#and i feel like when i'm thinking about why suicide is criminalized. it's not because of an idea of compulsory liveness. it's because of

[trans-axolotl]

referring to thesuicidedoula on instagram not you

ohhh okay. yeah to be clear when i linked them that was not necessarily an endorsement of like, every single of their posts or saying that i think that their analysis about suicidality is always correct or helpful. some of their posts have been valuable for me in thinking about what ways mad lib movements sometimes exclude suicidal people from our communities and reframing ideas around autonomy and suicidality. i know some people resonate with some of their ideas, and i know that they're a mad person spending a lot of time talking about suicide in Mad spaces. i don't agree with every post they make and you don't have to either!

[artbyblastweave]

So I want to draw out some of the grousings I put in the tags of @phaeton-flier's recent post on Waller's characterization in My Adventures with Superman.

I think the problem you're gonna run into with adapting Waller in 2024 is that they basically nailed her completely twenty years ago in the DCAU Justice League continuity, they already captured the perfect balance of good intentions and ruthless utilitarian amorality. In the DCAU, Waller's arrival on the scene was contextualized by more than a decade of superheroic precedent- she lives in a world where Superman specifically got brainwashed into attacking earth, she lives in a world where Kryptonian war criminals took a shot at Earth, she lives in a world where an alternate-universe totalitarian Superman crossed dimensional boundaries to take a shot at earth. She lives in a world where Superman helped disarm the world's nuclear arsenal at the behest of a guy who turned out to be the fifth column for an extraterrestrial invasion. She lives in a world where the Justice League formed specifically to stop something similar happening again and then tripped over their own dicks when one of their founding members turned out to be a partisan mole for an extraterrestrial empire. She lives in a world where these city-leveling clowns have consolidated sixty or seventy other city-leveling clowns in an orbiting circus that's armed with a city-leveling orbital laser canon. This is just the stuff that would have made the in-universe news, there's even more I'm not mentioning here. In other words, she lives in a world where it's completely reasonable not to trust the superheroes and to want to have contingencies against them.

She does horrible things in pursuit of those contingencies, but they're targeted, goal oriented horrible things. Aside from her usual suicide squad routine she clones and basically enslaves dozens of super-soldiers, which is of course terrible on the face of it, but comparatively easy to justify from the realpolitik cold-equation way in which she approaches things. When her bullshit generates externalities for civilians, it's not because she sics those super soldiers on them. She doesn't declare martial law. That's not what she's after! She just keeps losing control of the bastards, and then she shrugs, and she signs off on additional bastards from scientists and magicians who've proven time and time again that they do not have their shit buttoned down- but what else is she going to do? Roll over? Let the capes treat the world like their playground?

Crucially, the DCAU version is also capable of realizing when she's prioritized the wrong threat- she's capable of re-evaluating and de-escalating. She's got a foil on that show, a guy who starts from the same place of concern as her but isn't capable of course-correcting because he's too much of a belligerent paranoid maniac. That guy is General Wade Eiling. And in a version of MAWS that doesn't need to set Sam Lane up for a redemption arc, I would have Waller as the one in Sam's position, as the well-meaning extremist who loses control of the monster she created and gets frozen out in favor of a significantly less principled hardliner in the form of Eiling. Alas.

The fundamental thing about Waller, at least to me, is that she's uninteresting as a ground-floor antagonist. While I've yet to get around to the original Suicide Squad run where Waller originated, I'm confident in my understanding that it was a postmodern project from the word go, exploiting years of ossified genre convention and rogue's gallery bloat to make the points that it was trying to make. This is part of why I think the first Suicide Squad film went over like a lead balloon- it tried to wish that built-up continuity into existence out of nowhere, whereas the second movie was simply a lot more naturalistic about faking that larger context. This show feels like it's doing something similar on a meta-level- exploiting decades of audience familiarity with Waller and how plots involving her tend to go, in a way that papers over how weirdly early in the progression of this continuity they've brought her into the fray. She usually isn't the joyless jackboot on the frontline trying to snuff out the incipient heroic age- she's the beleaguered repairmen brought in years after the novelty has worn off, after the superheroes have had their goddamn chance, with all the ups and downs and near-misses that entails, so that she can make entirely novel mistakes in reaction to that context. As it stands, she's kind of 0 to 100 in this, and something about it feels off.

[chocsra]

"What is A House? Who is Your Home?"

15! Dazai x gn! reader

ask: @wifedazai hellooo 🫶🫶 i’m literally soo in love with your writing, i love it so much. i was wondering when you get the chance if you could make a 15!dazai x fem/gn reader? like the reader is a caring and sweet person to dazai that he lets himself be vulnerable around her, like for example one day he goes straight to her apartment after a tiring mission and just lets them take care of him, bathing him, changing his bandages, etc🫶

content: fluff, oneshot, not proofread, taking care of dazais bandages, mentions of odasaku, mentions of suicide & getting hurt, soft! dazai

a/n: ur request was saur cute pookie, ENJOY AND SORRY FOR THE LACK OF DAZAI CONTENTJWJSJS. ps, the port mafia was his house, the agency is his home

"You're home,"

A warm chill soothed in the air: the jingle of keys, the rustling of leaves from open windows, the scent of sweat and blood. Home, they say, is not a house, nor just someplace you sleep in; that's why a house cannot always be a home, or a home cannot always be just a house.

"I always come home."

Dazai Osamu - is an er, friend of yours? In the rise and fall of Yokohama's chest, laid bustling streets where crime inhabits each corner, each alleyway. And well, your 'friend' did contribute to that factor, but you digress.

"Home, as in, my house?" you ask casually, a smile tugging on your lips. Dazai chuckles, taking off his workshoes on at the doorstep before gently pinching on your cheek. "Anything's better than that shipping container." he feigns a sigh, watching as your face contorts in confusion as blood from his thumb smudges on your cheek. "Ah," the teenage boy lets out a breathy giggle, "sorry." Dazai wipes the blood again with his thumb, smearing the imprint across your skin.

"So, what happened to you, Mr. Mafia?" you snicker, Dazai's black overcoat rested somewhere on the clean flooring of your apartment. Currently changing his bandages, washing some blood off here and there. "Well, I bet you can guess." he exhales, bringing a bandaged hand to ruffle the brown locks in between his hair.

"I wonder why you get hurt so much," you grumble softly, gently unbandaging the guaze secured around his neck, arms, well, his everything. "I wonder that too, huh?" Dazai swiftly repeats, "Why are you repeating everything i say?" you cock a brow, wiping some blood from his shoulder suspiciously. "No I'm not," the brunette looks at you mock-offendedly, "Yeah you are."

There are times where being friends with a mafioso was well, challenging. Dazai of all people, is one of, if not the most challenging criminal you've encountered. And if he actually lived a normal life, he'd be sweating his ass off studying; if he needs to.

You'd think about his whereabouts: what does Dazai Osamu do in a day? who does Dazai Osamu do in a day? And why is Dazai Osamu not dead?

Ps: that's because he wants to die. You know because he told you a million times before.

You know Dazai Osamu does one thing though, he teaches. Past tense actually, he taught.

You figured out the difference between a house and a home.

Home is a tall brunette, appearing at your doorstep with shitty takeout.

Home is changing a mystery boy's suit and tie.

Home is not being able to sleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams.

Home is kissing shards of broken glass - you're bound to get hurt, but at least you were The Victim, and not The Cause.

"Well, I don't like to see you hurt, 'kay?" you smile softly, gently washing his shoulders and arms, feeling the prominent bones under his flesh. "And what is that supposed to imply, exactly?" he smiles cheekily, turning to you as you chuckle endearingly, "It means, don't-" you tap his forehead playfully, "get," tapping again, watching as the brunette laughs under his breath, "hurt, stupid." Dazai softly takes your hand in his, looking intently at the soft flesh of yours compared to the calloused, beaten knuckles of his.

"You're right, my dear," you turn away half-flushed, half-scoffing at the sudden nickname, "I'll try." the boy smiles, rubbing your knuckles gently under the pad of his bruised fingers. You chuckle in return, watching as Dazai pauses.

"Under one condition," he mutters, his bare shoulders reflecting under the returning sun, "and what's that?"

"You meet a friend of mine, he taught me a lot of things." the brunette murmurs in a hushed tone, you see the glimmer in his eyes, eyes that look lifeless most of the time, devoid of mercy, compassion. But sometimes, Dazai loses the scare, and blooms like he's seen an angel above when he looks at you. "What's their name? Are they in the mafia too?" you question, your lips tugging into a hearty smile, "Well I call him Odasaku, but his name is Oda - and he is in the mafia, but really, I think he should be an author."

"Sounds pretty drastic," you reply, Dazai hums peacefully, "but achievable." you both say in unison. "So what do you say?" the boy asks, "Will you meet him with me?" you wrap new bandages around his shoulders gently, "maybe," you murmur; the teenager rolls his eyes sassily, "c'mon, he'll like that someone is taking care of me like this." humming a soft tune, "alright, alright."

"Y'know, you mentioned he taught you a lot of things," you brought up, reapplying gauze now to his arms." Dazai looks at your with loving eyes, "mhm," he hums. "Like what?"

"The difference between a house and a home."

[uncanny-tranny]

I've talked before about how the way people treat suicide can be unintentionally devastating to the suicidal person, but I don't think I really ever said how to avoid that.

Speaking about suicide in how selfish it "is" ("think about how you'll transfer your pain to your loved ones!") might seem like a way to put logical sense into the suicidal person, but, honestly? It runs the risk of massively increasing their shame and guilt about being suicidal. Suicide is not inherently a revenge fantasy or a way to "get back" at someone's loved ones, so when the suicidal person is treated like a criminal of a "crime" they haven't even committed yet, you can imagine how unhelpful that can become.

Instead, if you want to point out how cherished your person is, frame their relationships as something they can keep fostering.

