#what do you mean I have to do more than identify the first letter

[v-rg1l]

you’d think working at a library means you’d have the alphabet memorized and know where things go but no it means you get really good at quietly kneeling on aching limbs as you mutter the abcs in whispers like a prayer

[reiding-writing]

Can i get a workshop session? How about spencer with a reader who's actually smarter than him? Maybe she's younger too, thanksss

GENIUS² — SPENCER REID!

working alongside another genius was a blessing, in more ways than one.

early!seasons!spencer x reader | fluff | 1.3k | event masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n— the genius x genius trope is great i love it

Spencer Reid prided himself on being one of the smartest people in the room.

At 24 years old, he was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs under his belt, and an eidetic memory that made him practically a walking encyclopaedia.

His mind moved faster than 99.7% of the world’s population, processing information, analysing patterns, and solving puzzles with ease.

But none of that prepared him for you.

You were younger than him by two years, and while you didn’t have a wall lined with degrees like Spencer, your intelligence was undeniable.

A bachelor’s degree in Theoretical Physics had been enough to earn you a spot in the BAU, something that had surprised even you.

Hotch had seen something in you—your ability to not only understand the unsub’s behavior but to intuitively connect pieces of information in ways most people couldn’t. It was something the team found invaluable.

And it didn’t take long for Spencer to notice.

Where Spencer excelled in academic brilliance, you had a talent for thinking outside the box. You connected dots faster than most people even realized there were dots to connect.

Spencer was used to being the one with all the answers, the one who could solve problems others struggled with, but you? You were different. You weren’t afraid to speak up, even if it meant contradicting his carefully constructed theories. You didn’t care about bruising egos, least of all his, and it fascinated him.

The first time Spencer realised you were special was during a particularly tough case.

The team had been chasing down a serial killer for weeks—a cryptic unsub who left strange, undecipherable messages at each crime scene.

Spencer had spent hours poring over the notes, scrawling down numbers, symbols, and trying to make sense of the pattern, but nothing clicked. His frustration was palpable; his fingers were tapping restlessly on the desk, and his usually sharp mind felt like it was hitting a wall.

An iron wall, covered in spikes and barbed wire.

Then you had walked in. Quietly, unassuming, you hovered over his shoulder for a moment before making a suggestion that cut through his fog of confusion.

“You might be thinking about this too literally,” You said casually, your voice breaking through the silence.

Spencer looked up, frowning slightly, both intrigued and a bit defensive. “What do you mean?”

You slid into the chair next to him, your eyes scanning the pages spread out across his desk. “You’re trying to solve this like a mathematical puzzle, but uh— the letters in the corners of his notes are literally just spelling out ‘library’, so I went to the nearest library and spoke to the librarian on staff, she gave me this,”

You pull out a scrap piece of paper from your pocket and hold it out towards him, a handwritten poem.

Spencer blinked, the pieces clicking together in his mind with almost audible force as he took the poem from you.

You’d identified the connection instantly, something Spencer would have done himself had his mind not been knotted up in frustration. But instead of feeling defeated, he was astonished.

“How did you-?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You shrugged, as if it were obviousLooking at the bigger picture can be really useful sometimes,”

Spencer stared at you for a moment longer, watching as you calmly began jotting down more notes, your mind racing ahead as if you’d never even paused for breath. He realised, in that moment, that you weren’t just another member of the team. You were his equal—possibly even more than that.

From then on, Spencer found himself constantly intrigued by you. The two of you often ended up working side by side, bouncing ideas off each other in a way that was both exciting and intimidating for Spencer.

You were quick, your mind moving in a different way than his, and he found himself almost eager to keep up with your train of thought. You saw things he didn’t, caught details he might have missed, and he wasn’t sure how to handle that. No one had ever made him feel… not inferior, but challenged in such a unique way.

The conversations between you were often odd. Both of you were too intelligent for typical small talk, so you found yourselves discussing obscure facts or debating over scientific theories in the most random of moments.

Spencer would mention something about a 14th-century mathematician, and you would immediately counter with a parallel discovery made in physics centuries later. Neither of you really knew how to navigate personal conversations, so you stuck to what you both understood—facts, theories, and knowledge.

One evening, after a particularly long day spent on another complex case, the bullpen was empty except for the two of you. The team had gone home, but you stayed behind, just like Spencer always did, combing through the evidence again, searching for a missing piece.

You were seated across from him, your brow furrowed in concentration, scribbling notes onto a pad of paper.

Every few minutes, Spencer found himself glancing at you. It wasn’t something he could control—his curiosity about the way your mind worked was something that pulled him in, a constant mystery to unravel.

You were focused, absorbed in your task, and Spencer couldn’t help but admire how quickly you picked up on things. Sometimes, you were faster than him, and that realization both thrilled and unnerved him.

“You’re staring again,” you said, your voice breaking the silence without even looking up.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard, and you did it effortlessly. “I—I wasn’t staring. I was just… thinking.”

You finally looked up, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “What were you thinking about?”

He swallowed, his brain scrambling for an answer that didn’t sound ridiculous. “You’re really good at this,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your smirk softened into something more genuine. “You are too.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren’t his strong suit, and he wasn’t used to receiving them either. “I mean, you’re younger than me, but you’re just as—no, sometimes more—effective than I am. It’s… impressive.”

For the first time since he’d met you, you looked almost shy. “I’ve always looked up to you, you know,” You admitted quietly. “When I first started here, I thought you were kind of untouchable. Like, how could anyone keep up with a guy who knows literally everything?”

Spencer stared at you, speechless. The idea that you—someone he viewed as his intellectual equal, if not superior—had once looked up to him was almost unbelievable. It made him see you in a different light.

“Well,” he said, after a long pause, “I guess we keep each other on our toes.”

You smiled at that, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. It was a strange dynamic—two people too intelligent for normal conversations, yet too awkward to fully acknowledge the unique bond that had formed between you.

But it worked. You pushed each other, kept each other sharp. Whenever Spencer stumbled over an obscure reference, you were there to catch it. When you went too far into the realm of abstract thinking, Spencer reeled you back in with hard logic.

You were a perfect balance—an unstoppable team, even if neither of you would say it outright. And in a world where people rarely understood either of you, you had found something important in each other, an unlikely equal.

[judaismandsuch]

An Open Letter to Dropout

@dropoutdottv I am disappointed in you.

I know that this will not change your policy, nor will you make a folloe up statement, as proportion wise the number of people you have lost from your last post, vs. the number of people you will lose should you make an apology and walk back the statement are not in any way the comparable.

But you have failed your Jewish audience.

A group of your viewers accused an openly and actively Jewish guest on one of your shows of being Zionist. Despite him not making any statements since the few days after October 7th.

So you made a statement, saying that no one you have had on identifies themselves as such. And that even if anyone did you would give them the room to grow, and learn, and repent from such a horrific view.

That you condemn the genocide. Which hasn't been found to be a genocide by the international court. Which has a death toll of combatants-to-civilians far less than even just the bombing of Dresden of WWII. An event can be horrific without being genocide. But calling it 'monstrous' or 'horrific' wouldn't have placated people.

Though I noticed that you haven't spoken about the genocide (or at least, wide spread persecution and inhumane treatment) of Uyghurs in China. But that may lead to you becoming completely banned in China. Which could impact your bottom line.

You will give more money to PCRF, and you encourage people to donate to UNRWA.

What is wrong with you?

What is it, that an accusation of 'Zionist', which can mean anything from "Israel exists now, and it no longer existing is bad" to the Kahanist definition, requires an immediate response and excuse?

You continue to recommend supporting UNRWA, despite documented proof that UNRWA members took part in October 7th.

In your first milque-toast response to your Discord's meltdown on the subject you supported JVP, and mentioned that there are several equally horrific events going on around the world.

But you haven't supported any of the other causes.

Several of them are far worse than what is happening in Gaza, but you haven't raised a cent for them.

You continue to tacitly support JVP, despite any affiliated Jew saying that they are clearly not Jewish. There practices show that they don't understand Judaism, and their founders and board of directors is mainly non-Jews. They have a page on ADL describing all the Antisemitic acts that they have done. But you still keep a pinned post in support of them.

Why aren't you fundraising for WCK? They do good work in Gaza, and unlike the rest of the groups you platformed, they haven't had a single accusation of association with Hamas.

But, you treat a baseless call of 'Zionist' as if it were a nearly credible call of 'Nazi'.

You make a post on this, the day before the American Election, but haven't even done a single 'go out to vote' post?

What is wrong with you?

Are you afraid that because @samreich is Jewish, if you don't get in front of demands that all obvious Jews you have on demonstrate their alliance with 'the cause', people will start to ask if Sam Reich is 'one of the good ones'?

To be clear, this isn't antisemitism.

This is performing for an audience that doesn't realise that a witch hunt for Jews, demanding that the Jews show that they are 'good jews' is in fact antisemitism.

This is focusing on one conflict to the exclusion of all others. Perhaps Myanmar and Sudan just aren't that important. Afterall, no one is talking about them.

Feeling the need to address baseless accusations thrown on obvious Jews that haven't performed well enough.

You have sent your message.

I am unwelcome.

I hope it was worth it

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Interesting facts about how Gringotts vaults work...

How you access Gringotts vaults is interesting, and felt oddly inconsistent to me throughout the books, so I want to take a look at it. As in, all the times Gringotts vaults are accessed and how they are accessed. Becouse a lot of fanon and Weasley bashing fics put a lot of emphasis on vault keys, but I don't think vault keys are that important, especially not with the older vaults.

In the books, we only see vault keys in Philosopher's Stone and after that they are shockingly absent.

“Morning,” said Hagrid to a free goblin. “We’ve come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter’s safe.” “You have his key, sir?” “Got it here somewhere,” said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter... [...] “Got it,” said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key. The goblin looked at it closely. “That seems to be in order.” “An’ I’ve also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore,” said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. “It’s about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen.” The goblin read the letter carefully. “Very well,” he said, handing it back to Hagrid, “I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!”

(PS, Ch5)

Our first encounter with Gringotts is in PS, even this early we see two means of identifying yourself as someone who should have access to a vault:

Vault key - for Harry's trust vault from his parents

A letter from the vault owner.

This suggests that the key, rather than the only means of opening the vault, works as an identification method to show the owner gave the key to access the vault to whoever is trying to access it or is accessing it themselves. I will note it's odd the goblin doesn't identify Hagrid or Harry as who they are since a key could hypothetically be easily stolen.

It's why the letter seems to make more sense. It's a letter of temporary power of attorney signed by Dumbledore that gives Hagrid the right to access a vault in his possession. This is actually something that makes way more sense than the key, which I'll come back to later.

But the point of it all, is that Gringotts cares more about identifying who the person is and that they're allowed to access a vault than if they have a key. The key seems to be just one tool to do so.

The vaults were reached by means of small, goblin-driven carts that sped along miniature train tracks through the bank’s underground tunnels. Harry enjoyed the breakneck journey down to the Weasleys’ vault, but felt dreadful, far worse than he had in Knockturn Alley, when it was opened. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon. Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. Harry felt even worse when they reached his vault. He tried to block the contents from view as he hastily shoved handfuls of coins into a leather bag

(CoS, Ch4)

In CoS, we don't see anyone bringing up a key, and it's likely they just identified themselves in the bank by other means. As I mentioned, what matters is a person's identity, not the key.

At the beginning of PoA we see further evidence of how the key isn't really that important:

Once Harry had refilled his money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, he had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. 

(PoA, Ch4)

As Harry's able to access his vault without it.

And Harry seems to be aware he doesn't actually need a key to access his vault, since he plans to do so when on the Knight Bus:

The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off — where, he didn’t know.

(PoA, Ch3)

So the fact a key isn't really needed for vault access at Gringotts is common knowledge in-universe.

But the most interesting implications regarding vault access, come from the ending of PoA:

There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt — [...] Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays’ worth of presents from your godfather.

(PoA, Ch22)

This is from the letter Sirius sends Harry at the end of the book and the implications are fascinating to me. I stumbled upon this quote when looking for something else and decided to draft up this post just because of it.

Like, Sirius sent a letter to Gringotts with Crookshanks, identifying himself as Harry (did he forge Harry's signature? Did he do something else? Do they have magical signatures?) to access his own vault. This has so many implications.

Again we see what Gringotts cares for is the identity of the person asking to access the vault, not any magical vault key.

Either the signature Gringotts has for Harry is incorrect or Sirius leaned to forge Harry's signature. both options could be hilarious for fic purposes.

Harry, at the age of 13, can access his own vault and Sirius' vault with just his identity.

That last one implies two things:

There is no minimum age for Gringotts vaults access or, if there is, it's something low, like 11 or 12. This means wizarding children are essentially treated as adults when it comes to banking since Harry had to exercise self-control over his own money at the beginning of PoA and there were no vault rules or laws that would limit his access to it.

Sirius made Harry his heir before he was sent to Azkaban. It was always my headcanon, but this is evidence of it. I mean, if Harry wasn't Sirius' heir there would be no reason for Sirius to be able to use Harry's identity to access his own vault legally.

Now, I know Weasley-bashing fics love to use the fact Molly buys Harry stuff with money from his own vault as evidence of theft:

“Look, here’s the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. And she’s got some gold out of your vault for you . . . and she’s washed all your socks.”

(GoF, Ch10)

But that doesn't seem to be the case. Harry isn't surprised she did it, and Molly told Harry she would be buying him things the day before. It's possible he even gave her a letter to let her access his vault himself. If Harry wasn't aware of it happening, I think he would have mentioned it's odd. Harry's pretty perceptive and not stupid, so I think it's likely he had given his permission to that since he knew of the plan ahead of Molly going to Diagon whenever it happened.

(Mostly I think JKR didn't feel like writing everyone shopping in Diagon Alley again every book so it was an excuse to have it happen off-page)

The final occasion of vault access I want to examine is with the Lestrange Vault in Deathly Hallows:

“Madam Lestrange!” said the goblin, evidently startled. “Dear me! How-how may I help you today?” “I wish to enter my vault,” said Hermione. The old goblin seemed to recoil a little. Harry glanced around. Not only was Travers hanging back, watching, but several other goblins had looked up from their work to stare at Hermione. “You have . . . identification?” asked the goblin. “Identification? I-I have never been asked for identification before!” said Hermione. “They know!” whispered Griphook in Harry’s ear, “They must have been warned there might be an imposter!” “Your wand will do, madam,” said the goblin. [...] “Make him press his hand to the door!” Griphook urged Harry, who turned his wand again upon Bogrod. The old goblin obeyed, pressing his palm to the wood, and the door of the vault melted away to reveal a cavelike opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures

(DH, Ch26)

Again, what Hermione is asked for is identification, not a key. From Griphook's reaction, it seems asking for identification is usually not necessary. I assume, usually Gringotts goblins have another way of knowing who stands before them, it would explain why the characters are never really asked for a key after book 1 — the goblins just recognized Harry and let him enter. (I'd get to why they didn't in PS later)

Also from the above quote, we see that a Gringotts goblin can just magically open even the oldest, most high-security vaults, making the vault key from the first book completely moot. We also don't really see keys used since then in, well, any of the books. We do see Harry mention it in DH:

“I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he’d have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world....”

(DH, Ch24)

But no one seems to be using them.

I think having a key to a vault means you have the physical key, yes, but it's more symbolic than something you have to have with you to open your vault. It's like a token that says you have vault number 687, not that it's the only means of accessing the vault since clearly, your identity is enough.

