#recorded suicide note

[banglakhobor]

Nitin Desai death case: রেকর্ডিঙে নাম পাওয়া গেল ৪ জনের, নিতিনের আত্মহত্যার দায় কার?

জি ২৪ ঘণ্টা ডিজিটাল ব্যুরো: বুধবার বলিউডের জনপ্রিয় আর্ট ডিরেক্টর(Art Director) নিতিন দেসাইয়ের(Nitin Desai) আত্মহত্যার ঘটনায় গভীর শোকাহত বলিউড। ‘লগান’(Lagaan), ‘যোধা আকবর’(Jodha Akbar) থেকে শুরু করে ‘দেবদাস’-এর (Devdas) মতো একাধিক ছবির আর্ট ডিরেকশন এমনকী প্রোডাকশন ডিজাইনেরও কাজ করেছেন নিতিন। তাঁর আচমকা আত্মহত্যায় কার্যত বাকরুদ্ধ বলিউড(Bollywood)। ময়নাতদন্তে(Autopsy) উঠে এসেছে যে গলায় ফাঁস দিয়ে…

[cleromancy]

oracle year one born of hope from batman chronicles #5 (published 1996) is hands down the best defridging story ive ever read for a lot of reasons--the first being just that its such a damn good comic in the first place. but every time i read it im so struck by the way it reframes the casual *incidental* violence done to barbara in TKJ, where she's just an obstacle in the joker's way to get to jim (to get to batman) and it's not *about* her. on the very second page of OYO we have this:

the entire page (...minus bruce in the bg up there) is drawn from barbaras point of view while she recounts the incident from her hospital bed. literally recentering her and her perspective, her experience and her feelings. where TKJ sensationalizes and sexualizes the violence done to her we see an illustration of her choice--love for her father, "don't get up"--then the shock and pain of the injury, then the operating room.

and she opened the story with "i cant believe i was such an idiot," berating herself for not looking through the peephole or using the chain on the door before she opened it, emphasizing that she knew better, and its a very human response to being the victim of something like this--almost fixating on a small mistake you made. inside the story its about the grief and the sense of control bargaining gives you--"if only i had--!" and then on the meta level its actually addressing the "well why DIDNT barbara look through the peephole???" (<- the answer being that TKJ never considered whether or not she would have, bc that was less important to the story than hurting her.)

and the next page. god. its masterful:

the balance of OYO being a response to TKJ on a meta level and the genuine story-level exploration of barbaras feelings just in the first 3 pages alone... chefs kiss. the way it addresses the previous bullshit storytelling choices--but builds something new off of them, because that shouldn't be the end of barbaras story.

and its so fantastic bc it doesn't shy away from barbaras ugly feelings...

she's so angry and she's allowed to be. and thats also what makes it such a good defridging--that its a resonant portrayal of becoming disabled. anger, grief, humiliation, shame, fear, the absolute *slog* that is recovery, the realization that your independence has been compromised... it really reckons with what this means for her in that moment and moving forward.

just posting this one bc i love her...

and the crux of the story is barbara taking control back over her life, barbara not feeling helpless anymore. its a superhero origin story to its core and its fantastic at what it does.

and i mean... i do always feel iffy about this part:

the juxtaposition of her wanting to do this without batmans help with her, well, unknowingly accepting bruces help. makes seesaw motion with hand. i always feel like its a bit of a weak spot... i like elements of it, particularly *because* this work is addressing so much of TKJs bullshit; this is making bruce actually care about barbaras injury because fuck you he *should* care, he *should* do something. and barbaras need for independence and her struggles to accept help are pretty central to her character and in a story about disability... i mean interdependence is a core tenant of disability rights activism, no man is an island and all that. but btwn it being bruce who finds richard dragon for her to train with, and richard dragon both being yknow a man and not a wheelchair user himself, it falls flat. which is really something you notice bc the rest of the story is so damn good... its hard for me to put my finger on exactly what i think they should've done instead, bc they only had 18 pages for this story and like. it's incredibly tight, not a panel wasted, so it *was* important that barbaras teacher be someone we the reader already know, and there was no *time* to establish some other way for barbara to find someone of richard fucking dragons caliber on her own without bruces connections.

but that i guess does bring me to. the other thing i find frustrating re: OYO which is just that it's. 18 pages collected with two other stories, neither of which is memorable... i mean how many other year ones of a heavy hitter like barbara freakin gordon can you think of with less than a single full issue? and batgirl year one had 9 issues (9 mediocre, mediocre issues). i dont think OYO needed that much time (but hey neither did fucking bgyo)... but come on. come on!!!!!!

anyway whatever. oracle sweep

[zebedeezing]

Really awful that this even needs to be a thought in my head at all but I’m dreading that if Liam Payne’s death is indeed a suicide, people will make it about ‘cancel culture’ and ‘mob mentality’ and whatever the fuck and dismiss and harass his ex and the women who’ve spoken out about his behaviour recently. Make no mistake regardless this death is shocking and tragic, but the internet is allergic to nuance, feel like its gonna get pissed away, all the allegations made ‘nought’ or excessive or all equates to harassment and bullying. It’s gonna become a talking point about fucking ‘wokeness’. Any victims who’ve stepped forward, they’re gonna hear ‘Didn’t you get your wish? You killed a man’. Jesus Christ.