"Your cat will miss you :(!!!!" becomes "you and your cat seem close, right? I'm sure it's beautiful having a close friend like that!" and maybe include ways that they and their cat are close and meaningful to each other, tailored to that relationship.

That's only one example, but when you shift the focus away from why that person should repent and feel guilty for being suicidal, you can instead focus on why they would live for that reason. See how you can frame that as a positive? Whatever is keeping that person tethered should never be used as a bludgeon, I think, because then you're taking away why they're living, the positivity of why they are here. Whatever they are here for should be remembered often and honoured.

[elswing]

i hate posting discourse it's pointless and doesn't do anything for me except prolong my annoyance but i'm Tired™ and feel like shouting into the void. apologies to my beautiful feanorian mutuals please look away i love u

i neeeeeeed everyone to stop claiming they like elwing if their characterisation of her is completely made-up biased bullshit that paints her as an immature and disdained ruler (?????) who couldn't balance her responsibilities with the husband she married too young (at 22. practically a child bride honestly) and the children she never wanted (where. where does it say this). she's clearly such a bad mother that she abandoned them at first opportunity (she knew the feanorians were more than capable of killing a pair of twin boys because they literally already did that. that's very much a thing that already happened. to her brothers) and it was her selfish nature that made her soooo eager to flee (she had no reason to think ulmo would save her it was literally a suicide attempt. she wanted to make sure the deaths of her people and presumed deaths of her sons weren't in vain by ensuring they never obtained the silmaril)

like i'm gonna touch your hand as i say this. it's okay if you hate her! just don't pretend that you weren't thriving in the 2016 era of silm fandom where everyone pushed all their male fave's negative traits onto any other woman in a 5 mile radius to grab Poor Little Meow Meow status for war criminal #1 #2 and #3 to then turn around and spout the exact same (factually untrue) sexist rhetoric concealed under seven layers of buzzwords just because it's the year of "unlikable and complicated female characters" like buddy who are we talking about here. have you perhaps considered making an oc?

and i'm NOT saying i want the whole fandom to mimic my exact opinions and thoughts about elwing i realise that one of the best parts of the silm is how divisive it is and how you have so much wiggle room to come to your own interpretations because of how VAGUE the source material is but i'm genuinely convinced everyone's just parroting shit they saw in ao3 fanfics where maglor is secretly lindir and the premise is elrond sneaking him into valinor and elwing yells at him for slaughtering her people. TWICE. and this is framed as a category 5 Woman Moment so elrond disowns her and calls maglor his real dad

(eärendil misses this entire ordeal because he went on a voyage to save the world that one time and no one's let him live it down since because the whole fandom as a collective decided he did this because he's a terrible dad and not because the whole continent was at war and about to be wiped out and maybe he came to the unfortunate but reasonable conclusion that leaving is the best thing he could do for his family if it meant there was a chance his sons could grow up safe in a world that wasn't ruled by Fucking Satan so now his whole Beloved Sacrificial Lion: The Thin Line Between Doomed and Prophesized Hero™ shtick is tossed out in favour of.... *checks notes* Guy Who Forgot To Pay Child Support? oh and they're a lot louder about this because he's a man so no one can call it misogyny that's why no one ever goes the #girlflop #ILoveMyBlorbosNastyAndComplicated route with him and he gets dubbed as that one asshole who just wanted fame and glory even though that goes against the general themes for tolkien's hero characters. and tolkien loved that dude to bits that was his specialist little guy so you can't seriously tell me you think that's what he was trying to portray???????? is that seriously what you think he was trying to portray????????? babe????????????

also there's a BIG difference when it's a character that's only named in one draft and doesn't exist in the rest or gil-galad who has like three and a half possible fathers but ELWING??????? the only possible way you could be coming to these conclusions is if you read the damn book with your eyes closed. FUCK.

[vitzi9]

Patience is the key to success (2)

Masterlist if you want to read my others things. Part 1 here.

CW/TW: yandere-manipulative-obsessive-stalker-ethan, fem reader, smut, no p in v, depressed reader(but really), suicidal thoughts

i'm trying to post this quick because I crave attention, whatever its insults, compliments, likes or repost, idc. I want ppl to know i'm existing. i have a big oral test tomorrow and im really bad at speaking before someone (hence why im writing instead) so i just need to know im not totally useless in the society and that im, at the very least, making people enjoy my things. sorry for the rant, i have a big headhache, probably gonna die ✌️😚

the smut is really bad btw but like really but im bad at writing them but i need to to improve (26/06/2023) (5226 words)

"Let's just finish watching the movie now." you say and Ethan doesn't make you repeat as he goes straight to the couch.

You felt much better after that little talk. Ethan did not say much but in his words, there was a lot more. He was planning to be with you a long time. He does not want to ruin things. It made you so happy. Every fiber in you was warm thinking of it. You were at peace.

Ethan was calm after that, albeit moving uncomfortably sometimes. (maybe because of his boner?) He was just as cuddly as when you arrived. His head laid flat on your chest, rising up and down with each one of your breath. Your fingers brush his curl slowly as you hear his breathing slacken. You were giddy thinking about him being at peace with you, too.

His arms were closed tightly around your body, never letting you go. The movie was really advanced by now, the end was coming soon. It probably was something towards 11AM. Usually, you would have gone knock at your friend's house but there was no need now as you already saw her earlier.

When the movie fatefully ended, the credits start to roll but none of you moved an inch. Ethan rubs his cheeks against your chest before sighing happily. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep ? No, certainly not. He loves horror movie. He wouldn't fall asleep when one is ongoing.

He was cute here. You were delighted to think he trusted you enough to let his guards down and sleep with you. You were his safeplace. And he was yours. Your fingers trail down on his back where you draw small patterns dreamily. You write things, that cross your mind. You simply scratch him. His sudden speaking startle you. Your hand stopping evey movements.

"Are you sleeping far from here, today ? Every movements of his jaw hitting slightly on your chest. 'today' because he knew about your frequent change of home.

Relaxing, you continue to caress his back lovingly.

-No, not really. But I don't sleep there anymore.

The hotel too was starting to worry you. Like the building was shrieking on you. You don't know what was scarier, to be alone or to never be. And now that you found such a warm place, you don't want to leave. Ever.

-Why ?

-Scare me, s'all.

-You can sleep here tonight, if you want.

-Why ? Your decision was already made; you'd sleep here. You knew it the second he offered you to stay the night. But you wanted to see his arguments to convince you.

"Let me be with you." his sentence made a shiver run down your back.

Did that stalker fucked you up so hard you had chill even thinking about them? It was just a damn sentence. Everyone can say it. For god's sake, it's Ethan saying it of all people. Even if he awoke this uneasy feeling back, you couldn't blame him. He didn't know about the sign the criminal had shown you. You didn't tell him that much detail, only saying they had indeed brought creepy signs but omitting what was written on it. And Ethan said it so prettily, too. Yes, of course you'd be with him.

He told you you never slept here before and that you'd be safe anyway since he's here and don't plan on leaving you. So you accepted. It was really early in the day but the both of you were getting sleepy because of the calm and comfort of the situation. He offered you to go to his room which you accepted. After guiding you to there, he tells you he has to go grab something and that he'd be back really quick.

And he did, in fact, came back really quick.

By then, you were already sprawled out on his bed. You had time to see the mess he had scattered everywhere. The carboard, the books, the drawings, some letters, too. And you even found out about his second phone. The lockscreen was a generic one, the one you have by default, as if he just got it recently. But the phone wasn't new, it seems in contrary really old as it was broken at some area.

Ethan arrives in the room with a small plastic blue square packaging, you don't have time to see what it was that he throws it under the bed. You don't pay it too much attention. Playing mindlessly with his other phone in hand, you take off and put back the phone case of it to entertain yourself.

"You got two phones ? you ask even though you kind of knew the answer already.

-Oh, yes. One is for games only, the other is the one I'm really using. Did you went on it ?

-No, don't worry, I won't frisk into your secret criminal life."

He smiles before taking the phone out of your hand. He places it in the drawer of his nightstand. Ethan falls on top of you, taking your breath away for a moment. You laugh and hit his back for him to get away from you and he just laugh heartly before letting himself fall beside you.

He lays down, setting his head on his arm, looking up at you with stars in eyes. Sometimes, he's so pretty it hurt physically to look at him. Starting to get embarrassed by his insistent look, you find something to say.

-Why do you have so much pieces of cardboard anyway ?

-I make placards out of them.

With a fond smile, Ethan stares straight at your eyes. As if waiting for you to say something. You would have ask questions about his 'placards ' if not for the sudden interest he was displaying in you, which, instead, made you change subject without really noticing it. A nervous laugh escaping you.

-Why are you looking at me like that ? Is there an undertone ? Am I supposed to understand something ?"

He shakes his head negatively, displaying a small mischievous smile. He could be such a goblin at times ! Wanting to make him swallow his pride, you lean towards him and kiss his lips. Ethan smiles and moves his lips with yours.

Your arm set down on his waist and soon the kiss get heated. Ethan's body is burning, his breath is too. You don't let each other breath, as soon as you separate from each other, you plunge back in. Physically needing the contact.

You rise on your knee, arching your back to kiss him still laying flat on the bed. Soon, he joins you by rising as well. Both of you on your knees, face to face, eating each other's face. Ethan's hand are mahandling you to sit on his thights. Then, with his surprising strenght, he starts sliding you on them. Your heating pussy rubbing directly on the fabric of his pant. Your hand instinctivly goes to rub the growing tent in his trousers. The area was hot, when you slide your fingers on it, it would budge.

Ethan whimpers, thrusting his hips against yours. You straddle him completly, framing his his body with your legs. You rub his tent against your clit for some frictions. It was aching and growing more desperate by seconds.

"I... I wanna have sex with you." Ethan says softly.

You kiss his cheek, going for his neck. You answer with a meek 'me too' before sucking the skin of his neck. Ethan backs his head, already out of breath. He gives you full access to his body, still rutting desperatly his hips into yours.