So, the question is, since vault keys or wand IDs aren't the usual means to identify oneself, how do goblins know? How do you usually identify yourself? How do they know who can access which vault just by looking at them? And why was the key asked for in PS?

Well, I have a bit of a theory/headcanon/speculation about this based on the evidence I mentioned above:

A Gringotts key is essentially a signifier for the ownership of a vault (goblin ownership, the vault is borrowed by wizards, and whenever vaults switch hands wizards likely have to pay for them again).

In book 1, the key was needed since Harry has never stepped foot in Gringotts before. The key acted as an identification for Harry who didn't have a wand yet and who the goblins just met for the first time.

After Harry was identified once, the goblins just recognized him. As they do everyone else. (Since a letter from Dumbledore saying Hagrid can access his vault is enough, they didn't ask Hagrid for any identification (not that he has a wand he can give them)).

I believe goblins just have a brilliant memory for faces and once someone enters the bank once, they are remembered from then on. (I also assume you need to sign something so they have a handwriting sample to identify your writing by. Which they also have a great memory of).

I think goblins are just magically really good at remembering details. It fits what we see about goblin-made artifacts which are very detailed and ornate. How goblins just remember who owes what and who took what. So, I think the identification method at Gringotts is goblins' really good memory.

That's why The Thief's Downfall is important. It removes enchantments that change someone's appearance which is how goblins identify people.

All this means Sirius learned how to forge Harry's handwriting to buy him a Firebolt, which is a fun concept. (Where are all the fics of Sirius being brilliant at forgery?)

This is a bit of a random tangent, but I found it interesting.

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

Crack fic where Maedhros and Maglor have no concept of half elven ages

__

"We can't take them back with us," Maedhros said.

"They're just children though, they won't survive on their own!"

"That's exactly the point!"

"What do you mean? I know children won't be much use in the fortress, but we can feed two spare mouths."

"They're far too young for us to be able to care for them."

"Come on, they look like they're at least twenty. I'm sure they know calculus and how to spin by now, even if they're not yet tall and strong enough for more."

"You haven't been keeping track of diplomatic news, or indeed of time at all. We sacked Doriath not three decades ago, and Elwing their mother was an infant then."

"Humans grow fast." Maglor shrugged. "She obviously grew enough to have children, and within a year or two."

"Gil-Galad mentioned that Elwing gave birth to twin boys in a letter only six years ago. And before you ask, I'm sure she didn't also have older children, these were very clearly the first heirs for the Iathrim."

"What? But - they're so tall!"

"Like you say, men grow fast. They grow unevenly though, without enough time to learn everything properly. Those boys may not even know their letters, or how to identify pewter from lead."

"At six years old, what do they even eat? Celebrimbor nursed until he was nearly eight!"

"They might be old enough to survive weaning, but I'm not sure, and we have no one breastfeeding in our camp at the moment, without anyone born since the Nirnaeth."

"I've heard of using cow's milk or sheep's milk to feed babies, rather than just making cheese. Do you think they'd tolerate it?"

"Maybe, but we can't be sure. It's better to leave them here with all the other people who's homes we destroyed; there were enough babies wailing during the battle someone can surely take in the princes."

"Perhaps, if anyone finds them in the next day. Most people fled the city, and I doubt they'll return before the fires die down."

"I'm not going to take in infants just to let them starve."

"Me neither! But I can ask them if they're weaned. They understand Sindarin, and talk, at least enough to call for their mother."

"A child that young will just say they eat nothing but honey and cake, if you let them choose their diet."

"If they know they like cake, that means they can eat solids, and I'll give them normal food."

"Fine. You can ask them, and if they're weaned they'll survive as well with us as any where else."

"And if they're not?"

"I send a couple scouts to follow the sounds of screaming children and deliver two more."

"Maedhros!"

"What? I can't bring their mother back, nor can my most imperious command make someone lactate."

"So you're giving up?"

"No, I already told you my plan." Maedhros sighed. "And I will send a few people to look for goats or ewes we can take with us. We already sacked the city; might as well loot it."

"You're convinced to make everything the most horrible possible."

"Excuse me for being pessimistic when our brothers just died for nothing."

"Fine, I'm going."

"Good."

[cher-rei]

love song ♬— chapter 4 [ J.M ]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!oc

summary [please read]

genre(s): strangers to lovers, fluff, angst and football romance [love song playlist]

[w.c: 4.3k] masterlist

notes: this is the one!! ya'll thought I was joking about the 5k word count 😔

previous chapter | next chapter

the three friends stepped off the train in herzogenaurach, the city bustling with excitement and laughter. with their luggage in hand, they caught their uber and successfully made it to their b&b that they rented our for the remainder of the tournament.

obviously because it was where the team's training camp was located, and it would mean less hassle and back and forth travel from munich.

the uber turned into a quaint street lined with traditional bavarian townhouses, each boasting colourful flower boxes and rustic facades. a wooden sign creeked in the gentle breeze, bearing the b&b’s name in gold, bold letters.

“welcome ladies.” the sight of a middle aged man greeted them at the front door, his smile inviting as he held the villa's key in his hands. “she's yours for the next few weeks. don't be scared to call me if anything is needed.”

with a grateful smile, aaliyah let the keys fall into her palms and waved off the property owner while sophia and noelle got the rest of their luggage.

as they entered the, the cozy living room enveloped them in warmth. plush sofa's, rustic wooden furniture, and rich, dark wood floors created an inviting atmosphere. vintage memorabilia adorned the walls, alongside german team jerseys and photographs.

they led to each of their bedrooms— sophia's boasted vibrant red and black bedding and a more rustic look while aaliyah's room featured sleek, modern decor. noelle's room was cozy, with a comfortable reading nook.

the kitchen beckoned, filled with with aroma of freshly brewed coffee which was more than enough to make noelle's senses perk up.

“you know,” she turned to look at her friend's with an innocent smile. “I think we should have some coffee, to match the atmosphere and stuff.”

before she could successfully open one of the cabinets, aaliyah interjected and pulled her to the side and gestured to the fridge. “we have orange juice, don't talk crap.”

noelle's shoulders dropped in disappointment. “but it's not the same,” she whined but her friends weren't giving into her plea.

“yeah, it won't lead to kidney failure,” sophia said with a smile and passed her the glass of orange juice, the look of distaste on noelle’s face comical. “drink it so we can unpack.”

the following two days spent in the city went about quickly, with lots of time out to explore and just enjoy their time together. noelle even got some time to start on her thesis, or at least figure out where she was intending to go with it. on different occasions she would call sophia and aaliyah aside separately for some questioning, trying to get as raw of a response that she could.

sophia's interview [log 1]

n: how do you handle the pressure of being in the public eye?

s: honestly, it's tough. but kai keeps me grounded, funny enough. he's really supportive and puts my comfortability first, which I really appreciate.

n: how do you maintain intimacy and the relationship's strength with different schedules?

s: (laughs) we make time, even if it's just a video call like we've been doing recently. trust is key.

n: okay, yoda. what's the most challenging part of dating a high profile athlete?

s: balancing my own identify with being “kai havetz's girlfriend”. well, fiance now. but he's sweet, and encourages me to pursue my passions, even if it isn't the most ideal. we work around it.

n: aw, that's so sweet... move back to munich for me.

s: (laughs) no. nice try though, maybe it'll actually work next time.

n: shut up.

aaliyah's interview [log 2]

n: uhh, let's see. ah, how do you cope with flo's intense training regiments?

a: communication is key, sweetheart. we prioritise our time together and as long as there is understanding and trust, we’re good.

n: ew, sophia said the same thing.

a: because it's true you idiot. you're just a baby, you'll understand one day.

n: what's the most surprising aspect of dating a professional athlete?

a: the emotional highs and lows. you're going to experience that first hand this time around since you're with us. their passion for football is infectious but losses can be tough, which means that they rely on us for emotional support and reassurance. it's a lot of responsibility but it's worth it.

n: that's a lot of words. I think I deserve some coffee.

a: you wanted raw and honest? I gave you raw and honest. but touch that espresso machine and i will light it on fire in front of you.

n: ughhhhhh!

she slept, ate and drank thesis for the next few days. and that even meant when they went out. it was a day before germany and hungary's match in stuttgart that sophia proposed that they took a trip to the training camp. were they allowed to? not in the slightest.

there was a strict no family policy implemented to keep the teams’ players focused and isolated. which noelle found sort of dumb.

the three friends entered the camp with sophia leading the way as if she owned the place, greeting the staff members that passed by and whatnot, while aaliyah and noelle walked behind with their arms linked.

“this feels illegal,” noelle said, her eyes scanning the sleek and modern interior of the building before they headed onto the training pitch.

aaliyah smiled. “that's because it is.”

noelle couldn't help but shake her head, a quizzical look on her face as she looked up at aaliyah with so many questions plauging her mind. “how do you not have a criminal record yet?”

from in front of them sophia threw her head back in laughter, taking a step back go high five noelle with a satisfied smile. aaliyah didn't see the comment as an insult however and shrugged her shoulders. “I have connections and a very pretty face.”

the path that led them to the training pitch was unnecessarily lengthy, the accommodation in general was absolutely huge. the building felt like it was swallowing noelle whole.

the football pitch was located on the further side of a smaller pitch with fake grass, a running track circling the field with the bleachers on the far right just opposite the building.

the three girls happily took their seats on the last level of the bleachers, nothing but a barricade separating them and the footballers going through their drills. turns out that aaliyah did have connections, meaning that even though family weren't allowed to visit unless given the permission at allocated times, the girls were.

it didn't take much for kai and florian to spot their girlfriend's, and by the looks in their eyes they were ready to drop everything and make a run for it. jamal on the other hand tripped over his own feet at the sight of noelle but he managed to catch himself without making it too obvious.

“are you okay?” toni asked the younger boy, who sheepishly waved his captain off and cleared his throat from the minor embarrassment.

for the rest of the first session, jamal couldn't help but turn to the bleachers every so often, his gaze unintentionally landing on noelle who was sat with her ipad on her lap, scribbling something down. he came to the conclusion that she was working on her thesis, listening intently as her friends spoke.

her laughter sounded through the air at some point, followed by sophia slapping her on the arm and yelling something through her own laughter.

“you look like a lovestruck deer.” the retort came from none other than kai himself, which promoted jamal to take a step back and hit him with the most judgement look he could muster.

“are you telling me that?” he scoffed. “kai ‘my girlfriend breathes and I want to die in her arms’ havertz?”

kai threw his hands up in defence. “wow, thanks for that. remind me to just shut up next time.”

jamal playfully smiled at his sarcastic comment, gratefully taking it. “with pleasure.”

“jamal and kai you're acting like we're not playing an international tournament!” their coach yelled after blowing the whistle to gain their attention, the two footballers immediately halting their argument. “wouldn't you like to hold a trophy this season havertz? might just be the first and last!”

while the players all erupted into a fit of laughter, the three girls on the bleachers were in their own bubble of conversation.

“seriously, how traumatised do you have to be to start yelling, ‘run up, run up. cross the ball, I'm open!’”

noelle and sophia covered their mouths in an attempt to contain their laughter at aaliyah's story. she shook her head and continued complaining, sophia giving her own input in between while noelle took notes on her tablet.

she was silently absorbing all the words exchanged between her friends, perhaps looking up at the pitch to see jamal laughing or jumping in excitement about scoring. unbeknownst to her, there was a faint smile on her lips even if it didn't feel like it.

“are you seriously just going to sit there?” sophia asked with a chuckle, watching as noelle took a sip from her water bottle. yes water.

she closed the plastic bottle with a smile, gesturing for them to continue. “yes, now carry on talking. you're doing great.”

aaliyah's brows furrowed. “I was literally talking about how irritating flo is when he sleeps talks.”

“exactly,” noelle deadpanned and got comfortable in her seat, ready to listen to more complaining but unfortunately the whistle sounded which meant that it was time for a water break.

sophia and aaliyah were out of their seat at lightning speed, practically hopping over the barricade to get onto the pitch where florian and kai were getting water. she shook her head in slight disapproval, a sigh escaping her lips as she focused on the two couples and their interaction.

their dynamics were so different, and it was something that noelle was heavily taking into account for her thesis, and simply out of genuine interest. kai and sophia were softer— their love and affection for each other was so evident that you wouldn't be able to see them without each other, it simply didn't make sense.

and florian and aaliyah were a lot more playful, with aaliyah wearing the pants in the relationship. they shared light banter, silent glances and gentle gestures while also maintaining a strong sense of friendship. it was cute.

noelle didn't even realise that she zoned out until jamal called her name. the footballer walked up to the barricade, “hey stranger.” his arms relaxed on the top with a gentle smile on his face. “what brings you to this side of the world?”

a chuckle left her lips at the playfulness in his voice and she hummed in thought for a moment. “my friends’ borderline obessesion and codependence,” she said half joking and jamal laughed. “and what brings you to this side of the pitch?”

a glint of something flickered in his eyes at the question, something that noelle managed to catch before he answered. “a very pretty psych student.”

now, just because noelle had never been in a relationship before did not mean that she was oblivious. she's had her fair share of encounters to know when someone was flirting with her, it's just that this was the only time where she didn't have the alarm going off in her head telling her to awkwardly laugh and change the subject.

for some reason she was more thrilled and keen on entertaining it, even if it was just a joke (she wasn't sure).

“oh, really?” she questioned with mock intrigue. “where is she?” she straightened her posture and looked around the field to which he laughed.

his laughter sent a warm shiver down her spine, she couldn't help but enjoy his playful demeanour. she watched with her lips pursed as he took his phone out of his pocket and turned the screen in her direction to see the front camera open.

yep. she was on the verge of throwing up and overheating.

“she's right there,” he said with a proud smile and she nodded along with flushed cheeks but she held onto her playful facade.

“oh, wow. and what makes her so special exactly?”

jamal's grin widened. “well she's super smart, has this insane coffee addiction, and she can quote fifa regulations verbatim.”

noelle chuckled at his answer, almost losing herself at the last point. he wasn't even trying but she was quite aware that what she felt in that moment was the equivalent of downing four shots of espresso. “that's quite the combination. was that combo the reason you tripped earlier on?”

jamal's laughter echoed through the air, his eyes crinkling at the corners while slight embarrassment welled up inside him. “maybe it was the combination, maybe it was something else entirely.”

she stifled a laugh and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears that were on fire. “well whatever reason, I'm glad that you're okay.” her tone was gentle and genuine, enough for him to lean in a little closer, his fingers absentmindedly tapping along the barricade.

“I think that it was fate’s way of getting my attention,” he prompted and noelle's lips parted, her eyes playfully rolling. “and now that I have it, I think I should conduct a study of my own.”

he was freakishly good at this. every word that left his mouth made her question herself. “oh, really? I'm listening.”

he looked up at the sky for a moment. “the psychology of the perfect distraction.”

her cheeks burned, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his. not when this was a thrill that she wasn't about to give up. “and how do you want to go about that? any references in mind?”

he nodded eagerly, proud smile on his face to know that he wasn't shooting himself in the foot with whatever the hell he was doing right now. it wasn't even planned. he just wanted to say hi. not profess his undying love!

“there's this coffee-addicted, fifa-regulation-quoting-genuis that is exactly what I'm looking for.”

