#crying screaming and other things that girls do

[higuchisora]

Honestly, I was always under the impression that Vander parented them "indirectly", if that makes sense. Like, Vander parented Vi, and Vi took those lessons and parented the others with them, because Vander simply didn't have the time to do so himself, and Vi was basically his mini-me.

Even prior to season 2, when I saw how the previous League bio for Warwick, implied his only memory of his past life was Powder (it says all he remembers is a little girl screaming a name- aka Powder screaming for Vi), that kind of confused me. Because on one hand, yes they're both his daughters and it's his final on-screen moment in season 1, but on the other, it felt thematically odd.

Like, he's supposed to be "dead"/unconscious by then. So wouldn't it make more sense if his final memory is of Vi screaming and crying over him? Also, considering Powder wasn't even crying over Vander- it's weird to me that his final memory is about an experience he isn't really a part of. It's Vi and Powder's scene, not Vander's and Powder's or Vander's and Vi's, so why would we want that to be his only memory?

Safe to say, as much as I thought it was sweet that they had a moment of recognition in season 2 (though I do have to wonder why seeing him like that didn't trigger Jinx at all), it definitely felt off to me. Especially since we never got to see Powder/Jinx have any real positive relationships with anyone other than Vi (before Silco), seeing her and Vander being so connected after his transformation didn't feel earned. Any affection she might've had for her previous family (and them for her) prior to Warwick nearly killing her is left entirely up to the audience to infer, which isn't really a good choice for a scene that you want to be emotional for EVERYONE. If his return is supposed to be inarguably a good thing, why leave the context behind it entirely ambiguous?

Especially when they already have a character set up for this exact kind of bittersweet moment: Vi. The focus on Jinx in the Dad Rescue Arc would make way more sense to me if Silco was the one being brought back. It really should've been Vi taking the lead on this one, which would've perfectly handled the "we don't know what to do with her anymore LMAO" thing Linke was talking about. (Honestly, I'm personally of the opinion that we shouldn't have had a Vander-Returns-Arc at all, considering the lack of time and simultaneous lack of substance both this arc and this entire season had, but I'd do anything to give Vi something to fucking do). OP is 100% correct, Vi should've been the one to grab Jinx and hit her with the "he was your dad too" line. Could've especially been potent if Jinx was all, "why couldn't it have been Silco?" about the whole thing, maybe even making digs at Vi at first when she tells her Vander's back (doing a "looks like crazy runs in the family" line or something), leading to some conflict between them at first, before Vi dishes out that line and perhaps a heartfelt "trust me just this once, just one last time" (or something to that affect). Which would work on Jinx IMO, because as we've established, as angry as she is with Vi, her willpower might as well be wet paper when it comes to trying to "hate" her sister.

If anything, this arc probably should've centered more around how the sisters still love each other, rather than their dads tbh. Vi obviously loves Vander, just as Jinx loves Silco, but I feel it's pretty clear they BOTH prioritize each other over everyone else, even still. Yeah yeah, Vi hit Powder, Yada yada- but think about it for a second. If all of this still happened, but this time it was, say, Mylo that did all this, blowing up their family etc. Etc.- do you seriously think Vi would have forgiven him for it? Do you think she'd desperately chase after him the way she chases Jinx, if Mylo ignored her orders and gotten Powder killed? This would be entirely different story, because Vi would've probably beaten Mylo to death, actually. She wouldn't have held back and walked away the way she did for Jinx in act 1 of season 2. She wouldn't be crying and bargaining with Mylo at that dinner party- she'd be straining against the ropes so she could strangle him with them. I'd say the same goes for anyone that isn't Jinx. Even Vander- even if she couldn't kill him, she'd never forgive him. He'd be dead to her in all the ways that matter.

Hence, this arc (imo) should've looked more like the sisters lowkey using Vander as a vehicle/excuse for their reunion. Like, Vi being so eager and happy to have Vander back because yes, she loves him and missed him, but also, it's one less reason for her to be mad at Jinx. One less reason her sense of duty would have to pit them against each other. If Vi could wave her hand and bring them all back, I'm convinced her first thought would be, "now we can move on, now I'm not obligated to oppose her." Because I genuinely believe the only thing really holding her back at this point is this idea of "I have to do what's 'right'." She was ready to move past this even before Vander came back as a furry, now she just has an excuse to show up unannounced at Jinx's door. And Jinx, too, being as obsessed with Vi's affection as she still is, would probably make some jabs and generally be distrustful, but the entire time she's still going along. The opportunity is too good to pass up. The chance to have Vi back is too tantalizing, is quite literally exactly what she's always wanted, even now, even after all this time. She'd take it, and as soon as she got a taste of that affection again, the soft smiles and the fond gazes, maybe even an instinctual pat on the shoulder, done before Vi even has time to consider if she should do that or not- it's a done deal. She'll still be insecure, in need of constant reassurance- but she'd be too eager to really be cautious, desperately seeking more and more of it.

As would Vi, who'd be over the moon to be able to hold a conversation with her sister again that wasn't laced with constant insults and hostility. It'd be almost like they're kids again, before everything went to hell in a handbasket, just them (and their dad) in a dingy old bar. As long as they ignored all the fur, of course.

TLDR basically I hijacked this to say I agree 100% with OP and think this arc was emotionally/thematically dodgy in several ways, which I explore a little in this reblog.

Jinx just never really liked Vander that much.

One of the things that, to me, seemed like a main theme in Jinx's arc in season 1 was the contrast between her two families, and how her switch from Vander's daughter to Silco's drastically changes the way her personality takes shape.

And I hate that the fandom, and now the show, too, has reduced Silco to an unhealthy influence in Jinx's life, pushing her towards her "bad" side (being Jinx) when, for all his flaws... he gives her a better childhood than she ever had with Vander. The first three episodes of the first season, to me, when I watched them, illustrate quite clearly that Powder feels unhappy in her family life. She is the most mal-adjusted of Vander's kids. Her older brother constantly berates her, and it's quite clearly having a big effect on her self-image. She later takes up the Jinx name and persona once she feels like she has become irredeemable as a person. Her other brother never defends her. Vi is the only one who is there for her, and they care for each other, but at the same time you can see there's still a little insecurity in their relationship. Vi is worried that maybe Powder is indeed too weak, and Powder worries that maybe Vi does indeed see her as a Jinx like her brother does.