But you were growing impatient. You lift your body from him, making him whine at the contact loss, before sliding your fingers behind the elastic of his pants. You slip it down to his knees before you start salivating at the sight of his hard cock already drooling for you.

He didn't have any underwear. That's why you could feel him so close to your core.

Your hand touch his thight, caressing gently his body. Making sure to avoid the area he need you the most. Ethan try to touch himself, tired of your teasing, but you slap his hand away. He whines and looks up at you with teary eyes. Silently begging you to do something. It was impossible for you to resist him.

Your hand grabs his cock in one motion, you could feel it pulse and its warmth propagate in your hand. It was already so so wet because of all his precum, your hand was sliding so easily you could have thought he came multiple times already. Gently, you start to move your hand on all its lenght slowly. The boy props himself on his elbows and look at the scene before him. Ethan sighs happily, eyes closing and head backing. He's in heaven, he thinks. But not entirely, as he looks at you still clothed.

"Want to... Want to finger you..." he pleas.

In front of a boy so desperate, and being incredibly horny, you slide your pant down, making sure your underwear went with it. Ethan lose every one of his braincells when he sees your bare pussy glistening with your love juice. He wanted to lick it bad. That's the only one fanstam he ever had that help him getting off so hard he can't move for a whole minute. He wants to drown himself in your juice. But you have others projects.

You guide his pointer finger to your lips. Ethan starts caressing it and smear your juice everywhere. His lift up another finger and start passing both of them on your lips.

"Here, you have to touch here." you say, pointing to your clit.

You move briefly to bring your genitals closer. You could feel each other's warmth emanating from your core. Seeing him try to touch you was so hot. He was listening to everything you said.

Soon getting the hang of it, he starts circling your clit, applying different pressure on it to see which one were you reacting the most to. Slowly, you quicken your pace on his hard cock. As if to reward him for being such a good boy. He was in a trance, eyes closing and opening. And when they opened, they were staring with a utmost care at your moving breast throught your shirt. Your nipples were hard and were poking through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to it. Understanding his want, you lift your shirt above your collarbone with your free hand. Ethan can't seem to take off his eyes of you. They're probably the first pair of breasts he sees in real life after all.

"Fuck... You're so pretty, love." you speed up on his shaft at his praise. "Fuck, fuck...

-You can touch baby.

-I can?"

He stops all movements to your pussy, your frown but let him discover his needs. It was his first time, you needed to let him have a little fun. His free hand touch one of your breast, massaging it then weighten it in the palm of his hand. He smiles like an idiot, an idiot so cute you let him do what he wants with you. His other, wet, hand pinch lightly your sensitive bud.

Your free hand slap his arm to make him understand he did it too hard. He sends you an apologatic smile.

"They're like stress ball."

Amused by the weird comparison, your chuckle. Still impatient to come, you guide your hand higher on his cock to caress his tip and rub it. His face contorts in pleasure, browns frows and mouth ajar. His forehead fall on your shoulder while his fingers go back down near your entrance. His hips were thrusting into nothing but your hand. Obscene wet noises were resulted. You were hot, terrribly hot but so was he.

Ethan's small puff of breath sends chill in your body. His whimpers couldn't be replaced with anyone else. Your hand was all wet and sticky, as was his. Ethan decides to enter once again two of his digits in you. Your head falls back and you sigh happily at finally scratching that itch in you.

"Curl your fingers, E." you whisper.

He hums and do as told. Curling his fingers in you, he starts to thrust them in and out at a slow pace, adopting the same sensuality you used to jerk him off. You accelerate, your hand no longer lingering on the entire shaft. Sometimes, you'd stop completly to hear him whine. Your thumb caressing his cock's veins.

"Baby please..." he pleas.

Ethan starts kissing sloppily your shoulder, your neck. You, on the other hand, take his hand to guide the thrust of his fingers, angling them correctly for them to touch that spongy spot inside. His fingers were long and thin, that was a part of him you absolutly loved. You always had a thing for pretty hands and his were beautiful.

"What do you want, love? you ask tenderly.

-Tell me you love me..."

You nudge his hair with your nose and he looks up. Staring at his eyes, you see them wet with tears. You kiss him instantly. Playing with his tongue with yours, your hand moving faster and faster. You stop the kiss to tell him you love him and he bites his lips, eyes closing.

His breath is jerky, uneven. You press his palm against your clit, rubbing it while you push his fingers inside you again. You feel a knot tighten. You won't last long.

"Tell me you love me.

-I love you E, you're doing so good.

-Again..."

You said it as many times as he needed to feel better. His hips stuttters, his cock quivers. His words are slurred to each other, resulting in incomprehensible blabbering. You don't lose the rythm, keeping the same pace until he'd eventually come.

-Love you so..." he whines.

His body tense, his breath stops. You can only hear the wet sounds your hand is producing. He doesn't utter a sound until spurts of cum smear on your hand and belly. Feeling at ease, he moans a last time from relief and breath again.

You're not far behind. Ethan being pratically knocked out, you grind on his hand. You close your thighs around it, ensuring it stay inside. Your legs are shaking, wave of hot and cold invade you. You plunge his fingers inside but, to your surprise, Ethan regains control and start pounding into you to get you to your end.

He kisses your neck while you finally come on his fingers, sweaty and disvesheled. You swear one last time when he withdraws his fingers. You stay here for a while, just hugging , breathing and basking in each other's presence.

After some minutes, you decide to go shower together. You end up finally getting a good night of sleep, cuddled in his strong arms.

The next day, Ethan and you had a stupid satisfied smile on your face. Both happy to be here. You kissed and confessed your love to each other all morning until eventually he had to leave for work. Sadly, you had things to do, too. Ethan offered you to stay and sleep here for a few nights because he wanted to stay close to you.

You liked this idea. Of course you liked it, you love Ethan. And to convince you further, he told you his roomate wouldn't mind. So naturally you accepted. You were embarassed at the idea of bothering his roomate but you decided you would just sleep here, and the day, you'd let the apartment free. It was his too, after all. Not only Ethan's. There is no way you'd let someone feel excluded in their own house.

Grabbing your phone, you click on your friend's number. You call her, the ringing echoes three times and no one answer. Somehow begrudgingly, you resume yourself at simply sending a text. Just for you to instantly forgetting your sorrow as she answers. The discussion was quite simple, she was telling you she was at her grandma right now. She was bored and wanted to know how you were doing.

'I'm going back to my dear haunted apartment, probably gonna die. Wish me luck.' you texted. She put a little more time answering this one. It's possible it triggered something in her. After everything she endured. 'nobody will hurt you as long as i'm alive' she said. She simply changed subjects after that. Asking you about the cute guy you told her about in the letters. And so you explained everything. Every time you tried to offer to call her, she'd decline. You were still sad she didn't want to talk to you but you were telling yourself you needed to be patient.

On a happier note, you decided to leave the place to go to your own apartment.

To one point, you should have known better than be too happy about your improving situation. Of course, it was well too soon for you to consider everything better. But you were probably stupid because the fall hit you much harder than you could've prepared yourself for. Oh, the pain you felt when reality had finally caught you. You thought you were going to die when you came back home to simply grab some clothes. (Ethan told you to do so.)

Your door was ajar. But it wasn't your doing. No, of course it wasn't you. Your apartement terrified you, why would you come here more ofthen than needed ? You felt your body freeze but you quickly overcame the feeling. That's it. You needed it to end. This fucking stalker had ruined you. You and your life. You sent a text to Ethan, telling him that if you do not call him after twenty minutes, he needed to call the cops. He didn't answer. He was at work. It was well past eleven by now.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it was going to collapse on the ground, and you with it. Slowly, aware of every sound around you, you push the door. Your livingroom was as messy as you had left it. At one difference, the wall. Every frame you had put up on the walls were thrown away. Most of them on the ground and broken, with shattered glasses everywhere.

Why would the creep empty the walls ? To write on it. Of course they would write on it. You laugh bitterly for yourself. You couldn't see their stupids fucking signs anymore, so they had to improve. To force you to read their creepy obsessive text. You hear the crushing of a broken piece of glass, as if someone had stepped on it. But it wasn't you.

You're on alert. Every one of your senses on crisis. Was your mind playing tricks on you ? It was possible in this hellish house who did nothing but give you nightmares recently. You don't realize how you stopped breathing. Only calming when three long minutes had gone without another sound to be heard.

Nothing is here. You're alone, you think. Everything is good. You'll just grab your stuff and leave. Regaining your breath, you bring your attention back on the wall. Words were written on it in deep crimson red. Is that blood ? No, it can't be. Probably paint to give a creepy look that'll catch your attention. You approach the wall to better understand the message.

'She's not here anymore'

The need to throw up almost won. A dark feeling in your guts was telling you 'she' was your friend. But you didn't know. She responded to you, after all. You talked to her. So she had to be okay. She had to. You put your hand on your belly to soothe that want to vomit. You take big breath before finally leaving the livingroom. You quickly make your way to your room where you meet your bare bed. Where are your sheets ? What the hell ? But you don't want to stay longer so you throw clothes in your bag in a hurry.

The front door slam shut. And you know it's the end.

You already feel the tears drowning your sight. Trying to stay silent, you hide in your closet almost empty with how many times you came here to grab clothes. Your hand clasp against your mouth to avoid doing any noise.

Slow footsteps can be heard in the empty apartment. With your shaky hands, you fail to unlock your phone. Your vision is blurry, you can't touch the correct keys. The worst is that you can't see where the creep is. If they stay silent, they can enter the room you're in without you even noticing. And this idea is horrifying. But on another side, you'd preferred them to kill you by surprise so you don't have to affront them.

Your cries intensify, in your despair, you drop your phone straight on the ground. The footsteps stops abrutly. Three distincts knocks are echoing on the corridor's wall. They are coming toward you. You're fucked. They're coming ! What do you do ? What did you do ? Why is this happening ?

