#it was originally just supposed to be me and one friend. so. this was not the plan

[xenodelic]

OK so, we've gotten a lot of replies along the lines of, "But I'm just [x], what am I supposed to do?"

This is where we're going to go into our philosophy of non/alterhumanity. To us, there is a purpose to being non/alt-h. We feel this way for spiritual reasons, but it's a philosophy that can be chosen by anyone regardless of their ontological framework.

There is a purpose to being something other than human. There are lessons you can teach humans, perspectives you can give, unique frameworks that can only be understood through the lens of your experience.

For those of us who are nonhuman, we have the unique position of being able to communicate to humans in their own languages, and tell them what it's like. I can tell people what it means to me to be a slime mold, to be connected to the roots of my environment, to hear the trees speaking to one another and to decompose deceased creatures into something new.

I can tell them what it's like to be a lycanthrope, to exist in between worlds, to feel both fundamentally humanlike and beastly and the same time.

These are the sorts of things we can share with those around us. For those who are open minded, hearing these different perspectives can open them up to things they had never considered. It may bring them closer to their natural environment to know that the creatures they share the world with have just as complex and varied experiences as they do. It may help them feel less alone to know there are beings from other worlds and even other realities out there.

We put a lot of emphasis in the original post on direct action, but any open expression of being something Other can be equally as radical. Humans rely on communication to understand the world around them. To us, it's not only something we can do, but it is in fact our duty, our responsibility, to bridge the gap between humans and the other.

That is what the post is about. You have the capability to have an impact on those around you. It may seem small or insignificant, but think about the difference it would make to an insect, if a human decides not to kill them because they have a friend whose an insect. You've changed that person's perspective, and saved a life in doing so.

Your impact matters. YOU matter. The biggest change you can have on the world is to be who you are openly and proudly.

To all the alterhumans / nonhumans who dont know what to do: now is the time for you to start putting your money where your mouth is.

If youre an animal, it's time for you to be a goddamn animal. Be feral, Be aggressive, fight for your life.

If you're a dragon, then be a terror to Kings, and start burning down the halls of power like the dragons of yore.

If you're a mythical creature, have no concern for the social constructs of man. Stand proudly outside what people even believe is possible.

If you're plural, know you're never alone. Fight against individualism that seeks to divide each body into deterministic boxes.

If you're a fictional character who saved the world, believe that you can save any world. Don't back down now.

Now is the time to really believe that you are what you say you are. People in power are going to try to take that away from you. Don't fall for it.

It's time shed any preconceptions you have about what you're capable of. If you're an animal it's time to fight like one. A dragon that uses gasoline and matches is still a dragon.

All bets are off. If they want to treat us like dogs in a cage then im gonna start ripping fascists' throats out like one. And I'd better see y'all there with me, on G-d.

[official-sonic-team]

my suggestion for a oneshot would be sonic and knuckles having a heart to heart about what sonic's appearance on the ruin walls meant for knuckles growing up alone

“Ah ha! Found you!”

Knuckles jerks back into a fighting stance, spines prickled, fists raised. Intruders rarely managed to get past the defense system, so this one must be a large threat to have evaded every single one, and manage to sneak up on him!

“Woah-ho! Did I manage to sneak up on the great guardian of Angel Island and it’s precious Master Emerald?”

Knuckles relaxes. It’s just this jerk again. “Sonic, I told you to warn me before you showed up. One of these days you’re going to get skewed on one of my traps and I’m going to laugh at you.”

“You’re just mad that I’m too fast for any of those traps to catch me!”

“How did you find me, anyway?”

“Oh, you always seem to be down here.”

Here was the hidden palace. The dilapidated ruin had been long rumored to have been the home of the chief of the Knuckles clan for generations before their ruin. It was one of the better preserved pieces of architecture on Angel Island, and Knuckles had spent many lonely nights beneath the roof of this place, when rain or snow or other temperamental weather shooed him from his usual shrine.

“What does that mean?” Knuckles mutters, feeling oddly defensive. It was sometimes odd to be reminded that his friends noticed his habits, his behaviors. Even after all this time, it was strange to be perceived, to know that people thought of him even when he wasn’t around. 

“Just noticed that you tend to hole away here whenever you’re not at the main shrine.” Sonic shrugs. “I don’t get the appeal, personally. Would much rather be outside, napping under the sun.”

“I don’t nap. I’m a vigilant guardian of the most sacred and powerful artifact man has ever learned the existence of.”

“Uh huh,” Sonic teases. “Right. And I’m the king of the Kingdom of Acorn.”

“Oh, shut it!”

Knuckles turns away from him, back to facing the mural he had been studying. Perhaps that had been a bad move, for it reminded him of his earlier thoughts. The mural of a blue creature surrounded by gold attacking a mustached creature who had captured the Master Emerald. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, I wanted to make sure I knew how to fly a plane. Borrowed the Tornado, did a few barrel rolls, and realized I was nearby.”

Knuckles snorts. “Is it borrowing if the plane was originally yours?”