[il3x]

Actually, that reminded me of the other cracky fix-it I came up with. Sarah Livsey gets a broken Shard; instead of conflict drive, it has a conflict resolution drive. However, Sarah/Lisa is even more of a little shit here than in canon, for Mentally Ill Reasons, so once she escapes her parents she sets up as an independent villain(?) aiming to verbally destroy the lives and psyches of every powerful parahuman in the Bay.

(You want to see what driving someone to suicide really looks like? Fine! I'll fucking show you!)

However, "powerful parahumans" means a lot more villains than heroes. Her first target is Bakuda, and it goes something like 0:35 to 1:26 of this:

(except Lisa is genuinely trying to insult Bakuda.)

It turns into one of those [Character] Gives Everyone Therapy fix-its, except Lisa is completely furious that her villainous rampage keeps accidentally making parahumans' lives better. At least until her own mental stability improves, thanks in part to the capes she's accidentally befriended.

And, much as my Lisa has Mentally Ill Motives, this helped me hit on my favourite way to characterise her in humour fics: "It's a beautiful day in Brockton Bay, and you are a horrible Thinker".

[asilosmagdalena]

Yamamoto Koji as Tomomi in Sankaku Heart

[madisonrooney]

oh continuation of my emotional miley post from yesterday

i do still sometimes refer to l&m as my arguable favorite piece of media of all time, but i make a point to include that arguable in there. i wont lie, i do think l&m is a better written and executed show than hm is, but yes, hm did have a larger personal impact on me. but also, im not just gonna call l&m my "second favorite show of all time" or dove my "second favorite person" bc theyre so much more than that and the cast and crew members ive gotten to know deserve more than that because that IS downgrading how i truly feel. but at the same time, im not gonna put l&m AHEAD of hm. im comfortable having them at a tie. it took a while for me to even get to that point, there was a long time where it felt like sacrilege to even put anything at the same level as hm, but ive accepted now that it is.

there are different things i like about each. again, i think l&m is the better show but hm had a bigger impact on my life. ill refer to dove as my favorite actress partially in the casual sense like i talked about yesterday referring to multiple people as your "best friend" sort of thing, but i also feel like dove is more of my acting girl and miley is more of my music girl. i still love doves music and mileys acting, but thats what i love the most from each of them, yknow?

and its not l&m's fault its impact on me wasnt quite the same as that of hm. it couldnt save my life bc i wasnt suicidal anymore. hm had already gotten me through the darkest part of my life in which i learned skills to never let that sort of thing happen to me again. it changed my life immensely, but there was only so much it could do at that point yknow.

anyway im rambling main point is i think its fair to call l&m my arguable fav piece of media bc i think just saying "one of" is downgrading its significance. i say "one of my favorites" about a lot of things because i DO have a lot of favorites but i need anyone who doesnt already know this about me that l&m is far from just among my favorites, its as close to the top as you can get. but i want to include hm at the same time.

[zemnarihah]

i got pulled over and i have to go to court i think

[shaisuki]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔�� 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃: A BULLY SATOSUGU SERIES

— the following will contain warnings such as heavy bullying, nonconsensual actions such as groping, sexual acts and recording, dubious consent, dacryphilia, double penetration, anal sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, humiliation, degradation, drinking, drugs, implied drugging, overdosing, threats, blackmails, sabotage, allusions to depression/suicide, oc characters, fatphobia, gaslighting, emotional abuse, name calling (pig related names), mild injuries, praise. more tags to be added as the series proceeds. dead dove do not eat.

notes this was intentionally a lone fic with no future parts and here we are. the comments are what i didn't expect and completely blown out by the feedback i received. let's see how the series will go on. i thank you all from the bottom of my heart to those who commented, who gave the effort to reblogged and to the notes. it really gave me the boost to write more about this series. we will get to the revenge arc soon.

synopsis you got tangled with the university's golden boys and they made their everyday mission to made your life miserable. what happens if it gone too far? or was it already doomed from the start since they first laid their eyes on you.

𝙰 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙰𝚃 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴

synopsis evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.

𝙻𝙾𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂

synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.

𝚆𝙰𝚁��𝙴𝙳 𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂

synopsis they didn't know that would be the last time they will see you.

𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂

synopsis you finally started what you want

𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴

synopsis a old memory surfaces.

𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙻 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂

synopsis after three years you're once facing again your tormentors. will you still be the same after that years or would it open new found feelings?

𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻

synopsis to break from the past you desperately want to forget, facing them is the only choice you have left to move forward and is forgiveness is easy to be given as it was forgetting.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝚈 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝚁𝚈

synopsis they meet you now after three grueling years and one thing's not changed. is that you still look pretty when you cry.

𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚂𝙴𝙴

synopsis you got closure and it was rewarding as it was painful.

𝙼𝚈 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙹𝙾𝚈

synopsis the reason you decided it's payback time.

𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂

synopsis

𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

▶𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝚂

synopsis after the punishment you took plus being sick gave them the reason to visit after your two days of absence.

▶𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃

synopsis a shopping trip with the two sounds fun but it's actually not. you hope that it won't be hectic for you and it would be the first they are genuinely nice to you.

— more to add

MOODBOARDS one | two

taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey @spicana @luvsymai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @aesonsgirl @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunaemoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno @sleighter @haesify @desperadaparasapagmamhal @ichikanu @daytej @0honeylemonade @definetlythinkimanalien @thulhu @mastermasterlist1p1

want to be tagged? just comment.

[genderkoolaid]

In 2014, the Gloucester county school board voted to ban Grimm, then 15, from using the boys’ bathrooms, even though he’d been living openly as a boy for months and using the restroom without incident. The policy turned deeply intimate facts of Grimm’s life into a media spectacle. With the ACLU, he sued to defend his rights to use facilities that matched his gender, launching a groundbreaking national case on bathroom access. Grimm became an LGBTQ+ icon, celebrated by Laverne Cox at the Grammys and interviewed by Whoopi Goldberg on The View. He eventually won a landmark federal decision asserting trans youth’s constitutional protections against discrimination. [...] And while Grimm became a civil rights trailblazer, the case did not secure him stability or financial security. The Pride parade invites have stopped coming, and like so many other marginalized trans people, Grimm has faced significant mental health challenges and struggles with poverty. He recently lost his housing, and is now facing homelessness. “I’m someone who has had worldwide visibility. I represent an outer crust of privilege most people will never see, and I cannot make ends meet no matter how hard I try,” he says. [...] Much of his family rejected him [after coming out], but many friends and teachers were supportive as he entered 10th grade as a boy and clearly more comfortable in his skin. He initially used a private nurse’s restroom, but it was inconveniently located; peers and staff noted his long bathroom breaks, leaving him alienated and humiliated. So the principal and guidance counselor agreed to let him use the boys’ restroom, and for two months, he had no issues. But gossip circulated outside school and on a community Facebook forum, where people posted vicious comments. Friends defending him online faced harassment. “It was the adults who made it a problem, because their mentality spread to their kids,” recalls Evelyn Hronec, another friend. “These were grown adults talking about a 16-year-old’s genitals. It was vile.” At school board meetings in 2014, speakers stood feet away from Grimm, misgendering him, asking questions about his body and transition, calling him names and demanding he be kept out of boys’ facilities in the name of “safety”. In one speech, Grimm pleaded for the opportunity to “use the restroom in peace”. When a man called him a “freak” and likened him to an animal, Deirdre lunged out of her seat, she recalls. “I was fighting for his life.” [...] In 2021, the supreme court allowed Grimm’s victory to stand, and the school board was ordered to pay $1.3m in attorney’s fees. Grimm, however, only got a symbolic $1. To secure damages, Grimm would’ve had to give the opposition’s lawyers access to his medical records to scrutinize the cause and extent of his emotional distress, a process he couldn’t stomach after years of fighting. The idea he’d have to prove his anguish was unbelievable to his mom, who can’t shake the memories of her son becoming suicidal. Grimm doesn’t regret moving on without damages. But he desperately could’ve used financial help – especially as the trauma of his childhood began to catch up with him.

[bazpitch]

jerma please stream tomorrow mentally i'm in shambles i need this so bad. im taking the bus at 6:35 AM tomorrow. On the way to a job i despise

[lesbiancharliedalton]

i love how airplane cockpit recorders are like. world building devices. this is videogame brain but every random ass recording you find in fallout that’s just someone like “oh no i’m about to die please help me goodbye” is so confusing but it makes sense if you imagine it’s just a black box recorder

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories

Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)

Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!

Chapter 7 of work in progress

TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.

“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”

“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.

“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?

“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.

“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”

And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja

[hiveswap]

Summary of The Cat of The Year poll atrocities of 2023/2024

I'm sure that most people on this side of tumblr have seen the Jellie vs. Nefarious Anglerfish poll going around with like 60k votes at this point, and I'd really like clear up some of what happened since I was around for the whole thing.

Url blocked out for op's privacy. They have already left but don't look for it if you haven't seen it/don't harrass them if you already have.

