#also i hate that “suicide is a sin” bullshit

[anime-villian-irl]

Me and Tommy are twins , both of us are passively/actively suicidal

[momentomori24]

I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

[kikitakite]

@fantasyfictionfables

I was going to reblog some of your posts because I wanted to discuss your takes on Mystra, but then I found out you're a Christian conservative who hates gay people.

No gay person thinks their sexual orientation is their identity, but it's absolutely PART of their identity, just as being straight is part of yours. You can claim otherwise, but it determines who you might love and marry and that person will one day become a part of you and your identity. It's inevitable. As a wife and mother of three, you should know that better than anyone.

But people from groups like yours shame gay people for exploring that part of themselves and that's why Pride Month exists. Pride isn't "propaganda". It's about marginalized people showing the world they exist and they're not ashamed of it. Parades are also a great way for gay people to meet each other. My bestie met her wife at a march 15 years ago and they've been together ever since. It's beautiful. They have two happy, gorgeous children who wouldn't exist without Pride, because their moms never would've met.

Pride also raises money to help gay teens who've been cast out of their homes and gay refugees who've had to flee their country because being gay is illegal there. It also provides support for gay people who need medical help, therapy for abuse, suicide prevention and more. It's a safe space for people who are often discriminated against and even KILLED just for being who they are. So sorry that seems to bother you.

Your take isn't brave, it's just ignorant and hateful. You didn't have to write that post. Nothing provoked it. You just WANTED to to air your allegiances. And then you turned off comments and reblogs lmfao. For the majority of the year, gay people survive just like us straights. They go about their day and don't even mention being gay. You picked the one month in the entire year that's dedicated to them to complain about their existence and call them "deranged". And then you have the audacity to say you "bear no ill will" towards them? Bullshit.

I can only assume the word "pride" scares you because you're a Christian and it's a sin, am I right? Well here's something ironic: lust is also a sin, yet your entire blog not only consists of Gale thirst posts, but you're also stealing Tim Downie's voice to make audio clips using AI. Hmmm, I wonder if God would approve of a married woman posting NSFW content and using a man's voice for her hedonistic writings without his consent. 🤔

And by the way, as a veteran DnD player I can tell you right now that Mystra has done some absolutely VILE shit to her followers. She's not perfect. None of the gods in DnD are. They're flawed and often cruel. I've seen you compare Mystra and Gale to stories in the Bible, but that almost feels blasphemous. Mystra has a history of evil deeds. She orchestrated Elminster's rape, made sure he had kids and never told him about them. She turned Volo into an anchor without his knowledge. She tortured a peasant because he refused to sleep with her, then killed his wife and punished him for crying about it. And don't even get me started on the "daughters" she created. The third Mystra (who has Mystra and Mystryl's memories) is cruel to Gale as well and the game gives so much context for that. Plus ALL the companions agree she's unreasonable and tell Gale to reject her, and if he does it leads to one of his most satisfying endings. He's happy, he's a teacher, he marries tav and everyone approves. Your way of playing isn't the only right way and people aren't wrong for criticizing Mystra. There's plenty about her that deserves to be criticized, as is the case with every god in the pantheon.

Speaking of, I have nothing against Christians, but I do when they use their faith to shame people and act like total hypocrites.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/3/2024

having a lot of fun with toddler enrichment activities in this household, until we bit through the bag and the foil and the water and hated that experience

listening

fun citypop version of Good Luck Babe! by Amandumb and Sakura Wine, “ganbatte” scans to “good luck babe” SCARY well. this is both off a tiktok my best friend sent me and the spotify recommended weekly

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reading

quite frankly this makes me nervous and i am backing up my blogs as we speak. i sort of believe them when they say that we won't see a difference on the front end, but this is a HUGE migration. SOMETHING is going to go not perfectly.

William Greenleaf's TIME JUMPER (1980, 224p) and Joe Millard (my beloathed)'s Blood For A Dirty Dollar (1980 European reprint of a 1973 American book, 156p). thank you philip. time jumper is from a thrift store somewhere (possibly from the free book shelf at the umass engineering library) and the cowboy book is from ebay. they lied about the condition and the heavy smoke smell so i ended up getting it for free :) in no world is that a Very Good condition book!!!

time jumper! i do not think the back cover blurb (below) is very accurate.

COMBINED DESTINIES! One Earth of the far future, city dwellers live in a technologically advanced environment, while bands of nomads barbarically hunt and farm the plains. Hidden within the city is Erin, a crazed scientist, who is constructing a timejumper. On the plains is a nomad boy who quests after the city's secrets. Unknown to both, an evil force works to keep them apart, for it knows that if they ever meet, a new Earth destiny would be inevitable!

i looooove a bubble city. i love long lingering shots of technology and city-scapes and city politics. i would not call the nomads barbarians, bc they are a trading society who set up crop irrigation in their seasonal fields and have a giant traveling library with card catalogue. i would also not call Erin crazed or hidden, bc he is the richest man in the city. reclusive, yes. single-minded, yes. pretty sane though. he is a little person and i think the book handled this fairly deftly for 1980? most of his obstacles are physical and not societal. finally, the evil force is not working to keep them apart bc it doesn't even know about the outside kid. they mostly just want to stop anyone from leaving.

now that we know the back blurb is lies, what's the deal with this book? mostly wrestling with how automation leads to a loss of purpose and flattening of culture, breaking cycles, cyclical natures of histories thereof, and repeating old sins. however, one of the more frustrating endings ive ever read with the very last paragraph containing the suicide of a minor character. we simply didn't fucking need that last paragraph.

i found the dialogue a little bland but book overall quite evocative. it felt like a sixties scifi show constructed from castoff theater sets. it felt like this screenshot from rollerball. a lot of shapes. a lot of giant gardens. a lot of flattened textures.

i also liveblogged the cowboy book here. we've previosuly looked at the one with the balloon and the jailbreak but this is the one with the mad englishman and the imported castle and the missing scientists. i love a description of Legally Not Lee van Cleef Because We Don't Have A Royalty Agreement

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watching

X-Men: First Class (2011, dir. Vaughn) was way more fun than i was expecting??? it's fun to watch these with my bestie's husband who is a fairly intense x-men fan and Will pause the movie for several minutes to explain why a specific character's death was fucking bullshit or answer one of my stupid costuming questions

-

playing

the new mesoamerican fire-aligned nation of Natlan is out in genshin impact! VERY beautiful region even though i think it is a crime, to me personally, to show me a village of observation balloons and then tell me i can't actually go there for six weeks until the next patch.

this is a little bit more of a frustrating experience bc my tolerance for the least little thing going wrong is at record lows. once you hit 100% on a map region it feels more like a true 100% ing the area, which is a little scary bc this usually means you have anywhere from 10-20% more Stuff to do and find and collect. one quest is straight up bugged for me (very unusual) and i cannot get a specific mechanic (the yunkasaur, the little green pokemon lookin motherfucker above, flame spitting) to fire with any sort of accuracy. why have a sight and a center pip if you CANNOT aim it.

some parts of the map look a little more seussical than others.

to whoever made sure this observation balloon lined up with the window when you entered this waypoint building, i see you. thank you.

-

making

fallow week.

[nerves-nebula]

I’m not religious but I guess now that I’ve named myself after Judas i might as well talk about how I feel about the guy

See one thing I never understood growing up (keep in mind this is all from a catholic midwestern perspective) was ppl saying Judas went to hell

first of all he killed himself for what he did??? Clearly he wasn’t super happy about it. Clearly there was more going on there. He was ashamed he was repentant. He didn’t even use the money, didn’t he like throw it on the ground or something?

(no I never bought into the idea that suicide is a sin and even if it was I thought the whole conceit was that Jesus died for us so that we could go to heaven even though we’re dirty sinners. so what’s the big deal?? Also how do Mortal Sins even make sense as a concept if the WHOLE POINT IS THAT JESUS DIED TO GIVE US A CHANCE LIKE HOW CAN YIU WORK THROUGH BEING MEAN IN THE AFTERLIFE BUT NOT BETRAYAL OR MURDER WHATS EVEN THE POINT THEN- anyway back to Judas-)

Like just from that alone there’s clearly more going on here than Judas just being a tricky bitch.

One idea I like is that Judas had to do this. Because Jesus had to die, Jesus knew he did, he’s known it from the beginning. We the audience knew he did, that’s the whole reason he was born. To be PERSECUTED and to DIE.

My christian roommate doesn’t buy this, says that God could have multiple plans to get to the point of Jesus dying but that’s a total cop out to me. It’s stupid and I hate it.

Judas did what he had to do, he did what Jesus needed to be done. It wouldn’t have been the same without the betrayal.

Jesus would’ve forgiven him so how come his followers never seem to. Stupid bullshit religion can’t even understand their main premise when faced with a prime example of a guy who did something bad and regretted it.

Anyway none of this is based on theological research. I’ve barely even read the Bible. This is based on my experience in the actual living Catholic Church and the way ppl there regarded Judas. It’s also based on my memory so maybe not everything here is true to the actual story the way it’s written, but it’s true to how I remember receiving it in church so. Eh.

[automatismoateo]

I started pretending that I believe just to stop being harrased it sucks. via /r/atheism

I started pretending that I believe just to stop being harrased, it sucks. Over 80% of my country is Christian. I grew up going to church with my grandmother at least twice a week until I was 18. It wasn’t all bad. I learned moral lessons, like you can in any religion, but I could never accept the idea of an all-powerful god who picks and chooses who gets miracles while others suffer. Losing my father to suicide at 19 was the breaking point. He wasn’t perfect, but in the cult environment I was raised in, he was my link to a more open minded world. Thanks to him, I learned that being gay wasn’t a sin or something to be ashamed of and that there was more out there than what the church preached. When he died, I saw the judgment in people’s eyes. No one said it outright, but I knew they believed he was going to pay for it in hell, since suicide is a sin. There was no kindness, just silent judgment, no one offered a helping hand towards me. That was it. I became an atheist and turned to philosophy for peace. Being openly atheist is awful (I don't talk about it, only answered the truth when asked), especially in the work environment. Most of my coworkers constantly preach about church, only to turn around and act in ways completely against what their religion is about. If asked, I used to say I was agnostic to avoid debates, but that also didn’t help since they still saw an opportunity to "save my soul" and converter me or whatever goes through their heads. So now I just lie and say I’m Christian. I know enough from my young days to fake it and bullshit my way through conversations and avoid the harassment. I hate it, but that’s just how things are I guess. Just venting a bit I guess, thanks for your time. Submitted March 13, 2025 at 12:32AM by Paime (From Reddit https://ift.tt/HDuUNEg)

[sgt-mark-smith]

Who's gonna whine about the pregnancy arc yet again? That's right, it's meee!

Spoilers, as always

We're going in bullet points cuz with every rewatch I hate the pregnancy subplot more and more, buckle the fuck up:

It helps vilify Cissy for not liking Arthur and frame his later rejection of her as a kind of karma. She should be allowed to just ... not be into a guy, and it shouldn't be a sin for which she's essentially punished by the narrative! It really feels like the show's out here saying "lol she thought she was too good for a nice guy who liked her, now she's pregnant and needs him for convenience and he gets to dump HER stuck up ass!" Not cool, show, not cool!

It's got some uncomfortable race dynamics, at least for me as a Black American. That it's her brown lover who's the only one who has sex with her (one time, at that) AND gets her pregnant? Maybe this isn't a problem for Maori men in New Zealand, but where I live, Black American and Latino men's imagined hypersexuality (down to stereotypes about fertility and even dick sizes) are a racist cultural myth that helps fuel their dehumanization. In keeping with the 'white womanly purity' bullshit, it helps set up this image of the brown male predator who deflowers and impregnates chaste white women. I also don't like that it now makes Manaaki guilty of the same sin as his own shitty father, even if by accident! God I hate it.

The way Awa suddenly gets weirdly male-centric about it. Yes, it was Awa who suggested an abortion, but that was before Cissy told her the baby was Manaaki's. After that you'll notice it's all "My brother's son has a new father" or (after Cissy admits to being desperate enough to CONSIDER ATTEMPTING SUICIDE) "And kill my brother's son?" What the fuck! If there's any woman in this show who hasn't centered men, it's Awa, what's up with this? Yeah I get that a lot of women 'make exceptions' for the men closest to them and Manaaki is clearly Awa's exception, but this feels like a really weird extension of that and it rubs me the wrong way. It's giving enmeshed boy-mom behavior?

(How the fuck do you even figure the baby's gonna be a boy, Awa?! The fact that it turns out to be a boy later is by authorial fiat, it's not like you have foresight or something!)

Anyway! That's what I don't like about the pregnancy subplot. God I hope I can actually get people in this fandom to, like, debate me and point shit out to me that I'm getting wrong or smth.