“Oh, you and I both know it belongs to Tails. Even if I wanted it back, he’s not going to be letting go of it anytime soon.” Sonic hums, placing his hands behind his head as he stands directly next to Knuckles. “What do you do down here, anyway? Feels like you’re always here.”

Knuckles frowns. “I… like to reread the ancient scripture that accompanies these murals. I’ve read them a thousand times already, but… I suppose it just helps me feel connected to my ancestors.”

Sonic hums. “So the Knuckles Clan made this?”

Knuckles crosses his arms. “Yes. It’s a similar style to many of their other carvings.”

“Do you think there’s anything on this island that once belonged to the Ancients?”

That was certainly a thought Knuckles had chewed on for a long while. When he had been a child on this island, and had begun to properly hone his skills in artifacts and manuscripts, he had noticed parts of Angel Island’s ruins often appeared… mismatched. He simply assumed there had been a civilization before the echidnas that lived on this island, who may have even inspired the echidnas in their own culture and religion. The statues in Hydrocity, for instance, had always bothered him as being stylistically different than much of the other stylized statues the Knuckles Clan would create, and he wondered on occasion if they influenced the mural they were currently staring at.

“There’s a lot of ancient technology on this island. I’ve always wondered how the Knuckles Clan could have possibly created it if the god of Chaos had detested them so much. And they had sworn to protect the Master Emerald so no one could make the same mistakes as them… it always felt counterintuitive for them to be using it’s power for their own gain, even if its a harmless one.”

Sonic whistles. “Interesting.”

It clearly wasn’t. Knuckles had long ago tried to explain the intricacies of archeology and treasure hunting to Sonic, but he was firmly uninterested in the subject. No thrashing and bashing? No dice. If Knuckles talked for too long, Sonic would dip out from the conversation and disappear.

Knuckles turns his attention to the mural. He was taking a big leap with this one, but… Part of him was itching to scratch Sonic’s brain about this. “This was my favorite mural, growing up.”

“Oh?”

“Much of the inscription is lost to time and erosion. But what I can make out details a great hero coming to save the world.” Knuckles takes a deep breath. “It had meant a lot to me as a child alone on this island, to think that someone might one day come to save…” This felt to vulnerable to admit, to finish the lingering me he was going to add. “... the Master Emerald, and I would no longer be alone.”

Knuckles chances a glance at Sonic. His expression remains neutral, his eyes centered on the blue figure in the mural. His foot wasn’t tapping, however, which meant he hadn’t been testing Sonic’s patience with something so mushy. There’s a chance he might get a dialogue opened between them.

Ever since Knuckles was a child and had figured out to read, this mural had been one he spent as much time as he could near. Many of the other murals and stories were of tragedy, for the Echidnas had been cast out from the rest of society by their own greed, and were determined to never let their mistake befall them again. And, too, their species began to dwindle, and a hopelessness someday settled deep in their bones, and within their stories.

Knuckles couldn’t blame them for their sorrow. What befell the Knuckles Clan was a tragedy that would lead to their own extinction over one mistake. It was sometimes a bit much for Knuckles to bear, to know that he was the last of his kind, all because of Pachacamac’s lust for power. 

And that’s what made this mural so enchanting to a young child. To see a hero valiantly fighting against an invader, protecting his home, saving his people, saving himself. He dreamed, many times as a child, that this hero would come and rescue him. That the duty of protecting the Master Emerald would no longer be his, that the sins of his forefathers would be paid, and Knuckles's bondage would be broken. Knuckles would be free to live life how he wanted, for there was someone who would be able to keep his home safe. 

It wasn’t quite the case, in the end.

Someone blue and bright and heroic showed up on his island one day when he was twelve to defeat an invader stealing his emerald. An annoying, aggravating, irritating eleven year old boy who toted around a four year old sidekick. Some kid younger than him who made immature and crude jokes and was thoroughly uninterested in the island and it’s history and the emerald beyond keeping it free from Robotnik’s hands. 

Oh, twelve year old Knuckles’s blood boiled at the very thought of that blue prick who appeared on his island one day and turned his entire life upside down.

“My ancestors say it’s supposed to be a prophecy,” Knuckles carefully added. 

That receives a derisive snort from Sonic.

“Do you really believe in that?” Sonic asks. 

“It came true,” Knuckles murmurs. 

And it did, in ways Knuckles couldn’t quite comprehend at twelve years old, but knew well at sixteen. For Sonic, in his irritating, antagonizing, stupid way… still did manage to save Knuckles’s life.

He defeated Dr. Robotnik that day, casting himself in a cocoon of gold and Chaos, destroying Robotnik’s machines and returning the Master Emerald back to Angel Island. And beyond that, it was Sonic who became Knuckles’s true first friend, who taught him how there was more to life than just guarding the Master Emerald, that he could balance his duty and his desires and still live a fulfilling life. 

Perhaps no hero had swept in and took away his duty. But Knuckles was still grateful nonetheless for what Sonic had taught him, even if he’s never truly managed to tell him. 