1. The previous round (preparation)

I discovered the poll in its previous round, needless to say she beat Jort's ass severely. This was around the 3rd of january, meaning that this round finished before jellie's passing with only about 7k votes. Op did add their own piece of propaganda from their main:

...which was FINE. (except for stuff we'll see later) Of course running a poll while biased isn't ideal but I for one didn't even know they were the op until much later. I also added my own piece in a separate thread, and they didn't interact with it at all. There was no drama.

2. The Finale

Jellie unfortunately passed away right before the starting of this poll, which was the catalyst for what happened next. Op did exactly as last time and added a slightly more mean spirited encouragement to vote for the other contestant. This is the point where I believe that i fucked up personally.

I added this thinkpiece accusing op of associating all mcyters with Dream (who we all hate for the record) despite them not alluding to him at all. This is because tumblr has a history of disimissing all mcyters as... everything that dream was been accused of. Op did allude to not caring for mcyt. but they didn't say what i accused them of. This is important to point out because this reblog of mine is still being spread. Jellie was in the lead at the time, but not by the time i woke up next morning.

I won't be including anyone else's additions because I don't want to put blame on any specific person. Just felt like clearing up mine.

3. The Fuckening

Some time later op made this post to their personal blog:

which is insanely shitty because, as other people have pointed out, the "lame ass youtube cat" didn't die to inconvinience op or ruin their fun, and people would have probably voted for her anyway because jelly is universally beloved in the mcyt community. This isn't anti democratic. This post was added to the poll with a caption saying op should not be running this poll, and it took off. Op later went on to say that this was a joke:

This apology was not taken well by people, (including me) because "you were not meant to see it" isn't an apology and they still very much made fun of someone's pet dying. Safe to say this did not make the drama stop and only added fuel to the flame. I believe this was the point where the conversation of mcyt fans being unjustly sent hate to was reignited.

We should discuss that! it's a real thing that happens often and is equal to childish bullying. However, in this case, OP was the only one getting sent hate to my knowledge. The notes were mostly saturated by mcyt fans, and even now i can only find one or two hateful stance towards us under the whole 20k notes post.

4. Conclusions

Op posted a second apology to the catoftheyear blog to try and calm people down (i believe this is comprehensive and a lot better than the previous one) The blog was deactivated shortly after, so i only have my phone screenshots of it that i also added to the poll itself at some point:

(Edit) Here's proof that op did not write the justification they got criticised for, from the notes of the original poll:

This apology didn't get seen, or get accepted by enough people, so op made this statement on their personal:

Needless to say I am deeply dissapointed (and guilty) that it's come to this. Yes, op said tasteless things that made us all angry, but telling a human being to commit suicide is worse than being insensitive about a stranger's pet dying. Even after I posted about the blog being decatived i had someone come into my notes to wish that "they never find happiness" i mean wtf. This isn't like shipping where we can do whatever without the content creator's input. this is fucking harrowing and i can't imagine how i'd feel if this was done in my/my pet's name especially after losing them as recently as a week ago.

I hope no one from hermitcraft who is on here (let alone scar holy shit) learns about this like they did with previous lighthearted tournaments. If you truly respect the creators you claim to be a fan of as people, you do not tell people to kill themselves over them. And finally, let Jellie fucking rest, guys. she had a long, good life. I hope op can come back and also avoids behaving like this if they ever wish to do so. I'm angrier at mcytblr, though.

[judgeitbyitscover]

Southern Reach series (10th Anniversary Editions) by Jeff VanderMeer

Cover art by Pablo Delcan

MacMillan, 2014-2024

Annihilation (2014)

Area X has been cut off from the rest of the world for decades. Nature has reclaimed the last vestiges of human civilization. The first expedition returned with reports of a pristine, Edenic landscape; the second expedition ended in mass suicide, the third in a hail of gunfire as its members turned on one another. The members of the eleventh expedition returned as shadows of their former selves, and within weeks, all had died of cancer. In Annihilation, the first volume of Jeff VanderMeer's Southern Reach Trilogy, we join the twelfth expedition.

The group is made up of four women: an anthropologist; a surveyor; a psychologist, the de facto leader; and our narrator, a biologist. Their mission is to map the terrain, record all observations of their surroundings and of one another, and, above all, avoid being contaminated by Area X itself.

They arrive expecting the unexpected, and Area X delivers—but it’s the surprises that came across the border with them and the secrets the expedition members are keeping from one another that change everything

Authority (2014)

After thirty years, the only human engagement with Area X—a seemingly malevolent landscape surrounded by an invisible border and mysteriously wiped clean of all signs of civilization—has been a series of expeditions overseen by a government agency so secret it has almost been forgotten: the Southern Reach. Following the tumultuous twelfth expedition chronicled in Annihilation, the agency is in complete disarray.

