feelings. But in this line of work, you didn't have time to worry about manners, manners might get them killed on the battlefield. They might get you killed on the battlefield.

And you had too many goals, too many things to do, too many debts to repay, too many regrets to make up for to allow yourself the pleasure of death anytime soon.

So you pushed on, ignoring whispers about you around corners, and glares at you in the hallways. You wished someone had told you all the things you were lacking when you were younger, maybe then you would've been strong enough to save everyone you wanted to save. But you weren't and you had to live with it. In comparison to carrying that heavy burden, you felt your fellow soldiers could bear your criticism a lot better. Maybe then they could save everyone they wanted to save. Or they'd die with your harsh words in mind; either way, you didn't feel too guilty. It was their own fault if they didn't take your advice to heart.

Even though everyday was seemingly the same, and everyone acted the same towards you, the same terrified eyes trying to avoid yours, or the same confrontational eyes daring you to say one more thing about their skills, the one person who constantly surprised you was Hoshina. His eyes were kind. His eyes lit up whenever you were around.

He'd find any excuse to talk to you, to walk with you. If you sped up to avoid him, he'd jog to keep up with you. Eventually, you found that one day you'd started matching pace with him instead.

You'd started going to the same coffee place as him and you'd order the same drink unknowingly. You'd started noting what time he arrived at base and you'd started coming into work at the same time so you could walk in together. You'd even begun saying the same things as him sometimes. It wasn't until you became conscious of all these subconscious habits you'd started forming around him that you realized the depths of your feelings for him.

You would've thought that the ghosts of all your dead family and friends constantly swirling around you would keep any feelings besides guilt at bay, but there they were nonetheless. They kept rising to the surface, flooding your cheeks with crimson whenever he came just a little too close during a training session, or complimented you just a little too much. And one compliment was already too much.

After hearing all the gossip about you, calling you the Ice Queen, you'd started to feel cold as ice yourself. So why did he make you feel like you were on fire? Like your lungs were inflamed, like your heart was ablaze, like your cheeks were burning. But it was the most delicious aching you'd ever felt.

And it was a different ache than the pain you felt for your relatives that were long gone. You knew you could never bring them back. But Hoshina, he was here everyday, you had every chance to spend time with him and it still wasn't enough. If you were on fire, you wanted to fill his lungs with your smoke. You wanted to engulf every part of him until you didn't even recognize yourself anymore, until you were just his.

At first, you tried to resist your feelings, scolding yourself for liking the first person who was ever nice to you. But then you realized that even if everyone was kind to you, Hoshina would still be the only one for you. When you met him, you hadn't laughed in years. You didn't even know if you remembered how to laugh. But then he took it as a challenge upon himself to see your smile, to coax a giggle from you, and you found it easier and easier to laugh around him, to enjoy yourself around him. He was the only person you enjoyed your time with.

After nearly a decade of reserving all the best parts of yourself, burying them deep inside you, feeling unworthy of allowing yourself any happiness, you felt you owed yourself this one chance to be free. To just be you. And if you could give yourself to anyone, you wanted it to be him.

You wanted to keep giving him things, to just give him everything. You wanted to give him your scarf in the winter, when you were scared he'd catch cold. You wanted to give him a shoulder to lean on when others were shitting on his inability to use a gun again (you hated useless criticism but you hated it even more when it was criticism of him). You wanted to give him your best jokes, you had none at the moment but you thought you'd learn just for him, just to see him laugh. You wanted to give him your happiness, give him your sadness, give him your secrets, give him your worries, give him your dreams, give him your days, give him your nights. Any part of you, every part of you, you wanted him to have them all.

You didn't know if he'd still love you, the good and the bad together, you didn't even know how much good you had to give, but you swore you'd dig for it, search for any part of you that would make him happy. Any part of you that could give him a good life, you wanted to give it. You wanted to try. And if you tried and still weren't good enough, you'd still thank him for allowing you a slice of happiness.

With all these thoughts in mind, you told yourself you'd tell him how you felt tomorrow. You collapsed in bed, ready for rest. You'd need it to prepare yourself for the big day.