“Do we even know it was predicting that fight on Angel Island four years ago?” Sonic clicks his tongue. “Why would they bother predicting that fight, anyway? It’s not even the most interesting thing we’ve seen. I mean, why not predict Perfect Chaos re-emerging? Or the End? Or Eggman breaking apart the entire Earth for Dark Gaia? It’s not important, in the grand scheme of things.”

“Of course it’s important!” Knuckles snaps. 

Sonic blinks. Knuckles grinds his teeth. 

He shouldn’t be surprised. Sonic had been going on countless adventures even before the Angel Island adventure. Let alone everything he had seen afterwards. Why would the most important moment of Knuckles’s life mean anything to him, in the end? What importance could it possibly have when it was just a routine battle to stop Eggman? When he had fought greater and mightier powers than just Eggman’s insatiable greed and some plucky twelve year old guardian of an empty home and a powerful emerald?

Sonic looks back at the mural, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t believe in destiny, fate, or whatever. I’ve never liked the idea that someone else was pulling my strings. Some people find it a comforting thought, to know that everything happens for a reason. I like to think I make my own choices.”

A silence passes between them.

“I made my choice that day, to chase after Robotnik and show up on this island. I think that us choosing to meet is much nicer than thinking we were fated to.”

Knuckles turns to face Sonic, who’s still peering at that mural.

“I chose to come here, to fight you, to eventually help you. To face down Eggman and bring the Master Emerald back. And I’ve chosen every subsequent meeting as well. So believe, perhaps, that that day was fated, foretold, or whatever. But every moment after hasn’t been. And I think that’s much more interesting.”

Knuckles is quiet. The day they met had been the most infuriating day of his life. But it wasn’t entirely the day that he was saved. It was every subsequent day after, when the two of them crossed paths, when Sonic and his rivalry turned into mutual respect, into friendship. It was a cataclysm, an explosion, and in the rubble the two began to build something Knuckles can not name but knows it to be worth more than gold.

Knuckles turns away rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll never understand you, Sonic.”

“Ha! Now, are we done with this boring conversation?” Sonic taps his foot. Knuckles’s time has run out. “What do you think about me taking you on a flight?”

“Ugh, no way! I’ve seen you fly a plane before, I know you do too many barrel rolls.”

Sonic's eyes sparkle with mischief. “Oh? And you can’t handle a little bit of turbulence? To think you call yourself a great guardian!”

“Bah! I can handle anything you throw at me.”

“Challenge accepted!” Sonic grabs his hand and Knuckles braces himself for a super sonic sprint. “I think our group is ready to board! Let’s go!”

To think this was the same person his people had once written a prophecy for. 

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters):

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Chapters:

Neon Lights Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: while imani processes her lingering pain over jameson’s constant betrayals, jameson reels from her inattention. torn between loyalty to her best friend and processing her own feelings, genie grapples with guilt and anxiety while ej does his best to take care of her. sloane attempts to celebrate the split between jameson and imani but genie intervenes.

Warnings: toxic relationship, them b words! (watch them b words!), explicit terminology, dirty talk (kinda), usage of the n-word (if you white and read it, you owe us $20) -- if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 5.6k Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: 

The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

1 week after Sloane's party

Jameson leaned against the kitchen counter, his phone clutched in his hand as he stared at the screen in surprise. The image of Christian reflected back at him and he briefly wondered when he even started following that nigga. A quick glance to the left-hand corner told him it was Imani's Instagram account. Imani? With Christian? He couldn't even see that bastard's face but knew he was probably happy as fuck to be with Imani.

Look who came to visit.

The caption made his stomach churn. There was nothing downright explicit or implicated more but the simple fact that she had taken the picture, thought of the caption, and posted it? It made him sick. He knew for a fact she couldn't stand him. After things ended abruptly between Christian and Genie, Imani hadn't seen it for him. Ever. But now they were close enough for him to visit?

Texts left on read. Calls that went straight to voicemail. The silence was deafening.

Jameson immediately left the app and went to his messages, texting her a blitz of...admittedly emotional responses. She still hadn't responded to any of the ones before. He put his phone face down on the counter, trying to rein in his temper. He didn’t need to read the comments to know what they said. Fans were undoubtedly cheering it on. Shit talking about how 'cute' he probably was. Wondering if she had finally replaced him.

What if she had? What if the space where he stood was going to belong to another person? Not just Christian -- anybody? That was enough to turn his stomach.

Jameson's hand clenched into a fist and he turned around, hitting the first thing he saw...which so happened to be EJ's fridge. His fist dented the medal but it hurt him a hell of a lot more than it did the inanimate object.

“Ay, muhfucka! I got that imported from France. Watch that shit. What's your problem?” Jameson glanced up to see EJ rounding the corner, a cup of coffee in his hand. He couldn't quite blame his best friend for being irritated but he was going through some shit.

“Her Instagram.” Jameson muttered, nodding toward his phone. EJ walked over, picked up the phone, and whistled low when he saw the post. “Ain't this a bitch.” He scrolled through the comments briefly before setting the phone down. “They have a ship name too. Chrismani sound stupid tho.”