John Rodríguez (aka "Control") is the Southern Reach's newly appointed head. Working with a distrustful but desperate team, a series of frustrating interrogations, a cache of hidden notes, and hours of profoundly troubling video footage, Control begins to penetrate the secrets of Area X. But with each discovery he must confront disturbing truths about himself and the agency he's pledged to serve.

In Authority, the second volume of Jeff VanderMeer's Southern Reach trilogy, Area X's most disturbing questions are answered . . . but the answers are far from reassuring.

Acceptance (2014)

It is winter in Area X, the mysterious wilderness that has defied explanation for thirty years, rebuffing expedition after expedition, refusing to reveal its secrets. As Area X expands, the agency tasked with investigating and overseeing it—the Southern Reach—has collapsed on itself in confusion. Now one last, desperate team crosses the border, determined to reach a remote island that may hold the answers they've been seeking. If they fail, the outer world is in peril.

Meanwhile, Acceptance tunnels ever deeper into the circumstances surrounding the creation of Area X—what initiated this unnatural upheaval? Among the many who have tried, who has gotten close to understanding Area X—and who may have been corrupted by it?

In this last installment of Jeff VanderMeer's Southern Reach trilogy, the mysteries of Area X may be solved, but their consequences and implications are no less profound—or terrifying.

Absolution (2024)

When the Southern Reach Trilogy was first published a decade ago, it was an instant sensation, celebrated in a front-page New York Times story before publication, hailed by Stephen King and many others. Each volume climbed the bestsellers list; awards were won; the books made the rare transition from paperback original to hardcover; the movie adaptation became a cult classic. All told, the trilogy has sold more than a million copies and has secured its place in the pantheon of twenty-first-century literature.

And yet for all this, for Jeff VanderMeer there was never full closure to the story of Area X. There were a few mysteries that had gone unsolved, some key points of view never aired. There were stories left to tell. There remained questions about who had been complicit in creating the conditions for Area X to take hold; the story of the first mission into the Forgotten Coast—before Area X was called Area X—had never been fully told; and what if someone had foreseen the world after Acceptance? How crazy would they seem?

Structured in three parts, each recounting a new expedition, there are some long-awaited answers here, to be sure, but also more questions, and profound new surprises. Absolution is a brilliant, beautiful, and ever-terrifying plunge into unique and fertile literary territory. It is the final word on one of the most provocative and popular speculative fiction series of our time

[wienners]

"dude its not that embarassing to rewatch some creepypasta stuff you liked as a teenager" the character i imprinted on like a baby duck at 16 was a demon from new jersey that acts like the humanization of every offspring song and canonically listens to scissor sisters. His favorite color is purple and his favorite pokemon are gengar and haunter. He leaves people notes with emojis on them. He acts like a beetlejuice scare actor at halloween horror nights. His catchphrase is "feeling sassy?" Hes (allegedly) worked with every war criminal throughout history and been every serial killer. even the gay ones. He ate a baby. His animal motif is a rabbit. Hes kind of based off the donnie darko rabbit. He almost exclusively wears merchandise of the quentin tarantino movie death proof. One of his biggest kill scenes is (kind of?) a reference to reservoir dogs. he talks to his cats in a baby voice. He wears a white fedora that makes every video he wears it in feel dated by like 7 years. Hes 5'3. Hes from new jersey. He hacked a girls tumblr blog so he could post about how awesome he is. He added a laugh track over a video of him killing people. He named a chainsaw rex. He torments people by playing frank sinatra at them. His name comes from an animal collective song. His creator drew his "true form" as a wolf anthro. Theres a (semi)canon blog entry where he makes the speakers blare rob zombie before he enters a room, then holds a guy at gunpoint to describe what he did to to him while "making sure to leave in all the cool parts". He has radioactive blood. He tried for like five whole minutes to pick up a bottle of ketchup with a grabby hand. Hes kind of suicidal.He can be reasonably compared to pretty much every major tumblr sexyman. His actor has gone on record saying heath ledgers joker inspired his acting choices. Sometimes his voice gets distorted and it makes him sound like bill ciphers first year on HRT. Hes basically like my artistic muse. For some fucking reason i associate the song cake by the ocean with him. I firmly believe that if everymanhybrid didn't require a masters degree in creepypasta autism to comprehend, he would've caused more teenage stabbings than the slenderman incident and more kin war tumblr scenarios than nagito komaeda.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 17

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Suicide character.

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Author Note: After this, you will hate Steve more.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Historic Victory! Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes Elected with Record-Breaking Votes."

You stood among the crowd in awe, feeling the gravity of the moment as Bucky stepped up first to take his oath. His right hand rested on the Bible, and his voice was steady, resonating across the packed hall and through the media broadcasted nationwide.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.”

He glanced at you briefly, pride mingling with disbelief in his eyes as he finished, “I pledge to faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter, so help me God.”

It was almost surreal, watching Bucky stand here, on the cusp of history. You could hardly believe it. He had done it; he was now the Vice President of the United States.