[xthunderbolt]

Servamps might be victims of their respective sin - a kind of a [longish] theory

So we've seen how each servamp seems to have a certain quirk, and you'd think that they come from the sin that was assigned to them. Like Hugh acting all high and mighty because he's Pride, Lily stripping because he's Lust, Ildio being hungry because he's Gluttony and so on.

But the thing is that Servamp already showed us that those sins aren't what they seem. All of them came from traumas - or what we were shown till now were, and we might learn about Gluttony now too.

But listen.

What if those sins were assigned to them because they're actually victims of them?

You know like, Kuro is a victim of sloth. Hugh is a victim of pride. Jeje is a victim of envy. Freya is a victim of wrath. Lawless is a victim of greed. Ildio is a victim of gluttony. Lily is a victim of lust.

And their quirks not only come from that thing - that trauma, but what if the reason they persisted was because that was the last thing they felt as humans?

For example look, Kuro is Sloth, yeah? And says he wants to die. It's true that in the last few chapters he didn't say it with words, but look at his body language. He still feels that way. I mean I know that recovery doesn't happen so quickly - and I'm actually happy that Tanaka makes this seem so realistic - but the fact that it's still there it's what matters now.

Sloth, laziness, wanting to die are things that people assign to mental illnesses. Depression especially. And look, I know this shit is wrong, but just ignore what people say about depression, I'm just trying to explain things from everyone's perspective, in as simple words as possible.

So you know how those shitty people always say that depressive people are lazy, yeah? And let's remember that during Kuro's era, when mental illnesses were unheard of and unknown, things were even worse than a simple laziness. Hell, some people were even seen as possessed but whatever, back to our story.

And so maybe Kuro went through those things and died of suicide. And I think that because look at his smile here for a bit, especially his eyes.

Doesn't it seem sad? Doesn't it look like a sad smile? Or a hurt smile, however you wanna see it. To me it seems like a goodbye smile. It's that kind of smile that says "I'm sorry" or "Forgive me." It's like the kind of smile that people give you before they... kill themselves.

And so Kuro wants to die because that's what he felt in his last moments as a human.

And all these things also go for the other servamps, like...

Hugh, a victim of pride - a child who was victim of pride. If he's really a child and not just some man with a disease that makes him smol. But as a child, maybe his parents were these prideful people who made him feel as if he's never enough and has to always try his best to be better than everyone and reach their expectations. And so this wish, this need of his to be seen and recognized for his worth, or as someone who's strong, transfered into this need to be seen and recognized as someone who makes everyone "tremble and shiver" before him, because that's what he felt until his last breath as a human.

Ildio, a victim of gluttony, is always hungry because that's the last thing he felt as a human - hunger. I don't have enough info about him to theorize a potential lifestyle, but he could even have been starved by an asshole or something similar, who knows?

Then there's Lily, oh dear. Lily, who might be a victim of lust, a victim of sexual abuse, someone who shows his body because in his last moments as a human he didn't care about it anymore. He didn't care about himself anymore. In his last moments as a human he just felt like an object meant to be used and thought "if my body is meant to be used, then I'll give it to you myself". And yes, that's common in rape or sexual abuse survivors. Don't trust those those movies or stories who tell you that they only cry in the shower and don't let people touch them. It's bullshit. You won't even recognize a rape survivor unless you look very closely at their behavior.

But there's also another quirk Lily has. Taking care, protecting, saving children. And I'm sorry if I triggered or will trigger someone with this, but I think that this comes from sexual abuse too. The abuse might have started as a child and so now he wishes to prevent other children from going through what he's been through.

Next.

We don't know much about Jeje yet, but as a victim of Envy, I just hope he wasn't killed because sometimes envy can do that to people. It's also sad to think about.

Freya, a victim of wrath, omg I'm scared to even think about what horrors she might have been through as a victim of wrath. Might have been something so cruel that it turned her into this tenebrous looking woman. Something that took away her light and left her looking ready to murder, when she's in fact not angry, she's cool. She's cool, just hurt.

And all the servamps are just hurt like that and I'm not even surprised that some of them hate the fact that they've been brought back to life so much. They're basically reliving, refeeling, their traumas every single day. And they do it under the label that brought them that suffering. They're like reminders of the nightmares they've lived rather than some fancy, cool titles.

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 252, Replies Part 2

1) “I like how Bakugo is all “I don`t care about this family drama bullshit” looking away while still clearly paying the uttermost attention to what`s going on. Fucking Tsundere.”- Bakugou has never made any actual input or moving speech to Shoto’s family drama like Izuku has, but he’s deeply and perpetually involved in it nonetheless simply because he cares that much about somebody he considers a friend and rival, even if he’s never say it and would bite their windpipes out if they tried saying it for him 2) “That`s great right there, it`s a far cry from how other characters in other stories got away just by saying they had changed”- Endeavour’s character is a fascinating contrast to paragons like Izuku and Yagi. A man muddied by the mistakes of his past, who is not a natural-born hero but can still fulfil the role of the country’s best through diligent effort and unrelenting willpower, a man flawed and contemptable, but also strikingly noble and selfless at times when you least expect it. He really comes across as a human character, one that doesn’t have some great destiny or monumental charge placed upon him, yet nonetheless struggles because of his own hubris and past failures. Izuku is the ultimate cinnamon roll, but guys like him are one in a million, acting as paragons of what we wish we could be all the time, whereas somebody like Endeavour reflects the myriad mistakes that everybody makes going through life- the part of ourselves we’re not proud of, and wish we could take back now we’re older and wiser- and at the same time, also showcases the parts of ourselves that make up our best qualities, that allow us to be our best selves without forgetting where we went wrong before and must never do so again.

(MHA ch 250)

3) “Let`s learn how many more kids Endeavor ended up killing, on Chapter 250: Ending.

…

Huh. Interesting tittle…”- Well, he certainly was the ‘ending’ of something. That something being Endeavour’s futile wish of being part of his family’s life again.  Probably for the best he nearly killed Natsuo after all.

4) “Oh right, we were smack in the middle of the Todoroki hurricane, and my god is it being a complete mess. Well, Natsuo put it on the open as well, he wants his family to be happy, he wanted to be able to do the same as his siblings, but he just can`t, and that`s fine.”- Natsuo knows the dream of his family being happy together is the correct one to wish for, but he also knows that it’s right that Endeavour’s sins should not be glossed over by them all, no matter how miserable it makes them to remember, and thus he’s caught between two opposing ‘rights’, uncertain of which one to choose, whether to make his family happy, or take the moral route and stick to his guns about hating Endeavour for his mistreatment of them, even if it upsets the rest of his family.

5) “Well Natsuo, for starters, the usual sense of the situation implies that he will try to atone, which means he`ll be spending the rest of his life trying to make up for his sins, until the day he dies. So, in a way he can`t tell what he`s going to do, but rest assured he intends to do it forever.”- Endeavour has no way to know what tomorrow will bring, or even where he’ll be years from now. He just knows that wherever he is, he’ll never forget the lessons he learned far too late to fix his family, and that’s really all he can promise Natsuo at this point.

6) “fuck`s sake, I forgot Ending was there- Dude please, let the Todoroki`s do their thing right now, your contribution is over, kindly shut the fuck up I want to see the angst going up on this shit”- Ending’s got plenty of Angst going on himself over his second failed suicide attempt- sadly his has no way to stack up against the mountain of angst that is the Todoroki family, and all the assembled parties present frankly couldn’t give a toss about him one way or another. Not even Izuku’s gonna try and reach out to help a guy who’s so blatantly selfish about his decision to off himself and make himself the centre of somebody’s world for a moment before he shuffles off the mortal coil. If he wanted some help with his life and to get better, then maybe Izuku would try, but Ending has no interest in being ‘saved’, he just wants to get his excuse to bow out of the stage of life, and thus not even the smol cinnamon roll has any interest in trying to give this villain some much-needed therapy.

7) “Midoriya: IT`S THE COPS, SCATTER!

Bakugo: The fuck are you on about?

Midoriya, shaking away the memories of Hosu: Sorry, force of habit.

Bakugo: What the- Wait a moment, where`s the half-half fucker?

Cue to both of them looking back and seeing that todoroki is already two blocks away, still running like hell.”- That’s twice now that Todoroki’s taken down a villain with his father nearby and the old man is likely the one that the public will attribute to stopping the crazy lunatic, regardless of the actual facts. Sure, this time there were witnesses, but the kids were operating under Endeavour’s supervision, so they’ll likely assume they moved based on how he ordered them to.

8) “Mostly out of the streets, eh? Interesting… Almost like some sort of crawling Vigilante spent  a long time battling against the drug dealers that sold it, until he tragically died taking down the last Trigger factory, unknown to society, and the last few remnants of the drug were later taken down alongside the Yakuza, right? Right?”- Just because you stop them making more drugs, doesn’t mean there aren’t any still in circulation and storage by criminals who’re saving the power boost for a rainy day. Koichi’s likely fully wiped out the trigger factory by this point in the timeline, but him removing every single vial of trigger already on the market by himself is simply too tall an order. The only thing that can be done is to wait it out, as said drugs gradually dry up or turn up in related police/hero busts on villains.

9) “OH WAIT WE`RE GONNA HEAR BAKUGO`S HERO NAME?

DEADASS?

NO I MEAN, NOT THAT I THINK IT`S GONNA BE DEADASS- NEVERMIND THAT, IT`S GONNA BE KACHAN, RIGHT?”- That’s ‘Massacre Count Deadass’ with Bakugou’s naming sensibilities if so.

10) “WELL FUCK YOU TOO BAKUGO, I DIDN`T EVEN WANTED TO HEAR IT ANYWAY

AND DOUBLE FUCK YOU FOR NOT LETTING YOUR OL` BUDDY PAL-PAL SHOTO HEAR IT, HOW DARE YOU, I THOUGHT HIS FRIENDSHIP WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS”- So, the one thing we know with absolute certainty from watching Bakugou this far throughout the story is that he is one stubborn and dedicated punk. If he says he’s going to do something, no matter how impossible, then he’ll push himself to the limits and beyond to achieve that goal like he claimed, turning his arrogant bravado into a badass statement of intent. Therefore, we can guarantee that we won’t be hearing his hero name for a ‘long’ time, given he’s sworn to tell Best Jeanist it first before anybody else, and he’s not gonna find out Jeanest’s fate for at least 3 months’ worth of time, given how Hawks has to keep what he did a secret whilst infiltrating the PLF to preserve both his public image as a hero and his true status as the mole. Either way, there’s going to be some awkward confrontations happening once Hawks finally spills the beans, because you can tell the Icarus analogue is burning up inside from the guilt of having to keep the truth about Jeanest a mystery around those who care about him.

11) “Oh? We`re already done with the training? No, Endeavor said they would keep coming regularly, right?”- I think either Endeavour’s getting his affairs in order to move his family out of the house, and thus can’t devote too much time to their training, or he’s judged that by meeting his challenge, they’ve proved they’re now at the level where they won’t be a burden others during this war, but rather valuable assets. Even without him supervising them, they’ll still be training the skills they developed under him in their own time, so he feels justified in letting them go so he can turn his attention to more personal matters.

12) “And now, another hit of drama, it`s time for him to tell her that he`s leaving. Or at the very least that she also doesn`t need to forgive him, because he already came to terms that he shouldn`t be forgiven. Either one is fine.”- Actually, she’s leaving along with the rest of the family, whilst he stays behind with the family’s personal baggage in their house. Try as she might, that home simply has too many painful memories for the Todorokis as a whole for Fuyumi to turn it into a family home, so it’s simply better for them to move to a new place and start afresh, without any lingering memories getting in their way. This does mean that Endeavour will spend his days living with the ghosts of his family’s past in that house, and being tormented by his regret for what he destroyed, but again, it’s the very least he can do for them.

13) “HOLY SHIT HORIKOSHI DID A MASTER STROKE WITH THIS ONE, HE REALLY WENT THERE AND MY GOD AM I GLAD FOR THAT”- It really is a tasteful resolution to the whole mess- not a permanent solution to their problems, but the foundation upon which the family as a whole can start to really move forward from their past.

14) “Endeavor is still a monster, but holy shit must I say how much more I respect Horikoshi on this particular case. He had a lot of missteps and fuckups writing this series, sure, but I think that on this particular case he got shit right. Truly wonderful to see it being handled like this.”- When he sticks the landing, Horikoshi really makes an impactful statement, and its themes like this in a popular mainstream manga series that make me interested in how Horikoshi’s work is affecting public opinion in places with closed and rigid mind-sets like Japan. Obviously, he won’t cause a complete shift in the way the majority handle similar cases, but young people reading his story will grow up leering the lessons he preaches and challenging opinions that their elders take at face value, which will have a knock-on effect down the line-and he’s far from the only manga writer to be doing stuff like this. Truly, storytellers have more power than most people realise. @thelreads

[exmo-freakshow]

a rant (CW: mentions suicide, religious trauma, and queerphobia)

I love the church I grew up in but I also hate it. I grew up feeling accepted by a wonderful community. Now I can't tell how deep their kindness goes. I feel like I have to hide my identity in order to be accepted, because I am unsure if my church leaders would ostracize me - strip me of privileges, or tell me I lack faith or that I've been deceived - if I lived truthfully. Church leaders speak words that are 99% beautiful and uplifting and 1% scary or offensive. The church spends millions on humanitarian aid while spending billions on stocks, real estate, and lobbying. It shaped my life for the better. It's now arguably making my life worse.