Jameson glared at him and EJ quickly put the phone down, shrugging. "My bad, man." “What am I supposed to do? She’s not answering my calls. She’s ignoring my texts. And now she’s letting him—” Jameson cut himself off, shaking his head. He didn't know what the fuck the two had going on but either way, he didn't like that shit.

“Letting him what? Exist?” EJ raised an eyebrow. “Because that’s what it looks like to me. You give this nigga way too much power, man. Genie has a history with him, right? You know Imani. She not going too far with him."

Jameson frowned at EJ. He was right but he also knew..."Please. If you saw the girl you loved posted up with somebody else a week after ignoring your calls, you'd be tripping too." He didn't know what to do when it came to Imani. “She told me to choose. I could be friends with Sloane or I could be with her.”

EJ set his coffee down and crossed his arms, leaning against the counter as he stared at his best friend. “Okay? So Sloane's out. Now what?" Jameson began to rub his hand over his fist, rolling his eyes in agitation. "It's not that easy!"

EJ cocked his head, leaning against the counter as he stared at Jameson with wide eyes. "Fuck you mean it's not that easy? Lose a friend, gain a girlfriend. Besides, Genie don't like her and Genie likes everybody. That's how you know something is up with her."

Jameson sighed softly, reaching to snatch his phone off the counter again. EJ had a point. Genie and Sloane had fallen out around the time he and Imani had become serious. He never knew what happened but wanted them both to feel like they could count on him. He didn't want to take sides. His friend vs his sister? He didn't want to decide. "Sloane doesn't have anybody."

"She had a house full of people at that party last week." "None of those people give a shit about her." "And you do?" "Of course I do." "You want that girl?" "No! No. I'm so fucking tired of being accused of that shit. I've known her since she was fifteen. I knew her when she could barely look you in the eyes when she was talking to you. She was lonely as fuck. And she's still lonely. I'm sorry I feel guilty abandoning her."

Jameson saw EJ's face change. From confusion to understanding all in an instant and for some reason -- he hated it. "You keep saying you're 'abandoning' her. You're not, man. She's a grown up." Jameson braced himself, knowing what EJ was going to say next. "She's not you and you are not your father."

He shut it down within a second, shaking his head as he quickly moved out of the kitchen. His father was a forbidden subject. Nobody brought the man up. Not his mother, not the press. Nobody. As far as the world was concerned, it was just Anais and James Lucas against the world. "It's not about that, man. I just don't want to abandon my friend."

"Do you want Imani back?" EJ called out to him, following. "Of course I do." "Let Sloane go. You can't let her think Christian is the only muhfucka that cares about how she feels. Let her go."

Jameson stared at him, the words sinking in.

“You’ve got options,” EJ said, approaching him and patting his hand against Jameson's shoulder. “Write her a song. Send her flowers. Show up at the studio if you have to. You flew to fucking Italy within a minute. Why are you hesitating now? Don't sit there and let this nigga come take what's yours."

Jameson hesitated. “You think that’ll work?”

EJ shrugged. “I think it’s better than...you know. Punching my shit and stalking her on Instagram. You’ve always been a fighter, J. Don’t stop now.”

Jameson nodded slowly, his mind already spinning with ideas. EJ clapped him on the shoulder before heading out of the kitchen, leaving Jameson alone with his thoughts. He unlocked the phone in his hand and went back to Instagram, staring at the picture of Christian on her page. It was bullshit but EJ was right. He couldn't give up on her. He swore he never would.

The texts came through fast, almost as if he didn't have to think about what he was sending. She didn't take any pleasure in his reaction. Not really. But Imani needed something to flip that damn switch in Jameson's mind. He needed to know she wasn't playing. The mention of Genie made her heart hurt though. She texted her before she posted the picture of Christian but there had been no response. There hadn't been a response afterward either and Imani was praying she didn't hold this against her.

She forced herself not to finish reading Jameson's texts. She closed out the messages and went back to Instagram. Cross-legged on her couch, the soft glow of her phone screen illuminating her face in the dim living room, she scrolled through the comments on her post.

The likes were climbing rapidly, as they always did. Thousands of comments flooded in, a mix of excitement, speculation, and blatant nosiness.

"With your bestie ex? Oh, messy Mani." "What about Jameson tho? 👀" "Girl, you’re glowing without him. Keep winning!"

Her thumb hovered over that last comment, her heart clenching. Glowing without him. Was she?

She tossed her phone onto the cushion beside her, leaning back against the couch. The praise and speculation didn’t fill the hollow ache that had been gnawing at her for days. It wasn’t about Christian—he was nothing. She felt absolutely nothing for the man. She got the vibe that he wanted something with her but Imani couldn't tell if he was delusional or just stupid to really think she'd give him the time of day after he was with her best friend. Then again...People thought that's exactly what she was doing.

The post wasn’t about him though. It was about the one person who wasn’t tagged, wasn’t mentioned, but was still present in every corner of her mind.

Jameson.

He kept letting her down. Choosing other people over her. She wouldn't him do it again. She closed her eyes, and the memories came rushing back like a tidal wave.