Kneeling like you could in the closed space, you reach your hand to grab your phone. As soon as your finger grazes it, the phone vibrate and your ringtone start playing for the whole building to hear. No, no, no, no, no ! Ethan. Ethan is calling you. You pick up despite everything but as soon as you do so, the call is cut short. Fuck E, why would you do that !

The criminal's footsteps are louder, quicker, heavier. They're running. They're running here ! You hold the closet door shut with your both hands, praying for your life. You only have knives in your kitchen, but it's too late now. If you go out, they'll see you. You realized at that moment that whatever you were doing, you couldn't win. That you never even stood a chance against them.

Everything was illusion.

Nothing was improving, you knew it, in fact. You were lying to yourself, searching comfort in a man that don't even understand the dept of the problem. Of your problem. And your friend ? You don't want to talk about her. You don't want to open your eyes just yet. You just want to live in your nice little lies you made up for yourself. You're nice with them, in fact, you like them. Nobody wanted to help you anyway. They could have saved you, you and her, but nobody listened.

Now, it's too late.

The closet start to shake. Widening your eyes, you realize that the creep had start to punch it with their bare fist. You don't give a fuck about being heard anymore, you're bailing your eyes out. Begging for them to let you go, screaming, yelling, calling for help. Holding the door for dear life as if it was going to save you, because in your head it was. But the door didn't last long.

A hole is quickly created in the door. You thought you'd see someone's face, wether it be a man, a woman, whatever. But you saw a white plastic mask instead.

Ghostface.

Why was a damn Ghostface chasing after you? Was it all a sick joke from the start ? You swear you were seeing his eyes boring into yours through the mask. You swore you already saw them somewhere. Ghostface tilts their face to the side, as if mocking you. They were telling you that you were stuck, that it was the end. You hoped they'd kill you.

You couldn't live like this anymore.

In the hole of the closet, Ghostface pass his gloved hand. The latter lay on your shaky face, on your cheek to be exact. You feel the fabric against your skin and think of biting his fingers off. No, you'll angry him. If he's going to kill you, that it be in the least painful way.

"Ethan, right ? Does he treat you so well you forgot about me?" his changed voice said. A weird and creepy robotic voice, one you knew you'd never forget.

You were moving your head left to right. You didn't know why. Probably to tell you didn't want to die, probably to avoid looking into his eyes. He laughs, sounding like a rumbling.

"Ending things right now would be such a waste."

No ! You thought you were finally free ! Why would he chases you down for so long without acting on it !? His gloved hand retract and the door slowly open in an acute creaking. The man is finally revealed before you. He was wearing the whole outfit, the big black robe and the hood.

"It was fun. I give you a gift to reward you for these beautiful screams."

And the knife.

He had a knife in hand. And it was tinged red. Something in you told you it was her. Suddenly, the red writings on your wall had a different meaning.

"I hope you like it, I worked extra hard for it."

Out of nowhere, Ghostface takes your hand, force it open, and lay in it something before forcing it closed. He laughs deeply. One of his hand pat your head mockingly before moving up.

"See you later." he said, swinging his knife in a playful manner.

You were absolutely paralyzed. You didn't know what happened. You stayed up without moving for whoever say how long. When your legs finally stopped shaking, you decided to look what the killer had gave you. Slowly opening your hand, your knee buckle and you fall to the ground crying silently at the sight of a nip of your friend's hair.

You curled up on yourself before completly laying down on the ground, tightening the hairs in your hand close to your heart. She was not here anymore. You wanted to fucking die.

Ever since, Ethan was forgotten. He had tried to call you so many times you had blocked his number. You spent the rest of the day crying in your hotel's room. You resented him. So hard. He didn't answer, he was the one calling and giving your position to a fucking criminal, to a murderer! And he didn't answer. He didn't help, like everyone else.

One day later, neighbors complained about a smell coming from an apartment. You didn't cry when they found your friend's dead body. You didn't cry when cops came to interrogate you. The caretaker having told them about you. Your eyes contained so much hatred in them when looking at him the cops had to let him leave to get him away from you. You didn't cry telling the cops how many times you went to see them to ask for help, nor how many times did they reject you. You didn't cry when they told you she was dead for at least a week, and that her boyfriend was missing. You had no tears left in you. It had simply ended you.

All your lies, every single one of them, destroyed. But you needed them. Of course you weren't talking to her by text, you never did. And fuck, you don't even want to know who was answering instead of her. It was so obvious how she never wanted to call, how she was never leaving her house. But the eye you saw at the peephole. The fucking eye...

You don't want to think about it.

Ethan tried to talk to you. He went to your hotel and found you. You didn't bother to move this time as you were done with your life. He fell to his knee and started begging and crying for your forgivness. Did you even love him ? Or were you, are you, just lonely ? Unfortunately, you decided to forgot the anger you had against him when you realized he was the only thing you had. Your only support. The only one knowing you were a victim. You spent the days crying in his arms.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here, love. It's okay." he reassured you, again.

It was a routine, now. You'd sleep the days away and when you'd wake up, you'd find yourself crying inconsolably. Everything was your fault, you kept repeating in your head. She's fucking dead because of you.

You wanted to end it all but Ethan wanted you alive at every cost. He was brushing your hair, feeding, washing and changing you. You were a lifeless doll. Sometimes, his roomate would come and talk to you. Most of the times, you don't even realize he's talking to you, too lost in your thought to proceed his presence.

"It's okay, everything's okay."

Ethan hugs you firmly. Kissing your hairline. His t-shirt was damped. Your eyes were burning. Every time you closed them, the picture of your friend would come and haunt you, a new nightmare coming. You weren't able to think about something else anymore. But it was your fault. You put her in danger, you got her killed. It was you Ghostface wanted, not her. You got her killed.

"I want to leave..." you whispered in a voice so hoarse, so weak, it didn't sound like yours. His hand goes on the back of your head to pull you towards him.

"No, no my love. It's okay. I'll protect you. You won't be alone anymore." his leg goes over yours and crushes them to prevents you from moving.

Alone.

Have you ever been alone in your life ? No, he was here all along. He was watching you all along. You never were truly alone. He had your adress, your friend's adress, your number and even Ethan's name. No, he's always here. Lurking.

"Just... Stay with me, I'll protect you. Please, don't leave me." he begs.

He looked calm, surprisingly calm being given the situation. But you needed it, in a way. If he doesn't freak out, you don't need to. (you coudn't, even if you wanted to) He probably know what to do. It was too late for you but he could do something. Maybe. His behaviour was slightly comforting. It was dangerous, mostly for him. He probably didn't even know what he was doing, he probably didn't know what he was getting himself into, in fact.

But once, just for once, you wanted to be helped. You wanted someone to listen to your pleas. He was going to die, it was a fact. And yeah, maybe you were selfish, you were condamning him after all.

"I feel like I'm using you. Like I manipulated you. you say, mostly for your own conscience than for his safety.

-Use me, love. I don't care. Manipulate me, whatever. I swore I'd help you. And if I have to risk my life doing it, I'll do it. I love you. You don't know the things I'd do for you.

-Now, you're the one manipulating me...

It was true. He was forcing you to think you had a chance in getting out of this situation when you knew there were none.

-Oh baby, you have no idea how manipulative I can be to obtain what I want.

-If you say so." you whisper, drifting to sleep once again, knowing you'd wake up hours later in the same position, in the same problem and knowing you killed your friend.

[helpfandom]

Yandere! Batman Rouges Gallery x Platonic OCD! Reader PT.1

TAS Version! I have OCD and this is off of MY version and experiences with OCD. I would be most grateful if anyone had other ideas or plots (like the episode Lock-Up but with the reader.)

Reader's kind of... angry? I don't know how else to explain it.

TW//CW: Suicide (Mentions of, not anyone doing) Canon-typical violence, cursing.

Been sitting in my drafts for like months so might as well post it.

God, you couldn't believe it came to this. Honestly, why were you here anyway, it's not like you belong with the criminals. This was just so that they could try and teach the insane to be nicer, to not be criminals.

Honestly, they shouldn't have chosen you, you kind of belonged in here. The way that people would look at you when you twitched, a singular mis-fire in your brain made people think there was something wrong with you. Like you belonged with the freaks of Arkham. Well, one too many jokes about suicide and jokes of your trauma and BOOM! You've been chosen for our unpaid internship at Arkham, too bad you have to stay here you freak! God. It pisses you off to feel their stares of judgement on the streets.

To feel their pity. Batman saves you from a bridge too many times and you're involuntarily put in here.

You walked, two guards right beside you. Their shoes clacking against the tile. One of them was touching you and it made your body feel off. A misfire, and your head jerks to the right.

"Please stop touching me." They give you a stern look. Panic filters your brain. "I can walk myself. I'm a big kid." You crack a smile at the last part, makes it easier to tell when it's a joke.

They keep staring at you, you misfire, and then the second guard takes their hand off of your shoulder. Great. Now more people think you belong in here. Misfire. Misfire, this time nodding your head. Misfire. Jeezy creezy. "Sorry." You continue walking with them, but you can tell that they're staring at you. Or is iy the phenomena of Spotlight, where you delude yourself into thinking that everyone is staring at you? Nevertheless, you can feel them looking at you.

Not just the guards, but the inmates too, the other ones. The ones you belong with. Not the fucking insane criminals. They watch you, a teen, get walked- misfire -to the criminal side of the asylum. It's quiet, but there are whispers. Of course, part of you says that they're talking about you, but is it just because you're being moved to the criminals, or is it because you -misfire- look like you belong here? The other part says it's narcissistic to think they're talking about you. You reach the doors, steel, heavy steel to make sure that they don't cross over to the section you belong in, misfire, to the people that can be helped.

[vaspider]

I genuinely hope this isn’t too prying or intrusive, I am strictly asking out of curiosity but…. What…. Is going on with that 16 year old and why is it on a post about a house coat? Are you ok?