I love the BYU/Provo community but I also hate it. People are incredibly friendly and invite you to parties and bring you food and also whisper the word “queer” like it's a dirty word. They'll talk so much about loving everyone - and they really try! - but see any act of acceptance as "condoning sin". They are quick to serve but they also speak of people who have left the church or identify as LGBTQ+ or struggle with addictions with a strong "hate-the-sin-love-the-sinner" tone. They are very wholesome and will defend their values to their dying days yet many will bristle at being told to wear a mask. Many of them have never met a Black person before, or a queer person, or a person who is not a member of the church. They are essentially the only friends I have. I love them. I hate it.

I love BYU itself but I also hate it. It’s given me an amazing education, and its tuition is very affordable for anyone - and through scholarships, it’s technically paid me to attend. But its standards are in many ways absurd. Modesty I can understand, to a point, but a ban on beards? no colored hair? and don't even get me started on the ban on "homosexual behavior" or the outright transphobia/enbyphobia. It offers free counseling and formed an official committee for diversity and inclusion yet condemns groups for shining rainbow lights on Y mountain, refuses to issue a statement after a church leader told students to resist LGBT inclusion with proverbial "musket fire", refuses to change a problematic honor code even after sustained protests, and boasts a student body of which a whopping 0.4% are Black. In a year and a half or so I will get my degree from BYU. My time here will shape my life forever. It already has - in good ways and bad.

I love Mormon doctrine but I also hate it. There are so, so many wonderful elements to it - eternal families, personal revelation - but also enough about its shaky history - polygamy, child marriage, racism, queerphobia - that it can be hard to balance. It talks about how God’s love is unconditional but then sets conditions on how to feel that love. Much as it repeats "you don't need to be perfect," it's easy to feel like you can never measure up. And its only answer to not feeling the way you're supposed to - having doubts, not feeling like your prayers are being answered - is to just keep going. Don’t trust outside sources, they could lead you astray. Throughout my life, through my mission, it gave me hope and comfort. But when questions came, it had few answers, and when the depression and mental health struggles came, there were fewer answers still. And then, when at the ripe old age of almost 23, I finally realized I was queer, it seemed like the nail in the coffin given the Church's history and vague doctrine surrounding queerness.

I love God but I also hate Him. I still fundamentally think He exists, and that He had a hand in my life once upon a time. When I was a child, and occasionally as a missionary, I truly felt He loved me and guided my life. I loved Him back and did the things that Mormons do not because I felt I had to, but because I loved God. But it seemed like His love and closeness expired when I hit 16. Although I did not doubt God’s existence, everything was suddenly harder, and answers to prayers seemed few and far between. And then shortly after returning from missionary service, everything stopped. I was struggling with my identity and with burnout - if there was one time I needed God's love and help, it was then, but He was gone. I nearly ended my life because I felt so abandoned. It’s been a year. There’s been no indication that He cared, or was there at all. I love God for what I truly believe He's done for me in the past. I resent Him a little now.

It's General Conference time, when Mormons everywhere tune in to watch church leaders give sermons for 10 hours or so over the course of two days. It's a big deal, especially around here where you'd be hard-pressed to find a non-Mormon within a mile radius. Everyone's excited. It's wonderful. It's also conflicting, and terrifying, for some of us. I've listened to 1.5 hours or so of the 6 hours that broadcasted today. Some of it resonated with me. Some of it made me feel sick. The same thing that used to make me feel so loved is now the thing that often makes me feel unloved.

That's the end of my rant. I want to use this blog for fun rather than an outlet for religious trauma and identity crises, but with my roommates blasting Conference on the living room TV, my social media full of #ldsconf and stylized quotes, and virtually no non-Mormons in sight, it's what's inevitably on my mind. Hopefully in a few days my brain will be off its bullshit and back onto its desired path of shitposting and memes.

[delusionalteenagewhispers]

Get Away Driver

Fandom: The Devil All The Time

Pairing: Arvin Russell x Reader

Part of a Series: Yes or No

Warnings: Spoilers! Don't read if you haven't watched the movie!/Lots of Angst/Some fluff/Mentions of death/Blood/Murder/Mentions of abuse/Mentions of Rape/Cussing/Gun Violence/Mentions of suicide/Mentions of baby death

Disclaimer: "The Devil All The Time" is not mine, Credit to lovely Creators. GIFS are not mine! Credit to owners! 

A/n: HI! I just watched the movie and it is fucking awesome! And I love Tom Holland and now I’m in love with another character he plays, Arvin Russel! Also, I don’t know if they gave a name to the cop who gave Arvin the news about Lenora being preggers but his name is Howard I’m pretty sure, I had looked it up. If I am wrong don’t come after me. Also I think he was in his very early Twenty’s and he was semi friends with Lenora, Arvin and Y/n. Please do not read if you haven’t watched the movie! I hope you like it! Thank you for reading!!

Summary: Y/n knew the young Russels all her life. She knew Lenora the day she was born, courtesy of both their mother’s being great friends. She met Arvin the day he moved there. Y/n loved Lenora like her own sister and Y/n loved Arvin. So when Lenora took her life and Arvin avenge her going on some type of murder spree, she went after him. To help him. 

Main Masterlist -> Here

Request List -> Here 

-----

“ God damn-it Howard, just tell me what yah told the sheriff. Tell me where the fuck yah think he is. And don’t bullshit me either,” Y/n said staring the deputy down with a hard stare, trying to get much needed information out of him. To find her best friend’s brother, to find her friend, to find the stupid boy she was in love with. 

“ I can’t tell yah that Y/n, yah know that..”

“ And yah know me, and Arvin. And yah knew Lenora too. Arvin was only doing what he needed to do to protect ‘er, to avenge ‘er,” Y/n knew Howard had always liked Lenora but she was too wrapped up in god and running away from the boys that would torment her at school to notice. Sure, Y/n was using that to her advantage but she needed to use all that she had if she was gonna find Arvin. 

“ Don’t yah use that on me, look I care about yah guys. I know Arvin wouldn’t hurt nobody that didn’t deserve it. But I can’t tell yah where he is, and the Sheriff’s got it handled. He can take care of Arvin by himself, he don’t need a girl such as yourself getting in the middle.”

“ But he don’t know Arvin like I do. And that sheriff don’t use ever use his god damn head. I should know with how handled mah daddy,” Y/n and the Sheriff from Knockemstiff weren’t too friendly with one another. Back when Y/n was nothing but youngling, only 13 at the time, Sheriff Bodecker blew the head off her Daddy. Bedecker did protect her and her Mama that night. But Bodecker wasn’t there to help them. He was there for money her father owned him, and the man just wouldn’t give it up. So just seeing the man hit his daughter gave him enough reason to kill him and get his money. Y/n didn’t like how it went down, she’d seen the whole thing. All the yelling and the big shot gun. Got stricken across the face and then, her Daddy being shot. 

“ I just know that Sheriff is gonna do somethin’ to sent ‘im off and Arvin might do somethin’ he gonna regret. Please just tell me where yah think he is. I need to find ‘im Howard. I need to find him before he does somethin’ stupid again. Please.” 

Howard sighs, looking at the young girl in front of him. She was a good friend, he knew that much and he knew her since they were young. Arvin and him weren’t the best of friends, but they knew each other and that was enough. He knew Arvin cared for Lenora deeply and he’d do anything to protect her. And he knew Arvin loved Y/n, the two were so enamored in the other that they didn’t even know they held the same feelings. But with their feeling, he knew that Y/n was the best bet to help Arvin out of the hole he’s dug himself into. 

“ Alright, alright I’ll tell yah. But don’t get yerself killed, Kay?” Y/n nodded happily. 

“ We think he went back to Knockemstiff. Where he used to live as a kid, to his old house or somethin’... Now git, and don’t you tell nobody I to-” He was interrupted by the young girl hugging him tight. 

“Yah won’t regret this, thank you.” And then she ran to her truck and made her way to knockemstiff, hoping she wasn’t too late to stop Arvin from taking another life if he felt he had to. 

----

Shit is a word that Arvin repeated over and over again in his head as the Sheriff pointed his shotgun at him, yelling like a mad man. I mean, Arvin would have done the same thing if his sister was killed and in a way he had when he killed the Preacher. The sick fuck had deserved to die. 

The Sheriff continued speaking, angry and drunk. Wanting so bad to kill the man who killed his sister. So when he finally found his hiding spot, he tried to shoot him wanting the bastard to die, wanting Arvin Russell to die. But sadly, he would not be getting his drunken revenge. The sheriff shot, trying to shoot the young boy only to shoot the fallen tree protecting Arvin and to get shot himself by the German Luger in Arvin’s hand. 

Arvin’s whole body felt shaky after he shot him, he hated the thought that he killed another person, another man. Someone who had family, who had a life unlike the other three he shot and killed. This man was a lawman, and the law would have his head for this. Arvin pulled out a small picture, it was of Sandy Bodecker holding a dead man in her arms. Arvin showed him, so that the Sheriff could see why he had to kill her because if he didn’t, he might’ve of been killed himself. So he sat there as the man died just a few minutes later even though it seemed like hours. Arvin stood up, exhausted and went to grab his Jacket to get ready to take off when he heard his name being shouted by a voice he knew all too well. It was Y/n. 

“ Arvin! Arvin Russel! I know yer out here!” Before Arvin could think, he scrambled behind the fallen tree, hoping she’d go away. He didn’t want to pull her into this, hell he’d left a letter for her too. Hoping his Grandmomma  would have given it to her. The letter was all about her staying away, but she couldn’t even do that. Arvin knew Y/n was too stubborn to listen when she had her mind set. Y/n never listened to reason when she got her mind set on something else. Which in this place was running after him after he said not to. 

“ Arvin please come out! I don’ts got a gun on me or anything. I have money and a truck, I even gots some clothes. I want to help yah. That ol’ sheriff is gonna be here any minute to get yah and I need yah to come with meh.” Arvin realized that she didn’t know the Sheriff already came, and that he shot him. He felt like shit that he was pulling her into this, that she was in this. This mess that he created. 

Arvin knew he couldn’t just sit there, expecting that she’d think he wasn’t there Y/n always knew. Arvin always suspected that she knew him better than she knew himself. He spoke, just wanting so badly for to leave him be so that maybe she could be safe,“ Y/n, I need yah to leave. I uh, I’ve done shit things and I don’t wanna pull yah down with me. Please don’t be stubborn for once in yer life and listen to meh.” He heard Y/n sigh, which meant she was close.

“ Arvin, I ain’t leaving. So get your ass up outta whatever place your hiding in before I make yah.” He sighed, he knew he wasn’t gonna be able to do anything to make her leave. He stood up slowly, time seemed to slow down as tears filled her eyes upon seeing him, running at him and hugging him tightly. Arvin wrapped his own arms around her and rested his head onto her shoulder. 

“ Yah big, dumb, idiot you...” She said quietly, hugging tightly like he might disappear if she lets go. Arvin sighs, feeling a strange sort of comfort in her arms. It reminded him of the comfort he used to have with mother, when she’d hold him or sing that old song ‘Bessie’. She pulled back before looking down to see the dead body, Sheriff Lee Bodecker. 

He heard her sigh,“ Where the Luger?” 

Arvin was surprised by how calm she was, seeing a dead body right in front of her. But then again, he knew Y/n. She’d seen things that even he hadn’t seen and he saw his pet dog being crucified and his Daddy taking his own life with a god damn pocket knife. Arvin looks down at the ground, where he buried his poor dog and his Daddy’s gun,“ I buried it.” 

“ Good, we don’t need nobody else dying cause yer trigger happy.” Arvin nods his head, not really having anything to say. 

“ ‘Kay, go git into the truck, I’ll be up there soon. I need a few minutes to send a few prayers for the man and such.” 

“ Look Y/n, yah don’t have to do thi-”

“ Go git in the truck Arvin. We’ll talk in a few. Just go git in the truck.” Arvin sighed, nodding before making his way up the hill to Y/n’s old black pickup. He opened the door and sat in the passengers seat. He knew he could’ve probably dipped out on her, tried to push her away so that she doesn’t get involved in this mess. But he knew no matter how hard he tried, she would just pop right back. Because she loved him, it was clear to him now that she loved him the same way he loved her. I mean, what kind of girl would drive all that way to knockemstiff just to pick up a boy she knew murdered several people. Girls in love.