“and what makes you think this genuis would be interested in your research?”

for the first time in however long this conversation was going on for, jamal felt his smile falter before he managed to recover it. “well, I'm willing to take the risk. and besides,” he shrugged. “I think she's already interested.”

naturally she asked what made him think that. because she wanted to know what her behaviour looked like from his perspective, granted that he was talking about her right now. if not, then she was screwed and was about to live with a life time of embarrassment and another reason to not leave her house.

a sigh left jamal's lips, one that seemed more dazed than exhausted. “the way that she smiles when I talk about fifa regulations.”

she couldn't hold it in anymore, her laughter practically burst from her chest in relief to the point where she was doubled over and clutching her stomach. she tried to calm herself down but whenever she took a breath to look at jamal she found herself laughing again, leaving him there to hold back his own to admire her.

she sit up and fanned her already burning face, taking a moment to wipe the tears that managed to escape. “I think you're already an expert in distraction.”

he raised his hands in defence. “guilty as charged.”

unfortunately their banter was disturbed. “musiala, water break is over!”

with a sigh he turned to noelle and shot her one last smile. “duty calls, but I'll see you tomorrow?”

she nodded slowly, but bit her tongue for a moment, rethinking her original answer. “I think I can arrange that research meeting by the way, at a price of course.”

his intrigue that died down seconds ago was back and jamal found himself looking at her like a lost puppy. “oh?”

her lips parted to say something but was drowned out by someone calling his name again which he dismissed immediately. “leroy, can you shut up for a minute please! I'm right here!” he turned back to noelle. “I'm listening.”

“I need a goal from you tomorrow, just for fun,” she stated with a shrug and he hummed in response, more than happy with the request.

“deal,” he said almost instantly but noelle felt like carrying on her teasing, eager to test his limits.

she held out her hand, watching as his confused gaze travelled to it. nonetheless, he leant his arm over the barricade, enough that she was able to get hold of his hand to which she gently held his wrist and lightly tapped the inside of it thrice.

“what?” he looked up at her.

“I just cursed you,” she said through a smile, his expression dropping instantly. when she was done with her joke she went on to explain to him that it was a simple gesture to lock a promise.

it was something stupid she made up a when she was younger, and often did with carmen before she became the epitome of her worst nightmare.

as he jogged back onto the field, the post convention clarity hit noelle like a truck. immediate regret bubbled in her stomach but she couldn't even dwell ob her stupidy long enough before sophia and aaliyah were at her sides, nagging on her head about the encounter.

they weren't satisfied with a simple, “we just talked.”

aaliyah shook her head, calling out her bluff and blatant lie. “you didn't see what we saw! you were smiling like crazy, shut up, noelle you even giggled!”

“ew, as if!”

when they got back home, noelle was the first to head to her room saying that she was exhausted. and naturally the girls decided to not press the situation and let her be, making sure to call her down for supper and then she was back in her room.

noelle sank into the bed, surrounded be the quaint floral patterns and photographs in the room. the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast eerie shadows on the walls, mirroring her inner turmoil.

as she lay there, the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant hum of crickets and the occasional creek of the old wooden floorboards. sophia and aaliyah's excited whispers still lingered in her mind, but now they were replaced by her own taunting doubts.

her thoughts swirled like a maelstrom, threatening to pull her under. she knew herself, she knew her fears like the back of her hand. she knew all too well that intimacy was something that she preferred to steer clear from, there was nothing worth being vulnerable and losing someone. she's seen it first hand with her parents.

noelle was young but she wasn't stupid, and seeing her father leave the house in the middle of the night only to return hours later without explanation was enough of a tell tale. she was 8 when she picked up her father's phone for the first time, the distant rising annoying her as she proceeded to colour in, in the living room.

it was silent, she didn't want to say anything yet because she wasn't sure who was calling. until the unfamiliar female voice echoed through the speaker. “adrian, sweetheart are you there?”

from that day onward, noelle was unable to look at her father the same. she had to witness her mother suffer through the deceit and self doubt, the crying and the anger filled words. she was there.

the darkness outside seemed to seep into her room, shrouding her in an unsettling uncertainty. noelle's heart raced, her palms growing slick with sweat.

intimacy terrified her. the thought of vulnerability, of exposing herself, made her want to retreat into the comfort of her solitude.

but jamal's playful words lingered, and his smile was etched into her mind. he didn't what he was getting himself into, and that guilt settled into her stomach. he was trying, he was genuine and she was a coward.

noelle's eyelids grew heavy, but her mind refused to quiet. fear and self doubt wrestled with the fragile spark of hope.

they weren't doing much the following day besides getting on the train to stuttgart early that morning for the match. it gave noelle time to sleep seeing as she was up the entire night. sophia and aaliyah carried on as per normal, aaliyah holding on extra tight to noelle at her side.

as the train rumbled towards frankfurt, noelle's exhaustion weighed her down like an anchor. her eyes felt gritty, her mind foggy from the sleepless night.

when she woke up, aaliyah noticed her friend's subdued demeanour and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “hey, you okay?”

noelle forced a smile. “yeah, just tired.” but aaliyah's knowing glance suggested that she could see past her facade.

the train’s din and the girls chatter receded into the background as noelle leant her head on the window, her gaze drifting through the german countryside that was being overshadowed by darker clouds.

every so often her heart would skip a beat at the thought of the footballer. she just couldn't shake off the feeling that she was sabotaging something before it even began. but this isn't what she needed at the moment, instead she needed to shake off all that negativity and enjoy the evening.

when the train stopped she took one last final breath and prepared herself for whatever the evening threw at her, because at least she wasn't alone.

to no ones surprise, aaliyah sensed her tension and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “babe, relax. it's just a match,” she whispered as they took their seats, the roar of the crowd drowning out her thoughts.

but it was more than just a match. for noelle, this was a direct confrontation with her own fears, her own doubts. and he was standing there on the pitch underneath the stadium lights, taking his teammates hands before getting into position.

noelle's gaze involuntarily drifted drifted to jamal, his confident stride and assured smile making her heart stutter. the flutter in her chest was undeniable, and she hated herself for it.

aaliyah's grip on her shoulder tightened, a gentle reminder that she was going to be okay. sophia, oblivious to the inner turmoil, chattered and took pictures of the stadium.

as the game commenced, her attention wavered between the action in the pitch and jamal's dynamic movements. every time he touched the ball, her pace quickened. his sudden sprint down the wing, ball at his feet brought noelle back to reality.

her brows furrowed as she scowered the pitch. “the weather is actually clearing up,” she got hums of confirmation at the question and cuddled futher into aaliyah's side, the crisp air hitting noelle's bare face, the sun starting to peak through the canopy of clouds.

nothing much had happened, but the stadium's atmosphere was intense yet inviting. the supporters were singing and cheering, their attitude and excitement giving the players the much needed energy.

as the 22nd minute ticked by, jamal's sudden sprint down the wing brought noelle to the edge of her seat. she wondered if he remember what they talked about the day before— if it was even the slightest bit significant to him.

her brows furrowed, her eyes scoured the pitch as the supporters waited in anticipation. then in a flash of brilliance, he struck the ball— and it curled into the top corner of the net, a work of art.

noelle's world exploded in a riot of colour and sound, her friends’ screams of excitement deafening her more than the others. naturally, she leapt to her feet her voice lost in the cacophony of cheers.

aaliyah's arms enveloped her, holding her steady as the stadium swirled around them. for a fleeting moment, jamal's gaze locked onto hers, a spark that left her breathless. he remembered.

“noelle, did you see that?” sophia screamed, her voice piercing but noelle’s attention remained on jamal, his triumphant smile illuminating the pitch.

and then in a subtle gesture, he tapped his wrist thrice, eyes locking onto hers. noelle's breath caught. it was a joke, asking him to score was a joke. but the fact that he remembered was what had her breathless.

when the game was over, the final whistle blew at 2-0 to germany. a successful win that blurred noelle's doubts and turmoil for a moment, a reminder to focus on the little things and let go for a bit.

they found themselves on the pitch again under the summer heat, congratulating the team and taking the necessary pictures. it was good until jamal came up to her, his hand out for a fist bump that she was more than happy to accept as a token of gratitude.

their “research task” was brought up obviously, and it was going to take place at the cinema, seeing as spiderman: across the spiderman released a week ago back at the cinema in herzogenaurach.

but before they could exchange another word, aaliyah burst in. "spiderman across the spiderverse? that's a great idea, jamal!"

sophia chimed in, “that sounds like a fun group outing.”

jamal's gaze drifted from noelle to the growing group, his smile forced. noelle's heart sank, sensing jamal's dismay. was he that keen on having a few with her alone? the joke was implied, but once again she was left confused.

aaliyah, oblivious to the tension, continued planning. she had already talked to florian about booking the vip cinema, naturally to avoid interruption from the public and media.

jamal's eyes met noelle's, searching for clarification. her apologetic shrug barely eased his slight disappointment and waned excitement, leaving him wondering if he'd misread the signals. the spiderman marathon, once a covert date, now felt like a group outing.

“this research task just got a lot more…” he sighed, his attention on his friends who were excitedly planning the outing, noelle laughing along with them. “...inclusive.”

“all I remember is the handshake,” florian said with his brows furrowed, and noelle immediately burst into laughter at his mistake at referencing the wrong movie.

he looked at her with a look of disgust and aaliyah gently pat his back. “wrong movie, babe.”

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[leebrontide]

A legit way to fight the climate crisis from where you're sitting right now

As promised, in honor of Earth Day, I've written some suggestions for how you can write a letter to the editor for your local paper, and reach some people who otherwise might get a more...shall we say restricted view of climate news. Letters to the Editor remain a surprisingly important political vehicle. People see letters to the editor and they feel like they're hearing from their neighbors- real people with authentic, down-to-earth agendas. They're the second most read part of the paper, after the front page. Take that stage!

Step 1- Pick an article in your local paper to respond to. Today is Earth day, and lots of papers will have at least something about climate crisis or environmental protection on it's pages. Local papers are better, because, as you can imagine, papers like The New Yorker get a lot more submissions to compete against, and anyways they don't have the same sense of local opinion.

Don't fret if your local paper leans conservative! That means it has readers we REALLY need to reach! And they may be more open to reading about these issues in a paper than online, which particularly a lot of older, don't feel like "the real world".

Step 2- Figure out what you're going to say! Maybe there's a glaring error in the article you want to address. BUT, if you're not sure, you can look up your local organization that's fighting for these goals. For example, I could look up and find MN350, because I'm in Minnesota. Going to their social media and their webpage/newsletter archive gives me an inside look at what people who are really immersed in these subjects have to say about what's going on.

So, for example, I see that my local group applauds Minneapolis's efforts at going to all clean energy, and has a timeline, but that people on the inside are saying that without a dedicated funding stream, people implementing these changes will have to either hope federal funding stays stable or fight for funding in the city council every year. Ok, now when there's an article about Minneapolis's plans, I have something to say.

Step 3- Draft it up.

The goal here is to be short and to the point.

Opening line: Identify which article you're responding to, and maybe your feeling about it.

First paragraph: What is the specific issue? What is a relevant fact and why does it  warrant public concern?

Second paragraph: What would you say that we do in response, or what would you ask your neighbors to do?  Why?

Third paragraph: What is currently being done to address the issue and how could people who have been persuaded act?

This should be no more than 150 to 250 words TOTAL.

While you're wording it, some things to keep in mind- stats and facts are good, but don't use a lot of acronyms or jargon. Expect your readers to be coming at this with about an 8th grade education.

If you have a sense of what the people you're talking to find persuasive, lean into that. For example, for my letter to the editor, I emphasized that chaotic funding leads to lack of ability to plan ahead or bulk-buy. I know the people I'm talking to like things to be common-sense and detest governmental waste, so that's an easy one.

If you want extra help, I have a list of best practices for communicating about the climate crisis right here.

Step 4- Proofread, then submit it via whatever process your local paper has. The goal, if you can manage is, is to submit something within 48 hours of the original article's publication. That's the sweet spot for most papers.

BONUS ROUND!

You did that, and still have a little energy for the environment left? There's one more thing you can do to super-charge your effort!

Guess what, you can stack the deck in favor of your specific letter being published.

But it will involve using a phone.

That's right, if you REALLY wanna turbo boost this thing, you're gonna call the paper (or have your non-phone-adverse-friend or family member pretend to be you and call the paper).

Call as soon as possible after the editor would have received the material.

Use pleasant persistence to speak with the right person. Don’t stop at a receptionist or secretary. Create enough POLITE urgency about your letter that you get through to the specific reporter or editor who will decide whether or not to print your piece.

Provide the editor with specific local info and urgency. Focus your conversation on why this issue is relevant to their readers.

Get specific feedback and/or a specific commitment from the reporter. If they don’t want to print the letter, find out why and what adjustments you can make to get it printed.

If they agree to print it, find out when you can expect to see it in the paper. The you can tell other people. Even if memaw isn't a big climate activist, she might show your letter to everybody she knows if she knows you wrote it.

And that's the process! I know that's a lot of information to throw at you, but ultimately, it can be pretty quick to crank these things out. And, again, these have been proven to be powerful persuaders. We need as many people as we can to be in this fight, so go and get them!

And always remember, you're not just combating ignorance, you're combating hopelessness, helplessness, and burnout! You can inspire people to think about what's possible.

PS if any of you actually do this, please let me know. It'd make me so happy.

@onbearfeet @basil-gardens @punkypine @rederiswrites @veritatemquarens @radioraja

[vesora]

“The Law and the Promise” (1961) excerpts - n.g.

To attempt to change circumstances before you change your imaginal activity, is to struggle against the very nature of things. There can be no outer change until there is first an imaginal change. Everything you do, unaccompanied by an imaginal change, is but futile readjustment of surfaces.

Do not bow before the dictate of facts and accept life on the basis of the world without.

Assert the supremacy of your Imaginal acts over facts and put all things in subjection to them. Hold fast to your ideal in your imagination. Nothing can take it from you but your failure to persist in imagining the ideal realized. Imagine only such states that are of value or promise well.

What makes a present sense impression so objectively real is the individual’s imagination functioning in it and thinking from it; whereas, in a memory image or a wish, the individual’s imagination is not functioning in it and thinking from it, but is functioning out of it and thinking of it.

Enter the image of the wish fulfilled, then give it sensory vividness and tones of reality by mentally acting as you would act were it a physical fact.

Man must go back in memory, seek for and destroy the causes of evil, however far back they lie. This going into the past and replaying a scene of the past in imagination as it ought to have been played the first time, I call revision — and revision results in repeal.

I wish it were true of man’s noble dreams, but unfortunately — perpetual construction, deferred occupancy — is the common fault of man. 

When man finally identifies himself with his Imagination rather than his senses, he has at long last discovered the core of reality.

Man should daily relive the day as he wished he had lived it, revising the scenes to make them conform to his ideals.

Then, in imagination, read the revised letter over and over again and this will arouse the feeling of naturalness; and imaginal acts become facts as soon as we feel natural in the act.

If man does not always create in the full sense of the word, it is because he is not faithful to his vision, or else he thinks of what he wants rather than from his wish fulfilled.

If we had this wider view of causation — that causation is mental, not physical — that our mental states are causative of physical effects, then we would realize our responsibility as a creator and imagine only the best imaginable.

But causation does not lie in the external world of facts. The drama of life originates in the imagination of man. The real act of becoming takes place within man’s imagination and not without.