And when it comes to Vander... he's just not really all that present in her life. And I don't blame him, the man has four kids to take care of, on top of keeping things running in the Undercity. It's clearly not his intention. But it doesn't change the fact that he's not there for Powder, not as much as she needs. To me, when I watched the first season, it seemed like Vander was a figure that felt far away to Powder, someone that she admired but also feared being completely herself around, and someone that she ultimately wished to be closer to than she actually was. It's worth mentioning that Jinx never says his name post time skip, and he is not a hallucination for her, not until Vi brings him up in the finale. Hell, Claggor is somehow a hallucination for her and he never even speaks. Vander was just not an influential figure in Jinx's life.

I always found the scene at the end of ep3 of s1 fascinating, because Powder never once mourns Vander. She never once cries for him and never once says his name. When she sees his dead body, she becomes shocked and starts crying, but it's not actually what breaks her. What breaks her is Vi's rejection. Had it just been that she accidentally caused the deaths of her brothers and adoptive father, she would not have crumbled mentally. It's Vi's rejection that destroys her. Now, of course, a little girl that cares more about her sister's affection towards her than the lives of her family members is kinda messed up, but that's what makes her character interesting. And we can see that that little girl doesn't go anywhere, as Jinx displays the exact same one-mindness about her sister. Because Jinx and Powder were never really that different, after all.

She is quite clearly placed with her back to Vander's body, that she never turns to, barely looks at, only enough to recognize him and see he's dead, and never says the name of. She's turned towards Vi, calling for Vi, crying because of Vi, and no one else. Heck, Vi had just been crying over his body a few moment ago. Vi is clearly distraught over his death. Vi is devastated, she literally punches her sister and curses her in the exact worst possible way she can, in the way she know it will hurt her sister the most. But Powder... she just honestly dgaf.

So to then hear Jinx say this line in season 2...

...is just straight up jarring. I was pulled out of the story when I heard this. This is Jinx saying this to Vi. This kinda makes it seem like it was Jinx who was most attached to Vander, or at least that she was just as attached to him as Vi was. Which is just not how things seemed in the story at literally any point until this one. And then season 2 continues this way, and somehow makes Jinx seem like the closest daughter to Vander. Flipping Warwick literally acts more attached to Jinx than Vander ever did to Powder. Like literally. Season 1 clearly sets up that Vi is the favorite daughter, and then they just... flip it?? Warwick cares more for Jinx and responds better to her than to Vi. It's actually insane. It's true they sanitized Jinx's character to hell and back this season, but this is a straight-up rewrite. I can't wrap my mind around why they did this. Plus, the entirety of act 2 they set up this weird and pointless arc of Jinx rekindling her relationship with Vander or something... and like literally her story was genuinely never about that.

(This COULD have been Vi's story. And that might have actually been cool, and made sense. Maybe Vi is the one who finds him, and she is the one who helps him calm down. And then she brings Jinx, and maybe Jinx is terrified because she was never that close to Vander, and then she literally killed him, so seeing him again is the last thing she wants. Maybe VI is the one who tells Jinx that "he was your dad, too", which would make A LOT more sense, and maybe that's the first time that Jinx thinks that oh, yeah, he was... And then maybe they have a cute moment where Vander forgives her. Or maybe she sees the state he's in right now and loses it completely. Or maybe they look at each other and they both see the monster each of them has become. And then maybe Vi looks down at the enforcer uniform she's wearing, and, privately, sees it too. Idk. The things we could have had.)

Silco was actually a good dad to Jinx, in all the ways that Vander wasn't. He gives her all the attention that she never had before. He not only listens to her, but actively asks for her side of the story. He never insults her, and he defends her against Sevika. He trusts her and gives her opportunities to prove she's capable. She goes from being one of four siblings, and getting lost in the shuffle and often ending up feeling forgotten and alone, to being the most important child, always taken into consideration and almost put on a pedestal by her dad (this, like, has to have cured some inner wounds, i think).

Silco understands Jinx better than any other character in the show, and I'm genuinely sad that we didn't get to see any flashback of Jinx growing up with him. Because their relationship was so unique, and so integral to Jinx's character and to the rest of the story, that the fact that we never get to see any other glimpse into their bond is just...

As a final note, I'd also like to add that I dislike when people say that Silco "groomed" Jinx. I think a much more realistic analysis is that he enabled her. And as for all the times he tells Jinx that Vi "betrayed her", that's just a reflection of his own trauma, and also because he fears that if Jinx knew Vi was alive, she would go back to her and leave him (which, considering what goes down in the s1 finale, not an unfounded fear). It's wrong that he does that, but it's not out of malicious intent (also tbh Jinx never really seems to believe him anyway).

And for all the people who say that Silco "turned Jinx into a terrorist" (dumbest people in this fandom fr, im sorry), that's just straight up not true. Powder was already like that. That is quite literally why Silco adopts her. Because he sees that she's like him. Silco would not have taken Powder in if he thought she was just a cute, innocent kid who was orphaned (to, what, raise her for years so that, MAYBE when she's older, she MIGHT be useful to him? when they meet he doesn't know she's the one that caused the explosion, he just knows that she's been abandoned by Vi). This is the kid who thought playing around with explosives was a fun hobby. This is the kid who giggled at the thought of hurting others. This is the kid who already suffered from explosive emotions. This is the kid who saw her father and her brothers dead, because of her, and all she cared about was whether her sister was mad at her because of it. This is the kid who throws herself at the first person she sees, someone who her sister hates, who is the cause of all this destruction, and with an anger that shocks most viewers, declares that Vi is not her sister anymore. She is livid in that one moment.

Powder already had it in her from the beginning. And it's also ok to like a character (and to write one) even if they are not 100% morally pure in every single way under the sun, cause that is quite literally what stories are for.

[croworro]

Can you write a short schlatt fic in which the fem!reader confesses her feelings to him on stream or on the SDP -- but totally on accident? And of course he returns her feelings (either on off camera. You choose) Thanks boo!

Accidental Confessions

Pairing: Jschlatt x fem!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none really

Summary: During a chaotic Phasmophobia stream, Schlatt’s relentless flirting leaves you flustered and questioning what’s real.