Unfortunately you didn't end up getting any sleep that night.

You laid in bed and wondered if your heart would just freeze over again if he rejected you. You'd be okay with that. You think. You honestly didn't know what you were even supposed to do if he accepted you and wanted to be with you. Would you even know how to properly love and care for someone again? All you had been able to give people so far were blunt remarks.

What if you told him he sucked in bed? What if you told him you didn't like the way he snored? What if you couldn't shut up about all the things you didn't like him once you were dating? You didn't think you'd make for a very good girlfriend.

But even with that in mind, you still wanted to try.

Eventually, you hoisted yourself out of bed and went to go seek him out. You didn't have to go very far, he had been looking for you.

"Hey! You're up early today. Listen, I'm working on my skills with a single sword and I'm not happy with the way I'm progressing; you're the only one I trust to give me proper feedback. Train with me?"

You smiled at that. "Of course. Anytime."

You followed behind him as he led you to the training room. As you walked, you found your eyes roaming over his back muscles. You quickly looked down to the floor once you'd realized what you were doing. But then, in no time at all, your eyes had drifted back up again to take in every inch of his body. You really needed to tell him how you felt, it was getting cumbersome just existing near him. You needed him to put you in your place or let you run your hands all over him. You stopped in your tracks and he turned to look at you, puzzled.

"Before we do that, I need to tell you something."

"What, you're in love with me?" He joked, chuckling to himself.

You sucked in a sharp breath and then continued. "Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it."

His eyes widened. "I was kidding. Oh my god, I was kidding. Wait, what?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not kidding. I'm in love with you."

He stepped towards you. "Why is it unfortunate?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about you. It's distracting."

He took another step closer. "And... what if I said I was fine with that? Distracting you?"

"You're okay with me loving you?"

He took your hands in his. "I'm more than okay with it- I'm ecstatic."

You exhaled loudly. "So you...?"

"I love you too. And I'd love to be distracted by you any day."

"I can do that."

You started with a kiss. You honestly didn't even know if you were doing it right and you were sure he could tell you were hesitant. But it seemed he'd been waiting for this as long as you were because he took in every inch of your lips eagerly and didn't seem to care how inexperienced you were.

And the longer you kissed him, the less you cared about how inexperienced you were. You just wanted to keep kissing him, even if you were kissing him wrong.

He must've just had his coffee because you could taste it on his tongue. But you didn't mind, his coffee was now your favorite coffee after all. And it made you even more desperate to be with him knowing that he must've just woken up, gotten his coffee, and then set out to find you.

The swarm of thoughts buzzing in your brain quieted when he suddenly pushed you up against a nearby wall, his kiss more earnest now. His lips seemed to be made for yours, the way they melted against you perfectly. His hips steadied yours against the wall as he cupped your face and claimed you over and over again with passionate kisses.

He was really the most delicious distraction.

You could get lost in imagining a future with him, but the present was pretty damn good too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Yay, you made it to the end, good for you! Fun fact, kiss scene was not originally in the script for the finale, but I could hear @turtlesaee's commentary screaming at me for no kiss so I put kiss LMAO you have her to thank for the thirst at the end.

[aq2003]

really love how throughout a lot of smith and jones martha is really skeptical and apprehensive towards ten (+ one of my favorite exchanges between them - "what, people call you 'the doctor'?" "yeah?" "well, i'm not. far as i'm concerned, you've got to earn that title."), not taking everything he says at face value, even doubting the fact he's an alien until over halfway through the episode.. And like. i really truly think the thing that wins her over isn't him kissing her or any of the other insane mixed messages he manages to send, it's this scene here, where he /earns that title/ in her eyes:

(+ david's bit in the commentary, where he says: "[the doctor] has actually sacrificed himself, and - i would say, that that final act of selflessness is what finally, eventually, welds martha to him. [...] and she now returns it. she returns that act of selflessness.")