“The Gods have come down to us in the likeness of men!” 

The images of our imagination are the realities of which any physical manifestation is only the shadow.

Enter into the feeling of your wish fulfilled. Through spiritual sensation — through your use of imaginal sight, sound, scent, taste and touch — you will give to your image the sensory vividness necessary to produce that image in your outer or shadow world.

Change the image, and thereby change the fact.

We say that we are happy because we have achieved our goal.

It is possible to pass from thinking of to thinking from; but the crucial matter is thinking from, i.e., experiencing the state, for that experience means unification; whereas in thinking of there is always subject and object — the thinking individual and the thing thought of.

It is this “Eye of Imagination” and only this that can free us from the sense fixation of outer things which completely dominates our ordinary existence and keeps us looking on the reflective glass of facts.

We have to abandon ourselves to the state, in our love for the state, and in so doing live the life of the state and no more our present state. Imagination seizes upon the life of the state and gives itself to the expression of the life of that state.

In the world of sense we see what we have to see; in the world of Imagination we see what we want to see; And seeing it, we create it for the world of sense to see.

We see the outer world automatically. Seeing what we want to see demands voluntary and conscious imaginative effort. Our future is our own imaginal activity in its creative march.

Common sense assures us that we are living in a solid and sensible world but this so seemingly solid world is — in reality — imaginal through and through.

Man is All Imagination. 

Therefore, a man must be where he is in imagination, for his Imagination is himself. Imagination is active at and through any state that it is aware of. If we take shifting of awareness seriously, there are possibilities beyond belief.

We need not feed on sense-data.

Man is manifesting the power of Imagination whose limits he cannot define.

To realize that the Real Self — Imagination — is not something enclosed within the spatial boundary of the body is most important.

Mental traveling has been practiced by awakened men and women since the earliest days.

Paul states: “I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven — whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows.” 2Cor.12

Paul is telling us that he is that man and that he travelled by the power of imagination or Christ.

In his next letter to the Corinthians, he writes: “Test yourselves. Do you not realize that Jesus Christ is in you?” [2Corinthians 13:5]. We need not be ‘dead’ in order to enjoy spiritual privileges. “Man is All Imagination and God is Man.” [William Blake, from “Annotations to Berkeley”]. 

[astra-galaxie]

I DID IT!! Here’s the whole thing copy pasted from Google docs!!

The Player’s general skills and implied personality + some stuff abt them! (as far as i can gather, at least, tell me if i missed smth!)

*Note that these skills do not include case specific stuff (like the time they discovered a new species in Pacific Bay)

-Exceptionally skilled at handling the forensic kit,in S1, Jones had challenged the player to uncrack a code while he recites the alphabet from A, and the player cracked the code just before he hit the letter F. It takes about a few seconds, so that says a lot.

-The player has freaky intuition skills in general. I mean, in quite literally every case, they figure out what evidence is needed, what could count as evidence, and searches through things most would gloss over. Their partners acknowledge this a lot, more in the first cases since they just met.

-Can keep a level head even in high stress or even dangerous situations even when their partners cant, whether its during or after the cases. Jones addressed this after court quite a few times in the first season. Also, the player’s able to calm down whoever thier with or

*Add on, in S4, while facing Cappechi & Finley for the first time, he managed to intimidate Isaac on both occasions, however, the player remained composed enough to be able to file evidence against them.

-Works out. In Good Girls dont die, a case in S1, while Grace tries to convince Martha to calm down, she states that the player has already kicked down the door. Like, kick. The player probably doesnt even have any special gear on them, so either the door is weak or, the more likely theory is that the player got dem legs frfr

-Has quite the memory. Easiest case to get this info from is during S4, in the case Eyes Wide Shut, player and Isaac identify a rice makeup composition on the item, Player can easily recall that 17 cases back, which give or take a few, is about a monthish? That Madam Xiang was wearing it. Mind you, at this stage in case Eyes Wide Shut, the duo had only spoken to Madam Xiang once, and she never mentioned the makeup.

-The Bureau themselves asked for the player to join them, that in itself is already a accomplishment, since the Bureau is like, the elite of the elite in the police world.

-Their temper seems to be much milder, or at least, more controlled. Its more evident with Frank and David (S1) since the chiefs often say the player is much calmer than them, hell, David got in trouble for being too brash and got so many complaints he had to file paperwork.

-They do indeed make mistakes, one of my friends irl kept saying the player was a Mary Sue esque kind, but in S3, they were also led on by the Warren guy after he framed the Guru, and they were kidnapped by Karen in S2. If they were so called ‘Mary Sues’, they’d probably figure out a way to not get captured and be the person whos left unscathed and babied by the team.

-Maybe a similar point, but they have sharp eyes and possibly very good eyesight. In a case with Jonah as a partner in S3 during one of the Additional Investigations, the player spots a tent from afar up a mountain. Not to mention its always them who finds everything lol

-The player is good at calming down their partners or whoever is working with them tbh. Like every time one of their case partners are loosing hope, breaking down, feeling impatient or angry, the player snaps them back to their senses.

-They arent quite up to date with some stuff, or simply put, most likely arent that geeky like Jones is, or probably that interested in acting and stuff, in S4 when Isaac asks them how they have no idea who Dolly Darnell (famous actress) and a famous chess master is. Personally would love to think they’d love to listen to their friends and team talk about certain personal interests of thiers.

-Most definitely has a good physique. In S2, Roxie comments that they fit perfectly into a diving suit, which is typically quite tight, so we can assume their physical health is in good or in its prime, in S7, Ben mentions the player has great reflexes for being able to dodge a chupabara attack.

-Can handle a gun better than the average policeman could, probably. In S4, they got into a gunfight with their team against Capecchi and his men, and the team won, so probably suggests that either the rest did most of the work, or the player is good enough to aim and shoot down a whole bunch of tough ahh men.

-Has better driving skills than Jones

-The chiefs often say the player is a rolemodel of what the rest of the team members should be, often, its Frank and Jones being reprimanded and being compared to the Player.

-Implied to be a pretty sarcastic and humorous person, whenever the person their working with for a case or a suspect makes a unfunny or less than tasteful joke, or just does smth weird in general, they always tell the player to ‘not look at them like that’

*Jones seems to be the one saying this the most, including Frank because he teases the player a lot as well.

-Patient. The cheifs say the player is patient, and im sure having Frank work with them would make their temper flare at leats three times in a single hour if the player wasnt a patient person.

-Knows how to handle and drag themselves + their team out of wallowing after a crisis. In S3, Ripley praises the player for being able to rise up after her ‘death’ so quickly, and solving her ‘death’ as well.

-Thier spice tolerence is off the charts, could bet money that they definitely could eat a few hot peppers and only complain of a bit of bite on their tongue. Even Rita admits their tolerance is higher and she’s tough as hell.

-Reliable adult, probably good or decent with children. They were the adult Matilda came running to (in Grimsborough S1) while her own parents were arguing. Jones said this as well when reprimanding the dad.

-My friend (yes the same one) keeps saying that the player would be homophobic?? What?? At least one of their core team members are gay as hell, cmon bruh

-Is most definately empathic and more adept at handling sensitive cases, whether by sensitive, its a matter of whether the press gets ahold and it could be bad, or its sensitive like family and personal matters get involved. When their partners make a distasteful comment or joke, no matter how mild, the player is implied to have told them off (ahem, Jones, Frank and Roxie)

-Good at undercover work, its shows in S4 during the last district, does the S4 part where they have to break Florence Samuels out with Rose count?

-They solve cases within the day or in a few hours, the latest they’ve ever finished a case was in the evening and then again, the player had only started on it in the afternoon.

-A kind person in general. I mean, for one, if i was a homicide investigator and every time i do an investigation, multiple people want my help?? I’d bail, nuh uh. AND not to mention, its time consuming bc theres always the need for analysis, and with sometimes, personal and professional problems get mixed up halfway.

-They most definitely have the money to live comfortably, they have the money to take James Savage for shopping for a new funeral suit and outfit, and they recieve so much spare cash from suspects during the AI.

-I feel like they probably have a good fashion sense, but on that point, can we talk about their closet size?? They get so many articles of clothing, they would definitely be the kind to overdress on every occasion and still look fabulous.

-I would not be surprised if its end up being revealed that they were a reformed thief or some wild shit like that, how does a rookie officer know how to crack a lock in seconds??

-Do you guys think their banned from being the seeker whenever the office decides to play hide and seek because their so good at finding stuff? Like, the last time they were the seeker they probably caught everyone in less than 30 minutes or some shit

-In addition to that helping people shit, the player’s either just energetic in general or their ass is running on coffee and pure willpower because i CANNOT do what their doing, their partners dont even stay consistent throughout the entire AI, and sometimes, in the official investigation itself

-Player’s a positive influence on the people around them, and this prob my nth time mentioning them, but JONES AND FRANK!! Grace says at the end of S1 that the Player’s influenced them positively a lot, and Karen says that as well abt Player’s influence on Frank.

-More on the energy thing, they work overtime so often im surprised they havent asked for a raise or something (then again, the chiefs probably automatically gave them one anyways, maybe even more)

-Not afraid of them high rankers!! S4 for example, no matter how many times Commisioner Baldwin threatened them, they are not afraid, gives 0 fucks, did not gaf even tho Andrea told them to leave Jazz Town before the hurricane kills them

-Player def got a strong stomach and do not care about getting ther hands dirty, they’ve seen so many dead bodies in the most gruesome settings possible, and they dig through trash every case, they have definitely seen…stuff. Oh yeah, they’ve seen so much raunchy and sexual stuff I don’t think they’d be too fazed anymore.

-Offically, including the S4, S6 and S7 cases, they’ve solved 370 cases in their entire career, including a cold case in S5, maybe indirectly, a few more in S5 due to the Rocket Cow killer being discovered, and a few more side murders due to how many serial killers they’ve arrested, so the victims get justice.

-They get offered or are the ones paying the first round for drinks quite a lot, so I’d assume that either they dont drink at all, or they can hold their alcohol well.

-Has gained fame as both as a detective world wide and citywide, AND in Pacific Bay as a co owner of a movie and had their cases featured in another movie! I’d assume their movies are out by S3 or by S5.

-Magic hands, anything damaged can get so well repaired its like it was never broken, or the partners and the suspects are just trying to make the player not feel bad lol

-They seem to not mind… leftovers, or anything that is edible but looks or taste unappealing… I mean, if we get a burger everytime a prisoner gives up their prison slop to the player, does that imply they ate it no problemo??

Sidenote: it feels like I’m putting the player on a pedestal at some parts… I assure you I’m not trying to 🥲🥲

Sorry, it took so long for me to answer this! I FINALLY found the time to sit down, read and react to it!

And to start this off: HOLY SHIT!😲 (I mean this in the best way possible!)

(Live footage of me giving this post as much love as possible. Yes, I am secretly an alien gremlin!😉)

I'm going to try to go through each section at a time, so prepare for a long post!

-Sometimes, I wonder if anyone else has training when it comes to the forensic kit... I remember Jack claiming to be a pro at the vacuum tool, but we NEVER see him use it! Or any of our partners, for that matter!🙄

-It wouldn't surprise me if the player was psychic! Or at least partly! I don't think I've seen anyone make a psychic player OC yet, but it would be an interesting concept!

-After everything the player has seen, even just in the first season alone, it's no surprise they know how to keep their cool!

(At least Isaac got more confident at dealing with Finley! Though we can't blame him for being scared of Mad Dog!)

-Kicking down a door is no easy task! (Not that I've ever tried it.) So the player must try to keep themself in shape! And clearly, they don't skip leg day!🦾🦿

-I wish I had the player's memory sometimes... My working memory is slowly going downhill! And yeah, remembering something as minor as someone wearing rice makeup from months ago is impressive! Esapiclly considering everything that's happened between the cases!

-I have the theory that if CC had continued, we would have been recruited into the GIA or another secret spy agency like we were for the Bureau! After all, their resume would be as impressive as it is long!

-Some characters could learn from the player and their ability to control their temper... (*cough* Frank *cough*)

-I can see where your friend got the "Mary Sue" idea from. The player is constantly being praised for their work, but they still make mistakes and learn from them, like you said!

-Forget 20/20 vision; the player has the best eyes in the world! They must be the champion in Eye Spy and Hidden Object games!

-If the player ever decided to change careers, they could be a therapist! Or an anger management coach!

-With how busy the player is, it's unsurprising they don't have time to be up-to-date with some things...

As for the S4 thing, I like the idea of the player being from away and not knowing about Concordian celebrities, unlike their partners!

-In conjunction with the strength one, the player must take care of themself by eating well (ignoring all the free hamburgers they get...) and staying active!

-I think it's stated that the team worked together to defeat Capecchi and his men, but the player obviously knows how to handle a gun in order to stand their ground against them!

-Well, Jones did crash at least once that we know of, unlike the player...😉

-With how good the player is implied to be, I bet they would win employee of the month every month! Move over, Sponge Bob! We've got a new champ in town!

-Sometimes, I wish we had dialogue options just to see the jokes and witty remarks the player could make!

-The player must have the patience of a saint to put up with some of the people and things they have to deal with!

-For the amount of shit they find themself in, the player knows a thing or two about how to get out of it and drag others out with them!

-Given that Rita looked like she was on fire while eating the salsa, the player either has a steal tongue or no feeling in it to handle eating all that spice!

-I like to think the player is good with children too. After all, almost every time we meet a child in the game, they seem to love the player!

-I can't see how your friend came to the homophobic conclusion either! The player works with several LGBTQ+ teammates and interacts with even more LGBTQ+ characters outside the teams! Are we sure they played the same CC game?

-The player is one of the game's most empathetic people. Even after so much death and pain, they still are. And they know how to stay professional when working on a sensitive case.

-I'd count it as evidence of them being good at undercover work! They're also constantly undercover in S6 and manage to fool nearly everyone they meet!

-I've always wondered about the timeline for solving a case... I swear they finish every case within a shift! I think the only one I canonly recall taking more than a day was Anatomy of Murder when Jones talks about reading his book before bed during chapters 2&1 (I think...).

-The player has a heart of gold, and it's a miracle they still do by the end of the series!✨

-They must be LOADED! But if people keep giving them free money on top of their job income, it's no surprise they probably don't have to worry about money!

-With all the clothes and accessories they get throughout the series, they could have a whole floor in their house dedicated to their closet! Hopefully, they donate anything they no longer want.

-A common theme among OC players is that they always have a secret past! I'm sure someone must have made one with a past as a thief or something to help explain how they're so good at picking locks!

-Agreed. They are only allowed to participate in hide-and-go-seek by being the timekeeper.

-The player must live off of coffee, energy drinks, or SOMETHING to be so energetic! I know I wouldn't be so excited to do extra work by helping people after solving a murder! I hope they get extended vacations to make it even!

-Player, spreading positivity wherever they go!✨

-They better get paid WELL for everything they do for their job, teammates, cities and citizens!

-They've got nerves of steel and the bravery of a god to stand up against so much higher authority! They've even talked back to royalty before, too!

-For how often they search through the trash, they either have no sense of smell or the strongest stomach in the world!

-The player's case record is unbeatable! And they solved all those cases in under a decade, according to the undefined timeline!

-I think the drink thing stopped after S2 (or at least I don't remember it happening as much after that season), but they are still often invited for drinks one way or another!