A/N: hope this is everything you were hoping for!! I’m actually so happy with how this turned out hehe

Your streaming sessions with Jschlatt had become a highlight of your week, and apparently, a highlight for thousands of viewers. What started as a one-off collaboration turned into a weekly tradition that fans clamored for. Schlatt’s relentless teasing, sharp wit, and surprisingly endearing moments always made for entertaining streams.

Tonight’s game was Phasmophobia, you reluctantly agreed to play after weeks of Schlatt goading you on Twitter.

“You ready to cry on stream?” Schlatt’s voice came through your headset as you joined the Discord call.

“More like ready to carry you,” you shot back, smirking as you adjusted your mic.

“Carry me?” Schlatt barked out a laugh. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t carry a flashlight without tripping over yourself.”

“Bold words from someone who hides in the van at the first sign of danger,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see that chat was already in chaos:

[Chat]:

• “Here we go again with the bickering couple.”

• “Schlatt’s flirting is so painfully obvious, omg.”

• “They’re gonna kill each other before the ghost does.”

The game loaded, and Schlatt’s teasing began almost immediately.

“Alright, chat,” he said, his tone smug. “Place your bets: How long before Y/N panics and accidentally gets me killed?”

“First of all, I don’t panic,” you said, grabbing the ghost detector. “Second, if you die, it’s probably because you’re too busy flirting with the chat to pay attention.”

“Oh, sweetheart, if I was flirting, you’d know it,” Schlatt said, his voice dropping into a playful drawl that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

Your face heated, but you forced a laugh. “Good thing I don’t have to worry about that, then.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he replied, his smirk practically audible.

You busied yourself with the game, trying to ignore the way his voice lingered in your mind. The two of you explored the haunted house, with Schlatt cracking jokes and occasionally pretending to be scared just to make you jump.

“Y/N, the ghost’s name is Lisa. Think you can charm her into leaving us alone?” Schlatt asked as you stepped into the darkened kitchen.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who keeps telling me I’m bad with women,” he said, grinning. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Fine,” you said, playing along. “Lisa, you’re a beautiful, independent ghost who doesn’t need to haunt this house anymore. Go find some peace, girl.”

Schlatt laughed so hard he almost dropped his flashlight. “Unbelievable. Chat, clip that. I need to save it for when Y/N tries to say she’s the serious one here.”

[Chat]:

• “I CAN’T WITH THESE TWO.”

• “Lisa’s shaking right now.”

• “Schlatt’s laugh gives me life.”

The game progressed, with Schlatt alternating between teasing you and pretending to be scared. When the ghost appeared out of nowhere, he let out a yell and ran, leaving you alone in the dark.

“Schlatt, you coward!” you screamed, clicking you keyboard keys frantically and fumbling for a hiding spot.

“Every man for himself!” he shouted from the safety of the van.

When the ghost finally disappeared, you stormed out of the house and into the van, glaring at Schlatt’s character.

“You are the worst teammate,” you said.

“And yet, you keep coming back,” he replied, his grin evident in his tone.

You groaned, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, sweetheart,” he added, his voice softer now.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you ignored it, focusing back on the game.

By the time the ghost finally killed Schlatt, you were too frustrated to even pretend to feel bad.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend half the game messing around, you wouldn’t keep dying,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you care about me?” Schlatt asked, his tone teasing but his words making your stomach flip.

“Of course I care about you, but I care more about winning,” you said quickly, not even thinking about what you had said.

“What was that?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly. Your eyes widened quickly when you realized what you had said.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, feeling heat creep up your neck.

“Nah, nah, you said something,” he pressed. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.”

The chat went wild:

[Chat]:

• “WAIT WHAT DID SHE SAY???”

• “CONFESS CONFESS CONFESS.”

• “Schlatt, stop bullying her, omg.”

You groaned, ending the game and pulling up your stream controls. “Alright, chat, that’s it for tonight. Goodnight, everyone.”

The protests from viewers were immediate, but you ignored them, ending the stream and ripping off your headset. Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Schlatt: Call me.

You stared at the message, debating whether to respond. Finally, you sighed and hit the call button.

“Bit of an abrupt ending, don’t you think?” Schlatt said as soon as he picked up, his tone light but probing.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Alright, fair,” he admitted. “But seriously, what’s was that about?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. Schlatt’s teasing was usually easy to brush off, but tonight felt different—more personal.

“It’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you’re not joking, and I don’t know how to handle that.”

“What if I’m not joking?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Your breath caught, your pulse racing. “Don’t mess with me, Schlatt.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Y/N, I’m not joking. I flirt with you because I like you. Hell, everyone in chat sees it. I thought you did too.”

You swallowed hard, trying to process his words. “I didn’t want to assume,” you admitted.

“Well, you don’t have to,” he said, his tone softening. “I like you, sweetheart. I have for a while.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “You sure know how to make a confession dramatic.”

“It’s what I do,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “So… what do you say?”

“I think we should play another game,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Another game?” he repeated, sounding surprised.

“Yeah,” you said. “But this time, you’re not leaving me to die.”

Schlatt laughed, his usual confidence returning. “Deal. But if you keep calling me a coward, I might have to change my mind about liking you.”

“Too late,” you teased. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” he said, his voice warm. “That’s exactly where I want to be.”

[shigarosie]

Butterfly, Fly Away (part one)

Aizawa feels out of breath. Despite the fact that he drove to the daycare center, it feels like he ran the whole way. He doesn’t run inside, but he does do an awkward half jog to get in there quickly without looking like some sort of lunatic. 

The room, as expected, is a disaster. Kids are crying. Drawings have been torn up and thrown around, chairs have been overturned. Eri is at the center of it all, with an uninterrupted scream at the top of her lungs that he’s sure has lasted at least a full minute by the way her red face is slowly starting to show hints of purple. 

Eri has been kicked out of another daycare. 

She skips alongside him merrily as he walks back to the car with him, her little purple bag in one hand while the other holds her own pudgy little palm. You would think that she was a perfectly well behaved little angel if you saw her now, no traces left of her hurricane of an outburst mere minutes ago. 

There was a familiar throbbing pain forming like a tight band around his skull. 

Once they were in the car, Eri kicking her feet in her carseat and playing with the straps of her bag, Aizawa couldn’t help but spare glances at her in the rearview mirror when he stopped at all the stop signs on the way back to the high school. His daughter was the best, most important thing in his life. He loved her more than anything, no matter what. He just didn’t know what to do with her anymore. 