this is what their relationship is built on. it isn't about martha being the second-best replacement to rose or a rebound or whatever. bc it isn't really about rose. it's about doctor-in-training martha meeting someone (quite literally, "the doctor") whose ideals she aspires to, and doing her best to be the same person to him as he is to everyone else. it's about ten in return admiring her intelligence and inquisitiveness and how she cares for human life, recovering his compassion, letting himself lean on her for support - and then remembering at the most inopportune moments that he's supposed to not need anyone and be on his own forever. And around in their little nightmare loop they go where they save each other over and over until one of them breaks

i've seen ppl look at martha and go "why she does she admire/why is she so in love with ten if he acts like that to her?" or something along those lines and like. it's not just the fact she's in love with him (in fact i'd argue she actively tries to push it aside post-gridlock). it's the fact that she knows he's the kind of person to put everyone else's lives/well-being over his own. she trusts him to save her when she's in trouble even though it's been like two days at most that they've known one another bc she recognizes that same "deep all-encompassing drive to help others" in him. and she also recognizes, much much earlier than him, that he needs someone to save him, especially when he's unwilling to save himself. and yeah for a bit she thinks he returns her feelings and is just playing hard-to-get, but she realizes pretty early on that this probably isn't the case, and i think that realization fully solidifies here:

(this is when she's listening to ten talk abt gallifrey). And idk it might just be me but i think this expression isn't just her empathizing with his loss. it's also guilt, for wanting something from him that he's clearly unable to give when he's wracked with so much grief. (and you see it in the next episode, where tallulah asks if they're together and martha says for certain that they're not, and that he doesn't know about her feelings for him. she keeps everything to herself bc she now knows that when he shut her flirting down at the end of 3x01 it was the genuine reaction of someone who a) isn't interested and b) is scared of getting close with someone else again)

freema described their dynamic as "she's keener than him" and i think about this all the time. martha doesn't really take what ten throws at her. what she does instead is constantly poke holes in his already-failing front of "i will show someone the wonders of the universe so i can ignore what is wrong with me". what she does is stand up and fight him when he tries to go off on his own. what she does is put aside her well-being in favor of helping someone - just like what she saw him do for the people in the hospital when they first met. tldr, that's the doctor and his doctor and rip martha you would've loved who's gonna save u now by rina sawayama

[ilikekidsshows]

Marinette has a tendency to be so smug about so many things in canon that it's laughable that anyone thinks she'd be humble if she has the Rich Person Privilage that TA loves to throw shade at just Chloe for having (never mind that there are at least 4 other rich kids in Marinette's friend group, plus it's not even Chloe's money it's her parents). Let's also not forget that she both lied to her parents and wasted their money to go to Shanghai to stalk Adrien.

Much like everything else they write, the ML writers really love to play certain "social issue" cards when it's convient for them but ignore implications and double standards those cards imply. Classism is one of them. They love the concept of poor person underdog Marinette (Marinette isn't even poor and still has the privilage of being a white passing child to an at least middle class family income) but also hate the idea that she's anything less than the most popular girl in school who is well funded by (other people) money that she earned because self-sufficiency is girl power or something (girl should be flaunting that by paying for shit with her own money if she's such a girlboss business woman).

They also can't really claim Chloe has so much privilage when she's miserable and her parents are in control of her finances, and also claim that those same privilages are what she didn't want to give up when techincially, if the idea of just being in a rich family is the real privilage, it would also apply to Adrien and Felix and Zoe and Kagami and whoever else because it inherently comes with their place in the socioeconomic circle that they inherited from their parents. Marinette would also inherit that priviliage if her parents were richer but for some reason it seems like the writers think that's something that can be turned on and off and the people who are willing to turn off their privilage are the good ones?

---

The thing about the double standards of Miraculous writers is that it's another aspect of their lack of commitment to anything. They bring up issues, but only in the most bland, inoffensive way where you can ignore the commentary entirely, or they use thinly-veiled metaphors like rice flour and then tell people they're overthinking things when it gets brought up. Like, anyone can agree that rich people buying their way into success is bad, because we all value hard work being rewarded, but they won't say anything in-depth about social class and wealth and the real-life dichotomy of rich kids who have social status but might not actually have access to any of their family's privilege.