-I'll never know how they weren't recognized in S7, given how famous they are! For changing to such a secret job when they joined the supernatural hunters, it's a surprise they weren't recognized! Especially considering we run into past characters!🤔

-The player is probably the first person people go to after breaking something! We'll never know how they manage to fix things so perfectly! Unless they really ARE magic!🤔

-The player never does say no to free food... Even when they really should! How they never got food poisoning (Jones flashback intensify) will remain a mystery!

-Don't worry; other characters put the player on a pedestal for us!😉

Phew! That was a workout! Hopefully, we didn't lose you guys!😅

I can tell you put a lot of work into this, so let me be the first to say good job!🥳✨

NOW TAKE A BREAK! You deserve it after creating this doc!

You captured a lot of the player's traits and successes! And I look forward to seeing what others think about your analysis! And if there's anything they think should be added! After all, it is always helpful to have some extra input!😊

[frozenjokes]

a few very good days

ao3 link

Whatever Scar had been expecting when it came to puzzles or escape rooms or whatever else, this was not it. ‘This,’ being.. a lot of sitting around and thinking and overall doing nothing. Cub and Cleo had decided to start with one of the hallways; because they were more dangerous, they were also shorter, and it was a nice morale boost to complete a room quickly. Their definition of ‘quick’ was not the same as Scar’s, not in the slightest.

For the first few days Cub wasn’t feeling well, supposedly unrelated to his sculk situation, but Scar didn’t really believe that, even if Cleo insisted otherwise. Resisting every fiber of his being telling him to smother Cub was a monumental effort, but working with Cleo on the escape room helped, and Scar was relieved at least to stay close to the safe room, even if Cleo insisted that Scar not check in on Cub every five minutes.

The start of the puzzle room had been pretty interactive. Despite having the beginning clue of paying attention to the mirror in the hall, Cleo was determined to map every inch of the place, which, honestly, Scar had thought she and Cub had already done, but apparently not. Every item that might have a clue or code was documented, every number on the walls and carved into drawers, every letter, every word, every lock and passcode and blank screen. There was so much in here that Scar hadn’t noticed at a first glance; it felt like every inch of this place was stuffed full of codes and riddles and ciphers. The back of the mirror had its own numerical lock, which Cleo was certain the mirror itself would hold the answer to. That made sense.

And then Cleo got sick.

Scar hadn’t noticed anything, and was alarmed when she told him she wasn’t feeling well, but Cub was doing better, so he would be helping out. Cleo didn’t have a fever or sweats or even smell any different, and Scar was disturbed he couldn’t tell they were sick at all, even after excessive investigation. On accident, he’d woken them up multiple times during the night trying to figure out what was the matter, being told off for completely reasonable forms of affection (“If you lick the insides of my ears one more time I am going to twist out your tongue with my bare hands), but despite his best efforts, he could not detect any sort of illness. Scar was an excellent caregiver regardless, whenever Cub would let him at least.

Cub did not have as much patience for Scar’s anxiety as Cleo did, and he didn’t very much like to hear about Scar’s struggle identifying a problem. ‘Just leave her alone, she wants to be left alone,’ and yes, Scar was perfectly okay and not at all stressed about doing this, but he was just concerned he couldn’t sense any kind of issue! Is that what happened when you died and came back? Scar had no idea, and he had an awful lot of questions, though all of them were answered with a blunt ‘I don’t know,’ even when Scar had gotten suspicious and started asking things Cub absolutely knew the answer to, which, to his credit, had turned into a somewhat amusing game. Cub was very good at holding a straight face, and Scar wanted nothing more than to Break It.

They were not very productive in the day or so that Cleo was ill. In fairness, Scar and Cleo had mapped out most of the room, so he and Cub were left to start with the mirror code, which turned out to be an excruciatingly boring task of trial and error that Scar tired of quickly. Messing around with Cub, trying to pull out any other emotion than ‘:|’ was far more entertaining.

And then Cub went to check on Cleo (WITHOUT HIM 3:<), but it wasn’t long before he returned, poking his head through the door to let Scar know she was all better (YAYY :3!!!). Cub didn’t explicitly say Scar was free to reenter the safe room when he let the door close, leaving Scar alone in the hall, but Scar took this to mean he was allowed back in, bounding to the door (with perhaps less caution than necessary in a hallway filled with deadly traps, but hey, he managed to get through unscathed nonetheless).

Scar was very confused to walk in and see Cub and Cleo sitting together on Cub’s bed, a blanket draped over both their laps.. a very small blanket actually, it looked torn at the edges.. what had Cub done to his bedspread?

“Uh,” Scar mumbled, a little nervous in the wake of Cleo’s bright expression and Cub’s slightly less angry looking face. They were looking at him expectantly, and Scar had utterly no clue what to do with that. “Is.. everything okay?”

“We made you something,” Cleo began, and they looked just about to burst, though when Cub said nothing, they elbowed him hard enough in the side to double him over, “Go on!”

“Augh. My insides.”

“Cub!”

“Why do I have to speak.”

“It was your idea!”

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Why not? I think it’s very sweet.”

“Stop saying words. Forever.”

“If you don’t want me to talk then you’re going to have to.”

“Fine.” Cub looked up, a definitive if not slightly sheepish look plastered in his strained frown, “I thought you could have something to lick that wasn’t me because I hate it and you’re not allowed to do that anymore even if you want to which is annoying because I can tell you want to and it irritates me. Stop looking at me like you want to lick me. Lick this instead.”

From under the blanket, Cub pulled a small plush- cat? It looked like it was meant to be a cat despite being a little rough around the edges, but it had those small ears and a tail and it even had six legs.. gosh it totally was a cat! A little kitten! Immediately it was clear the creature was made from the fabric that used to be Cub’s blanket, and Scar couldn’t entirely see Cub’s sheets behind him, but he didn’t know what else could have been used to stuff the little plush. The face had small embroidered eyes and a little smile. Scar could have cried.

“How- How did you make this? There isn’t- I don’t remember anything sharp you could’ve-”

“I can hack away at anything. Just takes longer.” Cub interrupted him, curt. Cleo was beaming. Cub looked about ready to bite her. “Stop- both of you stop that. Stop looking like that. I didn’t even sew it up, Cleo did that, I wouldn’t be precise enough to do a good job. They’re the only reason it looks half good, they’ve got the thread just in case their face falls apart, I hardly did anything.”

Apparently Cub was not pleased with the silence, and he did bite Cleo, hard by the way she yelped, then he took the plush and whipped it at Scar, who with great alarm caught it like it was glass, staring on at Cub as he continued to hiss “And be careful with it! It’s fragile.”

“I can repair it if any of the seams come loose,” Cleo smirked, patting Cub on the back, to which he glared at her with a revulsion Scar had never seen cross his face before. Then, standing stiff, he marched to Cleo’s bed and buried himself in it. Cleo still looked radiant. “And what he won’t say is that he’s sorry for freaking out on you all those loops ago, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Cub’s great revolution to this sentiment was expressed in a valiant flailing and cursing under the covers, but other than that, he said no more.

Scar wasn’t listening. He was too enraptured in the face of his new companion, soulful and innocent and entirely perfect. He’d never loved so instantly, so strongly. A little one of his very own. Scar would treat it with utmost care.

…

The three of them fell into a pretty steady routine. Wake up, chat, eat, head to the puzzle room, fuck around for a bit, hopefully make some process, break for lunch, chat, back to the puzzle room, hit their heads against the wall when nothing was working, break for dinner, and depending on how motivated the three of them were, they’d get back to it. It was boring, a lot more boring than Scar had expected from a big escape room, but he supposed there was a reason this thing took months to complete. The humans didn’t want their prisoners to have too much fun.

But there were a few new developments with Scar’s life that made existing here a little more bearable, sometimes even nice.

It was a strange thing for him how the humans ate, always together, always talking or playing a game or doing something else, like the act of eating was sidelined by a more engaging social activity. It still made Scar a little uncomfortable; he just couldn’t shake it despite longing for their company, but that didn’t mean his new shining star needed to be excluded.

When Cub and Cleo sat down to eat, Scar left his Little with them, along with its very own serving of rations, so it might participate while Scar rested in his place near the ceiling, one eye open, relaxed, observing, but mostly drifting to a surface level doze. Cub and Cleo usually went back to the escape room before Scar woke, so he ate afterwards, content to be alone with his Little.

The humans were also consistently sleeping together now, likely due to Cub’s mangled sheets, but this was a double win for Scar, who was more than thrilled to drape himself over the both of them, Little tucked under his chest. Any surges of sudden affection were redirected to his Little, the short fur on its head always sticking up in every which way. It was great. It was almost perfect. He loved human nights now, even if they were still far too quiet.

The time just before the night was lovely as well. They had already eaten their dinner, so the three of them just lounged in the beds, sometimes spread out over the two, sometimes all in the same place, and Cleo got to telling stories.

Scar didn’t know how these stories became routine, they hadn’t been before, but it started with a distant smile, Scar asking what she was thinking about, and then,

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about home. Funny memory with my family, that’s all.”

“Tell me about it?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine.”

“Please?”

Cleo looked up, and Scar didn’t know if she just didn’t want to tell, or didn’t think Scar wanted to hear what she had to say, but either way she cracked, smiling as she shook her head.

“Well, near my childhood home there were all these strawberry fields, and the people that owned the land made their money by letting people pick them and bring ‘em home, y’know?”

Scar glanced away, sheepish, “I don’t.. know the field you’re talking about. We don’t have whatever the word before is.”

“Oh, it’s a fruit. It’s food that grows out of the ground.”

“Oh, alright. Continue.”

Cleo smiled, “Well, the food grows on bushes that are pretty close to the ground, so people have to bend over to pick them up. We don’t walk easily on four legs, we have bad knees.”

“Yes,” Scar agreed heartily, “I find them unnerving.”

“Me too, anyway, my mom would bring ‘her boys’ down to the food fields, and we’d all go ‘strawberry’ picking, a nice family activity, at least until her terrible little gremlin children became quite aware of what tends to happen to middle aged men who bend over to pick food with their kids.” Cleo gestured to their pants, and Scar did not understand.

“Asscrack!” Cub mumbled, and Scar gave him a quizzical look until Cleo continued.

“When you bend over, sometimes your pants slide down and bring your underwear with it. Happens to the best of us. But my brother and I, shit eating children as we were, thought this was very amusing. Honestly, it was my mother’s fault, she was the one who started it. She brought the two of us close, pointed in the most conspicuous way she could’ve possibly done it, and whispered ‘asscrack!’ We, all three of us, were in complete stitches. Inconsolable. Now, we’re little kids, we aren’t supposed to be swearing like that, so imagine my mom’s horror when she accidentally creates a new game, her two children pointing and screaming ASSCRACK every single time a poor soul bends over wearing pants way too tight. It became a competition. Who could call out the most asscracks? Had to be different people every time, no repeats, and whoever spotted the crack first and called it out got the point. My mother caved eventually, because objectively, Asscrack is an incredible game. We got our swearing pass one day a year out in those fields, hardly able to get the words out because we were laughing so hard. We were pulling down our own pants just to add our own cracks to our point totals. Complete chaos. I’d give anything to go back and do it all again,” Cleo sighed, their smile falling slightly, but Scar was utterly entranced.

He still didn’t quite understand why pants were such a big deal to humans, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t about the details. “Tell me more.”

Cleo snorted, “More what? Nothing else to that story.”

“More stories, then. Please.”

Cleo laughed, rolling her eyes. “You are just like a kid sometimes, you know that?” Scar didn’t care. Cleo’s smile returned, and they closed their eyes, reclining back on the bed board to think. Scar watched with bated breath, his Little tucked close to his chest and wearing a similar expression of anticipation (:3).

He wanted more. He wanted to hear all about their past, their friends, their family, the stupid things they got up to when they were young, everything, and that first night Cleo talked until the three of them fell asleep, Scar remembering distinctly a small smile on Cub’s face before consciousness faded to dark.

Sometimes Scar would attempt to contribute a story, and while he struggled sometimes to sift through the swamp of ugly memories to find something positive, Cleo was patient, and even Cub’s eyes had a shine of interest that encouraged him to continue. Scar had.. never really done this before. Rested on the soft cloud of tender memories, spoke the good into existence, let it feel real. And it did. It felt so much more real. His longing for home remained in the wake of his speeches, but there was something more hopeful there, something good, something to look forward to when he finally made it back to his planet. (Maybe it wouldn’t be long now.. two weeks had passed and even though progress was slow, it was definitely happening. Cleo predicted they were more than halfway done with the hall puzzles, and Cub had been less optimistic, but reluctantly agreed. With only five rooms and one of them almost complete, it wouldn’t be long now.)

Scar was going to call home. He was going to do it after Cub and Cleo fell asleep, when his morale was highest and when they couldn’t see him get ripped to shreds if things turned sour. Scar would have his Little. That would be enough.

While he was waiting for the humans to fall asleep he ended up dozing off himself, but that was alright, since when he woke up he knew for sure they’d both be sufficiently conked out. Indeed, they did not stir, even when he walked over them to sneak out the left hall door.

Scar’s confidence held firm until he reached the control room monitors, slowly draining away to the beat of the soft electronic buzzing. While the room was just as bright as it was during the day, the atmosphere was still gentle like the night, unsettling in some ways and peaceful in others. He hesitated when he reached the keyboard, but he was not a coward. He knew which buttons to press.

The initial receiver looked surprised to see him; maybe it was late back home? Regardless, they were cordial, and there was only a brief waiting period before a familiar face was staring back at him from his own clan’s console board.

Scar meant to speak, but standing face to face with someone he knew, cared for, even when they hardly spoke beyond a passing greeting.. his tongue dried. Skizz did not need to be prompted.

“What’s poppin’ homie buddeh, how you doing, man? It’s been a while, we’ve been thinking about’cha.”

Scar opened his mouth. No words came out of it. The only warning of what was to come was an itch at the back of his throat, a swelling in his chest, and then he sobbed, sobbed like he’d never cried before in his entire life. Scar had been sad, he’d known the ache of depression and boredom that clawed harder than the looming hunger, he’d broken down at the loss of his mother, and he’d known pain of broken limbs, sickness, frailty that threatened his fragile sense of usefulness, but this..

Right now, he did not cry for grief or anger or loss. He did not cry for loneliness, and maybe he did cry for homesickness, but tonight, inconsolably sobbing at a bright screen, he cried because they were thinking about him. They were thinking about him, and the cat that had answered the phone had been happy to see him. Scar had not dared be so hopeful.

Skizz pressed his large forehead to the camera, and Scar heard the horns that curled around his ears clink against the screen, “It’s alright. It’s okay, Scar, it’s going to be okay.”

Scar couldn’t help himself from clambering up on the desk and keyboard, he could have killed himself with carelessness like this, but he didn’t care, he needed to get to the camera mounted above the monitor, he needed to be close. He pushed his forehead to it and it was warm, almost like a body.

“I miss you. I miss being there. I think about it every day, every day I want to be back home. We- I’m working on it. It won’t be long now, but I just miss it- being home, I just want to be back home.”

“You’ve got it, buddy. I know you’ll make it work.”

Scar laughed, just a little bit, shaking his head, “I don’t know if we know each other well enough to be saying stuff like that..”

“Naww, if I know a thing about you, Scar, it’s that you’re a mighty whirlwind of a guy. You can break through. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, you won’t stop until you’ve done it.”