As he parked in his designated spot, five minutes left of his lunch break, Eri hurriedly tried to unbuckled her carseat before Aizawa could get to her. It was a game she liked to play, despite the fact that her clumsy fingers hadn’t yet grown strong enough to fully press the big red button that released the clips. But Aizawa didn’t get out of the car to come around and unbuckle her yet. 

“Hurry daddy!” she taunts, grunting as her fingers slip as they always do. “I’m gonna beat you this time!” 

“What happened, Eri?”

She paused, looking up at him with those eyes that look almost too big for her head in the sweetest way. She looked unphased. Unashamed, unapologetic. 

“I didn’t like it there,” was the simple answer she gave. “Daycare is stupid.” 

“But honey,” he sighed, “you know that you have to go. And don’t use the word stupid, please.” 

The little girl starts to shift uncomfortably in her seat, no longer trying to unbuckle her restrictive straps, but attempting to pull them down her shoulders instead. 

“Why?” she asks, an edge beginning to form where a smooth curve used to exist in her voice. “Why can’t I just come with you to big kid school?” 

“Because next year you’ll have to start going to kindergarten, so you can learn new things and make friends. I won’t be able to just drop everything and come get you. Instead you’ll be forced to either sit in your classroom or sit in the principal’s office for hours until big kid school is done.”

Eri slumps in her seat. The tears are welling in her eyes and Aizawa has to look above her head in order to keep talking with her. 

“This is the fourth daycare you’ve been kicked out of, honey. That’s not good.”

Eri turns her face away. “Guess you’ll have to maybe take me to a new one then,” she says. 

“I can’t.” At this she perks up, catching the feeling of excitement in those little hands of hers before it slips from her grasp and runs off when she sees her dad do that thing where he drags his hand down the entirety of his face and then rubs at his scruffy jaw. “This was the last daycare in our area that I can afford. No more daycares.”

“So I’ll have to come to school with you now, right?” she asks, hopeful eyes shining with a few embarrassed tears that hadn’t yet gone away. 

Aizawa doesn’t say anything. He gets out of the car, opens her door, and helps her out of her seatbelt. 

“Come on,” he says, holding her bag in one hand and her palm in the other. “Today you get to watch my students take a pop quiz.” 

Class 1-A loves Eri. They love to dote on her, like she’s their princess and they are nothing but her humble servants. They don’t bat an eye when she shows up during the second half of the day anymore, used to their visibly stressed teacher sitting her down with coloring pages and an old cd player (there’s no way in hell he would ever put an ipad in her hands) in a poor attempt at a fort under his desk. They felt bad for him, really, knowing how hard he’s had it since… 

They also like to sneak little snacks and fidget toys to her when he’s not looking. They get passed down the rows of desks like contraband, making a wide loop around the goody-goodies that rat them out. They think they’re helping, really they do. And it’s endearing. But it makes it more difficult for him, in all actuality, when he’s trying to convince Eri that his classroom is not the place for her to be and they’re doing everything to make it friendly for her. They even stopped swearing when Eri made her little visits. (At least, they tried their best.) 

“They’re like her gang of babysitters,” Aizawa explains to Mic as he pulls out a bottle of scotch from the baby proofed cupboard above the fridge and two glasses. Eri had been put to bed an hour prior, after having her bath and getting her hair braided and insisting on TWO stories tonight; one from her dad and one from her godfather. “It just makes her want to be there even more.”

“Maybe that’s what you two need,” Mic says from the sofa, helping himself to some chips and dip. 

“What?”

“You know, a babysitter,” the blond elaborates. “Or a nanny, in this case.��

Aizawa’s brow furrows. His lips turn down. Mic can already tell this is going to take a lot of selling. “What’s the difference?”

“Nannies do more,” Mic says, his mouth partially full. He gave up on manners around Aizawa sometime around… well, they met in middle school, so he probably never had them in the first place. “Babysitters are for, like, date nights and stuff.” 

“I definitely don’t need one of those,” Aizawa grumbles, handing Mic his glass before settling onto the couch himself. 

“Nannies are more long term,” Mic continues, not addressing the comment, “they would stay with her at home the whole day while you work, maybe do some tidying or run some errands for you. It’s like daycare, but more personal and actually not at all like daycare. You just have someone watching your kid all day.” 

Aizawa groans, gulping down most of his drink in one go. “I don’t want some stranger in my house alone with my kid. That sounds terrible.” 

“Man, they call them nanny cams for a reason. And when you use the websites they do background checks.” 

“How do you know so much about nannies?” Aizawa asks suspiciously. Mic had no kids. He had no nieces or nephews. All he had were a bunch of elementary school students singing the same ten annoying songs off key. 

“Remember the lady with the two kids I was hooking up with while they were with their dad? She had a nanny.” 

“And how long after you stopped seeing the mom did you start sleeping with the nanny?” Aizawa asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Hey, it’s completely a coincidence that I met her nanny out at a bar one night, okay? Swear on my life. Not like I ever met her before then, I never met the kids!” 

“Whatever,” Aizawa says, downing the last of his drink before pouring another. “I’m not getting a nanny.” 

“You at least gotta think about it,” Mic says, “you don’t have many other choices here. Unless you want to call your mom and have her-” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Then I recommend you take the weekend to research nanny websites,” Mic says. “You can’t bring your kid to work with you every day. It’s not good for her. It’s not good for you.” Mic leaves his unfinished drink on the coffee table, knowing Aizawa will just drink the rest himself after he leaves. “I should tuck in for the night. Think about it, alright? And I’m right down the street if you ever need anything. And-” 

“Good night, Mic.” 

“Later.” 

Aizawa stays on the couch, sitting in the same spot, staring at the wall in front of him for an hour before he finally sighs to himself. 

“Don’t have many other choices,” he grumbles as he pulls his laptop out of his work bag and starts his google search, Mic’s unfinished glass of scotch in hand. 

‘best nanny websites’

[tac-the-unseen]

Stalker König

CW: talks of mental health, concerns not taken seriously, stalking, talks of Guns, Reader is doing their best, you better be ready to Google the meaning of flowers 💕

Your eyes shift to the oven's clock.

1:23 am

You huddle in the corner of your kitchen, silently crying, and shaking with every bone of your body. You desperately clutch a kitchen knife while praying that….that thing goes away.