----

Arvin and Y/n sat in silence in the truck. Silence reminded Y/n of her Father. How her and him would sit in his black pickup truck, the same one she now drove in. They’d drive in complete silence, to a place where he could have his way with her when she was nothing but a child.

Y/n thoughts started to wonder, wondering if that's what the preacher did to Lenora, took her to a place in his car where he could get what he wanted, blinded by his sinful acts. She’s seen him do it to the Reaster Girl and he once tried to do with her. But she wasn’t stupid enough to get into a car with a man she just met, with a man that reminded her of a man she longed to forget but always stayed ingrained in her brain. 

Men like that are always blinded by sin, no matter how much they say they are a man of god, they are just the devil in disguise using god's name to cover up their tracks for what they do. She thought Lenora would've been safe, but that sadly wasn't god's plan. Arvin stared ahead, trying to keep awake as he tried to figure out something to say when Y/n spoke up," I do this cause I care about yah and yer all I have left. I donts got any family no more. At least nobody in coal creak. Your all I gots left.", the girl had started, causing Arvin to wake up a little. And he looked at her, watching as she gripped the steering wheel, so focused on the road but also focused on making Arvin know her reasons for helping him. For a helping a boy who's killed.

"We aren't blood related but we're friends, we're close enough to be family. Lenora was mah friend, but she was mah family. And what that preacher did, he deserved to die. That man reminded me too much of mah Daddy. I knew he was trouble from the start. I could see the way he did things, it was the same type of things mah daddy did. Those type of men, they always have a pattern. Mah Daddy did, and so did the preacher."

Y/n didn't speak of her father often, sometimes it was too painful to talk about. About the things he did to her and her mother. He'd beat them, and he'd use them in more ways than one. Using them to show off to the world what a man of god he was as the Father of a small Church. Or to use them as servants for his house to be picture perfect, not a thing out of place or there would be a price to pay. Or, he'd use them in the most sinful way of all, through lustful acts. And not just his wife, but his daughter too. Lenora had saved her most times, sneaking her into her home late at night or sometimes in early morning or during the day. And Y/n helped her with the boys at school, trying to get them to leave Lenora alone. It never worked, both Lenora trying to keep Y/n away from her Daddy and Y/n trying to keep Lenora away from the horrid boys at school. But they both tried, and for just that Y/n saw Lenora as family and Lenora saw her as family too.  

" Lenora didn’t deserve what happened to her. She was such a bright girl, she my best friend. She always helped, no matter if it was gonna hurt her in the end. She always helped.” Y/n paused, a small memory forming in her head and then into words.

“ Remember how Lenora used to hide me from mah Daddy? She'd sneak me in the window and yah'd hear it and come running to tell us to shut up before we woke up Grandmomma. Then you’d proceed to act like yah didn’t want me there, only throw one of yer shirts at me telling me it wouldn’t be the greatest thing for meh sleep in mah day clothes,” Y/n spoke, a small smile and chuckle leaving her, Arvin watched it. Watched how a memory with not good things embedded into it made her smile. Arvin never understood how Y/n could get so happy just by a single memory. Even memories that weren’t the greatest. Arvin thought it was probably because she didn’t have many good memories, only a few but they always had some type of her hurt in them but she still cherished them as much as she could. Mostly, all memories she had was her trying to save herself and her depressed mother from her Daddy, so not too many were happy. And because of  all those no good memories, Arvin rarely ever did see her smile like that, smile with really happiness and not just something phony so no one will worry about her. But Arvin knew, he always did. 

He hears her sigh," I wished she would've recognized the signs of a man like that. Of a man like mah father, she knew ‘im, we both pledged to stay away from men like that. But sadly, they always tend to get us one way or another. No matter what their relation is to yah, they always get yah." She pauses, thinking about Lenora for a minute, thinking about how she didn’t deserve that kind of abuse, about how she didn’t deserve to die, to kill herself.

“ What I’m trying to say, is who yah killed, they deserved to die, not the other way around. And thats why I’m helping yah, because yah don’t deserve whatever’ punishment the law’s gonna inflict on yah. You were Lenora’s brother and in a way she was my sister. So I’m looking out for yah, for her.” 

Arvin looked down at his hands, the same ones that held a gun, his Daddy’s gun,“ But aren’t I like those men, aren’t I turning into them? I’ve killed, Y/n. Not just the preacher. I’ve killed another man and a women, I’ve killed the Sheriff.”

“ And why did you kill ‘em?”

“ They were gonna kill me. T-the man had a gun, so did his wife. I shot ’im before he could shoot me and I shot his wife too. I had begged her to put down the gun. B-but she wouldn’t. And the Sheriff, he was gonna kill me cause the wife was his sister. ”

“ See, yah only killed to get rid of the horrible people who only intend to hurt yah. Yah killed with reason, not just cause yah were blinded by sin. And that Sheriff, sure he was a lawman, but he was a bad one. He deserved it as much as his sister. So no, yah aren’t like ‘em. That’s why I love yah, stupid. Because yah aren’t like them.” Arvin looked at her, all she did was stare straight ahead, focusing on the road. Arvin knew she had hard times with saying love. Even just saying love to people who were just family or friends. Love scared her, he knew that. It scared him too. Love to kids like them was a scary thing, because it didn’t come often and when it did it was ripped away from them. Slowly Arvin put his hand on her leg, to give her at least some sort of comfort, some sort of touch and maybe he needed the touch as much as she did too. 

“ I love yah too, yah know.” He said as he looked out the window.

“ I know.”   

-----

“ Put these on.” Y/n spoke throwing a black t-shirt and Jeans at him, the clothes landing on his head.

“ Why?”

“ Cause, they already know what yer wearing. If yah wear something different it’ll be harder to find yah, plus it’ll be better for yah to wear somethin’ cleaner.” Arvin sighed grabbing the clothes Y/n threw at him.

“ Also, I got somethin’ for yah. Here.” She then throws a pack of cigarettes at him. The pack hitting him square in the face making Y/n laugh. 

“ Yah know, yah could always just hand me the stuff instead of throwing it at me.”

“ Well where would the fun be in that?” Y/n said with a smirk and wiggling her eyebrows in a goofy way. It was dark out and Arvin sat in the open back of the truck while Y/n threw stuff at him that she’d packed. Arvin was surprised about how prepared she was. She packed all the necessitates. Like blankets and clothing, even food and water and even money. Arvin was grateful and lucky Y/n came after him, he would’ve been completely lost without her. 

“ Now git dressed. I’ll look away, don’t yah worry.” Then made a show of slowly turning around and putting her hands over her eyes. It made Arvin chuckle, he liked when he saw Y/n like this, all goofy and just plain smiles. It reminded him of Lenora, it reminded him of his mother. 

“ So where did yah get these clothes anyway? They look like mine.”

“ Yeah, I raided yer drawers. Grandmomma helped me too.”

“ She knew yah were going after me?”

“ Yeah, she does. She wanted me to find yah and to make sure yer safe. She said I’d be the only one to keep yer ass in line out here.” There was a moment of silence between the two.

“ I’m done getting dressed.”

“ Finally, I need some well deserved sleep and you are taking up our bed for the night. We’ll find something better tomorrow though.” Y/n hopped on the makeshift bed with all the blankets she had piled onto one another to make it more comfortable than it was on the back of the pickup truck. She laid down and looked up at the sky, a small smile on her face. 

“ Yah aren’t gonna change either?”

“ Oh, uh I uh, I forgot to bring a change of clothes. I was so focused on getting shit for yah and finding yah. I forgot some clothes for myself. But it’s fine.”

“ No it ain’t. Here, wear one of my shirts yah brought, I bet wearing that dress isn’t too comfortable.” Y/n raised an eyebrow at him. 

“ Is this just yer way of getting me to wear yer clothes. Cause yah could always ask.” 

“ Oh shut up and put on the clothes.” Arvin said with a little red starting to creep up on his cheeks, he was thankful it was dark out so she couldn’t see. Y/n laughed as she grabbed one of Arvin’s shirts, it was his white button up church shirt. Y/n had always wanted to try it on, it seemed comfy to Y/n, and it was. When Arvin could finally look, his eyes wanted to pop out of his skull, and in a way they were. There she was, in just undergarments and his white button-up. Arvin always hated that shirt but right then, he loved it. 

“ Alrighty, now it’s time for sleep. We got a lot of driving to do tomorrow cause we are going all the way to Cincinnati.”

“ What’s in Cincinnati?” Arvin asked as Y/n climbed in the back and laid down. 

“ My Uncle lives out there. I gave him a call at one of the phones while you slept in the Truck. He’s gonna keep us for awhile, he’s got an extra room and he’s gonna let us stay until we are able to leave and make a life for ourselves without the cops coming after yah.” She laid down looking up at the sky as she spoke. She never saw her uncle anymore, the man used to live with her and her parents when she was young. But one fateful day at age 10 he moved to Cincinnati and never really kept in contact. Y/n knew his number, always wanted to call him. There were multiple times where she wanted to call and beg him to take her away from her small house in Coal Creak. But she never did. When she called, the man was ecstatic when he heard her voice. He offered her to stay with him before she could even ask. It made her wonder how a man who obviously wanted her to be in his life never kept contact for many years of her life. But she already knew it was probably cause of her Daddy. The man never liked how his brother looked at her Mama and how she looked at him. How he seemed to act like more of a father to Y/n then her own was. 

“ You have an Uncle?”, Arvin asked popping Y/n out of her thoughts as he propped up on his elbow so he could look at her. As he looked at her, he started thinking about how beautiful she was. Even in the dark and with the dirt and the few stray leaves in her hair and even wearing his horrid old church shirt. He still thought she was just plain beautiful. 

“ Yeah I do, he used to live with me when I was younger. He’s a good man.”

“ And does he know what I did?” Arvin asked nervously.

“ I told him, he said it wouldn’t be any different if yah were in the war. Don’t worry, we gonna have a place to go. Yer gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay. I got it handled,” Arvin couldn't explain how he felt in that moment, as he stared at her, knowing how Y/n was always there. Even when they were just kids and he was just plain lonely and to now where she's helping him get away from the law after killing. But all he knew, in that moment, was that he loved her and he wanted to tell her in the best possible way. Love to kids like him and her was a rare thing, so he decided he was gonna act on it. So he kissed her. 

From his propped up position he was able to swoop down and touch his lips to hers as she laid there looking up at the stars. Y/n was surprised at first, not knowing what was happening when realization hit her. Arvin Russell, her best friend growing up, the boy she loved was kissing her. So she kissed him back. Their positions changed through the kiss. Y/n now straddled his lap and her arms circled around his neck, one hand running through the back of his hair. Arvin sat below her, one hand on her hip and the other grasping the side of her face gently. Both putting all their love and passion for one another into that one kiss. They both finally pull away, both of their lips being swollen but big smiles on both of their faces, even Arvin who rarely showed smiles. But that just made Y/n appreciate them that much more.

“ Arvin...,” Y/n started, looking at him with so much love.

“ I love you’ Y/n. And not just as a friend or any of that shit. I love yah, I love you as someone I want by me like my Daddy wanted my Mama.” Y/n looks at him as if he just moved the moon. 

“ I love yah too. Always have, always will,” She speaks, with lovey, dovey tone to her voice before leaning down and kissing him again. Both got aroused fast from their positions and soon they both had one of the best nights of their lives. The lost of both of their innocents. Both of them were each others first and will also be their last.   

-----

It was sunrise when Arvin woke up, Y/n laid upon his very shirtless chest as her naked body stayed hidden under the blankets. The memories of what happened last night circles around in his brain, making him smile. He and Y/n had both lost their innocence last night in the back of her Black pickup truck. Arvin couldn’t remember a time of being so happy and feeling so loved like he was last night. Both knew it was a sin in god’s eyes, but they both hoped he’d forgive them since even though it was before marriage, they were still in love and in their eyes its not any different.

 Arvin looked down at her, entranced by how beautiful she looked, how pure she looked just sleeping all sprawled out on his chest, her hair all messy and a light pink dashed across her cheeks from the cold. He sighed, wishing this type of peace could last forever. That the two could just stay like that in the middle of the woods in the back of the truck just enjoying one another’s company. But he knew thats not how life always worked. 

Y/n started to stir, her eyes starting to slowly open as she let out a small yawn. Her nose scrunched up as she yawn, it reminded Arvin of a small Kitten. She was his little kitten. 

“ Mornin’,” Arvin spoke in his deep southern voice as he looked at her. She looked up at him, a small smile gracing her face. 

“ Good Mornin’, so yah ready to take off for Cincinnati with meh? You know you ain’t getting rid of me now?” Arvin smiled, swooping down to give her a gentle and soft kiss the lips before pulling away. 