Scar backed up from the camera to see that Skizz had already returned to his place in frame, bright eyed and vibrant as he was; maybe Scar should spend more time around Skizz; he hadn’t before because of Impulse, Scar being mildly intimidated by him, but maybe it would be worth putting forth more of an effort to befriend the both of them. Some of Skizz’s optimism might rub off on him.

Scar hopped down from the desk, giving his ruffled shoulders a few embarrassed licks, “I don’t think I have a choice, truthfully.”

“Yeah,” Skizz looked thoughtful, tail flicking genially, “But you’ll do it all the same. What can I do for you, Scar? Looking for anyone?”

“Pearl,” Scar spoke faster than he’d intended, tripping over the one word, “Is Pearl around?”

Skizz raised an eyebrow, and Scar knew why. Anyone would have expected Mumbo, but Scar wasn’t quite ready to see him yet, hoping he’d be away. Besides, Scar and Pearl weren’t.. on the best of terms. It didn’t matter. Scar was still sniffling, and Skizz didn’t try to question him.

“I’ll call down, one second,” Skizz muted his and Scar’s connection, and Scar saw Skizz sit up on his haunches, using all four of his paws to dial and hold the phone; Scar wondered if Skizz was covering a shift for Impulse; it didn’t make sense otherwise why he wasn’t using a phone fit for paws without thumbs. Skizz didn’t seem to have an issue either way, brightening when someone on the other end picked up, looking like chatting with the cat on the other line made him the happiest man in the world. He was always like that, really. Skizz had a talent for making you feel valued, he was one of the nicest cats in the clan, that was for sure. He was a big guy, a retired mercenary with the scars to prove it, but even then, there wasn’t a jaded bone in his body. Scar wished he could be like that one day.

“She's on her way, happy to be here too, doesn’t happen very often that she has an excuse to blind the whole comms team in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, is it late? Sorry, the humans track time differently-”

“Nonsense, nonsense, come now, Scar, you know Pearl’s on an inverted clock anyway, yeesh, if I had a sleep schedule like her I’d be in the ground!” The both of them laughed softly, Skizz doing Scar a massive favor by carrying the rest of the conversation with mild small talk. Scar didn’t want to talk very much about what was going on in his own life, and it was an incredible relief to close his eyes and listen to the comings and goings of his own clan, even if he wasn’t truly there.

There was no mistaking Pearl’s arrival, the dim lights of the room being blown out by the light from her eyes and fur, literal light, Pearl was only slightly larger than the smallest cats on Scar’s planet, but you wouldn’t know it, mostly because when her eyes were open, you could hardly look her in the face at all. Multiple cats groaned in the face of the sudden light and Skizz snickered, mixing warmly with Pearl’s recognizable cackle. The brightness was far more bearable when Pearl closed her eyes, the moths and various other creatures nestled in her fur fluttering, but ultimately not moving.

“Do me a favor, won’t you Skizz?” Pearl mumbled through a dark blindfold hanging out the side of her mouth.

“Anytime, Pearlo,” Skizz took the blindfold gently, his paws dwarfing her face as he awkwardly pushed the light canceling cloth over her face, the both of them giggling at the clumsiness of their own paws. Scar was amused to see small dapples of light poking out from the many holes made by accidental claw marks, probably from all the struggling to get the thing on in the first place. Scar was glad he had thumbs.

When the commotion was over, Pearl turned to the camera, and even though the smile on her face remained, she was less animated as she greeted him, “Hello, Scar. Good to see you.”

Scar faltered slightly, unsure if she could actually see him through the blindfold or not; she didn’t wear it often, it was hard to remember. Kind of a stupid design if she couldn’t see though, that wouldn’t much much sense-

“Scar?”

“Oh- Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Skizz looked between the two of them, lowering his head, “I’ll leave you two to it. Call if you need anything.” Scar watched with mild terror as Skizz got to his paws, padding away into the back hall.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Pearl’s voice was light, but Scar could hear the strain- oh, she must be able to see through the blindfold then, okay.

“Ah- Sorry. I’m just.. I’m a little bit scrambled.”

“Don’t need to apologize, mate, I don’t have anywhere else to be. If I can ask, though, why me? Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve really talked.”

Scar bit his tongue at the impulse to apologize. “I’ve just been thinking about you. We’ve been- the humans and I, I mean.. We do a lot of talking. There’s not much else to do other than talk. And I was thinking about you, the both of us when we were younger, y’know? We weren’t- I mean, we weren’t anything close or anything.. just the same age in the same place, but.. I don’t know. I miss.. I feel like I didn’t.. I appreciate you. I appreciate you, and I wanted you to know.”

It was hard to read Pearl’s expression when half of her face was covered; Scar wished she didn’t have to wear that stupid blindfold, but he supposed if the light from her eyes shone directly into the camera, he wouldn’t be able to see her either.

“That’s sweet, Scar,” Pearl mumbled, and he saw a small smile there, but it was bittersweet, and Scar fought the storm of anguished rejection that threatened to burst through the gates of his composure, “I miss it too, sometimes. It was easier then, easier to goof around and get in trouble and not care so much. I was afraid to lose that. And you were in such a hurry to grow up.”

“I know,” Scar’s whiskers twitched, ear drooping, “It was hard with my health.. I knew I’d get set back. If I wasn’t working harder than everyone else then I wouldn’t be fit to fly as early as I needed to.”

“You didn’t have to go to space the day you turned of age.”

“I did.”

“I guess I’ll never understand that about you,” Pearl sighed, and Scar was relieved, at least until she continued, “I just wish you didn’t have to change. You weren’t just in a hurry to grow up, you had to leave everyone else behind in order to do it.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did, Scar. That’s why it’s so difficult to be around you sometimes, because you just don’t.. I don’t know. It’s nice to know you cared, it really is, because I didn’t really know. I believe you didn’t see it that way, that you didn’t actually think the only cats good enough for you were the soldiers you looked up to, but that’s how I took it. That’s how I felt.” Pearl quieted, but when Scar didn’t have the words to answer, she lowered her head. “But yeah, I miss it too. I know things were never really easy, but I do miss it. I hope you’re doing well.”

“I’d like to make it up to you. I really- I am sorry. I was.. I can’t fix it, I can tell you why, but I can’t fix it, and I’m sorry. I want to make it up to you. I’ve thought a lot of things for a lot of years that weren’t true, but I.. I’ve had a lot of time to look back, and when I’ve been doing that, thinking about it all, so much of my childhood I got to spend being a child.. that was you. And I owe you so much for that, I just wish I could’ve realized it sooner.”

Pearl shook her head. “Nothing to be done, Scar. Nothing to be done. All of that was so many years ago, I’ve moved on, and even though all this is.. It’s nice to hear, but it’s over now. When you’re home we can share a groom; I wouldn’t mind reconnecting with you. No use holding grudges from when we were kids; no use holding grudges at all in my opinion. We have enough to be unhappy about, don’t we? If you want to do anything for me, then let it go. I’d be happy with that.”

“Okay,” Scar fought to keep his voice steady. He wasn’t sure how he’d do that, but if that’s what Pearl wanted from him, he would try. He would try. “I’d like that. I really would. I don’t- Wastes, sharing a groom sounds like the best thing in the world to me right now.”

“Humans don’t groom each other like we do?”

“They don’t groom each other at all.”

“What? No wonder they’re so miserable! I’ve heard they’re quite poor company, I’m sorry for that.”

“Oh, no, they’re not so ba-“

“Scar!” Mumbo ripped into the comms room, scaring the life out of everyone present on what was previously a quiet night, even Pearl’s tail puffing to double its size while Scar couldn’t do anything but stare in bewildered shock at the screen. Several catfolk let loose a couple of nasty hisses, to which Mumbo shrunk back with a meek apology before squirreling towards Pearl, not that he greeted her in the slightest.

“Scar, goodness Scar, you’re alright, are you? Did you get away from them? How long has it been, oh, and you’ve been stuck with those- those maniacs- and it’s my fault! Scar, I’m sorry. I never should have said those things that I said to you, it was stupid, and I had no idea- Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Scar gaped stupidly. “..What? I don’t- what?”

“They killed you!”

“I.. The humans? Yeah, they.. quite a few times they’ve killed me. The ship in it of itself is kind of a death trap. You’re designed to die. I don’t like it, but that’s where I’m at.. Trying not to get desensitized to it is the hardest part, honestly, but I’ve been shot in the head so many times it hardly phases me anymore. If I have to die, that’s how I prefer to go. Cub has crafted a few more.. creative ways of killing me.. Well, technically I wasn’t the one he was trying to kill, but accidents happen, and honestly, so long as there’s blood I think he’s happy.”

Mumbo couldn’t have looked more horrified if a human came in through the hall door and shot Scar dead right then.

“There has to be something we can do. We have to get you out of there, we need- There must be something that’ll keep those humans from treating you like a shooting range dummy!”

Scar scratched the back of his head, discomfort making his tail twitch, “It’s not so bad, Mumbo. Most of the time they’re doing it to reset the loop, which we have to do to find a proper layout for the puzzles. They’re doing me a favor, honestly.. if they didn’t shoot me, I’d have to do it myself and I.. I just can’t.”

“You shouldn’t have to! It looks to me like they kill you just for fun!”

Scar pursed his lips. “Well.”

“Well?”

“Cub does. Sometimes. It’s been a while though! And Cub promised to be nicer- I don’t know if that means he’ll stop, but at least right now he can’t! We’re working on the puzzles, and if we solve it, we get to go home early! I know it feels like a long way away, but we have five puzzles to solve, and we’re already more than halfway through the first one! I’m going to go home, Mumbo.”

But Mumbo growled in response, only stopping when Scar shrank under the noise, Mumbo’s long ears drooping and eyes growing softer. “I’m going to make this right, Scar, I’m going to do my best to- which one is Cub?”

“I- He’s the one with the dark hair and the lab coat. All the baggy clothes, really. But it’s fine, Mumbo, I think we’re starting to get along-“

“It’s not fine!” Mumbo wailed, getting a few dirty looks from the other cats in the room, “Nothing about this is fine, Scar! I’ll set off to the central comms center tomorrow, I’ll make them put me in contact with the humans and if they don’t listen then I’ll get Grian to do it! He doesn’t have the authority either, but he could bring them to tears at least, he’ll do it for me. I’ll tell them to get that Cub human under control- and the other one too, I don’t care if they’re nicer, they knew exactly what they were doing when they looked directly at me and pulled the damned trigger-“ Mumbo’s voice hiked upwards in staccato notes, and Scar couldn’t do much more than blink as he struggled to process what Mumbo had said.

“Did.. Did Cleo call you?”

Mumbo stared at Scar as if he was a ghost, “Not exactly but- but I- I called you. It’s been ages, I don’t know exactly when but you- you weren’t there and they.. you don’t remember?”

“No!?”

“Oh dear,” Pearl mumbled, and a couple other cats glanced away, like everyone in the room knew what had happened while Scar was still in the dark.

“What did they do!?”

“I-“ Mumbo started, stuttering and stumbling, “I just wanted to talk to you! I didn’t- I didn’t like how things went down, it was unfair to you, I just-“

“Mumbo, what happened?”

“You- They were waiting for you. By both of those doors. When you came inside the Cub human grabbed you and you- you looked right at me and your- your head, Scar, your head. He looked right at me, just covered in your blood, you couldn’t have even fought back. He shot you- I don’t even know how many times he shot you, your body was just convulsing- And then the other human came out of nowhere, and they killed Cub, right in the head, just like he’d done to you, and they looked at me. Scar, they looked at me before they shot themself, and they didn’t even die right away. I was just staring, staring at the three of you for I don’t even know how long. Until the screen went black. The call disconnected. I can’t stop seeing your face, the way you looked at me, like you saw me, and you knew you were going to die.”

Scar gaped. He couldn’t close his stupid mouth, he couldn’t hardly think- Mumbo had called back, he’d tried to reach Scar, and neither of them had said a word.

Scar was going to FUCKING KILL THEM.

“I’ll call you back. I don’t know when, but soon.” Scar was barely holding himself together, composure as thin as the line of his lips. He set his Little down on the keyboard; it didn’t need to see this. Mumbo didn’t either, Scar knew he wouldn’t want to, though he’d gladly perform a show for every cat available to watch him rip them limb from limb.

Scar didn’t remember how to hang up, but whether or not Mumbo did so was not his problem. Muscle memory brought him back to the humans safely.

They did not wake up when Scar tore the blankets away with a hiss, but they were certainly up when he yanked them out of bed by their ankles, backs and faces smashing against the floor, the both of them jumping dazedly to their hands only to be kicked back down.

“Scar-?”

“Take a guess who I just got off the phone with,” Scar snarled, angrier still when clarity failed to reach Cleo’s eyes; he expected something like this from Cub, he did not expect it from them. He wound back and kicked her, hard enough to break a rib though he didn’t hear anything crack. She groaned, breath stolen.

“Was no one going to say anything? Mumbo called, and NEITHER of you thought to tell me? You lied!”

“Oh,” Cub grunted, rolling over onto his arms, “That’s what this is about? Couldn’t have waited until the morning?”

“Shut up!” Scar raked his claws across Cub’s face, then again, then a third time, but it wasn’t enough, Cub wasn’t in enough pain, so Scar kicked him as well, nailing him hard enough in the stomach to roll him on his back. “Shut up! Just- Shut up!”

“Scar, come on,” Cleo wheezed, breath coming heavy, “We didn’t know what he wanted. You were so upset, we didn’t want anyone thinking they could just call to yell at you any time, especially when we’re the ones who have to endure the aftermath.”

“Oh, is that it.” Scar whirled on them, tail lashing so violently that he wouldn’t be surprised if it whipped right out of the socket, “I’m just such a burden on the two of you that you couldn’t tell me when my damn friends want to talk to me!”

“Yeah,” Cub huffed, “You were a fucking pain in the ass.” Cub stopped talking when Scar stomped on his back with both legs.

“We all have our lows,” Cleo grunted, “And they’re not always easy on the other people. It happens. You don’t like when we kill each other, and we don’t like it when you- were the way that you were. But we dealt with it because we had to, and we did what we needed to do to keep it from getting worse.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Scar snarled, “A fucking inconvenience?”

“No, Scar,” Cleo sighed harshly, she was annoyed at him! She was annoyed, Cleo- Scar didn’t even hear the rest, he swiped at their face in an uncoordinated hurt, only grazing their nose, but his claws caught on something, pulled, Scar wincing back at the unexpected resistance. “Fuck- fucking- Damn it, Scar!”

He’d torn something, the stitches maybe, there was no blood, but something else, lighter and viscous and something was very wrong with their skin, but as quickly as Scar was frightened by it, he did not care, whirling around and storming out of the room. He went to collect his Little; the monitors were dark and he was grateful. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. But the control room got too much traffic, he didn’t want to be here, so he went back to his own reset room, settling on the top of the shelf with the judgemental statues, and sniffled dust.

If either of the humans came looking for him, they probably wouldn’t find him up here. He didn’t want to be found.

It didn’t matter. They never came looking.

That hurt more.

[72-votes]

Tʜᴇ Kɪʟʟɪɴɢ Vᴏᴛᴇ

Thirty-five years ago, DC Comics opened a phone poll to kill Batman's child sidekick, Robin.