Then came Steve’s turn. He took his oath with an unwavering focus, his voice rich with conviction:

“I, Steven Grant Rogers, do solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

As Steve finished his oath, the crowd erupted into applause. He stepped forward, eyes fierce with resolve, and gave his inaugural speech. "Today, we embark on a new journey,” he began, his words confident and calculated. “I promise to carve out every rotten part to make this country stronger and more flourishing than ever.” The crowd cheered wildly, the energy of the historic day surging through the masses.

Standing close to Bucky, you leaned toward him and whispered, “I hate him.”

He gave a small, amused smirk, clearing his throat as he pulled you closer, his arm draping protectively over your shoulder. “Stay calm, dear,” he whispered back. “We don’t want your bitter expression captured for posterity.” He pressed his hand gently against your back as you both moved through the crowd.

Across the room, Peggy watched the two of you, noting the way Bucky’s hand never left yours, even when he greeted others. The warmth and easy familiarity between you were evident to all. Peggy, however, stood isolated beside Steve, even as every camera focused on them as the new First Couple. She was now the First Lady, yet she felt utterly invisible.

Because in Steve's eyes, he only looked for Hazel. She remembered the disappointment on his face when he learned that the woman and the little boy were not joining him for the inauguration.

Then Caroline Barnes and her husband Julius approached her, their expressions triumphant. Caroline, with a rare, large smile, was the first to speak. “Congratulations, Peggy,” she said, her tone sweet yet cold.

She’d been Peggy’s confidante for years—long before the politics, the campaigns, and all the layers of public life that followed. They shared memories that went back to the days when they were just two young women navigating life and love, laughing over coffee and late-night conversations.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline’s rare smile as she looked at you next, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. The silent message was clear: you had fulfilled your promise, standing beside her son as the Vice President’s wife.

Bucky, noticing her cold glare toward you, leaned in and murmured, “Seems like you’ve won her over.”

Just then, Natasha, a familiar figure in her sleek Secret Service uniform, approached you both. Her tone was clipped and professional. “The President would like to see you,” she said, giving you a pointed look.

You felt Bucky tense slightly beside you. As you moved to follow Natasha, Bucky instinctively stepped forward too.

“Alone,” Natasha added, her gaze shifting to Bucky.

You exchanged a confused look with him, both of you uncertain as to why you were being called without him. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. With one last glance, you followed Natasha toward the Oval Office.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Oval Office was imposing, vast and elegant. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room, yet the weight of history and power was palpable in every corner. The walls were lined with portraits of past leaders, and every polished surface seemed to reflect Steve’s ascendant status. He stood before the massive, iconic desk, hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of unyielding authority. In this space, he looked like a man who could command nations—a conqueror with the world at his feet.

As you entered, Steve turned, offering you a polished smile that held no warmth. “I imagine you’re wondering why I wanted you here alone,” he said, voice smooth yet laced with an edge that left no room for misinterpretation.

Your thoughts were racing. Being in this room with him—Steve Rogers, the man who had climbed to the highest seat of power while leaving a wake of destruction in his path—felt surreal. You could feel the walls closing in, every inch of the Oval Office amplifying the cold reality of his ambition.

Steve raised a single finger, his tone shifting to one of playful scorn. "Not once did you congratulate me." He let the silence hang, watching you. "I know why. You blame me for your friend’s death.”

Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms as his accusation hit you. “So you admit it?” you shot back, unable to mask the tremor of anger in your voice.

He scoffed, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “Admit it? That man almost sabotaged the campaign. He betrayed you, and when he paid the price, I’m the one you despise? Most people would thank me.”

The words stung, each syllable a twist of the knife. He continued, almost mockingly, his voice lowering as he leaned slightly forward. “Are you sure you’re up for this fight?” His gaze sharpened, piercing. “Find a better reason to hate me.”

Every word he spoke grated against you, each line deliberately crafted to sting. But you swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression steady, refusing to let him see the turmoil swirling inside.

He shook his head, dismissing your anger with a faint chuckle, then leaned back against the desk. “What’s your plan, then? After you bring me down—let’s say you even succeed—what’s next? Do you want Nate to grow up with a criminal for a father?”

Your mind raced, the walls of the Oval Office seeming to close in even further as his words lingered in the air. Steve's gaze was fixed on you, measuring, calculating your silence. And then, as if sensing your hesitation, he gave a triumphant smile, his voice like velvet but colder. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

He turned his back, leaving you standing there, stunned. 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Four Months Later

You sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the TV as Steve’s face filled the screen. Every channel was the same, broadcasting praise for him, with pundits and newscasters barely containing their admiration. It was unsettling. The media, usually fierce in their critiques, seemed almost reverent. You clenched your jaw, your annoyance simmering under the polished surface of his televised speeches and the careful flattery of his supporters.