I'm fine.

That kid has been fixated on me since I said, basically, that the French Revolution killed a bunch of innocent people and isn't something to be emulated.

For the past 3 weeks, since I told her to leave me alone on Tumblr, she's been stalking me across the internet, digging up every possible way to contact me, and sending elaborate death threats along with suicide threats. I've turned off the contact forms on my professional website and NK. She's sent asks here and contacted me from multiple Tumblrs, multiple Facebook and Instagram accounts, TikTok, LinkedIn, Reddit, YouTube, BlueSky, and multiple email accounts. I'm pretty sure I'm missing something, though I do have it all screenshotted and saved. She found my phone number and left multiple threatening voicemails, and she kept contacting my business, sending death threats to places where my employees, including my younger brother, had to deal with them.

She seems to think that I'm a man, and that I'm attempting to use magic on her, and that she can threaten me into doing whatever it is she wants. I don't really understand what's going on in her head, and I'm not trying to do so. I don't really read the things she writes.

At this point, the FBI is involved - she's been sending death threats pretty much every day for about a month now with a few breaks here and there - and I've been declining to respond to her for the vast majority of that time, hoping that she'd get bored, or, hopefully, that someone who cares about her would realize how deeply, deeply unwell she is and get her help before this becomes a criminal matter. I really, really don't want to be put in that position, but I also can't ask the people who work for me (some of whom are my family) to deal with a constant barrage of messages detailing how if I don't publicly apologize for ... fuck all if I know or care... she's going to "slit [my] throat like a Sicilian" and throw my body in the Willamette River.

I really, really, really just want this kid to leave me alone. I didn't seek her out - she sought me out - and I'm not interested in talking to or debating with a 16 year old. But, also, the things that she's been doing for the past month are crimes and truly beyond the pale.

As to why that's on a video about a housecoat... your guess is as good as mine. Her last comments before this were on the two public videos on my abandoned YouTube account, both of which were process videos about making patches, and she left death threats on a post on my old personal Instagram that I made on the day of the Tree of Life shooting. It has nothing to do with me or what I'm saying - she seems to just randomly pick things to add her bizarre urban fantasy VASpider fanfic to.

Please leave that person alone, everybody. She is a third my age and very clearly deeply unwell. I'd been ignoring her, but I'm kind of hoping against hope that knowing that, yeah, actually, what she's doing is a crime, people take that seriously, and I really really really don't want her to fuck up her life? will convince her to stop.

I'm not afraid. I'm mostly just tired and very, very sad. It is really upsetting to see someone who is so out of alignment with consensus reality, and it's even more upsetting when that person is so young. I feel deeply sorry for her, both that she's unwell in a way that's clearly causing her harm, and that she doesn't seem to be getting the help she needs from the people around her. I hope it's just that the people around her don't realize what's going on and that someone can make them aware, because it is just... rotten... to see someone that young making such a mess of things.

I don't want to talk about this further. I've been avoiding talking about it publicly at all, but at the point where we're closing on a month... I dunno. I hope saying something directly and making it clear this isn't going to go the way she thinks gets it through to her.

I'm gonna go play with my dog.

[mitochondriaandbunnies]

Miami Vice S1E23: Lombard

Sonny and Rico must guard a mobster before his court testimony.

We've made it to the S1 finale (although I will reiterate that this should've been the second to last episode and Evan should've been the finale)

I like this episode; I like Dennis Farina; I like Sonny's difficulty with how much he likes Dennis Farina; I like that this episode forces Sonny to think about the humanity of the people he's working "against"

Much like how I'm not a huge fan of the Other Val Episodes after S1, I do not particularly think there ought to have been a sequel episode to Lombard... but Michael Mann loves Dennis Farina a lot, so like, what're you gonna do

Lombard opens with Al Lombard talking with his son Sal Lombard; I could not be more tickled by the fact that for some reason Lombard Sr. is clearly an American-Italian from Chicago and Lombard Jr. appears to be a Hispanic New Yorker. Where did your son pick up his accent, Dennis

Tubbs arrests one of Lombard's goons; I swear the goon is one of the Boat Bears from Made for Each Other

When Lombard gets supinaed (the inciting incident of the episode), Sonny watches him (long before the camera focuses on Sonny) with what reads as intense, almost awed boyishness, like a kid watching their favorite athlete to copy their moves. It's weird, because at this point Sonny believes Lombard ordered the hit on Barbara Crawford (Sonny's old flame from One Eyed Jack) and verbally expounds upon how much he hates him. Nonetheless, from the beginning you get this odd sense that as much as Sonny hates him, he's also deeply fascinated by him

John Santucci returns, playing a different character than Corrupt CIA Agent Dale Menton. He's Lombard's duplicitous assistant here, also making this episode a pre-reunion for Crime Story

Castillo explains to Sonny and Rico that Lombard will end up getting killed if he testifies; Sonny says he hopes that's exactly what happens. He does not sound convincing-- you get the sense that he thinks that's how he ought to feel, but can't quite manage to internalize those feelings having now witnessed even a modicum of humanization of Lombard

I am completely obsessed with the decor in the malt shop Santucci meets his contact in. Why is there a giant cement cake in the middle of the dining room. Why doesn't EVERY restaurant have one.

Switek is apparently eating hot dogs to... lower his cholesterol?

In Lombard's hospital room, Tubbs sniffs a single rose while Crockett berates Lombard; he appears to steal it on the way out

On a related note, Lombard is constantly framed by flowers

While doing surveillance, Sonny suggests Lombard is on the way to the movies and Rico, in what I can only describe as The World's Worst Australian accent, says, "Crockett, never bring more than one suit case to the theater." Sonny responds "Oh really?" in the same accent, because they are a) in love and b) the dumbest idiots on earth

Thus follows a gorgeously moody low-speed chase (so low speed they politely go through a toll booth) set to U2's Wire. The lyrics speak to guilt and innocence and cold fire in a cold man's eyes, seemingly focused on Lombard's criminality. The full song, however, is about suicide by drug overdose. It's a desperate track, ending on the ambiguous lines:

I give you hope Here's the rope Here's the rope Now swing away

Are Sonny and Rico providing Lombard with a little bit of hope, or are they simply setting him up to die? Are the writers equating a life of crime with the self-destructive seduction and allure of an addiction to hard drugs? Are we supposed to hear the pain and need throughout the song as Lombard's, or Sonny's? Or both?

Lombard realizes that Charlie (Santucci) set him up; Sonny (in defense of himself and Lombard) shoots Charlie during the fallout. He apologies, saying he was "just doing his job." Much like the rest of his defensiveness surrounding Lombard, this feels very misaimed-- he was quite literally doing his job.

Lombard, at the safehouse, joking: Well, it's not the Grand bay. / Sonny, still pissed about everything forever: WOULD YOU PREFER THE YMCA

Rico gets sent out for pasta ingredients and Sonny sulks; immediately after dinner Sonny seems to have forgotten he's supposed to hate Lombard. The post-dinner scene reminds me immensely of the scar-comparison/U.S.S Indianapolis scene from Jaws-- three men around a table, making revealing small talk in the still danger of the night, two of whom are positioned as uncomfortable parallels (Sonny/Lombard and Hooper/Quint) and a third something of an outsider (Rico and Brody). Sonny has at this point warmed up to Lombard even though he knows he should hate him, the same way Hooper warms up to Quint even though Quint has been a menace to him up to this point. Sonny and Lombard talk fatherhood, and you get the distinct sense that the issues of being a Vice cop with a child and the issues of being a criminal mogul with a child are more or less the same.

Rico appears not to gamble, which is interesting to me-- we only even get implication and subtext on the topic, but he's really not much into vices. He doesn't smoke, is a vegetarian, doesn't seem to gamble, and drinks progressively less as the series goes on. He's never positioned as particularly moral for this, nor as a stick in the mud. He's just slightly outside the world so many of the other characters are a bit too deep in-- vice doesn't stick to him like it does to others.

Near the end of the episode, Lombard states the theme of the show out loud to Sonny-- you and I aren't that different. Sonny responds with: "Wroooong. I don't murder people."

Which uh

You are a TV cop, Sonny, you actually do do that

And uh, later in the series you. Uh. Well.

We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess.

I think what works really well about this episode is that tension. This is the 3rd "Sonny is faced with a parallel that hints at a likely tragic future for him" episode, but unlike with Arthur Lawson and Evan, Lombard doesn't appear to be torn apart by the gulf between his job and his convictions. While the implication is that Lombard may die after the episode ends, Sonny doesn't know that-- his final moment with Lombard ends with a smile and a joke. Sonny sees his own convictions-- loyalty, love of family, living by one's own terns-- mirrored in Lombard, a career criminal, and it doesn't destroy him. He's very much like Sonny in many ways, but he's able to live with his own cognitive dissonance in a way Sonny, Artie, and Evan cannot, perhaps because he is simply able to admit that what he is doing is wrong. Sonny isn't there yet-- he has to be able to believe that what he's doing as a cop is right partially because he doesn't believe he's capable of doing good in any other way, but partially because it's painful. There's a penance aspect to Sonny's career in vice, and from his perspective, Lombard doesn't have to pay it. And despite all this, Sonny likes him-- Lombard shows him another possible vision of the future-- and he just doesn't know how to feel about it. It's still not quite as powerful a season ending as Evan, but Farina and Johnson sell it.

[burritowitch]

Lonnie's 'in case of my death' note from shadow of the bat #41 which according to @lesbiananitafite reads a hell of a lot like a suicide note because he is Not Normal, written out below because it is so hard to read as is:

It looks like tonight must have been that night. I know I've caused you a lot of pain and grief over the past couple of years, and I'm sorry for that. You thought you were bringing me up to be the All-American boy, playing ball on the weekends, studying hard to be a doctor or lawyer. Instead you got a criminal. My memory is tainted, my good intentions derided. And, probably, I'm dead.