The poll was open to paying callers in the U.S. and Canada for a window of 35 hours, starting on 15 September 1988 at 9AM EST. There were two premium-rate phone numbers—one for Robin's survival, and one for Robin's death. Each paying caller could call multiple times. The results were decided by a margin of 72 votes out of a total 10,614 votes—the difference was just under 0.68%.

Now you decide.

KILL ROBIN

Jerry Smith of Covington, Kentucky claims to have sold his Mercedes-Benz to pay for votes to kill Robin

"Who Killed Cock(y) Robin? I Killed Cock(y) Robin" article by Glen Weldon (2008)

"1-800-DEAD-ROBIN" autobiographical comic by Tony Wolf (2015)

"We killed Jason Todd" feature by Matt Markman (2021)

SAVE ROBIN

Senator Patrick Leahy (D-Vt.), a noted Bat-fan and scholar, denounced the episode as a "Roman gladiator-like readers vote."

"I loved him [...] I personally voted for him to live 100 times, and my mom flipped when she saw the phone bill," says magazine writer Savas Abadsidis.

MJG6 said: I was dead broke, working my way through college, but I voted. My first job was at a comic book store, making me an OG fan girl, I guess, and I encouraged people to vote to save him. [...] Because killing a teen, in a role kids are supposed to identify with, that was just sick.

Further Reading

"A Death in the Family, or: How DC Comics Let a Phone Vote Kill Robin" via r/HobbyDrama

"Living Dead Boy: Jason Todd vs. The Culture That Killed (and Resurrected) Him" on Women Write About Comics

"The Vote to Kill Robin" - trivia, misconceptions, opinions by comic-commentary

Some fan letter columns from Jason's later times as Robin

No Birds Allowed: Batman without Robin

"A lot like Robin if you close your eyes": Displacement of meaning in the Post-Modern Age by Mary Borsellino, an essay on dead Robins, sexism, and classism

🦞 The Tale of Larry the Lobster 🦞

Submitted arguments below:

Kill Robin

Anonymous propaganda IN FAVOR of killing the lobster the Robin!

I love Jason Todd. I love his post-crisis Robin days, I love his sense of justice and his adorable love of learning and his silly curly bangs! I say this to emphasize that I don't want him killed out of any dislike of the character.

I want him dead out of a love for storytelling that gets to stick to its guns and doesn't pull its punches. In context of the poll we readers have just seen Dick Grayson get kicked out of the role due to Bruce's fear of him getting hurt, then he turns around and gets a new Robin anyways because he misses him! I really like that Bruce is being messy and hypocritical! Let that have some real consequences please!

If there were no real consequences then Dick got shoved out of being Robin for what? Hairbrained overprotective worry? Why even change the way he graduated into being Nightwing so much then or heck why even kick him out in the first place?

One might argue that we haven't even given this Robin proper time to develop, that instead he might be taken in new and interesting directions as his own unique Robin shaping the mantle into a legacy rather than just something that was Dick's. I admit this is a very good point, and we are cutting off some possible interesting avenues. As I mentioned, I do like this character! But are we really going to get that?

If DC is already prepared to toss him out of this mortal coil and through the pearly gates after such a short while, do we really think we're going to get much more love and care applied to him?

I say let's roll the dice for something new! May the comics world and all these characters have to deal with the ramifications for many years to come!

Save Robin

robin’s death (and subsequent resurrection) is, frankly, an insult to robin fans of that era. to want to see this child get killed in a brutal manner for no apparent reason, to see jason essentially removed from the narrative so batman could go back to being gritty and depressed—this is awful to me. he hadn’t even been robin for very long!

but that’s not why he should’ve lived.

the resurrection of jason todd as the red hood was narratively interesting enough that it kept most fans of the original jason hooked, and it still does! he has become a prime example of a trauma survivor: his death changed him, and those who loved him have difficulty accepting that.

but there is no resolution to that story, nor was there a resolution to jason’s tenure as robin. dick chose to leave robin behind and take on a new mantle. tim, steph, both had robin taken away from them (and let’s forget about how tim is still robin, because that doesn’t matter right now). damian’s role as robin conflicts with his misconception of his role in the family. everyone else has had an ending, and jason’s death…well. after his resurrection, he has somehow remained stagnant and wildly inconsistent at the same time. this applies to under the red hood too.

at its core, utrh is a deeply classist retelling of jason’s life pre-death in the family. winick makes him a villain—albeit a sympathetic one—who fucks over or kills people that he would’ve thrown himself in front of to save as robin. in utrh, the implication is that jason had always been violent and angry (and morally compromised), and that he was destined to become worse.

it sometimes feels that jason’s transition into being the red hood (and all the characterization that comes with that) was a decision dc made for shock value. just from jason’s robin run, it’s difficult to imagine jason becoming the red hood. it doesn’t feel inevitable. it’s tragic.

ultimately, i believe that jason never should have died, and that his death was a stunt by dc for its shock value. jim starlin wanted jason dead because to him a child sidekick, in a medium that was originally made for children, was “sheer insanity”. he was fridged, plain and simple.

[strawberrygiorno]

I've seen people talk about Kim's daily cigarette and the connection to the lungs and how if he's left in Martinaise he smokes a second cigarette and how that links to his feelings for Harry.

What I haven't seen is people talking about the cigarette also involving fire. Fire, which the game repeatedly uses to represent hope, change, and revolution.

Let's take a look at the lines after his one-a-day habit is introduced:

[Text ID: KIM KITSURAGI - "You mean this?" The light of his cigarette illuminates a fleeting smile. "This isn't cool - it's an unnecessary trial of will. And unhealthy." He flicks the ash.

VOLITION - Keeping the habit within the parameters he's given himself takes a lot of focus. It would be easier to simply quit.

COMPOSURE - Yet were he to quit, he would lose the cool factor. This man relishes his cool quite a bit -- below it all. End ID]

This is clearly an allegory for the way he tries to keep his emotions under tight control, and this includes his desire for something better for Revachol. Volition states that it would be easier to quit than to do what Kim does. Giving up hope, resigning himself to the world he's in, would mean less disappointment, more distance, less pain, but it would mean removing a significant part of himself. That spark is too important to him to extinguish fully. Being in the RCM, though, means he needs to keep that spark as dim as possible. Otherwise, he might draw attention himself or actually process his role in suppressing the change he can't help but want.

This is interesting when coupled with some statements he makes later if you ask him his position on the Moralintern and Dolorianism.

[Text ID: KIM KITSURAGI - "The Moralintern are a fact. I try not to have opinions on facts -- until they change. And," he looks at the city below, "It doesn't look like that's about to happen." End ID]

[Text ID: YOU - "Kim, are you a follower of Dolorianism?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes. We all are. Her name, body, and rule are synonymous with humanism. The laws we enforce are Dolorian in origin."

YOU - "I didn't think you were spiritual."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's not spiritual. It's constitutional. The Dolorian system does not demand faith -- only accordance." End ID]

These answers are both so... empty. There's no belief in either of these systems, just that resignation to the fact of their existence. He is, on some level, aware of what he is supporting. That tiny revolutionary desire of his keeps him from identifying with it, though his refusal to stoke that flame simultaneously keeps him from rejecting it to pursue something he *can* believe in.

So, Kim takes refuge in something he knows is true: facts. He knows how the world works, and he knows that there aren't mysterious things like giant bug cryptids or 2-millimeter holes in the world involved in Martinaise.

Except, there are those things, as well as other things that challenge what Kim holds to be facts, and he is forced to accept that the world is much stranger and much more beautiful than he dared to believe.

Over the course of one week, facts change.

The first cigarette we see Kim smoke that final day comes out almost immediately after Harry wakes up after the tribunal, which is completely understandable. After experiencing the tribunal and seeing Harry in so much pain and abandoned by his precinct, of course Kim is experiencing affection for Harry and anger at the system that created this situation.

Later, looking at the message painted on the ground in oil, Harry sets it on fire. What does he use to do this?

[Text ID: YOU - "Step back, lieutenant." (Set the graffito on fire with a lit cigarette.)

ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO YOUR SIDE - The fuel oil catches fire immediately with an ominous hiss -- a bright orange flash across the surface of the letters. Black smoke rises from the burning message. End ID]

A cigarette. One spark to set off the massive fire. A fire that warms both of them.

That brings us to Kim's second cigarette he smokes when left in Martinaise. It's a representation of how irrevocably changed Kim is by his experience on this case. Even if he and Harry don't go on to continue working together, this one week has stirred something in Kim that causes that hopeful, revolutionary fire in his lungs to burn a little brighter, and for once he decides to fan the flame.

[adachimoe]

Adachi and the Midnight Channel

Previously, I went into long ramblings about Adachi being the person in the fog and how that means he didn't actually know what was going on, and also how he was showing up in the fog expecting Namatame to kill someone because he hates that guy.

Something I did not bring up in the fog person post was the Midnight Channel. The premise of "Adachi being the fog guy" is that if he is the fog guy, then it just means he had no idea who Namatame put into the TV. But if Adachi say... watched the Midnight Channel, wouldn't he have an idea about who Namatame was throwing in?

So this is an unhinged attempt to deduce if Adachi watched the Midnight Channel, and if so, how much did he watch it? I argue that if he did watch it, it was 3 times at most. Furthermore, this idea is based on... stereotypes about Japanese work culture.

The player's introduction to the Midnight Channel

After Chie tells the group the rumor on the 12th, the three of them go home and watch the Midnight Channel on April 13th, then talk about what they saw at school the next day.

Seemingly, all 3 of them saw Saki, but to varying levels of clarity. Chie and Yosuke aren't able to identify her as being "Saki" even though they both know her from school, and Chie is able to make out her physical details more clearly than Yosuke.

When they question Namatame later, he says Saki's image became sharper as he watched, and he even recognized her.

As the game goes on, there's always that initial "fuzzy", less focused Midnight Channel image. And then, there's the more clearer image when someone is actually thrown into the TV, at which point their identity should be obvious. Whether the person can be identified or not from the blurrier image varies early on (e.g. Chie/Yosuke can't, Namatame could, the protagonist can't make out Yukiko's image). But as the Investigation Team talk to one another and share info, they all quickly begin to identify who the mystery figures are.

Adachi's introduction to the Midnight Channel

When Adachi puts Mayumi into the TV, he isn't portrayed as freaking out because he can touch the TV. He says he wants to scare her, then he backs her into the TV and grabs her, and he's surprised that her whole body can go in. The implication here seems to be that he knew he could touch the TV, but he didn't know he'd be able to fit her whole body inside.

After this flashback, he has some lines where he talks about the Midnight Channel.

Some people seem to think these lines are talking about the flashback with Mayumi, but, I disagree. In the Mayumi flashback, Adachi isn't freaking out about being able to touch the TV for the first time. Again, his shock is that a person can go in.

He does say this on December 7th where everything else he says seems really over exaggerated, made up, or just straight up lying, but I don't think this part is 100% bullshit because it comes up again later on during the true ending.

First off, when Adachi sends you the letter at the end, I don't think he's lying about anything he says here purely because of the context of which he sends you it. His game is over and there is no need to act like a Tough Guy anymore. In his letter, he again mentions "rumors at the station", and also that he heard about it before he heard about it at the station.

And next, "reaching out and touching the screen" is something that seems to be a common thing between the ones who Izanami gave power. I think Adachi had an offscreen scene where he touched the screen, similar to the protagonist and Namatame. Perhaps the three of them were drawn to do so after receiving power from Izanami?

We know from elsewhere in the game that the Midnight Channel is supposed to show you your soulmate. In actuality, it shows you a person who is on everyone's mind after they appeared their recent media appearances or media mentions. Furthermore, we know from Namatame's flashback that Mayumi appeared on the Midnight Channel, more than likely due to their scandal.

So presumably, Adachi heard about the Midnight Channel (maybe from Izanami?) both shortly after arriving in town and again at the police station. He watches it, sees Mayumi, reaches out and touches the TV, and discovers his hand can go inside. He thinks Mayumi is his soulmate, and goes to the Amagi Ryokan to ask her about the affair. She doesn't give him a good answer, and he decides to use the TV to scare her in someway. Instead, he discovers that her whole body can go in.

Overall, I feel it's pretty safe to assume that Adachi watched the Midnight Channel and saw Mayumi on there. This is the really simple part.

But did he watch it again?

The idea that "Adachi didn't watch the Midnight Channel" feels so "off" because it's part of the player's routine - you go home on a rainy night, you can't even go anywhere else, you watch the TV, and see your friend's Shadow making an ass of themselves. It's so baked into your brain that the idea that Adachi, the guy who claims to have been masterminding everything along!!!!, possibly not watching it just seems wrong.

And yet, because of Adachi's appearance as the fog figure dude in the shopping district, you know he doesn't have all the info. If Adachi showed up on Yukiko, Kanji, and Naoto's dungeon deadlines expecting a dead body despite knowing they were all home safe, then does that not suggest he had no idea who Namatame put in the TV? And furthermore -- does it not also suggest that he did not see them appear on the Midnight Channel...?

I believe that, at best, after Mayumi's appearances, Adachi saw the Midnight Channel a total of 3 times during the plot and this pattern is based entirely on when Dojima is home at night.

My basis for this is that Adachi is Dojima's assistant, and it's noted repeatedly that the police as a whole are very busy now because of the recent murder cases. I think it's pretty fair to assume that if Dojima is not home, he's at the station. And if Dojima is there, then Adachi is also there. This might sound fucking stupid, but the stereotype that, "You can't leave until the boss leaves" is a stereotype for a reason.

In fact, we can actually prove this for two nights. Namatame calls in to the Inaba PD on the very first night that Yukiko appears on the Midnight Channel, which is April 15th, and he gets Adachi on the phone. Dojima is not home at night on April 15th, and the Midnight Channel airs at, well, "midnight". Adachi was stuck at work at 12am on April 15th. You can also assume that despite perhaps having access to a TV at the station, he did not see Yukiko on the Midnight Channel, else why would he show up looking for her dead body while knowing she's home on April 29th?

Furthermore, Dojima and Adachi are also shown to be out working at night time on April 16th, which is another Midnight Channel night:

...aaand then there's no other nights we can actually prove this for cause we're never shown the story from Dojima or Adachi's PoV.

But Dojima and Adachi being stuck at work or out in the field investigating feels significant as I believe it would limit Adachi's ability to watch the Midnight Channel. As the 16th shows, they aren't always actually at the station (access to a TV). And even though December 3rd proves that the conditions for the Midnight Channel are misleading, I don't think there would be an event early on that causes Adachi to rethink this and try watching it without the exact conditions being fulfilled.

Dojima's availability on nights when the Midnight Channel airs

Here is, with screenshots, every night the Midnight Channel airs, where you are either shown a story scene or have free roaming around the house to see if Dojima is there or not. I did not count April 11th even though it's raining that night cause the protagonist doesn't try to watch it. (Also: Maybe the Midnight Channel only appears for people who hear the rumor...?)