From behind you, Bucky spoke up, his tone casual yet knowing. “That’s why people like him,” he said, coming closer. “He never once said he’d make this country fair or just. But he’s proving himself, little by little.”

You looked up, catching his serious expression. He continued, “Steve knew that every leader who vows fairness and justice ends up being despised as soon as they’re in power. They turn into exactly what they swore they’d destroy.”

You couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “So… can we abdicate him?”

Bucky laughed softly. “Abdicate Steve?” He smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Honey, that’s a little extreme, even for you.”

“Steve’s ascension was legitimate. He fits the role, and from what the surveys say, voter turnout was historic.” He paused, meeting your gaze with a measured seriousness. “Overthrowing him would shatter public trust—not just in him, but in the entire government.”

“Would it, though?” you asked, challenging him with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky sighed, crossing over to sit beside you. He rested his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t focus on Steve alone—consider what my position means now too. I’m still seen as ‘the new kid,’ the one who made it here because of him. Plenty of people are watching, eager to see me stumble.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the determination there, but also the caution. Bucky knew the stakes, perhaps even more than you. You could feel the weight he carried, the delicate balancing act of supporting Steve while laying the groundwork for his own ambitions.

He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his voice low and resolute. “People may believe in me, but if we move too fast, we’ll lose them. And I won’t let that happen. I know you believe I could make a good president—and I plan to get there. But…” He paused, looking into your eyes, “we have to be patient.”

You remembered the priest’s words: ‘Believe in God’s timing.’ Patience, the one thing you struggled with most in a situation like this. But you trusted Bucky. You could feel his strength, his restraint, his understanding of the game they were all playing.

Bucky’s gaze softened, but his words were firm. “To succeed, I have to publicly support Steve, at least for now. In politics, loyalty and trust are everything. We need them on our side.”

As you processed his words, a chilling realization sank in. Steve’s mocking question echoed in your mind: “Are you sure you’re a match for me?” He was right—his plans were meticulous, every move calculated for safety. And Bucky was right too. This was a game of patience, timing, and subtlety.

But the question remained: Who would be powerful enough to finally bring Steve down?

🌸🌸🌸🌸

At the White House, Peggy approached the front entrance, only to be stopped by two Secret Service agents, their expressions impassive.

“I'm here to see my husband,” she said, her voice firm, though a tremor betrayed her unease.

One of the agents cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You don’t have clearance to enter.”

She blinked, the words sinking in like a slap. “Excuse me? This is my husband's residence. I have every right to be here.”

The agent’s face remained unreadable. “I understand, but orders are orders. Mr. Rogers specified… no access.”

Humiliated, Peggy took a step back, heat rising to her cheeks as a cold realization struck her: Steve was truly keeping his word. She was being kept out of his life, and now, out of his home. She turned, bitterness flooding her chest, and started down the steps, fighting to keep her composure.

As she walked toward her car, laughter drifted from the garden. Curiosity sparked, and she moved toward a nearby window, peeking inside. There, in the garden, was Steve, laughing as he played with Nate, while Hazel sat on a bench, watching them, her smile soft and warm.

The scene twisted like a knife in Peggy’s heart. They look like a family.

She clenched her fists, forcing down a surge of fury and grief. In a voice barely more than a whisper, she asked the guard at her side, “How often do they come here?”

“Every weekend, ma’am,” the guard replied softly.

Her voice cracked as she stammered, “D-Do they… stay the night?”

The guard’s silence was enough, but he finally nodded, “Yes.”

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. She stays here? She sleeps in the White House? Peggy had never once been allowed to spend the night here, but Hazel—Hazel could? The injustice stung in a way that words couldn’t capture.

On her drive back, the scenes replayed over and over, thoughts like poison seeping into her mind. She remembered a press conference where Steve had passionately pledged to support local manufacturing, calling out Hazel as a shining example.

“Like one designer, Hazel Barnes,” he had said, the admiration in his voice unmistakable. “She’s the kind of woman who understands her privilege and uses it to lift others up. Her business is 100% local, supporting homegrown talent. If we had more people like her, this country would thrive.”

The memory burned, the admiration in his tone a raw wound. Not once had he praised her. Not when he was in the military, not when he became governor, not when he ran for Senate, and certainly not now, when he was president. Hazel was now his example, his ideal, the woman he chose to highlight.

By the time she finally reached home, it was close to midnight. She entered the house in a daze, weary from her own broken heart. Yet despite the pain, she clung to her duties, driven to exhaustion by a schedule that seemed never-ending. As she set her bag down, her assistant approached her, offering a warm, sympathetic smile.

“The twins had a good day today,” her assistant said softly. “They finished their study sessions and met with the psychiatrist. They’re making great progress."

Peggy’s tired eyes softened at the news. “Thank you. That’s… that’s wonderful.” She gave a slight nod, the smallest glimmer of peace settling in her chest.