“ And I wouldn’t change it for the life of me, Darlin’.” 

[rpd-rookie]

He Shouldn’t Have Done That (PART 2) - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: Ever wondered what happened after your terrible fight with Leon in part 1. Well here is your answer.

Author’s Note: After receiving some messages telling me to write a sequel for "He Shouldn't Have Done That", there it is. But I must warn you, the angst is strong with this one. So get ready to cry! Oh, and I must warn you, that this chapter revolves around the theme of religion in addition to the theme of alcoholism and it also contain strong sexual terms. So if you're not okay with that, please don't read.

Tags: Angst / Alcohol Abuse; Alcoholism / Anxiety / Depression / Language / Explicit Sexual Content / Religion / Death and mourning.

  When Leon was a kid, his mother would take him to church every Sunday, dressed in his Sunday best, which was a fancy white shirt and a pair of trousers he was only allowed to wear on Sunday. Needless to say, he hated Sundays.   But his mother was such a good Christian, always wearing a silver cross around her neck, always having a Bible under her pillow. She’s the one who had told him to believe. She had told him to believe in God, in Jesus and Mary, in the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. She had told him to believe there was someone up there watching over him, judging him, someone capable of punishing him if he would ever misbehave, sin. Someone powerful, so powerful he could decide his destiny, his fate, his life, his death, and even his beyond. Someone who would accompany him to an heavenly residence after death, that sweet oh so beautiful paradise.         Yes, that’s what his mother had told him. And he had listened and followed her teachings to the letter, maybe even longer that he could remember. He had done it because nothing could bring his mother more happiness than him behaving like the sweet choirboy from the suburbs, and that’s all he wanted back then, make his mother happy.             But with all the horrors he had seen, Leon Scott Kennedy could not believe in any god anymore. He had buried all his belief, all his teachings - much to his sweet mother’s regrets - in the ashes of Raccoon City a long time ago. And with time, he even wondered if he had ever really believed in the first place.

“That city changed me, in more ways that I can think of. It turned me into the man I am today and sometimes I wonder who I would have become if I had just stayed home on that day instead of driving right into the hellish nightmare that was expecting me there.     Possibly, some city cop whose worst worry would have been to know if there was enough paper in the printer. Maybe it wouldn’t have been that bad, who knows? After all, that dude would have never become the mess I am today, that’s for sure. That dude would have never found comfort in alcohol. He would have never cast God away in favour of something able to help him reach some ephemeral paradise, something that just needed a glass to be worshipped, something that preferred cheers to amen. No, that dude would have had a nice quiet life in the suburbs with a lovely wife, two beautiful kids and a dog. And like my mother, he would have taken his charming perfect family to Church on Sunday. Would it have been better for me? For us? Maybe, cause surely, he wouldn’t have done the same mistakes I did”

7 weeks ago - D.S.O Headquarters – Washington DC

You couldn’t help but focus on the fancy pen relentlessly tapping against the glass table. Sitting at the end of the table, perfectly still, his old face appearing somewhat more rigid than usual, the President looked very impatient. And his annoyance was for once more than justified. Leon was terribly late, and by ‘terribly’ you meant ‘almost fifty minutes late’ to be more precise.   But the real problem was that he usually was never late. On the contrary, Leon was always the first person to arrive at morning meetings, most of the time carrying cups of coffee for each D.S.O agents including a special one for you: a large black coffee with extra foam on top and a small heart drawn next to your name on the cup, perfect to make you smile like an idiot - Your heart ached as you thought about it and realised there would be no more hearts drawn on your coffee cup now.

You discreetly glimpsed at your watch again, worried and imagining the worse. What if something happened to Leon? What if he drank too much again and fainted at home? Or worse, what if he had a car accident? After all, last time you heard him on your voicemail he sounded devastated and drunker than ever.     “I am sure Agent Kennedy must be stuck in traffic, Mr President.” Ingrid Hunnigan dared say in his defence. “Then why isn’t he answering his bloody phone?” The President slammed the pen against the table and let out an angry growl. Hunnigan mumbled, trying to find something to say but the President cut her off before she could even pronounce a word. “Let’s start without him.”           “Of course, Mr President.” She stood up and handed out a case file to each agent sitting at the table. When she got to you, she whispered, “Where is Leon?” You briefly looked at her and shook your head. She certainly didn’t know Leon and you had broken up. After all, it had only been a couple of days. “I don’t know.” You mouthed, trying to keep the nascent tears in your eyes.             She probably noticed how sad and worried sick you were since she pressed her hand on your shoulder before taking her place back next to the President to explain the content of the documents on the table. “An informer from the BSAA has recently sent us information concerning a possible …”

All of a sudden, the door of the meeting room opened widely, interrupting Hunnigan in her explanations. Leon had finally arrived. Seeing him instantly took a weight off your mind and you sighed, definitely relieved. But the relief was short.     “Sorry, I’m late.” His voice sounded off and rather somnolent. Hand still on the doorknob he looked at all of the persons around the table with half-lidded eyes. “Oh, seems like everyone is here. Must be a pretty damn important meeting then.” Oh no. Not now. Not here. Leon.         “Agent Kennedy. Thank you for finally honouring us with your presence.” The president declared with a cutting tone that cast a new chill in the meeting room.             “You’re welcome” Leon replied, definitely too drowsy to get the sarcasm.   You almost gasped, refusing to believe it was actually happening, and watched Leon stagger towards his usual seat next to Hunnigan. She silently gave him a file and discreetly poured him a glass of water to help him sober up a little since she had noticed – just like everyone else in this room – that your ex-boyfriend was mighty drunk. Then, she resumed her monologue, ignoring Leon’s grimace as he drank his water contrary to the President, who was glaring at him, and you, who were staring at his face, completely eating up by guilt and sorrow. Were you the one responsible for this? You thought that leaving him would probably help him realise his alcoholism not fall deeper in it.

Despite the huge level of alcohol running in his blood, Leon was astonishingly listening to the reunion with the biggest care. Actually, he was paying so much attention that when Ingrid Hunnigan pronounced his name and the words “Los Illuminados” in the same sentence he almost hit the roof. “This again? Seriously?” He cut her off, surprising everyone. “You want me to deal with that Spanish bullshit again? Is that what you’re going to say, Hunnigan? Like I haven’t done enough, already.” Ingrid suddenly didn’t know what to do with herself, shocked by Leon’s sudden anger towards her. He had never talked to her like that. That was not in his nature.         “Leon, please just let her finish before...” You whispered to calm him down, hoping he would cooperate. “Excuse me. You’re talking to me? You? Really.” He sneered, clearly angry. “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. After all, you haven’t been answering my calls since you dumped me.” You wanted to reply. But you knew that it would only aggravate the situation and make Leon angrier than he already was and the last thing you wanted was to make a scene or cause him more trouble.

“Is this a joke, Agent Kennedy?” The President growled and glared, definitely irritated by Leon’s behaviour. “No. The joke was your election, sir!” Oh God! Tell me he didn’t say that.             There was a sudden heavy silence. Everyone exchanged some aghast quick looks as the President was staring at Leon, his face reddened by anger, ready to burst. “Get out of here, Agent Kennedy. You are furloughed.” But Leon didn’t move and, with an air of defiance, simply replied “Whom are you going to send on your suicide mission if you kick me out? I’m the only one who can do the job here and you fucking know it.”     “Out! Out! Get out of here! I’ve had enough of you!” The President shouted, menacingly pointing his finger at Leon who remained still without batting an eyelid. “Leave this building now, Kennedy!” You decided to get up and grabbed Leon’s arm to lead him out. “Come on, Leon. You’re drunk. Let’s get you out to sober up a bit.” You said with an incredible calm but he refused to follow you “Of course I’m drunk. What else can I be? You left me. My job fucked me up. And I’m working with selfish assholes who clearly don’t care about that and want me to continue this fucking job till the day I die. So yeah, what else can I be if not drunk?”

“Gosh, if only I had known back then what the consequences of my actions would be, I would have never said those things or behaved like this. But regrets don’t matter. They don’t matter because it doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself I shouldn’t have done that, I know that there’s no turning back. I know that you will never come back. And I don’t blame you. I can’t blame you because the only person to blame here is me. And I don’t expect your forgiveness either. I know I don’t deserve it and how could you forgive me when even I can’t forgive myself? No, I expect nothing for you.”

3 weeks ago – In a bar somewhere in New York

He didn’t know her name and he was quite sure he hadn’t even asked before locking himself with her in the toilet. And truth to be told, he couldn’t care less. He didn’t need to know her name to take his pants down and he didn’t even need to hear a single word coming from a pretty mouth either. Actually, all he wanted that mouth of hers to do was to keep sucking him off right now. Yes, that’s all he wanted. Hand in her black hair, his head against the dirty wall, he was feeling dizzy with pleasure … and alcohol, especially alcohol. A routine he had grown even fonder of since he had been furloughed. “Yeah, right, suck that cock, you dirty slut.” How many glasses had he had since he entered that bar? Six? Eight? Meh, better not thinking about it right now. “That’s it.”

His cell phone suddenly vibrated on the floor, the blue light of the screen catching his weak attention. He managed to read “Hunnigan” and sighed. “What the hell does she want?” He mumbled, annoyed. “What did you say?” The girl asked but he chose not to answer and instead shove his cock back in her mouth. But the phone kept on buzzing on the grimy tiles and Leon couldn’t take his mind or his eyes off it, his professionalism getting the better of his drunken self. “Fuck” He cursed as he bent to grab the device, pushing the girl away from him, making her lose her balance and fall on her rear.     “Better be important, Hunnigan.” He immediately said, annoyance tinting his drunken voice.         “Leon.” Her voice was strangled and trembling. It didn’t take a genius to get she had been crying. And Leon knew that if Hunnigan was crying then something terrible had certainly happened. “Give me a second, Hunnigan.”

He quickly pulled his jeans back up and pushed the door of the toilet, leaving his brief conquest high and dry on the floor. “Where are you going?” She squealed but he didn’t listen. He got out of the bar to find a quiet place, phone still against his ear, listening to his partner sniff on the other side of the line. “Alright. What’s going on? Do you need anything?” He was worried. Maybe something had happened to her. “No” She said, her voice shuddering even more than before. “Where are you? Are you alone?” She asked.   “Yeah. I’m outside a bar, in New York. Why?” He dared ask, impatient yet apprehensive to know what was actually going on. “Sit” He frowned and froze. That didn’t sound good. Nothing is ever good when someone tells you to sit down. “Hunnigan.” “ Y/N is dead.”

It was as if someone heavy and massive had instantly dropped on him, as if something had punched his stomach and crushed his chest in a single move, preventing him from breathing, preventing his heart from beating, preventing all his members from moving.               That was not possible. This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream, a nightmare or a perhaps hallucination cast by alcohol. But as soon as Leon heard Hunnigan saying his name again, he knew this was too real for this to be the mere fruit of  his imagination or his subconscious.         “How?” It was the only word that he managed to say, feeling too numb to make a complete sentence right now. “Leon that wasn’t your fault.” “How?” He insisted. He wanted to know. He needed to know. He needed to know why you would never come back to him, why he would never see you again, kiss you again. But foremost, he needed to know who was the son of a bitch responsible for it.   “ In a mission in Spain.”

His phone immediately fell to the humid ground, breaking in a thousand pieces just like Leon’s whole body. His knees bent under the sudden weight of pain, anger and guilt and soon he collapsed to the sidewalk, completely appalled, tears flooding his blue eyes.  

He had done this. It was his fault. All his fault.          

Disoriented and panting, he started looking all around him for something, anything that could help him get out of this hell. But there was nothing and he was alone. He would forever be alone now.          

He had killed you. You were dead because of him.    

Leon screamed, face reddened by rage, angry tears flowing down his face. His fists hit the ground repeatedly, hard, so hard, his knuckles started bleeding. But he didn’t care. He didn’t even see it. He couldn’t feel that pain either. The only pain he could feel right now was the one from his heart being torn out from his chest, a pain that would ultimately leave an emptiness he would never be able to fill ever again. But he wanted to feel pain. He wanted to feel that precise pain, finding it a fitting punishment for everything he had done that had lead to this moment, that had led to your death.

Was it God punishing him? Was his mother right all along? Was He making him pay for what the pain he had brought you, for all the mistakes he had done, for choosing to worship a fucking bottle of whisky instead of Him? Was it his plan all along?

“IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANTED?” Leon shouted on his knees, looking at the menacing stormy sky.