For the past three months the shadows have been terrorizing you. You Know that when you look into the dark, something is looking back at you. Everybody you've talked to has told you, you were crazy. You've been called paranoid, and a few days ago someone called APS on you. They'd decided that you weren't in any immediate danger, but said they'd come back to check on you.

Tonight you couldn't sleep. Your body shuddered with terror with just the thought of closing your eyes. It's been a combination of little things that has built to this.

At first it was just small things going missing. Pens you left out, the sticky notes you doodled on, jewelry you didn't wear often. In fact the only reason you noticed things of yours was going missing, was because you wanted to wear a particular pair of fancy earrings to a company event. You looked for 30 minutes before just wearing another pair.

Then your favorite book disappeared. After a long day you were really looking forward to reading that book in bed before you passed out. But when you entered your room, the book wasn't on the shelf. You looked up and down, but you couldn't find it anywhere. You throw one of your other books across the wall out of frustration and left it there for the night. When you woke up that book was gone too.

Then things you've never owned started to show up in places you frequent. A red beaded bracelet you've never seen before showed up next to your kitchen sink. That new lipstick shade you've been wanting to try, You found it in your medicine cabinet when you went to brush your teeth. All that is spooky at best, but what really frightened you was a single bullet left on your office desk.

You told your boss you were sick and went home for the day…or at least that's where you told him you were going. You went straight into a public area like the women of your past have told you too, if you think you're in danger.

Kidnappers never take their victim in a crowded area.

Safer in numbers.

Cry, scream, kick, but never stop fighting.

You walked into a casual sit down restaurant and spent all night looking up what kind of bullet you were clutching in your palm.

A 9mm, just a small hunk of metal.

But you've never even held a gun, let alone own one.

You want to believe that a coworker accidentally dropped it on your desk, but it was perfectly placed. It was set up underneath your computer monitor, just out of sight for those passing, but when you sat down at your desk only you could see it.

This was deliberate.

This was not a coincidence.

But why? Why would you leave a bullet on someone's work desk? Is this a death threat? Is someone threatening your life? That thought alone made you crumble faster than you expected. You fought back tears while trying to think of who you might have pissed off.

The Receptionist you at your office? All you said was that you wouldn't be attending her baby shower. And anyway she got her revenge by ‘accidently’ eating your lunch.

The Uber driver you gave two stars too after he made a creepy comment about your chest? He just gave you a one star review a few minutes after.

That one girl in highschool that didn't like you? She peaked in highschool, you doubt she'd have the guts to pull off this stunt.

By the time you're ready to leave, it was night. You felt the fear fraying at your edges, the shadow’s non-existent eyes watching you, so you called one of your friends to pick you up.

You faked being drunk on the ride home. When she asked you about work, you said that they cut your shift without telling you and that you didn't mean to get wasted.

You're not sure she bought it, but she never brought it up.

When she pulls up to the house, you thank her, and pretend to stumble out of her car. She made sure you got inside before leaving and you haven't spoken since. But you couldn't worry about that now.

Your paranoia creeped in and made you check every corner of your house. Afterwards you crashed onto the couch and watched Judge Judy until you fell asleep.

When you woke up one of the blankets from your bed was wrapped around you.

You don't remember doing that.

You've never done that before. That panic in your stomach quaked and you got up to do another search around your home.

You found nothing, but called in sick anyway.

Two days later, and back at the office, you were clacking away at your keyboard when one of the mail distributors knocked on your door. The carrier was 17 if you remembered right, he was one of their nicer carriers. He was always kind to everyone in the office and was always telling jokes.

This time instead of carrying a letter or a stack of files, he was holding a large bouquet of Coral Roses, Anemones, red carnations, and Heliotropes. It was a gorgeous assortment of warm tones with just a little cool tones to balance everything.

“Caught someone’s eye?” The boy asked playful. You stand up to accept the gift. “Does it say from who?” You ask curiously. “Nope, just that it's for you.” You pick up the flowers and set them onto your already crowded desktop. “Someone has a secret admirer!” The boy teases and chuckles at his joke. “At least they're not cheap. I've delivered flowers to people before, but nothing this big before. Who ever it is, they really like you, or really need something from you…” he pause for a second “Well, it's a nice jester non the less.”

“I suppose it is…Tell you what, if you snag me an extra muffin from the community breakfast tomorrow morning, I'll make sure to update you if anything else comes up.” you hold out your hand to him. He thinks about it for a second before shaking your hand. “Deal!”

By the end of your day, you gently placed the flowers into the passenger seat. You've spent all day thinking about the flowers and who sent them. Just like the bullet, you didn't have a clue, But it was still nice to be appreciated like this.

No one's gotten you flowers before.

Because this was your first ever bouquet you dislodged some flowers and tied them upside down into your closet. You also persevered some in salt. You put the rest of the flowers into two glass bottles with some water.

You thought about persevering more, but you felt like that was a bit excessive. Besides you don't know where or who they're from….what if they are from the same person that left the bullet?

Those are two very different messages…

Soon enough You begin to spiral down a rabbit hole of anxiety and theories. deciding to (hopefully) sleep it off, you crawl to bed and bury yourself in your blankets.

Suddenly your body jolts you awake.

Through the sleepy haze you don't know what caused you to wake. You look at your phone, that You apparently forgot to charge, and realize it's 2:56 in the morning.

You try and rack your Brain for an answer to your sudden consciousness.

Then you hear it.

Glass.

Glass sliding across the floor in another room.

You look at your phone again.

3%

You figure it's better than nothing, plug it in, and dial 911.

“911, where is your emergency?” A female voice asks through the phone. Then your breath hitches in your throat.

Yes, you know Where you are. But you don't know Where the danger is. You don't even know if there is danger. And even if you did the house is silent, any noise you make could alert whatever is in your house.

You quietly breathe over the phone and slowly lay back down.

“Hello? Is there anybody there? This is 911, what is your emergency?” The woman asks.

You just breathe over the phone and quietly as possible.

“Is there something there that makes you unable to communicate?” The woman asks, finally understanding.

You hum a quiet yes, As inaudible as you can manage.

“Okay. I'm going to find you using your phone's pinged location. I need you to stay on the line with me so we can find and help you, okay?” she asks in a more hushed tone.