We can't ignore that the show also has Marinette insist that the abuse victim Adrien has a “perfect life” because he's rich and famous, even though these aren't things he can or is ever seen, benefit from. Of course, the “Adrien’s life is so perfect” thing started when Marinette and Adrien were getting closer to their get-together, so the romanticization of Adrien's wealth and status was done to showcase what a prize he is for our main lead.

I think that’s the difference. The people who have privilege, but are good to Marinette, are the “good ones”, while the ones who treat Marinette poorly, are the “bad ones”. A lot of the time it feels like all morality in Miraculous is based on how characters view and treat Marinette. The most cynical take on the privilege aspect is: “Is Marinette able to benefit from this character’s wealth? If yes, it’s good!” Hypothetically, Marinette’s friends and boyfriend would be able to spend their (families’) money and influence to benefit her, so it’s good wealth.

Another aspect of the privilege of wealth is how accessible this wealth is to the characters. Kagami and Adrien don’t have access to freely spend as much as they want on things, or aren’t comfortable doing so (the show doesn't tell us which it is), so they’re the “good rich kids”. Meanwhile, Chloé is constantly benefiting from expensive purchases and social capital, be it things she asked her father for, or things her father buys for her to apologise for not spending time with her. The writers don't see that André using gifts as a substitute for quality time and affection is a form of neglect and abuse, they just write Chloé getting stuff and say that's bad. Ignore how Marinette’s parents literally tell her they’d buy her anything she asks. It's not the same thing because Marinette doesn’t take advantage of that, except when she does.

It's a double standard, and it once again has a connection to Marinette and her comfort.

[fandomfucker]

💳 💥💳💥💳💥💳 Rhea Ripley social media posts / talking bout her girlie in interviews part 2 pleaseeeeeeeee 🥵🙏

I mean, if yall are insisting…🤷‍♀️

For the purposes of this, you're not a wrestler

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/fandomfucker/745782885181734913/do-you-think-you-could-do-one-for-rhea-were-its?source=share

Also, currently getting my first tattoo as I write this so please ignore any possible grammatical errors

With the ass video going around, you’d repost it with a “😋🍽️” caption and she would immediately repost it with a “🙇🏻‍♀️🍑🍽️” or sum shit to rile up the fans

You don't have a hug social media following yourself, but they do often ask for more content. Specifically outfit of the day(s)

You make Rhea do them with you because she makes you feel more confident and in every video you can see her just staring at you in the mirror the whole time

I've already said Rhea will bully people off the internet for being me to you. But you? Oh my god you’re worse than Rhea is

If one of her co-workers says something even slightly unkind about her in an interview (Becky👀) you will go with Rhea to her next show and find them backstage

You don't even wrestle or fight but Rhea has had to pull you away from multiple people now because you will fight anybody and everybody for her

One of said fights happened to go viral online, no punches were actually thrown as Rhea had dragged you back first though

People online either loved the love between you two as a couple, or wished they had a partner absolutely willing to throw hands will someone over them

Rhea would do your makeup for videos and she'd always do her makeup on you to see what it would look like

She also does voiceovers on your own makeup videos, or a day in the life, or something

The fans always eat it up too cause Rhea's commentary is hilarious

Whenever you're backstage and Rheas going to take photos, she’ll ask you to do the shoot with her so that her fans, and yours, can get sexy pictures of you both to thirst over

Totally not because she loves seeing you both look like that and wants a picture for her lock screen

Rhea started a war of bad facetime screenshots between the two of you on Instagram and you're determined to win

To the point that you have called people to interfere in the background while Rheas at work to get a bad reaction photo out of her

She's too proud to admit it, but it's worked several times

Your tiktok has pretty much become a house reno account

You build all the furniture and shit, make the cool decorations and put them up, paint, do everything yard-eorl related while Rhea picks out what's pretty and the pretty colors

She'll also help you carry heavy stuff around cause she's jacked and you like watching her work but she mainly kinda just like, flounces around