He bent over the sidewalk, head in his arms, sobbing and sniffing loudly, moaning your name, begging you to come back. “Please don’t leave me here.” But just like God, when Leon was a little boy praying with his mother at the Sunday mass, you didn’t answer. “I’m sorry.”             He had never wanted this to happen to you. He had never wanted your life to end like this. All he had ever wanted for you was your happiness even if it meant a long and beautiful life without him. Because if a bottle of whisky smashed against the wall had made him realise one thing is that you deserved to find the person that could love you better than him, a person to worship you just as his mother worshipped God and he worshipped his liquor. Because you were the only thing worth worshipping in this goddamn world, the only thing he would gladly believe in. Because, if religion was meant to bring comfort, if God was truly there to watch over him, judge him and punish him as his mother had told him then you were his God all along.       After all, who if not you brought him the comfort when he needed it? Who if not you watched over him when he was in a very bad way? Who if not you judged him when he needed to be judged and no one dared to do it? Who if not you can make him fall on his knees like a pilgrim and wish for a paradise just to have the hope he would one day see you again?          

He stayed on that sidewalk for at least an hour on that night, still and quiet, completely empty, feeling the rain pour on him, until two policemen sent by Hunnigan went to look for him. “Are you okay, sir?” No, no he was not. And he wasn’t even sure he would be okay ever again. But he eventually got better.

“ I haven’t had a single drink in three weeks. Hunnigan says that I should feel proud but I don’t. Because look what I needed to quit.”

Leon looked at the flowered marble tomb at his feet, staring at your name with an intense sadness and melancholy he would never be able to get rid of. He had taken him a while to come here, refusing to step a foot in this cemetery even for you funeral because that would be admitting your death and he couldn’t do that. But that he was here, he couldn’t help but acknowledge how cathartic talking to you was.

“ I’m leaving for Spain tomorrow. President’s order. I guess that despite being a complete asshole he is not very resentful. I have no idea what’s expecting me there but I promise you, I’ll find whoever is responsible your death and I’ll make them pay. They will learn they shouldn’t have done that.”

[night-rook]

Sinful Delivery | Feitan Porter x Reader |

Word Count: 2709 Reader Type: Neutral Gender, Media Influencer, Model Story Type: Modern AU setting Beware: Sexual thoughts, BDSM, Curse words Summary: Reader is doing some media distancing due to harmassments. Feitan just happens to be the delivery guy on the day they wanted takeout.

Key terms: (Y/N) = Your name (H/C) = Hair Color (S/C) = Skin color (E/C) = Eye Color (F/F) = Favorite Food (S/F/F) = Second Favorite Food (S/N) = Screen Name (B/T) = Body Type (B/H) = Body Height

                                         ═✩══╡˚✧❨✧˚╞══✩═

A pair of empty eyes stared at the grimy ceiling. The pools of (E/C) reflected a blank canvas as they laid on the large bed. Their body felt frozen to the touch, almost as cold as a corpse. Taking in small breathes to fill their lungs, they closed their eyes and listened to the white noise of the room.

Their name is (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). Yes, That (Y/F/N). The infamous media influencer who specialized in dark styles of romance. Hacking to the fetishes that everyone is too scared or embarrassed by and bringing it out with their photos. Posing and modeling from all levels. If there was something out there, they were the first to act on it. Taking photos for the eyes of the dark. From innocent acts of bondage in bed to heavy blood draining, (Y/N) had a photo for the media.

Then, why were they laying in bed? Why were they alone?

There were numerous rumors that the model was faking their stats. Editing everything to where it looked realistic. Each photograph was nothing more than a scam of a freak who sought attention. As the rumors spread like wildfire across the internet platform, (Y/N)’s publicist advised them to stay away from the media until everything settled down. Their whole career was on hold because some people thought they were posers.

So, here they are laying in their loft condo and keeping a low profile. The (H/C) would go out for the usual grocery trips and daily exercise. Despite the dark cloud of their career, (Y/N) was a humble person and had a simple lifestyle. They just happened to have an interesting career path that differs from the norms. Boredom had become unavoidable these past few weeks, taking a toll on their adventurous spirit.

“Maybe I should have taken Gon’s than the Troupe Café,” (Y/N) mumbled and slowly sat up. “But, I’m kinda tired of the usual (F/F).”

Finally getting up from the bed, they stretched their limbs out into the air as they let out a huff of breath. Shaking off the sleepy dust from their body while walking down the stairs. (Y/N) looked at the clock that hung by the staircase. Its second hand ticking away while the minute hand was just barely moving.

Knock Knock, knock

Three rapid yet vigorous knocks caught their attention from the time. A smile broke across their (S/C) face as they walked to the door. Turning the knob, (Y/N) was greeted by a rather gloomy looking male. Being (B/H), the model was puzzled by the rather short male. His grey eyes stared at them, waiting for them to make a move. An austere expression was painted on his pale face.

“Are you gonna take it or not, dumbass. I don’t have all day.” the monotone voice seemed to match his demeanor. He held up a black bag that contained (S/F/F).

Shaking their head, the model took the delivery bag and left the door open. They got a whiff of food before setting it down on the living table to get the money. (Y/N) hummed happily at the thought of eating the heavenly meal but also for the change.

                                    ═✩══╡˚✧❨✧˚╞══✩═

As (Y/N) was gone, the male’s eyes narrowed slightly as something felt odd about the whole situation. The customer looked strangely similar to someone he followed online. He dug his hand into his pocket just as his phone vibrated. Pulling out the device, he internally grunted at the notification from Phinks. He pressed the text chat to read what was sent, probably a stupid excuse for not wanting to work. Reading the text in the grey bubble, the gloomy dressed male blinked before realizing what was said.

Lazy Fucker, 2:55 pm

Dude! Feitan! I remember where I saw that name. Ya know the model whose fan base is rioting? THAT’S THE CUSTOMER WHO ORDERED!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING LUCKY YOU SCORED?!?!

*read

Feitan felt a slight flinch in his gut. The universe had randomly granted him the opportunity to come across his favorite pastime. He knew of (S/N) and the alleged rumors against them. The short man didn’t care for what was said about the photoshopping because he knows real authentic torture when he sees it. Every drop of blood that dripped from their (S/C) (Y/H) body. Each cut that is made on their (B/T). He never doubted the reality that (S/N) performed.

When he heard and read about the accusations made about their work of art, his anger hit sky high. His blood boiled like magma, the more absurd every claim got. The day (S/N) went offline, Feitan’s hunger became unsatisfied. His entire Trevor Brown collection couldn’t fill the craving that rested deep inside his coal heart. There was just something in the model’s performance that made him growl in pleasure. His irritation followed him from home to work every day for the past couple of weeks.

“Here you go! I’m so sorry for making you wait this long. I misplaced my wallet.” they laughed and rubbed the back of their head due to the embarrassment.

He only grunted and took the payment, counting the bills to ensure it was correct. Underneath his bandana, an eerie smile made its way onto his apathetic face. Their voice was just so soothing and light, the perfect pitch to hear moans from in private. The more he stared at them, the stronger his desire grew. Feitan slipped the money into his pocket before deciding to speak.

“You’re (S/N), correct. Why haven’t you said anything about the bullshit,” he asked. Well, honestly, it was more like a demand than asking.

(Y/N) was about to close the door until he spoke up. Blinking at his bold words, they were confused about what told of them. Oh, he’s a fan…  they realized. Placing a hand on their hip, the model gave his words some thought. They were surprised the delivery guy knew who they were, giving they weren’t exactly in costume. They were only wearing a plain (F/C) shirt and shorts while their (H/L) (H/C) hair wasn’t styled.

With a smile, (Y/N) answered, “I can’t change anyone’s mind on what they see. Our perspectives are different, so I rather just let them believe what they want to believe.”

Feitan frowned at them. Their answer didn't sound convincing to him. His grey eyes stared at them more, searching for something. “It’s obvious that those scumbags are just picking for a reaction. Probably waiting for a suicide announcement about you.”

This time, his words did make their stomach turn. It was unnoticeable when their account got negative comments or when their inbox was spammed with death threats. (Y/N) did their best to avoid them and ignore the pessimistic thoughts that came with every troll. Yet, the words aimed at them did hate their self-esteem. It was when the rumors started to take effect did they finally get time to feel peace. The media distancing helped the depressing cloud clear up above their head.

“Want to join me for lunch? My legs are standing to ache from just standing and the food is gonna get cold,” (Y/N) smiled while pointing at the couch behind them, “ I can ask all your questions while we eat if that’s okay with you.”

Feitan nodded and walked inside the apartment. He took a few glances around the place and took notice of how moderate it looked. If he could bluntly say it, the place looked like a boring image in a magazine you could find in an office. Taking a seat on the leather armchair, the gloomy male sat and waited for the other to join him.

Getting some plates and drinks from the kitchen, the (Y/H) model went to the living area and served him some (S/F/F). The two ate in silence for a bit and got acquainted with each other’s presence. Feitan observed them some more, his eyes never leaving their body.

"Well, are you going to talk or not." Feitan scowled, glaring menacingly as his patience was going thin.

(Y/N) sweatdrop at his impatience, but took a drink of their soda. Their mind playing back the beginning of the chaos and the events leading to isolation. Recalling the confusion when their publicist instructed them to make the accounts private and go offline. The devastation they felt later followed when they read the article claims against them. The model simply felt their heart crack from the madness.

"I was told to sit and be quiet until things settle. These few weeks haven't been great. The assaults are still going and I can't do anything," (Y/N) sighed and stared at their drink. "I am- sort of- at a breaking point. No matter how strong the bubble I'm in, the insults make me crack and it hurts. I had ideas! I was going for approval but then got told to be quiet so the adults can talk."

Feitan leaned back into his seat and listened to them rant out their pinned up frustrations. From what he saw, it seemed to bother them that they were seen as a fraud. He watched the way their arms moved as they spoke and how their clothes would reveal the hidden story. His grey eyes took in the faint scars and discoloration on their (S/C). Fighting back a growl, the gloomy male set his plate down and got the model's attention.

"Fuck what those bastards say. Do what you want and show them everything." he smiled at the visible shiver they had.

(E/C) eyes glanced up to meet with metal eyes. Despite the coldness in them, the model could see just a small flicker of light. It was a small light, small but it was enough to make something in (Y/N)'s mind snap. The small click of gears before complete clockwork began to shift inside them.

He was right! Why did they have to be put in the corner when all they were doing was their passion?! Why were they being punished?!

(Y/N) looked straight at the short male. Their eyes reflecting the newfound determination and that same emotion cause him to smirk with interest. What he heard did catch him and made his inner desire water with hunger.

"I want a tape of real-time punishment. So, seeing as you are well aware of my work, I take you to know what to do?" they innocently smiled.

The gloomy spider leaned forward from his seat. His eyes darkening with a cloud of cruel lechery with every passing moment he stared at them. His mouth watered at all the methods that came to mind with how he will have them beneath him. To hear their cries, witness their tears, the expressions that cute face can make... Oh, how fate gave him an angel in a devil's clothing. Pulling down his bandana, he smirked at the model.

There it was again!

The cold chill when he smiled at them. (Y/N) might have picked the perfect candidate for a partner. At least for the project... maybe. Getting up from their seat, they grabbed his hand and led him upstairs.

"Let's get started, shall we."

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Upon the release of the video, four months had passed by. The video had gained a couple of million views and thousands of comments. Whether the attention was positive or negative, (Y/N) had no clue but Feitan did. He read through the comment section and was amused by the words.

Feitan was on his break and sitting at a table, a cup of forgotten tea sat in front of him. He scrolled through the section with an entertaining smile on his face. His eyes squinted up as he grinned with each passing comment. The spider worker enjoys the memory of that evening. It was his absolute favorite and it was something he looked back to whenever he watched the video.

He can recall how he felt with each scene as it plays out. The adrenaline that coursed through his veins with burning aspiration. How he wanted to make (Y/N) submit and to feel those agonizing vehemence. He wanted to keep hearing the moans and cries they made with each whip. The lewd face they made when he flogged their bareback. The way their body tense and pull on the restraints when he made a deeper cut.

Phinks and Shalnark were a bit disturbed when the short man came back to their shared apartment into the next morning. He was grinning menacingly while his clothes were covered in blood. Who's blood exactly, that was unclear. Both males watched him enter the apartment before vanishing into his room for the rest of the day. Endless to say, they shrugged it off and believed some poor stranger just wasn't lucky.

"Hey, Feitan! Can you take my shift real quick? I need to use the restroom, please. Please! Please!" The blond whined a bit.

The gloomy male grunted before heading back into the kitchen to tag him out. As he worked, he didn't hear the bell chime of the front entrance. He cooked until a soft voice caught his attention.

"Ello! I'll like small grey ice cream with a dash of sadistic sparkles." they happily chirped. Smiling as brightly as ever from the other side of the bar window.

Feitan looked up from the stove and hummed in acknowledgment. He turned his attention back to the food as (Y/N) took a seat on one of the stools. Their (E/C) eyes shined with the same happiness while watching him cook. The comfortable silence around them was pleasant and neither wanted to break it too. Until Phinks came back and stared at the new face before realizing who they were.