It was late, and the city lights outside their hotel room window shimmered like stars. She remembered sitting on the edge of the bed, the air thick with tension. Jameson stood in front of her, his hands trembling as he admitted the unthinkable. The night he ruined their relationship. All their problems went back to that one moment. “I slept with her.” he’d said, his voice raw and cracking. “I'm so sorry. Mani, I...I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. I was drunk. I swear to god.” Her heart had shattered in that moment, the weight of his words crushing her. She remembered the way her chest had tightened, the disbelief that had turned into anger, then grief. They were done, she knew that. He knew that. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Huh? It's fuck me, huh?!” she’d whispered, her voice trembling. Her entire body shaking. “I trusted you. I gave you everything.” “Mani, please,” he’d begged, dropping to his knees in front of her, reaching for her hands. She snatched them away, trying to get up from the bed but Jameson grasped her by the waist, keeping her trapped. She pushed against his shoulders, twisting out of his grasp as tears filled her eyes. “I'm going to fix it, baby. I swear to god, I'll fix it. I'm sorry.” "Let me go! You can't fix this shit!" "Yes, I can. I can fix it. I'll be better." "Jameson. You just told me you fucked another bitch and you really think I'm going to give you a chance to fix it? We're done. It's over."

She opened her eyes, the memory dissipating like smoke, but the sting remained. She reached for her phone again, scrolling back to her post. The comments about Jameson were multiplying, each one a reminder of the life they’d shared and the pain he’d caused.

She couldn’t go back to that. She wouldn’t.

Her thumb hovered over the delete button for a moment before she pulled her hand away. No, she thought. Let him have to keep seeing it. Let him wonder. Let the tags in the comments be a reminder. “You won't get to the chance to play me again.” she whispered, her voice steady.

With that, she exited the app, her resolve solidifying. If Jameson wanted her back, he’d have to do more than beg. He’d have to prove he was worthy of her trust—and she wasn’t sure she’d ever believe that again.

Imani opened her texts, shooting a message to her engineer and manager. She had written so much shit when she was trying to get over the betrayal Jameson had done -- it was enough for albums. Why not use this pain to start a new chapter in her life? She spent so much of her time worrying about him. It was time to worry about herself. Her music. Her career.

Genie had done her best to put it out of her mind. The picture was exploding all over social media. She'd been tagged in it almost as much as Jameson was and each time made her chest tighten. The knot of anxiety she’d been carrying all day pulling tighter. She promised to meet EJ for lunch and had arrived early, sitting primly and perfectly -- covered in Chanel. Her beautiful dark coils pressed perfectly and swept back in a french curl. She looked much better than she felt.

She had known Imani was going to post it. The text had come hours before, but Genie hadn’t responded. She’d stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. What could she say? No one knew the whole story of she and Christian. All she told Imani was that it was over. But shouldn't that have been enough? Of all the men to use to make Jameson jealous, why him?

She had complicated feelings about Imani playing with Jameson's feelings as well -- but it wasn't as if she didn't have good reason. He was her brother but he was an idiot sometimes. The image was out in the world and Genie felt that her silence was almost complicity in hurting Jameson. If the gossip was correct, Sloane was a thorn in their relationship and Genie knew a surefire way to get her out.

EJ finally arrived and Genie glanced up to see him making his way to their table -- led by the hostess. A smile curved her lips as the two maintained eye contact. She had never been so enamored with a man before. Even that crush she had on Christian had been bullshit compared to how EJ made her feel. They kept their relationship fairly casual. After their night at Sloane's party, he had been with her every step of the way, reassuring her and being patient with her. He was more than she deserved.

Before he sat down, he came to her side of the table and kissed her softly. It was a brief touch of his lips but the stiffness in her shoulders relaxed. She felt the tightening of her chest relax and for a minute, she felt like she could breathe. "Hi, baby." He told her softly, moving to take his seat as she poured him a glass of wine. His sharp eyes flicking to the phone on the table. “I guess you've seen it.,” he said, nodding toward it. “Jamie isn't too happy either.”

Genie hesitated, then nodded to confirm she saw it. “She said it was to make Jameson jealous, but…” She trailed off, placing the bottle back on the table. "I don't know. It seems so out of character for her. Mani can be petty but she doesn't waste her time with people she doesn't give a fuck about. I don't think she understands what she's getting into."

EJ nodded, lifting his hand to gesture to a waiter for a glass of water. He was totally different from her. He worried about their friends but Genie took it totally to heart. Probably because she loved them both. EJ loved Jameson -- she was sure he hadn't decided how he felt about Imani yet. "I told him to go get his girl back. But I kind of regret it now."

Genie prepared herself to defend Imani. Jameson was her brother but she wasn't ready to absolve him of his sins. Especially when the reason their relationship was so chaotic was because he cheated a year ago. "They love each other so that wasn't a mistake. They just...they can't seem to get it together.," she said softly. “This is going to make everything worse. For her. For Jameson. For everyone.”

EJ leaned back, studying her with a mix of concern. “Did you tell her that?”

“I...I couldn't." Genie sighed, then immediately regretted the admission. “I mean, I wanted to. But what was I supposed to say? ‘Don’t post him because he’s a jerk who’s going to ruin your life?’ I didn't want her to think I was jealous.”