You just hum again and strain your ears trying to hear any sound.

You realize that the glass sound has stopped. And quiet footsteps start shuffling around your home.

You can hear doors opening and closing.

Soft breaths.

It's then you make another realization. It's now right outside your door. You can see two large shadows on the bottom of the doorway.

In a panic you turn your phones volume all the way down and hang up. You slide your phone back onto your night stand and pretend to be asleep.

And just in the nick of time too.

Your door softly creeks on its hinges.

The air is still and heavy, making it almost impossible to breathe.

You know you have to keep an even and low breathing pace. One of the tips you picked up in health that randomly stuck in your brain is that sleeping people use less oxygen.

If you wanted to sell this fake sleep, you'd have to force your body to deprive itself of its most valuable resource. Only for a little bit. Just until whatever, whoever is standing in your doorway leaves.

It moves forward

You only know this when they step on the only creaky floorboard in your room.

Whoever is in your room is dead silent.

You have to remind yourself not to furrow your brow when they continue their movement.

The air is still again

It lingers

You hear the sound of fabric shifting and stretching right next to you.

The terror in your chest scratches at your ribs when you feel the gentle movement of your hair sliding behind your ear.

You have not idea what to do.

What do you do?

You rack your brain for what normal people do when they sleep.

Snore? No, if you start now it would be a dead give away.

Mumble? Mumble what? What do people mumble in their sleep? Nothing you can come up with on the spot, that's for sure.

You decide to make a bold move and as lazily as you can shift your body's position.

That's what people do.

You push deeper into your pillow and raise your knee to about stomach level. It's a totally normal sleep position and almost everyone moves in their sleep.

A knot in your stomach churns. You fucking hate yourself. What if they don't buy it? What if you're digging your own grave? For fucks sake you don't even know if the intruder is armed.

The intruder chuckles softly and the shifting of fabric once again is dangerously close.

You think they just stood up?

Whatever, if they're moving, they're likely leaving.

Suddenly you can hear the faint sounds of sirens. They sound only a few streets away.

Your admirer clearly hears the same thing and swiftly makes their move out of the room.

It still terrifies you how quiet they are.

You hear the glass in your hallway slide once more only followed by the sirens getting much closer.

It's only when you hear a pounding at your front door and the announcement of police, do you peel open your eyes and take a deep breath.

When you reach over to retrieve your phone do you feel something else touch your hand.

You readjust your vision and your eyes widen.

A flower

Or flowers

Bright, vivid red flowers.

One stalk, several flowers.

They take hours looking through your home, questioning you.

They tell you to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

Like you'll ever sleep again.

You put on shoes and walk to a late night convenience store and wait out the stars there. You explain yourself to the cashier and they let you loiter in the store.

But you can't keep the flowers out of your head.

Your phone is only at 28% so you don't have much time to mess around on there.

It takes about 8 minutes but you finally find the flowers that were ‘given’ to you…

Red Salvia…

You really weren't crazy…

Thanks for reading <3

Totally forgot I wrote this.... My bad gang...

Also don't worry about the inconsistencies, I wrote this like 6 months ago and only updated a little bit.

[dadsbongos]

851 words. jimmy wants to kill your mom for you ~~~

Have you ever wanted someone dead?

Jimmy has -does- and it burns him up from the inside. This time hotter than the rest because last time he said it out loud he had a beer bottle thrown at the back of his head. 

Even now something in the back of his throat won’t let him get it out, despite the closest object to you being a tinky black remote. So he watches, silently, as you fold one arm over the over across your chest and bare down the woman that bore you. 

Beneath scratchy teal sheets pulled up to her chin, she sweats simply sleeping. Over those sheets run thin clear tubes, looping around the back of her head and pumping up her nostrils with crisp air. A white slat is pulled over her lap, plastic cups painted with brown and yellow mush streaks littered over it. Spoons drying into each bowl. Jimmy would never be able to guess how much each little scrap is running on your wallet, and he doesn’t care to… or at least tries to tell himself he doesn’t.

Unfortunately, it’s all he thinks about. 

Centered in his chest, just a skosh right of his heart and way above his gut, is that burning sensation telling him the same things over and over. With every visit, the whispering gets louder.

Your mother had insurance, but he’s seen you bent over the kitchen table mumbling about hospital bills either way. Not to mention, with the sour way things look, funeral bills eventually.

“She’s sleeping,” he bites, boot clacking impatiently on the linoleum. 

“I know,” tone firm enough to tell him everything you didn’t say. Conversation fizzles out there for now.

Jimmy knows. You know. Nurses know.

Without that tank clicking oxygen into her chest, she’s gone -- maybe a brief sputter, the final kickback of a motor skimming the bottom barrel for oil, but she’ll die. 

If Jimmy meandered over to the other side of the bed where you weren’t able to see, and if he pinched the tube between thumb and forefinger long enough then she probably wouldn’t even rouse to fight. Twitch, maybe.

You’re better for it, if he does.

He asked you once why you’re trying so hard, pushing so fiercely and more stubbornly than he knows you’ve pushed anything (i thought you hated the old bitch). You just told him to mind his business (fuck you, jimmy, that’s my mother).

Suddenly, you take a step back and shudder, wiping both hands down the length of your face and sniffling, “I gotta pee.”

Red eyes peek at him from between stiff fingers, cracked apart over your cheeks. Bent brows and wobbling lips. You’re not gonna piss, you’re gonna scream into your hands and cry. Which he’s sure the hospital bathrooms see more of than any other fluid.

Jimmy blinks up at you. If you’re going to the bathroom you’re not here.

“Don’t fall in,” he mumbles.

Nodding and patting him on the shoulder as you pass, Jimmy can see the tear glittering down your lashes before you make it out. As soon as your body’s faded from view, and your footsteps fall a little quieter than before: he’s up on his feet. Dirt-stained sneakers cake across the waxy floors, squeaking right up beside your mother.

Brown eyes flick up between the steel door frame once before he’s reaching down for the clear tube -- hesitating inches away, just long enough to visualize his mugshot on the news.

Euthanasia is only legal in dogs, he thinks. Technically, even though she’s got all the conversational skills of broccoli and lays here like a metal beam, this is murder. Could probably get him locked away for the rest of his life. Put behind rusty bars with gnarly types: real murderers, the kinds that decapitate and cut their girls open. Jimmy wouldn’t do that to you, he just wants to kill your mom.