"FEITAN!! It's that model!!" he managed to shout despite the small space.

The short man remained stoic while (Y/N) giggled at the blond's reaction. Feitan grabbed the blond's shirt collar and pulled him into the kitchen to take back his job. Feitan grabbed two drinks and walked out of the kitchen. Handing one drink over to (Y/N), the short man took a seat by them.

"What brings you here." he finally asked after a few sips of beer.

Setting their glass down, (Y/N) turned to face him before tilting their head a bit. They were a bit confused by his questionable demand but then sat up when they remembered the reason for their sudden arrival. Turning to pull out a notebook from their bag, the cheerful model set it on the counter and turned to the desired page.

"I got another idea and wanted to see if you could help. I was thinking of an ice bath this time, but I want your opinion since your nasty little mind was the brilliance behind the video," they showed the page to Feitan and slid the notebook to him. "The agency will cover the cost if you have something else in mind. They even want to ask if you wish to apply. Seeing as you like a natural on camera and how fans reacted."

Feitan looked over the information on the page while listening to the (B/H) model. He could get paid for tormenting them with his dark fantasies. He smiled at them and slid the notebook back to them. Nodding, he finished his drink and looked at them with the same eyes as the day they met.

"Yes! You're the absolute best! I'll text you when the due date is and we can meet up this weekend to see when you got." (Y/N) grinned before jumping off their seat.

                                   ═✩══╡˚✧❨✧˚╞══✩═

Feitan's smile vanished after they said goodbye. He returned to his expressionless husk and decided to clock back in. When he was about to get back to work, his blond roommate finally spoke up and questioned the gloomy spider on what had just happened.

He simply shrugged and went back to his job. His eyes squinted as a grin hid under his bandana. "Just my pet wanting approval."

The blond nodded but quickly snapped his head to look behind him and stare at the man in shock. Since when did he manage to hook up with someone before Shalnark or himself?! Turning back around, Phinks frowned and grudgingly had to pay Shalnark when they closed the café for losing the bet.

                                  ═✩══╡˚✧❨✧˚╞══✩═

[chelledoggo]

Coming Clean

The past few days for me have been...eventful, to say the least.

But it's a new day, I've cooled down from the panic, and am ready to make my final, no-BS statement on this whole controversy. I feel like it needs to be done, and a few tweets on the subject isn't enough.

CW: Transphobia, Ableism, Suicide, Anxiety, Panic attacks, Depression, Rape and Murder mentions

On Sunday, July 12, 2020, I made a meme and posted it to Twitter. Essentially, the meme was comparing issues of mainstream trans and nonbinary people (being killed, being raped, being made fun of, being denied health care under Trump, etc...) to the online xenogender community, a community which I had not previously properly educated myself on.

Xenogenders, as I understand now, are gender identities that are used by some people, typically neurodivergent people, because they feel that these terms describe their gender identity better than the predetermined labels that are more commonly used. (cis, trans, nonbinary, agender, genderqueer, etc.) These identities are often based on unconventional factors, such as aesthetics, creatures, mythical beings, natural phenomena, and so on, and often use pronouns specially coined to compliment them.

In the meme, I depicted a very unflattering stereotype of xenogender youth, and used some tasteless terminology to describe how they present their developed gender identity to the world.

I won't bullshit you anymore. Here is the meme. (CW for Transphobia and Ableism; Rape and Murder mentions)

I posted it to Twitter, closed out, and took a nap. I didn't expect much to come out of it except for a few likes and retweets. I was obviously very wrong.

When I woke up and pulled up Twitter again, I was greeted to my notifications being flooded with replies upset by what I'd posted. Many of them were calling me out for ableism and transphobia. Some of them were just flinging insults and mocking me for my age/appearance/etc. Some of them were just fancams.

I'd finally seen the true impact of my actions.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a fear of angering others or becoming hateful and ignorant. I would never want to intentionally hurt innocent people, especially those of marginalized groups such as the trans and nonbinary communities. And as someone who is neurodivergent herself, I certainly wouldn't want to be willfully ableist. I've faced ableism in one form or another for my entire life.

People could also tell you that for pretty much my entire life, I've suffered with mental illnesses. I've been professionally diagnosed with depression, anxiety disorder, PTSD, and bipolar disorder. As such, I'm prone to panic attacks, outbursts, and suicidal ideation when under extreme distress.

As soon as I saw all the anger and hurt I'd caused, I started spiraling into a severe panic attack. I didn't realize how much this meant to a lot of people. A lot of young, neurodivergent people.

I felt like the scum of the earth. I fucked up, just like I've fucked up and made people hate me so many times before in the past. This is my life. Acting without thinking, and then unintentionally hurting people.

I immediately deleted the tweet and made an admittedly hasty apology.

When I'm in this state, however, I don't think clearly. My immediate reaction was that I was just too much of a fuck-up to go on living. I made a tweet saying I wanted to kill myself without any thought as to how that might be interpreted as guilt-tripping after I fucked up instead of taking responsibility.

Again, I was called out on it. So I deleted my suicidal tweets, too.

I then started posting tweet after tweet after tweet claiming that I was sorry and wanted to “be better.” But this barrage of tweets, as sincere as I thought they were at the time, came off as shallow damage control.

Once again, I was called out on this.

The next day, I tried once again to make a no-bullshit apology. I stated in plain english that I was indeed transphobic, ableist, and 100% in the wrong to make that meme, and that, while I still didn't fully understand xenogender identities, I would be respectful of them from now on.

There were plenty of people who were glad I apologized and learned from my mistakes, and I honestly felt a lot better for it.

I was hoping this would just be a fresh start, and things could slowly go back to normal for me and my friends.

However, there were also people angry at me for “bending the knee,” as they put it. I hid their replies to my apology because some of them (not all of them) were friends of mine, and I didn't want them getting attacked.

Some of my friends took this as “throwing them under the bus,” and were angry at me for it. A few of them decided they didn't want to be my friends anymore.

My friends, whether I agree with them on everything or not, mean a lot to me. They are really the only emotional support I have. I suffer from abandonment issues and my mental illness symptoms spike whenever I lose people I consider close friends.

So I lashed out at them for not respecting my decisions. I felt like they didn't really care about my mental health or my emotional wellbeing. I was hurt. Hurt just like I hurt everyone with the meme that started this whole nightmare.

I then, once again, started posting suicidal tweets. I talked about wanting to “chug a bottle of pills” and “go out like etika.” I actually attempted to strangle myself with a bathrobe belt. But, of course, I'm an all-talk-no-action coward when it comes to suicide.

After this, something just kind of fizzled out inside of me. I came to the conclusion that as much as I wanted to just make everyone happy, I couldn't. I couldn't make everyone believe that I was sorry, and I couldn't make everyone stop seeing me as just someone who wanted to “bend the knee” to avoid backlash.

So I was done. I gave up. I didn't care anymore. I was numb.

I made one last series of tweets stating just that, announced I was taking a break from twitter to heal, privated my account, and left. (I also made a tweet asking for people to report the person who screenshotted my meme and got people on me, but then I got called out for targeting a minor, and deleted this tweet as well.)

That brings us to right now.

I decided that I needed to really sit down, gather up all my thoughts, and recount the entire series of events. I just want everything that happened, including my words and actions, to be understood.

I'm not a bad person. I'm not an ableist or a transphobe. But I am a human. A human who makes mistakes. And when I make mistakes, I want to learn and do right by the people I've hurt.

I'm also a person with an extremely fragile mental and emotional state. A person who doesn't think clearly under pressure. A person who's had to put up with a lifetime of feeling like a failure who should honestly just cease to exist.

The bottom line here is this: I've gone through the suffering that I needed to go through. I realized the consequences of my ignorance. I've tried and am still trying my best to do right by everyone. I need to get this thing off my chest, confess to my sins, and finally let this whole thing go. So I can heal. So that everyone I hurt and everyone who got caught up in this can heal.

I would be lying if I said I completely understood xenogenders at this point. I probably never will. But I don't need to understand. I just need to be respectful. Because at the end of the day, no one's hurting anyone by identifying with a xenogender identity. They're just people trying to find themselves, just like I am. Who the hell am I to put them down? I'm neurodivergent. I've been young. I should know better.

I sincerely apologize to the xenogender community, to the LGBT+ community, to my friends, and to everyone that got caught up in this.

I love you all.

TL;DR: Made a shitty meme. Didn't do my research on xenogenders. Was ableist/transphobic. Had a severe mental health breakdown. Alienated everyone. Am genuinely sorry.

NOTE: At the time of posting this, my Twitter is still on private, and I’m afraid to unprivate it just yet. I would appreciate it if my friends could share this so it can get out there.

[nightqueendany]

Set Aside Your Shipping Goggles For Fucking Once, Please.

Had an ask about this and it really got me thinking.

Women, especially women who hate Dany’s character and ship Jonsa, please read -

Look at the outline of this story for a moment (and leaks, if they are true), and keep in mind the author is a MAN and the people who run/write the show are all MEN.

We have a woman who has been exiled, orphaned, and abused. She grew up with nothing, selling family heirlooms in order to have money for food and even then, it often wasn’t enough and she would go hungry.

When we meet her, she’s sold to a war lord from a foreign culture and repeatedly raped to the point where she contemplates suicide. Throughout her story she is beaten and betrayed. She has risked her life numerous times. She has lost those she’s loved. And she has also taken it upon herself to help those who no one has ever dared help before. She’s young, she’s inexperienced, she’s not perfect. But she is trying. She gives herself this mission and risks everything to see it through, even prolonging her return to her homeland to make it happen.

But the story begins to plague her with typical sexist tropes - framing her choices as “bad” when with other characters, it’s not so morally gray. She’s vilified for the exact same actions other characters, male characters, are celebrated for or just ignored and written off.

And then to have her story finally crumble completely, have this female character who has suffered so much and tired so much, just descend into madness so that a male hero can kill her and save people from her...a male hero who, for the most part, has no idea what she suffered - he was formally educated and formally trained, always had plenty of food to eat and a constant, warm place to sleep, family who loved and supported him -

Honestly, how can any woman look at this and NOT take issue with it?

Fucking ships don’t matter. Hello! None of the leaks say Jonsa either! It’s not about the goddamn ships.

But seriously, how can anyone, anyone with a vagina especially, root for this ending? Root for this kind of writing?

If the books and show made Dany suffer, only to build her up and build up her power, just to tear her back down again and make her “mad” so that the Male Hero has an excuse to kill her and continue to be “The Hero”...what kind of message does that send to women?

Women shouldn’t have power? Women who wish to take power for themselves will always inevitably go mad? Women aren’t responsible with power?

It’s bullshit.

And for those saying, “Well, Cersei had everything taken from her, why aren’t you complaining about what they did to Cersei and calling that sexist?”

It’s not the same thing at all!

Was Cersei raped and abused by Robert? Yes. Did she lose family and friends? Yes.

However, Cersei has always been unapologetic about her sins. She continued fucking Jaime, birthed his children, put those children and her family at risk for doing so, continued to try to stay queen at any cost, had no plans so far as helping others and only doing what would help herself...

Cersei is the opposite of Dany. Yes, the both want power. But Dany has altruistic aspirations. Cersei doesn’t. Cersei just wants to avoid answering for the crimes she has committed, that’s why she wants power. That’s the difference.

So in the end, to switch their stories and deaths - to give Cersei a ��sympathetic” death and to make Dany a villian...just utterly undoes everything set up for both their characters thus far.

Could a sympathetic Cersei death be done right? Sure. I still love her character. In fact, I’d say giving her a sympathetic death is necessary for all she’s suffered. But giving Dany a cowardice villain death? What?

Seriously, some Jonsa has to be able to take a step back from the story and say - admit rather - that Dany becoming a villain is fucked up storytelling.

Regardless of the things she’s done that you take issue with, her story as a whole - an abused woman who slowly gains power and expresses a wish to help others only to go mad in the end and have a MAN kill her - it’s fucked up.

Can’t you all see that?

[jupitermelichios]

So I decided to rewatch Suicide Squad and I have some thoughts...

This isn’t really a review so much as it’s just a series of thoughts and impressions. I will say that while it’s still one of the worst made films I’ve ever seen, it’s never boring, which is by far the biggest sin a film can commit. It’s bullshit but it’s consistently interesting bullshit which makes it better than something like Fant4stic, which is as bad and incoherant but also just incredibly dull. I don’t think this could ever have been a good film, there was too much massively wrong with it before shooting even started to have been salvagable, but I do think it could have been a lot more coherant if it hadn’t been for the reshoots, re-edits, re-edits of re-edits and all the the other stuff that happened to it post production. Unlike something like BvS, I get why some people liked this one.

On that note, while I am going to end on a few possitives this basically a roast so if you don’t want to read about a film getting picked apart, this probably won’t be your jam. But if like me you find critiques of bad movies cathartic, read on. I’m not the first person to do this, but I’ve spotted some stuff I haven’t seen anyone else talk about so hopefully there’ll be something new for you.