EJ raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

Genie opened her mouth to deny it, but the words caught in her throat. She had been jealous at the party. It had caused a twinge to her heart to see a man she used to want choosing other women over her. Women she loved deeply and respected. He had already taken Sloane. Now Imani? She had been scared. But as she gazed at EJ, she knew he was one of a kind. There wasn't a man like him in the world. How dare she be jealous over a man who wasn't worth it when one who was sat in front of her. “I’m not jealous. Anymore.,” she said finally, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I’m scared. For her. For Jameson. I don’t want to see either of them hurt. Between Sloane and Christian, their relationship could easily snap.”

EJ’s expression softened. He reached out and took her hand, brushing his thumb back and forth across her skin, “You worry too much about other people, Genie. It’s gonna tear you apart if you let it.”

Genie looked down at his hand, the warmth of his touch grounding her. “I can’t help it,” she murmured.

“I know. You got the kind of heart I love. But maybe it’s time you focused on you,” EJ said gently. “Let them figure it out. You’ve got your own life to live, Genie. Your own man to worry about."

"Oh? Are you my man?" "Didn't you cum on my face a few times? I could have sworn last night that you begged me to --"

Genie's eyes went wide as she peered around the restaurant to see if anyone heard him. No one did but her reaction made EJ laugh. She snatched her hand from his, reaching over to slap his wrist.

"Stop it! Don't say that out loud!" "It's true. You did. And you're gonna do it again when we leave here." "Is that all you're going to do?" "For now." "What if I want more?" "I gotta make sure you're ready. So stop babysitting everybody else and let me take care of you for a change." "Yes, sir." "Ooh. Keep that up. I like that."

She smiled faintly, though the knot in her stomach didn’t loosen. For the rest of the lunch, she and EJ didn't mention Jameson and Imani but her gaze kept straying to the phone. Thoughts of Christian and Sloane filtered through her mind. For her last act of babysitting -- she was going to make sure they didn't ruin Imani and Jameson's second chance. If they couldn't get it right, it had to be on their own terms. Not anybody else's.

It was nightfall by the time Genie managed to convince EJ to let her out of bed. He asked her to let everyone figure their shit out but she had to get this out. Once she promised him she'd wash her hands of it after talking to Jameson, he gave her a kiss and let her go. Texting Jameson and telling him it was an emergency was probably dramatic but he shared his location with her. When she pulled up to the recording studio, he was waiting outside -- leaning against his Range Rover.

He watched her curiously as she parked and got out, lifting his hand to press to her shoulder as he escorted her inside -- like an annoyed but worried older brother would. When they were settled in a quiet, private studio, finally he leaned in and nudged her arm. "Talk. You kind of scaring me."

They sat in front of the mixing console, a track playing lowly in the background. Genie could tell it was one of his. She knew his voice anywhere but hadn't heard this song before. She understood a few words here and there but couldn't catch the rhythm of the song. Jamie looked tense, his shoulders stiff. She knew he hadn't been able to shake the thoughts of Imani and Christian from his mind.

“What’s going on?”

Genie hesitated, the weight of what she was about to say pressing down on her. She took a deep breath and shrugged out of her jacket. "There’s a lot you don’t know. Things I’ve been keeping to myself because I didn’t want to -- Well, I wasn't brave enough to do what Imani did. I didn't want to make you choose. But after everything that’s happened -- Imani, that post, the way Christian's been acting -- I can’t stay quiet anymore.”

Jameson’s expression darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes as he grasp her hands in his. “What did he do?”

Genie exhaled shakily, her voice trembling as she began. “Christian and I -- it was a fluke from the beginning. Maybe I was too presumptive but I...I told Sloane how I felt. She encouraged me to pursue him. So I did. I put myself out there." Tears filled her eyes as she thought of the way she had embarrassed herself. The sting of being rejected had faded but losing Sloane -- knowing what she had done? That would never go away.

"I found them together. At your afterparty for the Grammys. They were...Well, they were fucking. In your pool house. I didn't say a word. I turned around and left but I confronted Sloane afterward." Genie took a breath and forced herself to continue. "She didn’t even deny it. Said it was no big deal because...it wasn't like he wanted me anyway. He liked someone else. She knew and didn't tell me. I stopped talking to her that night.”

She felt his grip around her fingers tighten for a moment before they relaxed. The look on his face was...a lot like hers the night Sloane had shown who she was. Devasated. Confused. Disbelief. “She said that to you?”

Genie nodded, her throat tightening as tears fell. “I told Christian I was sorry. Can you believe it? I apologized for not being who he wanted. It was embarrassing. I'm starting to think who he wanted...was Imani.”

Jameson shook his head but all the pieces were falling into place. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding her.”

“Yes,” Genie said, her voice firmer now as she pulled her hands free and wiped her eyes. “And it’s why I think you need to let her go, J. Do what Imani said. Choose her. Sloane only cares about herself and she’s only going to drag you down.”

Jameson leaned back in his seat. “She was your friend. I wouldn't even know her if it wasn't for you. You loved her before anybody else and she...she did that to you.”