Make your life a little easier.

Her still sucking wind through these flimsy pipes is draining your savings. Gray hairs scattered across your pillow, at this rate the stress of her being alive is going to put you into the grave. Every crash like this is always preceded by her spontaneous burst of good health; she’ll run a marathon just to end up in the ER next month. Pushing and pulling, snuffing out hope just as it flourishes. 

The bipolarity isn’t good for your health. Neither would be having your boyfriend arrested for Mom’s murder.

So he steps on the tube with his foot instead. Shirking hard on the toes to make sure all that sweet air pinches right the fuck off.

Just as he thought, she doesn’t pop up. Barely scrunches that wrinkled, angry face before the twitching starts. First at her shoulders concentrating around the chest, then her legs, and then her hands. Cinching around thin teal sheets like they could do anything for her. They don’t even keep out the cold.

Getting the final act of bereavement finished will be better for you, he knows that. In a weird way, he’s just trying to help.

[petitelepus]

Hashiras x Platonic pregnant female reader (possibly single)

Where the reader, being pregnant, continues working, hunting, and doing strength training despite her pregnancy, and seems to have no problems with it, and is often upset when they tell her to rest, she is reckless and careless, she is always in constant movement or training. When she seems to be going into labor, the baby is delivered standing up easily, quickly and without pain.

At the beginning of your pregnancy, you had made your fellow Hashiras promise not to tell anyone about the life growing in your tummy.

They respected your wishes, even if reluctantly, and your continued training and hunting Demons like it was every other day. This often time worried your companions, but you brushed off their worries, claiming that you could still work and train.

That was until your stomach got big enough that you couldn't hide your pregnancy anymore.

Master Ubuyashiki wasn't exactly happy with you hiding your pregnancy for so long, but at least he didn't punish you for hiding the knowledge or your Hashira companions for keeping your secret.

But he did force you to bedrest at Butterly Mansion and it was killing you to just lie in bed all day because of how far along you were. You could barely do anything other than go to the toilet by yourself and even then you needed someone to escort you there.

"Any day now, you little brat..." You grumbled as you looked at your huge stomach, "Come out so I can get this done and over with...!"

"That is certainly one way to talk to your child," Came Shinobu's light giggle and you turned to look just in time to see her enter your room.

"Can't you do anything to start this labor?" You asked but she only shook her head, "As you said yourself, any day now."

"This is torture!" You cried out but the Insect Hashira just smiled, "Do you need to go?"

"Go, like a toilet?" You asked and she nodded, but you frowned as you attempted to get up on your own, "I'm more than capable of going to the toilet by myself...!"

"I don't doubt you, but bending down can't be easy with your stomach-!"

"My stomach is fine- Ah-!" You winched as you felt pain in your lower tummy and your eyes widened in shock as you looked at Shinobu, "D- Did I just wet myself?"

You were so humiliated that you wished a Demon would appear and eat you up, but Shinobu quickly moved closer and touched the wet spot on the bed.

"D- Don't-!"

"Congratulations!" The pretty woman smiled, "Your baby must have heard how annoyed their mother is and decided that they are ready to come out!"

"Now!?" You winched as your stomach ached in pain and Shinobu nodded as she quickly ran to the door and called Aoi and other girls to help her deliver your baby.

After that, things were blurred. You remember the pain, your cries, pushing, and finally, a shrill little scream before you blacked out due to exhaustion.

You weren't sure how long you were sleeping, and then you started to hear voices. At first, they sounded like gibberish, but as you focused and started to slowly come to your senses, you realized that those voices belonged to your fellow Hashiras.

"Aww, they look just like their mommy!" Mitsuji said happily, and Obanai nodded, "It's almost scary."

"Namu... They sound calm..." Gyomei nodded, and Sanemi scoffed, "Yeah, but if they come to their mother then we are going to have to cover our ears real soon."

"Hm!" Came Kyojuro's voice, but before he could say a word, Shinobu quickly shushed him, "Indoor voice, Rengoku."

"They are like two peas in a pod," The Flame Hashira said quietly.

"They are, like, so flashy," Tengen nodded with approval and Muichiro glanced at the Sound Hashira, "You think so...?"

"The baby looks happy..." Giyu nodded and Sanemi laughed, "Just wait until they see their mother. That gives them a reason to cry."

"Fuck you..." You grumbled tiredly as you struggled to open your eyes, but you managed. You looked at all the Hashiras surrounding your bed and frowned, "Why the Hell are you all here anyway...?"

"Hm!" Kyojuro nodded, "We heard from crows that you went to labor and we had to rush in to see the little miracle ourselves."

"The baby...?" You turned to look at the Insect Hashira.

"They are well. The delivery went perfectly," Shinobu smiled, "You must have been exhausted so we decided to let you sleep a moment."

"So... The baby is okay?"

"Would you like to see them?"

You weren't sure what the Hell you were thinking, but you nodded and she smiled as she stepped aside and returned quickly with your newborn in her arms.

"Here they are," She nodded as she gently handed the baby to you and your eyes widened as you took in your child. They were small, had the chubbiest cheeks you had ever seen, and cutest mouth ever.

"Wow..." You blinked as you looked at them and the Hashiras shared smiles, "Master Ubuyashiki said that you aren't allowed to pick up a sword for another 3 or 4 months."

"That's..." You frowned and they all expected you to complain and object...

"That's okay..." You smiled, "I'd like to get to know this little sunshine better..."

"You also have all of our support!" Mitsuri said excitedly and a little too loudly because your baby started to stir awake and whined pitifully.

"Wh- What-?" You turned to look at Shinobu pleadingly, "Wh- What should I do?"

"Just hold them," She nodded, "They are probably hungry also."

"Oh," You blinked before you realized what she meant, "Oh!"

"We will give you some privacy..." Gyomei nodded as he and the rest of the Hashiras stepped outside, but they all congratulated you on their way out.

You sighed as you did what you had to, and in manner of minutes, your little baby was happily eating and you couldn't help but to look at them so lovingly.

You didn't expect to fall in love ever again, but you were wrong.