Quietly, she made her way to the twins’ room and opened the door to find them still awake, caught in the glow of a handheld game console.

“Hi, Mom,” one of them greeted her, quickly hiding the console behind his back. Both boys looked at her with guilty smiles, expecting a reprimand.

But instead of scolding them, she stepped forward, placing a soft kiss on each of their foreheads before wrapping her arms around them in a rare, tender hug.

“Mom?” they asked, voices laced with concern as they took in her weary expression.

She managed a small, tired smile. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

One of the boys squeezed her hand. “Take a hot bath, Mom. We’ll make you some milk with honey.”

The gesture nearly brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you, boys,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “Thank you so much.”

They left, shooting her worried looks over their shoulders as they went downstairs to prepare her drink. Peggy moved into her room, slipping off her heels and sitting at her vanity, removing her makeup with slow, methodical movements, as though going through the motions might somehow soothe her mind.

A knock came at her door, and she turned to see the twins standing there with a warm mug in hand, faces bright with concern. She mustered a smile, taking the milk from them. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. “It’s delicious.”

The twins lingered, watching her carefully, but after a moment, they seemed reassured. She looked the same as always—tired, maybe a little worn—but still their mother. With quiet “goodnights,” they slipped away to their room, leaving her alone in the silence of her own thoughts.

Peggy finished the drink, placing the empty mug down with trembling hands. She reached into her desk drawer, fingers brushing over an object she hadn’t touched in months. She pulled it out slowly, staring down at it for a long, heavy moment before standing and making her way to the bathroom.

She undressed and stepped into the hot bath, letting the warmth soak her weary body. But as the heat wrapped around her, it couldn’t reach the coldness embedded in her heart. She leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling, her mind swirling with everything she had once hoped for Steve, all the faith she'd placed in him.

He was supposed to be different. She’d thought that becoming president would have brought out wisdom and fairness in him, but instead, he clung to his principles, more ruthless than ever. Memories of the admiration in his voice when he praised Hazel flooded her thoughts, a contrast so sharp it was almost cruel. Steve had never looked at her that way, never spoken her name with that warmth, that pride.

For a moment, her mind drifted to Bucky and you, the loyalty he had shown you, unwavering, year after year. In the past five years, through everything, he had remained faithful, and you had accepted him fully, supporting him in ways Peggy could hardly fathom. She had never known that kind of love with Steve.

She looked down at her wrist, fingers tightening around the object from her desk. Her phone lay beside her, and she typed a short message before putting it aside. She traced the edge of the object against her wrist, whispering, “I’ll set you free.” Her voice was barely audible, fragile against the silence.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

At 2 a.m., Steve was pulled from sleep by the sound of his bedroom door opening. He sat up, irritation flashing in his eyes, ready to reprimand whoever had dared disturb him. But then he saw Natasha standing there, her face pale, eyes wide with urgency.

“Mr. President… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice tight, “but this is very urgent.”

A chill crept through him as her words seemed to hang in the air. He got out of bed and followed her, feeling as though he was moving through a thick fog.

Moments later, Steve found himself staring down at Peggy in the bathtub, her body pale and lifeless, the water around her a deep, dark red. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside her, reaching for her, his arms wrapping around her as if he could somehow bring her back.

“Peggy…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He tightened his hold on her, feeling the unbearable weight of the silence that filled the room.

The twins, William and Charles, stood just outside, tears streaming down their faces, unable to fully grasp the scene before them. They looked at their mother, broken and cold, the life drained from her, and their father, on his knees, clutching her like a lifeline.

Natasha cleared her throat, eyes averted as she whispered, “Mr. President… we should make an announcement.”

Steve’s head snapped up, his eyes sharp and commanding. “Stop.” The firmness in his voice was absolute, leaving no room for argument.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Tell the public that the First Lady has collapsed from exhaustion,” Steve said coldly. “She was tireless, supporting me without a moment’s rest. Now… she’s taking time to recover.”

The twins’ eyes widened, shock and betrayal mingling with their grief.

“Dad?!” William’s voice cracked, staring at his father in disbelief.

“It would be disastrous for this country to know that the First Lady took her own life,” Steve continued, his tone as unyielding as steel. “It would tarnish her memory. She’d be seen as unstable, weak. This is for her legacy, for the image she worked so hard to uphold.”

The twins shook their heads, voices choked with pain. “No. Mother isn’t like that. She’s not some unstable woman.”

Steve knelt beside them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, his voice soft but unyielding. “Boys, trust me. This is for the best. We want people to remember your mother’s dedication, her strength. Not… this.”

He pulled them into an embrace, eyes glistening as he held them close, as if his grip alone could silence their pain. Over their shoulders, his gaze drifted back to Peggy’s lifeless form, his expression unreadable. For a split second, a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips as he thought, Her sacrifice won’t be forgotten.

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