“Yes,” Genie said gently. “If anybody knows what it's like to see the best in Sloane, it's me. I always saw it. Until she showed me something else, Jameson. Don't wait until she shows you.”

He looked up at her then, a spark of anger in his eyes. "And Christian?”

Genie’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I don't know. He may really like Imani but she...she deserves better." She may be there to help Jameson fix things but she couldn't bring herself to tell him that Imani was just trying to make him jealous. Loyalty to both kept her conflicted.

They sat in silence for a while so Jameson could process everything. He was distracted, clearly overwhelmed, but she knew what he would do when he spoke next. "I love you, you know?" he told Genie softly, his voice thick with emotion. "You and your dad...you two gave me and Ma everything we needed to feel like a family. You're my sister, Genie. I wouldn't ever let anybody hurt you."

She gave him a faint smile, tears filling her eyes again. For somebody who could write music, he had never been eloquent with her about his feelings. They irritated each other like siblings but she had never truly said it to him. "I love you too." Genie said softly. “I wouldn't ever let anybody hurt you either. That's why Sloane has to get out of our lives. Now.”

Jameson nodded, agreeing without words. “I threw everything away with Imani to be loyal to somebody who didn't deserve it.”

Genie reached out, squeezing his knee. “It may not be over. Try it. Let her know you choose her. Over anything. Even if you guys don't work it out, at least you’ll know you did everything you could. But you can’t move forward if you’re still holding onto people like Sloane.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of her words sinking in. “You’re right,” he said finally.

Genie smiled faintly, relief washing over her. “Good. Now, go clean up your mess.”

He gave her a small, rueful laugh. “I'm not good at that.”

“Get good at it.,” she said, standing and placing a kiss to his forehead...before slapping him on the back of the neck. Jameson flinched but only stared up at her. “Consider this my retirement from worrying about you and Imani. My man told me to stop.”

His brows furrowed as she turned to leave the studio. "What man?!" he called out after her. Genie ignored him and continued on to her car to get back home to EJ.

God had to have a sense of humor. No sooner had he watched Genie zip off in her car, he'd gotten a text from Sloane. A dinner invitation. He had been seconds from texting a denial but he knew this message was better delivered in person -- so he agreed to show up. He spent the entire drive to her place stewing in anger -- pissed at her and himself. He had spent months bringing this girl around Genie, around Imani. Begging them to give her a shot. He hadn't even asked why she and Genie had fallen apart. He was a shit friend and a shit boyfriend.

The elevator doors slid open, and Jameson stepped into the hallway leading to Sloane’s penthouse. His jaw tight and he had no idea how to release his tension. He had no idea what he planned to say. There was so much in his head. All he wanted to do was yell at her. Make her give him a valid reason for the shit she'd been doing. The weight of Genie’s confession bore down on him, and the idea of confronting Sloane left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He knocked twice, his knuckles rapping sharply against the wood. Moments later, the door swung open, and Sloane appeared, her face lighting up like the sun.

“Jamie! Just in time! Dinner is almost done.” she exclaimed, pulling the door wide for him to enter. When he did so, she immediately wrapped her arms around him. “Hi. I missed you.”

Her perfume was light and airy. In another place, another time, he probably would have complimented her on it and told her that he missed her too. And that would have been the wrong thing to do. Becoming disillusioned with Sloane made him notice everything. The way she clung to him, the way she looked up at him with bright eyes, the darkened apartment, the Ella Fitzgerald album -- one of his favorites -- playing softly in the background. He stood stiffly, not hugging her back but it didn't seem to phase her. She took her time hugging him, only pulling back when she deemed it was over.

Jameson’s expression didn’t waver. “We just saw each other last week at the party, Sloane,” he said, his voice cutting sharper than the edge of a blade.

She blinked, momentarily thrown off by his tone. “I know. It still feels like it’s been a minute…”

Jameson stepped further away from her, his movements deliberate. He glanced around, noting the intimate setup of the dining table—a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a single candle flickering softly. The oven lit up with the smell of a dinner that he couldn't quite place. Genie had lit the match but everything was ablaze now. Imani's accusations were crystal clear in his mind. God, she had been right.

“I saw Imani posted Christian on Instagram,” Sloane said, her voice carefully measured. “I’m sorry…you don’t deserve that.”

Jameson’s jaw tightened as he stood with his back with her, trying to get a grasp on his anger. “Imani's mine to worry about.”

“I-I know,” Sloane stammered, moving closer to him. Her voice softened, dripping with concern. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, Jamie.” She reached out for his hand, her fingers brushing against his. “You can call me if you need anything.”

Jameson didn’t move. His demeanor was rigid, his body language screaming discomfort. He didn’t bother to touch her hand, his gaze fixed on hers with an intensity that made her falter.

“Is everything okay?” Sloane asked, her voice uncertain. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a small, confused smile. “You’re not acting like my Jamie.”

"Did you fuck Christian?" he asked her abruptly, tilting his head to look at her. He saw it for a second. For one second, she looked caught off guard. She looked...exposed. But then the guard went up, her brow furrowed and she gave him a laugh. He could see her about to lie. "Don't. Don't you dare lie to me. I've had enough of that."