[urno1luv]

Your gang leader siyeon with an extra feminine girlfriend made me so weak in the knees, can I please request more of this ///~/// literally melting

so sorry to keep you waiting omg... it's been months

pt2 of gang leader siyeon x reader

siyeon, whose aftercare is so good, you never suspected that she would be killing men and torturing others in her free time. sitting in between her legs in her large bath tub, warm water soothing you as her hands ran through your hair, kissing your shoulders gently?? that CAN'T be the same girl whose drug dealing ring is one of the most powerful in the world... right?

siyeon, who did everything in her power to stop you from finding out her real occupation. "siyeon? why do you have this whole collection of gu-" "i'm a collector and those are... uh... antiques...?" luckily siyeon was blessed with a dumb girlfriend who didn't push it ♡

siyeon, who often times just sent you to resorts or shopping adventures with your friends (her bodyguards hiding but watching closely) as she took you to Italy for her "business meetings," her sweet kisses after you come back to her penthouse making you completely ignore the fact that you barely spent the day together... but was she drinking red wine without you?? there seemed to be a large stain on her navy coloured blazer...🤔

siyeon, who once made a mistake by calling her elder sister, to come over... because you saw the news earlier that week that a certain kim bora was wanted for a murder of a corrupt heiress... safe to say siyeon was NOT pleased with the scream you had let out beside her.

siyeon, who never got mad at you, even if you did things that annoyed her to the point of ripping her hair out... how could she? her kind, loving, idiotic girl never means any harm :(( so she takes her frustrations out on you in the bedroom instead🤩

siyeon's previously mentioned pink strap that you loved so much would dig deep into you after a bad work day, you face shoved into the pillow, mascara running down your face. how could you not cry? she was fucking you so deep, her teeth into your shoulder, drawing blood, and the mixture of pain and pleasure made your brain fog completely >_<

🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️please forgive me for taking so long

[nonamerat]

[jrueships]

WHOEVER THE FUCK IS RECOMMENDING MED PPL TO GO INTO RADIOLOGY JUST CUS IF THE MONEY, IM GONNA FUCKING gET YOU

[red-dyed-sarumane]

u know ive always been wondering how tenshi's sacrifice worked but her song is more her personal struggle & doesnt go into how she dies & no other song mentions what happens beyond that she was sacrificed & it occurred to me earlier none of the characters talk like they got their hands dirty. no one we've met so far has had anything in their lyrics to suggest they personally killed her theres nothing mentioning any spilled blood its just that she's a sacrifice. and then it hit me she's sitting outside in her art. her feet are in the grass. as opposed to apoptosis whos sitting at the same window on presumably the other side where theres no grass. tenshi's outside.

may i remind u in both aru sekai shoushitsu and kyuuyaku hankagai the state of the outside world is very dangerous with things collapsing and natural disasters happening & people needing to be hospitalized from it (at least in shoushitsu).

are you fucking telling me these people had the nerve to set up a fucking sacrifice and couldnt even stomach doing it themselves so they just fucking sent her out to die in the elements. that cannot possibly be the truth someone tell me im wrong that cant be how she dies i cant accept that that down right CRUEL i can accept direct murder but this is inhumane

[im-smart-i-swear]

wooo funky guys doodle dump!! mostly tashi and buddy lol

i havent had the energy to really finish anything bigger lately but these are fun to draw!! 

[snarltoothed]

yo barbies do have absolutely inhuman proportions and theyve given ken a truckload of cake. just an observation after play acting a barbie affair to a toddler and trying to reiterate the points her mom was trying to make every time she was upset through Ken, who had to be the voice of reason the way Barbie and Barnie kept hitting & yeling at him bc he had a baby with Barnie and their baby can magically fly and is causing a whole lot of problems and infected Dr. Mouse with her magical flying ability but neither of them are good at it and they keep sustaining what should be fatal injuries by jumping off of rooves and i got nowhere in probing about why Baby and Dr. Mouse want to hurt themselves and won’t just rest it off like Dr. Mouse said before she got magic infection and like Dr. Unicorn said before that before he died (permanently i guess she never brought him back lol) because this little girl had more insistence toward playing barbies for “just a little longer” than i have ever had toward ANYTHING…

(like. 2 hours of barbies prior to driving her around and hoping she’d sleep then bringing her to a playground trying to tire her out then the long way home to see if she’d pass out then for like 3 hours but ALAS she wanted to play barbies again within the hour and we continued on and off for 5. hours. i was three feet from the dolls to take my meds and a drink of water and she was like “ken…?” and i was like “one second honey ken is distracted by the movie but i’ll come back over in just a minute i just need to do something real quick” and she was just like “no! no!” and intensely cried for the 30 seconds it took me to swallow 👁👄👁)

((maybe i was also bossy af at her age, suppose maybe i wouldnt remember being tantrum prone toddler lmao… everything i remember i feel like i was pretty meek but i probs cried a lot. idk if i WAILED tho. my mom describes me as “perfect (in terms of childhood behavior) until puberty”. whereas my brother was a monster until about 3 or 4 and she isnt afraid to say so… either way no judgement unto the toddler, i probably started internalizing my feelings way too young for that to be healthy. tangent. my b.))

anyways point being: why are barbie’s legs still so fucking long??? her torso is more normal these days than 20 years ago but ye gods, the woman has still gotta be 7ft tall… and why can’t we out barbie in flats? literally why does she still have deformed ballerina feet? little girls don’t wear heels. little girls shouldn’t wear heels? not like that? because adult fucking women shouldn’t? (thankfully my psuedoneice wants everyone but ken naked ?)

SECOND POINT BEING: MOMFEMS, SINGLE MOMS, MOTHERS IN GENERAL… i have the utmost fucking respect for you. mothers do more for the world than ANY man, EVERY government & law system, fuck, even all the goddamn charities and every single scientific discovery presently known or yet to be found out. and it is NOT EASY WORK!! it is often THANKLESS WORK. it is always UNPAID WORK. mad fucking respect to moms. i could never.

[raeathnos]

.

[goodbye-susan]

.

[parlerenfleurs]

One of my new neighbour has, I think, two young kids, and at least one of them is crying basically every day.

And I'm reminded of my own childhood, and, even more, I'm thinking of No Home, and of Haejoon telling Eunyung that his mom would call social services on their neighbours even if their kid was just crying too often. This scene struck me.

And. Yeah. No jokes this casual traumatising needs to stop, and perhaps we should call social services on people more often.

Maybe it would have helped us if someone had.

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.