How to begin to explain how I feel? The world is like an alien planet to me, the brittle laughter and hollow fun of a theme park overlaying the nightmares of war and discrimination and brutality. The people society respects-- the great and the good-- are, in most part, the small and the evil to me. It's as if I see with laser eyes, burning away the surface illusions that hide the fact that we're zombies-- puppets controlled by somebody else. Again I'm sorry, because I know you're upset. You're good people-- nearly everybody is good people-- and that's what the elite take advantage of. But society is changing. The information revolution allows every man to see the great and good are no better than him. The old power structures and their fascist ways cannot compete with the anarchy of tomorrow's technology. The time of the common man is coming. No longer will he have to march to battle as fodder for bankers and arms makers. No longer will he live in a fog of deceit stoked up by politicians' lies. The future is freedom... and all I ever wanted was to hasten its birth.

I think it all began with Xuasus. I was eleven when he became my penpal... Every month I wrote to tell him the wonders of America-- Every month he wrote back with tales of hovels and soldiers and the brutal repression that made up his life. After a year, his letters suddenly stopped. Mine were returned "Not Known." Another year passed before I found out why he Xuasus wrote once more, a single sheet scribbled in some seedy back alley. His father had been arrested and not heard from since. His mother took ill. His sister died of malnourishment. At the age of 11, Xuasus was fending for himself on the streets. Remember I asked you to help me find him, Dad? You said it was another country, the rules were different there. We could do nothing. But I couldn't just forget a friend like that. I started to haunt the library. I found out Xuasus' country was a dictatorship, at war with Marxist guerillas, with ordinary people caught in the crossfire. I found out the guns came from Europe, and Russia... and here. A few men made big profits, while half a world away, poor people suffered. I read about war and the history of war, and the psychology of war, and the horrors of war. You never knew it but--

That's when I went through those months of nightmares. Remember? Anyway, I soon realized something-- almost all wars were caused by only one man, or one small group of men. And every time the elites ordered 'Fight!' it was the ordinary men who became canon fodder-- and ordinary families followed him into oblivion.

I learned that the state is more important than the individual. I learned that politics is soaked in blood. But I couldn't accept that it had to be that way. Remember how crazy I was about books, Dad? I used to make you take me to the bookstore every Saturday. Flying saucers, cults, conspiracy theory, religion, the occult... I drank it up, tried in vain to make sense of it all. Then I discovered Scudder Klyce's "Universe" and the jigsaw finally fell into place.

Scudder Klyce worked out the secret of humanity. Vox populi, Vox Del. The voice of the people is the voice of God. The elites are parasites, vampires sucking on the life-blood of man, turning everything good and decent into foul corruption! That's when Anarky was born. I couldn't help Xuasus-- but I could give the people of Gotham a voice, no matter how small, against the forces that oppress them.

--If I am dead, please don't think ill of me. I only wanted to bring a little sanity into an insane world for a little while, I was something no one else had ever been... the voice of the people. One day-- and it won't be long-- the tyrants will die away, scorned and mocked by their former victims. One day you'll see that I'm right; maybe then you'll be proud to say "My son did that."

All my love, Anarky (alias Lonnie Machin)

[cocktailjjrs]

Why does everyone hate Mori soo much!!!!

The show would be soo bland without his sorry ass interfering every now and then.

I actually like the way his character is presented!

(No hate please, if you don't like mori feel free to skip)

So I've been doing a bit research and kinda a character study for a fic i'm writing. And ofc Mori has a part in it.

And so, i go on and look through all his scenes. Read through a few fics to see his interactions with other characters. And do a bit on character analysis as a whole.

It baffles me how people just downright hate him or plain misunderstand his Character as whole.

Like, i don't usually try to defend characters online because everyone has their reasons and rationale, but the whole thing with Mori seems so absurd to me, because we've seen the villains do soo much worse!

Canonically speaking, while he has done some bad shit, he's not the worst in the series either!!!

BSD has always taken the 'it can't get any worse than this' phase and proved it wrong. Mori was supposed to be 1st/2nd season's antagonist.

And no, i don't mean to say that he is not evil. He is downright evil, a mastermind through and through. He's the Port Mafia's boss for gods sake, the most dangerous underground organization, he has a reputation to live up to!

Yes, he is a calculating bastard. He measures each and every move and knows about warfare in depth, and he wields his knowledge as a weapon very well.

Is he a paedophile? Maybe. It's been implied once or twice (if i'm not wrong)

Was his treatment of yosano wrong? Definitely! and he is an ass for that!

But he is SUPPOSED to be an ASS!!! That's the whole point of that character! And i believe those are the character that bring sooo much excitement to the storyline!

But everyone seem to have misunderstood his character soo much or just doesn't want to see the whole picture. And I used to think Chuuya was misunderstood!!!

You remember, when in 15, Dazai was given his first mission as a PM member and that time Mori said 15!Dazai reminded him of himself?

Now think back to what 15!Dazai was -

a teen

suicide maniac

a genius who has never been surprised

manipulative freak

acting carefree and harmless but having a killing intent hidden in plain sight

Now put it in this perspective,

Mori had a life before war that we have no idea about. He was a doctor. He was desperate to win the war by any means, even if it included bringing a child in the military camp, even if it meant keeping a death loop going on and on, even if it meant permanently traumatizing the soldiers.

But WHY?

Mori, as it has been stated multiple times, is someone who is always calculating and rational. He does not let his emotions overtake his decision making, thus making him cold towards others. But there must be a reason why he turned out to be so.

After war, he started working underground, creating a neutral zone for criminals. He knew Natsume sensei before that time. I always wounder why would Natsume entrust his vision to someone like Mori (along with Fukuzawa), if he was really a lost case.

After the whole fight with Fukuzawa over Yosano; he turned to take control of Port Mafia. Maybe he wanted to take Yosano with him then, to create an army of unstoppable ability users.

But the war was over. Then why would he need to do that?

Mori is one of those few characters whose backstory is not at all known to us. I can only think of Dazai and Fyodor other than him with no clear backstory. This makes him a dangerous wild card in a lot of situations. We saw that with Tachihara and Verlaine (completely different circumstances but instead of killing them he kept them close)

But then i read fics that depict him as feral and unhinged, portraying him as a predator who took advantage of poor poor Chuuya and/or Dazai, making them do horrible stuff without their consent.

Like, DID WE EVEN WATCH THE SAME SHOW?

Dazai and Chuuya have been unhinged wayyyy BEFORE they met each other or Mori.

Dazai is not some soft kid, who was physically and sexually assaulted, he was not made to behave tough with Akutagawa. And he certainly was not afraid of Mori. Does Dazai have PTSD related to Mori? Maybe, but in regards to Oda's death. That's it.

Chuuya is not someone who would sit still and take punishment from scalpels and whatnot because he fucked up a mission. Mori is not a fool to send Chuuya on a death mission just because he is afraid he'll take his place or to spite Dazai.

Does this bring a rather angst narrative to Soukoku? Yes it does. Does it make sense? if it's cannon compliant, no it does not!

Soukoku does not need Mori to be the bad guy to come together!

(i think he is no 1 Soukoku shipper himself)

He is not soft but he is not unhinged either. He knows how the ways of war work and he knows there can be no emotions involved if you have to win the war.

You don't always get such characters who are so morally grey, they do everything bad, they are supposed to be evil but still, the plot will be lost without them. Mori is such a great example of that.

Wanting to have peace and staying by the rightful path is all well and good. But where there is light, there will be darkness (because it's definition itself says its absence of light, so you can't exactly have one without the other). And without anyone to keep a check on that darkness, it will consume all.

Without Mori taking over Port Mafia, if we recollect how the previous boss had lead, Yokohama would have been way too bloodier and chaotic than it is now.

Plus, i don't think if Mori was such a bad boss, all of Port Mafia would jump in to protect him against agency during the Cannibalism arc. Hell, even if the grunts did not have a say in it, the executives and commanders did. And we saw them all - Chuuya, Kouyou, Kajii, Black Lizards; hell even Akutagawa and Higuchi were there! And that fight was after he had insisted no altercations with the agency.

My point is, can i have a normal representation of such a great character?

[spopsalt]

I found all of these on Pinterest TODAY. And I’m only gonna be able to unpack SOME of them.

“Better than the rest of the female population”? Jfc, did whoever make that one hate women or something? Because Catra is the lowest bar for a person. Not even a bar, that chick is the fucking floor.

I don’t even understand what the Jesus one is trying to say. But I don’t think I want to. Im pretty sure whoever made that is susceptible to falling into a cult. Which is fair, since this fandom essentially is one.

“We wants S4 Catra.” First off, I feel like they’re specifically saying S4 bc thats the season most people agree she’s legal. Second, that’s literally Catra ar her worse. Look, I understand liking villains. Im a simp for villain characters. But something tells me the type of person who made that meme doesn’t understand liking a villain and acknowledging they’re a villain. They probably think S4 is the best because she’s ‘Mommy’ or whatever, and would probably defend everything she did in that season and pretend she wasn’t a villain, without realizing S4 Catra (Every Catra really) would literally let someone die for being an inconvenience, try to murder suicide someone to prove a point, send someone to a death prison for saying no, and would essentially rip out someone’s pacemaker for a laugh. Yes, the perfect partner. 😒

“Why can’t Catra be real?” Well… Catra specifically doesn’t. But people like her do. Most of them are war criminals, dictators, politicians, mass murderers, abusers, ableists, rapists, people in positions of power, in jail, the type of person to hit someone for talking back, single for a reason, you get the idea. So, in short whoever is out here simping for Catra hopefully realizes the difference between reality and fiction when having a crush. And if they don’t, they need help. I’m not even getting into the fact about half of these are her as a minor (if not all of them.)