The fans are dying for the two of you to have a show on HGTV together

Which may or may not be in the works

SCARY DOG TREND

It went VIRAL

that's how most mosherz were introduced to you as Rhea’s partner

You started vlogging, though not very often, just so that you could have the permanent memories of all the different experiences between you and Rhea

You only post like once a week but people eat it UP

You have your own merch now

Most of its the two of you but there is a shirt or two thats just one of you

There are mercy plushies of both Barry and Luna that you always have to put up for pre-order cause they sell out in seconds

Clothes for said plushies are in the works

She posts little video clips of you on her story the same way she does her dogs

And it's always the embarrassing ones where you're completely cuddled into her and shit

She got Saints of the Undead (the people who make her leather jackets) to make you a personalized one as well even though you don't wrestle

It's your favorite thing in the world and you wear it more than you should

Like it matches with nothing that you're wearing it with

But, it says “Mami’s” on the back of it so you make sure to wear it especially when you go with her to Raw, Smackdown, any povs, etc so that people know you belong to her

[manytoonepoet13]

"A passionate hand holding an icy sword."

"There's something sweet... and almost kind..."

Perhaps it was in the way he assisted them, even begrudgingly so.

Perhaps it was in the way he couldn't stand seeing them fall, not when he could do something to prevent such a thing from happening.

"But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined."

He sounded as though this world was a debate, and the entire world was his opponent.

He acted as though it was the presentation of his master's thesis, and anyone with a vague knowledge of his character was the panelist.

He appeared as though he was untouchable, heartless, arrogant, prideful... but he was rejected for having a heart that drove his mind to give any determined student a higher standing in the galaxies, so that they may reach their dreams. "

"And now he's dear... and so unsure..."

Perhaps it was the way he spent too much time reading about the universe that he forgot to admire the universe beyond mere text.

Perhaps it was the way he put too much focus on thinking that he forgot about the aspect of living.

~

"There are no less than eight documentaries detailing his legendary exploits, and over a dozen memoirs about him. However, despite the plethora of commentaries, none of them seems to provide a compelling perspective."

"One day, I received a letter from Interastral Peace Corporation. I think... it was during the successful test-firing of the anti-planetary weapon Mr. Ratio had worked on for years. I could tell the solemnity of the invitation, so I excitedly passed it on to Mr. Ratio. Yet, he said nothing. I could sense his heavy silence even through the headgear. He then politely asked me to leave. The moment I closed the door, I heard a grim sigh followed by a self-deprecating laughter... Perhaps, he realized he would never be accepted into the Genius Society..."

"From my observation, many of Dr. Ratio's supporters feel sorry for him like Margaret. In their opinion, the Society's failure to admit someone like Ratio is a manifestation of the eccentricity and narrow-mindedness of "geniuses.""

"I fully concur with your main ideas, but there's a detail that I find slightly confusing." "Whenever someone agrees with me, I feel like I must be wrong."

"My question is, why do you think knowledge is a privilege?"

"Dear Professor Roseth, your question indicates that you haven't fully grasped the content of my paper and do not understand the deductive methods I employed."

"To put it simply, you would be a great example. Your inability to comprehend my ideas shows precisely that knowledge is not for everyone. If ignorance is an ailment, it is the duty of scholars to weed it out and heal the universe. So, ladies and gentlemen, turning a blind eye to the folly of others is not an etiquette, but a wicked worldly practice. To spread knowledge, we must first make people realize their folly. The same surely applies to the scholars of the Guild."

~

His heart was the main thing that prevented him from reaching what he aspired to reach the most.

But it was also his heart that made him realize that his initial aspiration was not the true extent of what he was longing for.

It was merely a handful of sand on the shore that he sat on, where he occasionally diverted himself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered for him...

He never did any harm, he never once intended to do so.

Yet he, too, understands the saying "No pain, no gain."

He wanted to protect, he wanted to help, he wanted to heal.

"I wonder why I didn't see it there before."