And here is what airs on these dates:

April 13: Saki appears; the protagonist, Yosuke and Chie all see her; Namatame later says that he saw her and the image became sharper; Dojima is home

April 14: Unknown, the protagonist doesn't watch it this night; according to Namatame, he saw Saki being attacked by something; Dojima is home

April 15: Saki found dead, Yukiko's outline, Namatame calls

April 16: Yukiko's Midnight Channel program, Dojima and Adachi are shown to be working at night in a cutscene

May 14: Kanji's outline

May 15: Kanji's outline

May 17: Kanji's Midnight Channel program

June 21: Rise's outline; the protag goes straight into his room, there's no free roaming around the house so it's unknown if Dojima was home or not

June 22: Rise's outline; Dojima is home

June 23: Rise's Midnight Channel program

July 26: Mitsuo's Midnight Channel program

September 14: Naoto's outline

September 15: Naoto's Midnight Channel program

So if we follow the "Dojima's nights at home" logic as an indicator to when Adachi could have actually watched the Midnight Channel, then that means he, at best, saw it April 13th, April 14th, and June 22nd. (Plus whenever he saw Mayumi appear which I guess happened off screen / before the story began.)

I'm not sure if he actually watched it on all of those dates, but I believe that Dojima's availability works as an outline for all of the possible nights when Adachi saw it.

And notably, none of these dates conflict with Adachi being the figure in the fog: He shows up in the fog on Yukiko/Kanji/Naoto deadlines, and Dojima is not home when any of those 3 people appear on the Midnight Channel. Oh shit... Maybe I am not going insane... Maybe these things genuinely are related...

Considerations

So what might we be able to learn from the dates when Dojima is home? I think this is where you have to get into weird theoretical wild guesses because the story is not shown from Adachi's PoV. But hey, maybe he did? Here are some possible things to think about:

April 13th...

April 13th is the probably the most straightforward. If Adachi saw the Midnight Channel on April 13th, then he would have seen Saki. So would he have assumed she was his soulmate? Perhaps this is why he happened to catch her at the flood plain with Namatame the next day - he was trying to stalk her around Inaba?

Though while you get the feeling he saw Mayumi and thought she was his soulmate because of how hyper fixated he is on her, he doesn't seem to talk about Saki the same way. But it certainly seems possible and might explain why he was keeping tabs on her to begin with.

April 14th...

This would have been the day that Adachi saw Namatame and Saki together, then Adachi called Saki into the PD, then threw her into the TV. The protag doesn't watch the Midnight Channel on this day, but Namatame and the students at Yasogami High say they saw Saki struggling. This sounds different than the other days when people are first put in the TV (e.g. Yukiko's Shadow advertising her hunt for a hot guy). But it was also a fog / deadline night, so I think something different being shown makes sense. (After all, part of the protagonist's routine later is watching the TV on the fog / deadline nights to make sure no one is still inside.)

Did Adachi watch it on the 14th? He was actually at the station on the night of the 14th despite Dojima being home. Altho, nothing exactly stopped him from taking her into a room and pushing her into a TV to begin with; who's to say he didn't go off into a room at midnight and watch?

On the other hand, tbh, I think Adachi's appearance as the dude in the fog on the later nights suggests he did not learn that you can see who is currently inside the TV. He knows dead bodies get spit out on fog nights. If he knew there was a way to check if someone was inside the TV on a fog night, why not try checking a fucking TV on the fog nights before walking to the central shopping district and checking manually??? Lmao. I guess there is the possibility of "Adachi saw but did not understand". Tho, I do believe he would have understood that "I am seeing the person currently in the TV" if he had seen Saki on there on the night of the 14th simply cause he is the one who put Saki in.

June 22nd...

This is the weirdest one to verbalize anything about because it doesn't feel like it affects the plot even if he did check the Midnight Channel.

The only other night when Dojima is home is the 2nd time Rise's outline / shadow-y figure appears on the Midnight Channel after she comes to Inaba. And incidentally, Rise's deadline is also one where Adachi does not show up in the fog. The way I see the Rise's deadline incident is that Adachi doesn't show up in the fog because of Morooka's body being found somewhere other than the Central Shopping District.

Let's assume he did see her. I think the simplest read here is that he saw her and might have assumed Namatame would try to "save" her. Thus, knowing this, he did not appear on the fog night because Rise turned up safely already before the fog date, and the police presumably know because Rise says she speaks to Naoto - who is working with the police - after she comes back. (This is more or less my argument on the fog guy post - Adachi shows up on nights where he does not know someone is out of the TV, and he does not show up when he does know someone is out of the TV.)

This might seem weird because of June 23rd, but there is a whole friggin' tangent about that after the tl;dr.

tl;dr

I am being either a dumbass or a genius by using the stereotype about not being able to leave work before your boss, combined with Dojima not being home on certain nights, to try and determine when / if Adachi watched the Midnight Channel.

Using this pattern, there are possibly 3 nights during the game narrative that Adachi saw it - April 13/14 (Saki) and June 22 (Rise).

Curiously, none of these dates conflict with Adachi being the figure who shows up in the fog on dungeon deadlines.

And now, a huge bonus tangent about June 23rd that feels unrelated and related at the same time

Adachi seeing Rise on the 22nd might get a little messy when you consider the player's perception of what happens on June 23rd. It's presented as Dojima getting suspicious of the protagonist on June 22nd after hearing he went to warn Rise, Nanako interrupting their convo at dinner, and then he sends Adachi to follow the IT around on June 23rd.

Then June 23rd happens and Rise gets kidnapped. A lot of people seem to read this scene as Adachi facilitating Namatame kidnapping Rise. So the idea that Adachi saw Rise on the Midnight Channel the night beforehand would conform with this idea as it would mean he knew Namatame was going to kidnap her, and his presence on June 23rd was to help Namatame.

IMO, there are multiple issues with this:

The IT were going to go to Marukyu to stakeout and try to catch the killer no matter what. Their run-in with Adachi at Shiroku didn't encourage them to go or try to bait them into going. Like, they went to Shiroku because they wanted to buy snacks before camping out in front of Marukyu.

The way June 23rd goes down, it is written in such a way that you could remove Adachi from the abduction scene entirely and it would still play out the same way with Rise still getting kidnapped. Yukiko points out the photographer on the pole, Chie points out that he's running away, Kanji leads the charge to capture him, and then everyone follows Kanji. And this happens without any nudging or dialogue from Adachi. The IT are dumb teenagers - they think they got The Guy, and they get ahead of themselves and chase after him.

The idea that Adachi was helping Namatame that day would require Adachi to understand that he sees the same person on TV that Namatame does -- does he know that? Honestly, something about his fixation on Mayumi is actually telling me "no". Although, if he did see Saki on April 13th/14th, then perhaps he did figure that out.

Namatame and Adachi were not shown to be in contact beyond Namatame's phone call to the police. Meaning if Adachi did do this all based on Rise being on the Midnight Channel on June 22nd, then he somehow had to stage the photographer being found at that exact time (remember that Adachi does not point out the photographer) and also stage Namatame driving by (Adachi had a package sent to Marukyu with that delivery time...? Maybe...? Idk how else this would work) to both happen around the same time. And he would have had to do all of these arrangements within [x] amount of time after seeing Rise on the TV on the night of the 22nd... Hmm. Seeing as how Adachi is characterized as being a low effort piece of shit, I find all of these hypotheticals really, really, really hard to believe.

Okay tangent over.

[astronomodome]

Tumblr Poll Tournaments & MCYT

So a while ago I made a post expressing my frustration with the way a lot of tumblr poll tournaments seem to exclude mcyt characters- or if they are included, people in the notes are rude about it. The first situation of these- the poll organizer including rules against submitting characters from mcyt- is something I can easily quantify. I've crunched some numbers in order to find out two things:

How common is this phenomenon, really?

Why does this happen in the first place?

A note before I start: I'm not blaming the poll organizers for this, and I don't want anyone to get angry at them for excluding mcyt. At the end of the day, it's up to them to curate what they want their poll to be, and if they don't want to deal with the toxicity that often comes with letting mcyt characters run (or if they just don't like it for whatever reason), that's their decision. Trust me- poll organizers have to put up with a lot of shit already, and I don't want to add to it, regardless of their opinions on mcyt. If any poll organizers recognize their own words in the later part of this overview, they can contact me and I'll remove it. This is also why I have chosen not to identify the blogs from which I took the examples- I mean no harm to any poll organizer. They are a symptom of a much larger problem and they haven't done anything wrong except be a little misinformed at worst.

Excluding mcyt characters from poll tournaments really isn't that big of a deal on its own- though it is frustrating- but it does speak to the larger attitude of the general tumblr population towards mcyt. While not without its flaws, this can be used as a metric to measure the extent of this attitude and maybe get a hint of why it exists.

...Please note, also, that most of these polls date back to around March-June 2023, when poll tournaments were a big thing on Tumblr. Not super outdated, but I still should note that opinions might have changed since then.

Also also, be warned that there are examples below of some organizers being pretty toxic! It's not a whole lot, but if you don't want to expose yourself to that, maybe pass on this post!

With that out of the way, let's get started.

Part One: The Numbers

The first thing I decided to do was figure out a rough percentage of how many poll tournaments have a rule that excludes mcyt characters from being submitted. To get a sample batch of poll blogs, I used one of the blogs that pits the winners of tournaments against each other and checked each blog included in that. This ended up being a more tedious process than I had thought, since there's a lot of variation in the way poll organizers, well, organize. I ended up with 123 blogs sorted into three categories.

The first category included tournaments where a rule for or against mcyt characters wouldn't really make sense, for a variety of reasons. Most commonly, the tournament was between letters of the alphabet or animo acids or government agencies, not fictional characters, so I counted them out. There were also a handful of blogs where the contestants were determined by the organizer, not by nomination at all. Combined, blogs that did not fit my criteria made up 60/123 of my samples.

The second and third categories were the blogs that either had a rule against mcyt characters, or didn't. Most of the blogs I looked through had rules I could find, and some were more thorough about it than others. For my purposes, I counted the blog as a no only if they explicitly had a rule against mcyt characters, or clarified later that they weren't allowed. Most poll blogs didn't mention mcyt at all. (This will become relevant later.)

Of the 63 blogs that fit my criteria, 11 (17.5%) of them had a rule against mcyt characters, while the remaining 52 (82.5%) did not.

To me, this seems like pretty good news! I had honestly expected the percentage of blogs that excluded mcyt to be much higher. This is definitely a good sign! But I wouldn't really jump to assuming that mcyt characters would actually be accepted in all of these blogs. I will explain this in the next part of my research.

Part Two: The Examples

The second thing I wanted to find out with this research was why organizers end up having rules against mcyt in the first place. Is it just the bad reputation the mcyt space has (largely a result of one green man in particular)? Let's look at a few examples of poll rules against mcyt characters. Some of them are from my sample blogs and some of them aren't.

Type 1: Not understanding the difference between real people and characters in mcyt

The majority of the rules against mcyt I saw were of this type, and honestly, it's pretty reasonable. It's a pretty major debate in the mcyt community over whether mcyts' characters are separate enough from their content creators to count as fictional. However, there are a considerable number of mcyt characters who are explicitly stated to be different from their cc in the same way as a character in a movie played by an actor is different from the actor playing them. Excluding all mcyt characters for being 'real people' is just incorrect, though I can kinda understand where the organizers were coming from with this one.

It should also be noted that the vast majority of poll blogs had a rule against submitting real people. There's a possibility that some poll organizers might have lumped mcyt characters as real people even if they didn't specify it explicitly. Therefore, an attempt to actually submit an mcyt character into one of these tournaments might be against the rules based on what the organizer thinks. I have no way to quantify this, which is why I said earlier that the results of my initial test might not be accurate.

Type 2: 'Problematic fandom' (toxicity warning for some of these)

This type of rule is usually broader than just mcyt, but lumps it in with other fandoms known for being associated with bigotry (often hp, which is... yeah i'm definitely not going to argue in favor of harry potter but yikes. really? we're as bad as terfy potter? really.) At least one of them let dsmp characters in with the exception of dream, which is a lot fairer than... some of the others.

If we want to give the organizers benefit of the doubt here, we can say that these rules are made to keep the poll less toxic than it would be otherwise... but to be perfectly honest, some of these might be more about that phenomenon of purity culture that has had a habit of popping up in fandom spaces since forever. That's a whole other conversation I'm not ready to have now, but it comes as no surprise to me that mcyt has become a little taboo in some places (likely to a large extent because of dream and all the drama he's generated). There's also no telling whether the poll organizers in these cases even know that there are other smps besides dsmp... but that's besides the point, since there are other dsmp characters that aren't associated with dream at all. Excluding them reveals a misconception about the mcyt genre anyway. And of course, I think we can all agree that some of these are just pretty rude.

Which brings us to our conclusion.

I feel like a lot of the toxicity towards mcyt as a genre and mcyt characters boils down to people either not really understanding what mcyt is (i.e. mcyt -> minecraft youtubers -> real people) or hearing stuff about dream and assuming the entire mcyt space is reflective of that. Of course, it's a frustrating issue that some people think this way. I think it's nice to be reminded, though, that this sort of thing isn't very widespread. Alongside the bad examples, I saw a lot of organizers confronting their preconceived notions: one organizer let in an mcyt character after admitting their 'unfamiliarity with the source material', another allowed mcyt characters 'on the condition that you can explain how they are a separate character' and a few others fiercely defended mcyt characters against toxicity in their polls. Every day we grow as a community and we can't let a few people with misguided notions of what we are keep us down. Keep watching, keep creating, and as Zedaph once said, It's okay to be silly!

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hi there. I’m not really sure what to write here. I’m a long time listener but a first time writer I guess? I’m sapio as far as I’m aware, but recently I’ve been wondering about that. I’ve always felt different to everyone else, and recently that feeling of being different has become feeling Different with a capital D if that makes sense? I hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries by asking this- and please feel free to not reply if so or if you’ve already answered a very similar question- is there any way I can look into whether I am a member of the Creature Community? Thank you for reading my letter and any advice you can give:)

[also OOC MA and this blog have really helped me get through some tough times so thank you so much <3]

My dear reader, I assure you, it isn't overstepping boundaries to explore your own identity! How could it be? It isn't as if identifying as a member of the community is a finite resource. You aren't taking anything away from others by exploring the matter for yourself.

Is anything in particular that makes you think your difference from those around you is specifically liminal in nature. Have you noticed any particular differences in your physicality, or your abilities? Are you sensitive to salt, perhaps, or other thaumaturgically reactive materials? Is there some question about your biological parentage, is there a family history of liminality?

Here at the Nightfolk Network, we have always been fervent supporters of self-identity, and reject all notions of gatekeeping around the community. That being said, the fact is that being a member of the community does actually mean you experience some kind of difference from the sapio norm.

It might be an inherited difference, or an acquired difference; it might be a difference of physiognomy or perspective; some people may even consider themselves members of the community simply on the grounds of their work, their hobbies or their social milieu. I am reminded of a listener who wrote in once after spending some hundred years working as a psychopomp, only to wonder if they still had a place in the community once they retired.

In short, there are about as many ways to be liminal as there are members of the creature community. A general check-up with your GP might be able to shed some light on biological differences. Alternatively, you could go private, and contract a magical practitioner to assess your presence on various planes of being.

If you wish to join our community, you are very welcome to do so. You might explore your own biology and discover some liminality in your DNA, or you might take up a magical practice, look into being turned, or any number of other paths.

A quick word of warning, though: joining the creature community is not a panacea for emotional distress. You say you want to explore your liminality to explain why you feel so “different” to the people around you. But difference is not a problem to be solved. You are not a problem to be solved. And belonging to a community – any community – is so much more than meeting some arbitrary set of demographic requirements.

By all means, explore your liminality. I only hope you can put the same energy and enthusiasm into connecting with the communities to which you already belong.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]