Btw, I’m not saying anyone who relates to Catra is a bad person like what I listed. You can relate to her and not actually be like her. But I think most if the toxic stans who ‘want someone like Catra’ are in it for the wrong reasons. I. E. ‘Mommy-dom Cat-girl UWU Catra’ which is literally just an abuser who has probably murdered a lot of people.

Exactly thank you! There's a disturbing amount of Catra simps and as a pansexual I can confirm I never simped for Catra (Or any fictional character if I'm honest) I mean I guess I could see why someone would due to some people simping for villain characters (For example I know a LARGE amount of the Rick and Morty Fandom want to smash Rick, there's literally an account dedicated to it) but I still don't get it. Whatever.

Also they should be happy that Catra isn't real because Catra would be in prison. Also who wants to be the Catra to my Adora...you mean who wants to be the abuser to my victim? I'm so incredibly distributed by Catra fans

[kriture]

Steve Harrington gets stabbed with a kitchen knife (he loves though dw) (he would totally die in real life though)

Summary: The people of Hawkins were sure that if anybodys parent(s) turned out to be a murderer, it would be Eddie Munson's father, Al. Al was a thief whose son would begin selling drugs and actually be accused for murder. Nobody would expect golden boy Steve Harrington's dad to be as short-tempered as he was.

Ships: Steddie and mention of Jancy

Warnings: graphic violence, low key child abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, very innacurate treatment of wounds, even less accurate healing rates, brief mention of suicide, hospitals, and descriptions of blood,

Note: No, I don't actually think Steve's dad is like this in canon. I just watched a tiktok of Vanessa and William from the fnaf movie with Love the Way You Lie by Rihanna and got inspired. Also, I refuse to not write like a soap opera. This isn't realistic at all. Also, pushing Greek/Italian!Steve agenda.

***

7:27 PM

When asked who would be capable of murder, Hawkins citizens always said, "Al Munson or his kid."

It was the obvious answer. Al had a criminal record and was arrested for murdering his wife. It was almost named a suicide, until police found the cause of death wasn't overdose but strangulation. The night police came to arrest Eddie's dad was the last time he ever saw him.

Eddie didn't feel for his dad; he hated him. He believed every word the police told him about his father, but be still visited.

"I saw you two arguing, dad. You threatened her!"

"Listen, kid. I'm telling you, I loved your mother. If anybody killed her, it was Miguel Harrington."

"Why would he kill mom?"

"He hated me."

"You didn't know the Harrington's back then. They moved here after mom died."

"You don't know anything. Just be careful of them. I'll bet you his son is even worse."

"It's you who doesn't know anything. Steve's nice, so is his dad. They're why I'm not in here with you right now."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"I won't."

Eddie dropped the phone and walked out of the room. When he got back to his trailer, he was greeted by Wayne and Steve watching football.

"Theres no fucking chance he made that- Oh. Hey Eddie." Steve's voice changed from frustration to love in a second. "How'd the talk with your dad go?"

"Alright, or as well as talking to a psycho can go." Eddie sat down next to Steve on the couch. "What's your dad like?"

"Why?”

"Just asking. You never talk about him."

"Well, he's loud, bossy, and... He's kinda just a rich asshole, you know?"

"No, I don't know. Like the ones on TV?"

"Yeah, actually."

Eddie leaned into Steve's chest.

"Who are we rooting for, Stevie?"

"Neither, we hate both of these teams. They both suck ass."

"Who do we hate?"

"Who do we hate less?"

"Well, I like the Chiefs, but Wayne likes the Falcons. This game isn't really that important though because 49ers are definitely gonna win."

"No, the Saints are gonna win."

"We'll see about that, Wayne."

The conversation was cut off by the phone ringing.

"I got it. Tell me who wins?"

Steve reminded Eddie that the game just started.

"Eddie?" The voice on the phone asked.

"Yes?"

"Great, is Steve there? He wasn't at his house."

"Robin?

"Yeah."

"Yes, Steve is here. He's watching football with Wayne."

"Can I come?"

"Yeah!"

The phone hung up from the other line.

"Robins coming over?" Steve asked.

"Mhm"

A few minutes later Robin came in, dropped off by Nancy who didn't stay sue to a date with Johnathan. They were all laughing and having fun. Eddie and Robin didn't really know what was going on, but they had fun badly commentating on what was going on. Life was good. When Robins curfew came (8:30), Steve drove Robin home and went back to his house. To his surprise, and slight dismay, his parents were waiting for him.

"Hey, papá"

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

"You're my son; I can tell when you're hiding something."

"I'm not, dad."

"Tell me!" Miguel's voice roared through the otherwise silent house.

"Okay okay I have a boyfriend and I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to be kicked out I'm so sorry."

"Why would we kick you out? Just don't get that new virus going around. Who is this mysterious boy?"

"His name's Eddie."

"Munson?" Steve's mother, Cora, chimed in.

"Yeah. I know he doesn't have the best reputation, but he's nice-"

"Stop seeing him." Miguel ordered.

"Why?"

"Because I said so!" Steve would swear the walls shook.

"Papá, can you just tell me why? I'm getting tired of not feeling like I have a say in what I do in my life."

Miguel grabbed a knife from the kitchen and began walking towards his son.

"Dad, please put the knife down."

"I'll give you a reason. His mother was a bitch. She would've stolen everything had I not done something-"

"What? Did you kill her or something?"

"And now I have to kill you. I'm sorry, son."

"Miguel! Put down the knife. Lets talk like a family. It's time we tell him our sins. They're old enough to know."

"No. No, they can never know."

"MIGUEL!"

Steve looked up at his dad with a knife shoved above his right chest, more towards his collarbone if anything.

Miguel looked at his son with a mix of horror and numbness on his face.

"We should go, Cora."

"Okay.”

"Mamá, please.”

Cora looked at her husband, then at her son.

"I'm sorry, my boy."

The last things Steve heard were a door slamming and the car engine of his parents convertible starting. His breath shook before his eyes closed. He laid on the floor, hopeless.

***

8:38 PM

Eddie had realized that Steve left his watch in his trailer. He got into his van and left for Steve's house. Eddie knocked on the door.

"Steve, you left your watch!...... Steve?" He knocked again.

He peered through the window and saw a pool of blood on the floor. Eddie hastily opened the door.

"NO"

His voice could be heard from Türkiye. Tommy opened the door to his house and ran towards the house.

"Is everything okay- Holy shit! Um, Munson, do you think you can call an ambulance?"

Eddie nodded, tears falling like a raging waterfall. Tommy went to check on his pulse, slow but there.

"Yeah, it's a knife wound near the chest...They'll, um, be here soon."

"Okay, good news is that he's alive. Bad news is that I don't know how long he'll stay alive."

"He'll be okay. He's always been okay."

"I don't know...get some bandages. We have to stop the bleeding."

Tommy took Steve's shirt off and took the knife out of his chest before applying pressure to the wound.

"Other good news, it's only about a 2 or 3 inch cut."

"ANY CUT IS A BAD CUT!" Eddie ran in with towels and bandages.

"I'm trying to stay positive here! Put his head on your lap or just get his back off the ground. Now when I say 3, as soon as it leaves my mouth, put the bandages on his chest. 1..2..3 okay wrap it."

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

Sirens interrupted the bickering

"Keep applying pressure to the wound. I'll carry him outside."

"Okay."

***

9:00

Nancy, Robin, Johnathan, and the kids arrived at the hospital. Police questioned Tommy about what he heard that night, not much, he was watching football. A nurse walked up to the party.

"Is it looking alright? Is he alive?" Robin asked.

"He is alive, stable. He's still unconscious, but it looks promising. He's already healing quickly."

"Do the cops think it was attemptee homicide?"

"You'll have to ask the cops for that."

"When will he wake up?" Lucas questioned.

"We don't know. It could be some time tonight, tomorrow, a few days, weeks, maybe a month. However, it would probably range from 4 days to 2 weeks."

"Okay."

"It's a good thing you found him when you did-"

The nurse was interrupted by a scream of bloody murder. She hurried to the room.

"So much for 4 days."

Hopper walked to them. "The police don't think this was an accident, but now they can ask Steve once he's ready."

The scream stopped a few seconds after it started.

"Steve, I need you take deep breaths for me. Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

***

9:45 PM

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"Like I told the nurses when they checked my memory, I got curious and stabbed myself. It wasn't attempted homicide."

"Have you had thoughts of suicide before?"

"It wasn't like that. I just wanted to see what would happen... Look, it really isn't something to investigate.

"If you don't want to press charges, then there isn't anything we will do."

"There isn't anybody to press charges against."

The officer walked out, and Robin and Eddie walked in.

"Did you really do it to yourself?" Eddie grabbed Steve's hand and rubbed circles on his palm.

Steve shook his head no. "I'll tell you later... I'm sorry."

"Do you feel okay?" Robin asked him.

"Yeah."

"You were just laying there. Covered in blood. It made me realize how much I love you."

"I love you too, Eds."

Tommy walked through the door.

"What's he doing here?" Robin said.

"Okay, 1. Me and Steve may not be friends, but I don't want him to die, 2. I helped save his life."

"Thank you."

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I am." Steve jumped as the door shut following Tommy.

"Steve what really happened?" Robin asked.

"I can't say it here. I also can't stay at my house anymore."

"You could stay with any of us. I'm sure Claudia would welcome you, youre practically Dustins brother, Wayne treats you like his son-in-law, and my parents love you.

"We could talk about it later, Robs."

"Okay"

***

7:00 AM

Steve woke up on the hospital bed.

"You spent the night with me, Eds?"

"Yeah, how are you feeling?"

"As good as somebody who just got stabbed can be."

"Please, tell me who did this to you."

Steve signaled for Eddie to lean in and whispered in his ear, "it was my dad."

Eddies eyes widened in realization.

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

This will probably get a second part. Maybe a third if you guys want it.

I apologize for not knowing anything about football or medicine.

This isn't proof read either.