[dingodad]

What's the deal with the obscure cult thing

the trolls' introductions give us an outline of each troll's position in their society. we have to remember that, at the point of the trolls' introduction, the caste system was only kind of just starting to be born as a concept. gamzee's introduction on p. 2012, where we get the "You belong to a RATHER OBSCURE CULT" line, comes a whole 70 pages before we even get this exchange:

GC: SOLLUX, PL34S3 / GC: YOU 4R3 MR 4PPL3B3RRY BL4ST 4ND 3V3RYON3 KNOWS THOS3 4R3 YOUR F4VOR1T3 FL4VORS / GC: 3V3N THOUGH YOU TYP3 1N YUCKY MUST4RD / GC: WH1CH 1S W31RD >:\ TA: maybe there ii2 more two me than you thiink. [...] maybe ii ju2t want two giive the red and blue thiing a re2t for a change and not make iit 2o iit2 liike, oh look iit2 that prediictable fuck wiith tho2e two 2tupiid color2, iit2 amaziing how much everyone fuckiing hate2 hiim.

of which Hussie has this to say in the published commentary (Book 4, p. 101):

Terezi says it's weird that Sollux types in yucky mustard, even though his "favorite colors" are red and blue. It's really not weird at all, considering literally everyone in his blood class types in that color. But this idea may not have been fully locked in yet as an ironclad canon fact. While Hivebent continuously provides the scoop on what the facts of this culture are, it is simultaneously exploring certain nebulous ideas before fully committing to them. This is a very good strategy when it comes to improvisational worldbuilding.

when Gamzee's cult is described as "obscure", it makes no sense to interpret this as meaning "obscure within his caste", because the caste idea wasn't even fully formed in the author's mind at that point in time, let alone the reader's. what that line is saying is that Gamzee's cult is obscure within his society. and everyone seems to ignore the very sentence after that comment, which says exactly what i'm saying, almost explicitly:

The beliefs of this cult are SOMEWHAT FROWNED UPON by those dwelling in more common lawnrings.

Gamzee's beliefs are strange to commoners. the very clear implication being that among the upper echelons of Alternian society, being a juggalo isn't that frowned upon at all! sometimes Hussie leaves things unsaid about the world of Homestuck because they're not important or to deliberately leave them up to interpretation, but quite often things go unsaid because when you read between the lines they really should speak for themselves. the fact that Alternia's upper castes are more and more uncommon is one of these things (but to drive the point home, there's this comment from Formspring: "lower classes must be much more copious than higher classes. The lowbloods die off much more quickly, and so must be spawned in greater numbers.").

it's odd that this particular "obscure cult" line has become a sticking point, because Kanaya's intro does the exact same thing when it describes her as "one of the few of [her] kind who can withstand the BLISTERING ALTERNIAN SUN, and perhaps the only who enjoys the feel of its rays." we all seem to understand that this isn't claiming daywalking as a unique power of Kanaya's, but merely hinting at the fact that Kanaya is part of a rare caste with that ability. I guess many don't make the comparison because Gamzee's caste is never explicitly singled out as a rare one?

from there, what limited background we do get on the Alternian regime hammers home the point. "subjugglator" (this has the word juggalo in it. a lot of people try to get out of this one) and "Highblood" are used as functional synonyms in Scratch's intermission:

p. 4054: The highbloods were livid over the unprecedented heresy, and soon, a massive sectarian war followed, spreading across the planet and throughout the galaxy. The conflict was lopsided of course, with the Highbloods given full support from the Condesce and her sea dwellers. p. 4063: [the Condesce] could use her leverage to delegate oppression to the subjugglators, whose unique abilities and exceptional brutality made them natural enforcers. They too would delegate in their governance, exploiting the pride and loyalty of dangerous bluebloods beneath them...

the fact that the guy literally called The Grand Highblood is a massive clown is basically garnish; but the fact that the word Highblood with a capital H, even outside of the context of Gamzee's ancestor, was basically used exclusively to refer to purplebloods in the comic seems to have been largely forgotten. this only continues into Act 6, even when a lot of the fandom's misconceptions and reconceptions of the lore started to seep into the comic proper:

You're not really up on Alternian history, but apparently at some point the empress got fed up with the Subjugglators' stranglehold on the soda market, and released a drink that was said to be more loaded with sugar than even the wicked elixir itself. The Highbloods considered such marketing reports to be blasphemous lies, however. (Act 6 Intermission 1, part 2)

emphasis all my own, to make clear that basically no distinction is made between Highbloods as a political institution and the subjugglators as a religious authority. but really, Act 6 is when the whole clown thing should have started to become really obvious, anyway, with lines like "There was this sense that [the Condesce] just loved the idea of delegating the extreme subjugation of the world's population to a pair of demented clown rappers" and the increasing inescapability of Lord English's influence on the story only entrenching that the presence of these juggalos on Alternia had real significance and was not some one off joke.

years ago when it was at its peak, the idea that the subjugglators "were only ever meant to be an obscure cult" seemed to me to have originated among troll enthusiasts who dropped off the comic around Scratch's takeover and didn't really care for overarching plot points like Lord English taking prominence into Act 6. but I guess now that troll discussion has started to center the design process that went into the Hiveswap trolls, the argument has circled back around into the mainstream? but basically to answer your question the deal with the obscure cult thing is that it's bogus. people wanted to make fantrolls who weren't juggaloes because what they fundamentally forget is that a race of juggalos controlling alternia is actually meant to be, and is, really fucking funny

[the-derpy-duck]

Ok so I haven’t finished the season 2 episodes yet but so far I think it’s been less good than season one but I don’t dislike it. I think, so far, it’s been good. Season 1 was really good and I think a lot of people built up expectations for season 2 and when people have really high expectations the end result tends to disappoint people regardless of its actual quality. Because the potential of where the story could go wasn’t really divisive and as long as that story is unfinished people can take that potential and run in whatever direction they’d like to. The decepticons potentially being not pure evil made people, myself included, interested. It presented an idea and people got attached to that idea and built up a lot of expectations for it. Specifically with Starscream because a most TF media tends to gloss over or oversimplify his morals and relationship to Megatron and the world around him. Armada is the main exception I can think of outside of like IDW, but generally the shows present the relationship between Starscream and Megatron as highly questionable to outright abusive without any other commentary on it and no one really giving a shit. Which could be intentional and helping to characterize the decepticons as a group that doesn’t care about its members because everyone ultimately either wants power or to not die, but I honestly don’t think a lot of the writers were thinking about that. Cyberverse COULD have been intentionally ignoring all of the death (which there is a LOT of) to show how Cybertronian society has decayed and made war and death and suffering so common that no one really stops to grieve. But it also could have been a kids show that had 11 minute episodes and was taking on topics that it was not ready or able to properly address. Same for TFA and TFP (and rescue bots, as much as I hate to admit that). I like these shows and I like to believe my own reading of it, but I do not believe that this was at all the intention of the shows writers.

The author is dead and I killed them, but it was really cool to have a TF show that actually seemed to be diving into the repercussions of Cybertronian society and specifically the consequences of Megatron’s actions on the people around him. And for those consequences to hold weight and be taken seriously, not brushed off because the characters affected by him were also villains. And that’s part of why I think people are disappointed by season 2 so far. Because it seems that all the potential was just waisted. The time skip caused us to miss out on a really ingesting idea, it would have been really cool to see the decepticons go from siding with the heros to being against them. Starscream’s entire thing is betrayal and we skipped over a major betrayal???

And my commentary is very starscream heavy because a lot of what people liked was centered around him. After Megatron he’s probably the most complicated character, especially morally speaking. We haven’t gotten the entirety of season 2 yet. I think this might only be 1/3rd of it. So I don’t want to make a big statement like ‘earthspark is ruined! The show sucks now!’ because I don’t think that’s true at all. I wish a few things were done differently, but I want to see this story completed and I want to see what story they are trying to tell. I don’t think a story being incomplete negates it of criticism (*cough*tfa*cough*) but I think it’s not fully fair to make a final judgement on an incomplete product, especially if it is still being made. Season one of earthspark was some of the best storytelling trasnformers has done imo, but it is not the completed show.

TL;DR: Season two is alright, it’s also not done being released yet and I want to wait until it’s completed to make a final judgement. Oh and also bumblebee is here