All the dialogue is just slightly off in a way that’s hard to pin down, in the way that a lot of comprehensible stuff written by computers and neural networks is just slightly off. It’s got that phishing email or pornbot quality to it. Literally the fourth or fifth line in the film is Griggs saying about the prison rations, “...Everything a growing young man needs like you”, which isn’t nonsense, but is clearly wrong, and a lot of the lines have that quality to them.

In a similar vein, Deadshot’s daughter is written like she’s five or six, but the actress looks about twelve. I actually went and checked how old she was when this released, because I know white people are often wildly bad at judging the ages of black kids and I’m bad at judging ages in general, but no, she was 12 or 13 when this was shot, so why’s she written like a toddler? She doesn’t give a good performance (which is not the actresses fault, Will Smith barely gives a good performance in this and he can do this shit in his sleep, there’s no way a kid could have risen above the terrible script and direction) which makes it even worse, because you’ve got this pre-teen delivering dialogue written for a kindergardener in a way that feel like it’s maybe the first time she’s ever seen the script, and it makes what is otherwise one of the most competant scenes in the movie feel just as off as everything else.

The Joker. A lot of people have written a lot about Leto’s Joker but I want to add two things to the discussion I haven’t seen talked about much before. Firstly, before the electro-shock torture and acid bath, he and Harley have no romance. Like, explicitly, there is no romance, or even cammeraderie there. He’s her patient. She’s his jailer. He didn’t seduce her, he just tortured her until she gave in. That’s literally shown in the film. Even after the torture when she’s now on side he still really doesn’t like her, and not in a Paul Dini BTAS he doesn’t like her but he also wants her around kind of way. He doesn’t want her in his life. He orders her to leave him alone and she fucking stalks him. That’s not even subtext, she is specifically his stalker, because apparently the solution to the relationship being abusive was to retconn Harley into also being a creep as though that somehow solves something.

Secondly, Joker isn’t smart. Not only is he no longer emotionally intelligent (and comics Joker is many terrible things but he’s probably the most emotionally intelligent character in DC, that’s a lot of what makes him so dangerous because it’s how he manipulates people) he’s not intelligent full stop. His great plan for breaking out of Arkham? Some of his goons from the outside literally just shoot their way in to get to him. Even leaving aside the fact that Arkham apparently isn’t set up to deal with that kind of violence in this world despite Batman having been opperating for a decade, that’s not a clever plan, and it’s not Joker’s plan. 'Hope some of my dudes are loyal enough to come get me’ isn’t any kind of escape plan, and nothing we see after that point suggests that this was a moment of weakness. Joker just straight up isn’t very bright in this, which is weird because that’s one of the few genuinely consistent character traits he has. He’s no Riddler, sure, but he’s really smart and that makes him hard to contain.

Ayer made Harley functionally a sex worker in this, and it doesn’t actually matter that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with sex work or that sex work is real work, because David Ayer definitely thinks there is, and also really really hates women. David Ayer hates women so goddamn much. The only thing Slipknot does in the entire film apart from die is hit a woman just for being a woman.

When Waller arrives at Belle Reve, Croc is doing push ups. And that’s fine, it’s a classic movie shorthand for ‘bored prisoner is also fit and strong’, but the actor isn’t actually doing pushups. He’s got one knee tucked under his body to support his weight, and is clearly actually just sort of bobbing his head. What I suspect happened is that the prosthetics on his arms and chest were too heavy to allow that kind of movement, which would tie up with the stiff way he holds his arms throughout the film, but he’s not even bothering to pretend very hard and it adds to this pervading sense of off-kilter wrongness the film has.

Rick Flagg is supposed to be ‘the best special forces opperative this country has’, but he’s... really bad? He’s no use in any of the fights, he’s incapable of working with a team and has zero interpersonal skills, and when he’s assigned to be a bodyguard, he immediately starts fucking his client which is like, bodyguarding rule 1. He’s really bad at his job. (Which would be fine if the explanation was that he’s a fucking psychopath who’s 100% willing to just murder a civilian in the line of duty, but he’s meant to be Hannibal Smith more than Dirty Harry, and also if he is here because he’s a psychopath, why did Amanda Waller assume June Moon would be into that?!) He even has to be blackmailed into joining the opperation, so he’s incompetent, unprofessional, causes unecessary conflict, and isn’t even loyal to the project, so why him and not, I don’t know, literally any other character?

On the subject of June Moon, she goes (alone) on an archeological dig in a rainforest somewhere, finds a cave full of human remains and ancient artefacts, and literally her first action is to deliberately smash one of the artefacts, presumably just to see what would happen? IDK! We never get any explanation for that, but it’s definitely meant to be deliberate and not accidental when she smashes it! Why are archeologists in movies all so terrible?!

People have joked a lot about the fact that the movie changes the purpose of the squad from ‘plausibly deniable black ops, especially on American soil’, to ‘punching Superman’ but kept Captain Boomerang on the team, but there is actually an explanation given. A really really stupid explanation. Amanda Waller says that he’s there because ‘he faced down a metahuman and survived’, referring to him surviving being arrested. By the Flash. Who is famously non violent, and in fact in the next film in the series specifically says he’s never fought someone. So Boomer is on the team because he didn’t die when Flash picked him up and carried him to a police station, and Amanda Waller thinks that’s some kind of achievement. Like that isn’t the case for literally everyone the Flash has ever caught. And Flash is a street level hero, so that’s a whole lot of muggers and purse snatchers who are apparently capable of fist fighting Superman by Waller’s logic.

(On the same note as the Joker, Waller is also now incredibly stupid, but she’s mostly stupid for plot related reasons, so it sort of gets a pass? It gets more of a pass than the Joker at least, because making him comics-smart wouldn’t have necessatitated changing anything else about the film)

Re: Waller’s stupidity, her whole plan for recruiting El Diablo to the squad is... show him a video of him setting fire to some dudes. That’s it. She doesn’t even speak to him, she literally just holds up the video to the little window in his tank and seems surprised when that by itself isn’t enough.

And then when Flagg is like ‘hey let me try persuading him with actual arguments instead of just a weird video’, Diablo’s response is “You think you’re the first person to ask? I won’t do it. I’m a man not a weapon”, which gives us the amazing insight that in Ayer’s version of the DCU, there are apparently just... other Taskforce Xs running around. Other government agencies recruiting metahuman soldiers. So what exactly was the point of the half an hour or so of footage of her persuading the brass to go along with it? Because apparently they’re fine with this if every agency is doing it!

Tone? What even is tone. Griggs both has an antagonist but banter-y relationship with and brings cookies to the prisoners, but also he tortures them and is implied to be sexually abusing Harley, and like... you can’t have it both ways, Ayer. This is a one or the other situation. They can’t have a fun and jokey relationship with a man who is explicitly torturing and abusing them. Tone. You need to pick a fucking tone!

The decision to add a subplot about Deadshot being involved in a custody battle with his ex-wife was a fascinatingly terrible choice, and honestly tells you a lot about Ayer’s relationship to MRA talking points. Like, we know nothing about Deadshot’s wife except that she raised a cute well adjusted kid, so probably a pretty good parent, and that she doesn’t want her daughter to be spending time with a MASS MURDERER! So definitely a good parent! The comics just kind of handwave away Zoe’s mom most of the time, which was the right choice, because Ayer wants us to be on Deadshot’s side here, but it’s literally a choice between "a serial killer but you take credit cards” and a normal loving parent and somehow he thinks serial killer is the right answer? WTF happened in Ayer’s life that he thinks this is a choice where we side with Deadshot?! And it’s not even visitation rights or anything, Deadshot wants full custody. And the film thinks he’s in the right!

Not once, at any job I have ever had, one of which was a tourist attraction that required all visitors to wear a pass, have I ever seen someone wear a visitors pass on their sleeve. Not once. And it’s honestly such a good summary of the pervading wrongness of this film. This doesn’t feel like it was made by people. It feels like it was made by middlingly intelligent algorithms trying to pass as human.

Someone please tell me what the fuck any of this set is supposed to mean. The pose feels deliberate, but it’s not invoking anything I can see except the hanged man from the Ryder-Waite tarot deck, the halo of knives almost looks like it’s pseudo-religious imagery except that it’s not a full halo, the circle is incomplete on one side because of a broken piano, does the piano mean something? What about the babygrows, do they mean something? Does the Joker... want kids? Kill kids? Think Harley’s pregant? What the hell is any of this supposed to mean, and if, as I suspect, it was never supposed to mean anything why the fuck did they go to the trouble of making it?! What exactly does the hours this took to put together add to the movie?

David Ayer has a really weird relationship with both gang culture and latino gang culture specifically. He always feels the need to shoehorn them in somehow, and it’s this weird love-hate relationship where he apparently thinks latino gangs are so cool they have to be in everything, but is also so fucking racist he’s incapable of having a latino character who isn’t in a gang. Also in order to shoehorn them in here, he basically removed all of Joker’s henchmen (except for one scene which serves no narrative purpose) and replaced when with generic racist-stereotype LA gangs.

The fact that Griggs just hands Harley the phone in front of all the other guards and soliders was A Choice. Made even more so by the fact that Griggs never actually pay off. He gives Harley the phone, she tells him he’s “so screwed now”, and then... nothing. He’s just gone for the rest of the movie. He’s not even in the epilogue back in prison scenes.

I fucking love that the first thing Waller does is tell the world’s best assassin her real name. That is just... *chefs kiss* Everyone in this film is so fucking stupid.

I knew it was coming. I knew it was coming and I remembered the line perfectly, and I still had to stop the film because I was laughing too hard for “Ah would advise naht gettin’ killed by her, her sword traps the souls of its victims”. It’s the ‘that wizard came from the moon’ of film dialogue, and no one could have made it work, but the southern accent is really what makes that line delivery. I don’t know why, there’s just something about it in that drawl that it just endlessly hilarious.

It really is impressive how every character in this manages to be an offensive stereotype, sometimes multiple offensive stereotypes at once.

I love how Flagg’s right-hand woman is a samurai with a magical possessed sword that traps the souls of the damned who also isn’t military and refuses to speak English most of the time, but the squad are too weird for him. “You won’t believe it, this guy Boomerage, he’s got these bent stick things, and when he throws them they come back! I am freaking out, I can’t deal with this. Oh hi Katana, trap any damned souls lately?”

Harley is explicitly malicious in this in a way no other version of Harley has ever been, which is a Freudian nightmare when you combine it with her also being more sexualised than ever, and more infantalised than any version outside the Arkham games. Someone get Ayer a goddamn therapist. (Also in the vein of everyone being dumb in this, Harley is now an absolutely terrible psychiatrist and all her diagnoses are explicitly wrong, so that’s fun.)

The fucking pink unicorn-bundle of money switcheroo. There’s nothing to say on it that hasn’t already been said but holy shit. How do you fuck something up that bad? How? It’s like looking into Chekov’s nightmares and finding a pink stuffed unicorn staring back.

I love the way the soliders just come and go in this. Are they dead, are they alive, have they abandonned the cause? Why the fuck knows? Certainly not the editors!

I love how we’re supposed to be really sad about El Diablo being dead, but not care that Croc is seemingly directly underneath the explosion and definitely about to die, that’s fun.

I need to know if it was Ayer or Cara Delavigne’s choice to make Enchantress be just.. doing a little dance. Duing all the ‘tense’ moments. Because there are probably things which undercut tension more than the bad guy having a bit of boogy, but not many.

Enchantress gets so many costume changes, and I want to believe that they’re all from different versions of the film but I honestly think it was deliberate and I need someone on in the design department for this movie to tell me why because it add nothing.

I think the best thing about the stupidly on the nose liscenced soundtrack is that it just disappears once they arrive in Midway city. After spirit in the sky it’s original music all the way until the final scene. The great soundtrack DC stans insist this film has is literally only in the first 50 minutes and the last 2 of a 2hr+ movie.

The glorification of abuse in this is... seriously fucking something else. Twilight doesn’t have a patch on this. 50 Shades of Grey doesn’t have a patch on this. This shit is disgusting, and the fact that they pushed so hard to get it a child friendly rating is just morally bankrupt.

Possitive note to end on:

The dialogue is way too on the nose and exposition dump-y but the scene in the bar works pretty well. It fulfils its role in the story, and gives us a decent dose of team bonding.

Deadshot and Harley have great chemistry, and Boomer is perfectly cast, in a way that makes me really hopeful for James Gunn’s take on the team. A writer who knows how to write friendships could do a lot with the three of them, and they’ve been the core squad since 2011 so they’re the ones who matter. It probably helps that whatever Will Smith’s faults as an actor, you could cast him opposite a housebrick and they’d somehow have great chemistry.