I'm sorry for the soap opera ass plot and dialogue. Dynasty (2018) got me going fucking crazy.

[damnfandomproblems]

758648137243049984

First of all, like someone else said, the same logic and arguments you apply to ships also applies to violence in fiction. The two are kinda interchangeable. Murder, terrorism, torture, those kinds of things are wrong and hurt people in real life so I don't know why most antis are okay with it in fiction even when it happens to kids. If ships influence people then fictional violence will too. If it really worked like that, then the fact you're up in arms over ships but okay with violence is kinda worrying. If one is wrong, then both are wrong. If one doesn't work like that, then neither does the other.

Lastly, what people think romanticizes something is often subjective, and in my own experience, just writing about it makes them think you're condoning it. For example, before I joined Tumblr this year I used a different app where I often posted some of my writing. Including an old one I wrote in high school and reworked. The narrator suffered from depression and would often self-harm. The short passage I uploaded was her in the middle of attempting suicide. She self-harmed because she felt she needed to 'atone' for perceived slights. She attempted suicide because she wanted the pain to end and thought that was the only way it would. I based this writing on my own personal and my friends' experiences. I wasn't encouraging anything, I just wanted to work through things in hs and writing helped me. That work was taken down. It was my fault because it went against the rules of the group, but the reason the other person gave wasn't that it wasn't allowed by the rules, they called it "pro-self harm". They thought I wanted people to hurt themselves because my narrator had depression which caused her do do unhealthy things/think unhealthy thoughts, because that's how I feel sometimes.

I'm not saying everyone who writes this stuff is trying to work through trauma/pain in a healthy way. And they don't need to be a victim to write this stuff or write it for that purpose. Maybe they wrote it for fun or it's a fantasy kink, and there's nothing wrong with that. Maybe others will read it for the same reasons. But maybe a victim will read it and maybe it'll help them come to terms with what happened. And maybe you'll read the same thing but think it's glorifying something you hate.

Whether something glorifies a bad thing or not is often subjective. Just because you personally hate it doesn't mean it doesn't have a purpose or shouldn't exist.

And banning this stuff won't do anything. It will still be made, just in secret. It will still be posted, just on a hidden website. And the associated crimes irl won't decrease. Maybe they'll slightly go down, though I'd argue they'd most likely go up. Because if people are reading these things and hurting others cause of it, they already had those thoughts in their minds. If they're going after kids or abusing their partners after reading about it, then the fiction didn't create that desire out of nothing, it was just the final push they needed to do something they already wanted to do. And anything could be that final push, they could have seen someone else do it irl. In that case the fiction was a key that unlocked the door to a desire they kept hidden, not a paintbrush that painted an image of that desire on a blank canvas. Anything could be a key. Don't place more blame on fiction than on the criminal. That allows them to not have to take personal responsibility and you're ignoring the root of the problem, making it harder to protect people. Don't waste time and energy going after depictions of abuse instead of actual real life abusers.

Posting as a response to a previous ask.

[iwasforcedtomakethisbytum]

Help me ahhh i can't stop thinking about what I'd do if i were in charge of a reboot of 6teen

For starters it would be more serialized, the original already had some of that and i don't wanna it to be so serialized you can't watch episodes out of order but we have streaming now so why not just have more mentions of previous episodes or foreshadowing future episodes

I'm mainly just thinking about Jonesy and how i could to not be the most hateable character, but i still want him to be a bit of a jerk to be honest but dear Lord I'm gonna give him a little chill pill like maybe he shouldn't be a literal criminal in multiple episodes, i wanna keep him being a selfish dick but maybe instead of flirting with literally all the women it's mostly just with his friends i kinda like the idea of him being demisexual idk i just like it, i also gave him more necklaces, mostly they mean nothing and he'd be happy letting another wear them, but one of his necklaces is his cremation necklace and is just really uncomfortable with the idea of others wearing it

i made jude trans, again i don't remember why i hc it but it's fun, so my design for him shows his binder under his tank top, i feel it would be mentioned but not a lot outside of a joke or two, i give him the more girly hands the women are given as a way to hint it and maybe older photos could show him with long hair or a dress. I also gave him a scarf which one thing i did add was maybe he'd like crochet/knitting and made the scarf himself (i also like to think nikki carries an opossum around that Jude made) he rollerstates everywhere even when he bumps into everything! I don't know what to headcanon his family like, they almost seem neglectful in the series as they're usually mentioned leaving jude alone at the house i feel but does that mean they're bad

Jen i feel she'd roughly stay the same, but maybe she'd be complaining a bit more about shit, i imagine she puts up with her job and school and stuff she hates because she knows it'll help her get what she wants but she doesn't care for it in private. Her parents are divorced like the original but i feel her dad isn't really explained in the original because jen remembers him as a good dad and some lines may reference him having died (omg what if he died by suicide, no I'm sorry not today) but it's never said that he's dead explicitly so it would make me wonder why in the original jen only lives with her mom, did he flee the area, was jen an unreliable narrator and he truly did something awful that warranted him not having custody, did her parents both choose to let Jen's mom have full custody for some reason? I don't know but in my version i like the idea of it being mention that she has to move between the houses (wait would she even have too, i know 16 is a bigger deal in Canada so would that give her the right to decide to not live with one of them?) but in my version of the show jens parents would have split costody of her and that would be mentioned

Nikki is a bit more nerdy i feel i made her, i like the idea of Chinese being her home language, and maybe she can also speak other languages outside of English and Chinese, i feel she'd speak Quebec French, Spanish and ASL to varying degrees of proficiency i could see her maybe considering being an interpreter as a career, she'd still be into protesting the same stuff she has before, she now has a half shaven head, one thing i don't necessarily care for with redesigns is just making her really emo but she's not really that in the original i mean sure it's alt but i don't see it as really emo. I feel like her and Wyatt talk about anime a lot. I feel she'd be fairly distant from her friends at the beginning of the series, like she's there with them they've known her most of their lives but it's not like she opens up to them about things and might seem unemphatic to them but overtime she tries to care about them and open up more maybe starting with them saying they're bi, which one is just like "wait you hadn't told us this before?"

Wyatt is also just nerdier, he draws, he sucks at it but he does draw, he obviously in a band, and so is jude, he just gets to do everything wyatt gets really obsessed with things he likes and will be upset if you don't like them, he also wears his headphones almost all the time, usually they're no music on though, i feel the music his band makes is just stuff that stimulates the ears it's just "hehe brain go brrrr" he's really into written art as well like fanfiction and poetry, i feel it would also be mentioned he takes care of younger siblings a lot as it's mentioned he's part of a big family in the series, i see him on the younger end of the family but still, idk maybe he could also have nieces and nephews

Caitlin also is into art, i feel she'd really be into the idea of fashion design but doesn't know how to make/modify clothing, she is the best drawer of the group, you can still very easily tell she's an only child, i liked the headcanon of her being homeschooled before joining the same school as the rest of the group, you could make an argument the first episode could imply it by saying "she didn't start until grade 10" but that also could mean she just went somewhere else, but i do think it would be fun if she didn't stop being friends with trisha despit being a bitch and the others keep trying to tell her to not hang with her but she "sees the good in her" i think it would be interesting to see it play out

I feel their parents would be mentioned more in the series, they might not show up but they are teenagers/young adults living under their parents roof so i feel it would make sense for it to be brought up more, like maybe the mention of a curfew or them complaining about something they're parents are doing or complain about rules they don't understand

It would be kinda cool to have a moment where both jen and jonesy bitch about their home lives and maybe complain that the marriage shouldn't even happen

Well that's it, i could probably say more but my brain has been satisfied

[helpfandom]

Sneak peek at something probably posted in like 4 months.

@yanderefangirl

Yandere! Batman Rouges Gallery x Platonic OCD! Reader.

I have OCD and this is off of MY version and experiences with OCD. I would be most grateful if anyone had other ideas or plots (like the episode Lock-Up but with the reader.)Reader's kind of... angry? I don't know how else to explain it.

TW//CW: Suicide (Mentions of, not anyone doing) Canon-typical violence, cursing,

God, you couldn't believe it came to this. Honestly, why were you here anyway, it's not like you belong with the criminals. This was just so that they could try and teach the insane to be nicer, to not be criminals.

Honestly, they shouldn't have chosen you, you kind of belonged in here. The way that people would look at you when you twitched, a singular mis-fire in your brain made people think there was something wrong with you. Like you belonged with the freaks of Arkham. Well, one too many jokes about suicide and jokes of your trauma and BOOM! You've been chosen for our unpaid internship at Arkham, too bad you have to stay here you freak! God. It pisses you off to feel their stares of judgement on the streets.

To feel their pity. Batman saves you from a bridge too many times and you're involuntarily put in here.

You walked, two guards right beside you. Their shoes clacking against the tile. One of them was touching you and it made your body feel off. A misfire, and your head jerks to the right. "Please stop touching me." They give you a stern look. Panic filters your brain. "I can walk myself. I'm a big kid." You crack a smile at the last part, makes it easier to tell when it's a joke. They keep staring at you, you misfire, and then the second guard takes their hand off of your shoulder. Great. Now more people think you belong in here. Misfire. Misfire, this time nodding your head. Misfire. Jeezy creezy. "Sorry." You continue walking with them, but you can tell that they're staring at you.

Or is the phenomena of Spotlight, where you delude yourself into thinking that everyone is staring at you. Nevertheless, you can feel them looking at you.

Not just the guards, but the inmates too, the other ones. The ones you belong with. Not the fucking insane criminals.They watch you, a teen, get walked- misfire -to the criminal side of the asylum. It's quiet, but there are whispers. Of course, part of you says that they're talking about you, but is it just because you're being moved to the criminals, or is it because you -misfire- look like you belong here? The other part says it's narcissistic to think they're talking about you.

You reach the doors, steel, heavy steel to make sure that they don't cross over to the section you belong in, misfire, to the people that can be helped.