She hesitated but then moved away, heading back to the table. She tripped over her own heels and clumsily poured herself a glass of wine. Jameson finally moved, the tension draining from his body the more he confronted her. Sloane lifted the glass to gulp down wine before Jameson continued on. "Genie told me everything." He watched her choke on the liquid, leaning forward as she coughed loudly and took deep breaths. "And I got to thinking -- if she could do that to her best friend...what else could she do?"

She turned wide eyes to him as she continued to try to catch her breath. "Christian was...a mistake." She gasped out, shaking her head. "It was just a night. We were drunk! We got carried away!"

He heard the same mistakes he gave Imani and his stomach churned again, shaking his head. "You destroyed someone who loved you. Better than anyone else. Do you think that excuse works? You hurt the kindest fucking person in the world. And you hurt her because you could. You humiliated her! And you act like nothing happened! You didn't even have the fucking decency to tell her you're sorry!"

Sloane’s lips parted, but no words came out. She looked at him, searching for some sign of forgiveness, but all she could see was disappointment and anger. It's all he had left for her.

“I believed in you. Imani told me to choose and I...I said I wouldn't but I did. I fucking chose you because I thought you were a good person. I thought you needed me. A friend.” Jameson continued, his voice low and steady.

"I do need you!" "You don't need me! You want me. There's a fucking difference, Sloane!"

He heard his phone notifications go off but he ignored it. Even when it continued, he kept going. His gaze didn't leave Sloane's. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached out for him but he sidestepped her hand. She clenched her fingers tightly and sobbed quietly but he didn’t flinch. "Jamie, please. I’m sorry. I never meant—”

“Are you in love with me?” he interrupted, his tone weary. He didn't need the confession but he asked anyway. “If you ever cared about me, tell me the truth.”

Sloane froze before she gave the slightest nod. That nod hit him hard in the gut.

"You want to hear what I feel?" He asked her and watched as she closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head. She knew he didn't love her. She couldn't bear to hear the words. But Jameson figured it out now. A hard lesson to learn but...he had to give them to her. "I love Imani. I love everything about her. I love her so much that I don't know how to live without her. She makes me want to be better. I love the way she loves Genie. I love the way she loves me. And I gave that up twice. I keep hurting her and I did it again. This time...for you. And I regret it."

The more he spoke, the more she cried. "I'm sorry I brought us to this. You can blame me for it. Not Imani. Goodbye, Sloane." He moved towards the door and she followed him. Her phone rang out loud and she hesitated, tears blurring her eyes as she turned back to the kitchen. He didn't stop moving.

As he reached for the handle, she called out, her voice breaking. “Jamie, wait—Please! Don't leave me.”

He paused but didn’t turn around. Guilt grabbed a hold of him again but he pushed it away, knowing that enabling Sloane would only hurt her further...so he opened the door and walked out. It clicked shut behind him and for a moment, he stood there, trying to catch his breath. He heard her scream, throw things across the room, and yell out for him -- but he pretended he didn't.

Jameson walked towards the elevators, the anger he had carried up with him left behind in her place. He fished his phone out of his pocket, pushing the button for the ground floor as he read each text that came through but one caught his attention: a text from EJ that contained a link to Apple Music and an article.

R&B Sensation Imani releases surprise EP, Diary

As he browsed the article, the elevator doors pinged open and an avalanche of notifications from Instagram came in. Even more than when Imani posted the picture of Christian. To make matters worse, he got a shit ton of texts from friends and acquaintances. Half of them were the fucking eye emoji.

"Shit." He muttered to himself.

[guiltyasdave]

a mouse crisis christmas

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader (x original female character)

word count: ~1.1k

summary: Before Christmas, you and Logan have an unexpected house guest.

warnings/tags: soooo much fluff, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, Logan's POV

a/n: a little christmas something from the logan x cat!reader universe! this is first and foremost a present that i wrote for @sizzlingcloudmentality because we came up with 'mouse girlie' together, i love you loads my sweet sweet friend. honestly idk if anyone else but our weird asses will even like this, but we thought kitten needed a friend, so here we are <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Something’s wrong when Logan opens the cabin’s front door, slipping off his shoes to not spread any melting snow on the wooden floors. Your own shoes are already placed on a towel, the tips still wet with the powdery coldness from outside. You rarely go outside when you don’t have to these days. Refusing even the smallest risk of getting your feet wet, your nose wrinkling at the mere suggestion. 

More alarmingly, there’s a scent in the air that he doesn’t recognize. Mixing with yours, a fragrance that he could pick out anywhere. He hears your voice, warm, quick words interlaced with laughter. The only reason he’s not already by your side, defending you against the intruder. 

He finds you in the kitchen, indeed not alone. There’s a woman, sitting on the counter, feet dangling below her. Almost drowning in one of the sweaters that you’ve knitted this winter. A new hobby, you had said. 

She’s the source of the scent, there’s no doubt in his mind. Small brownish tufts of hair frame her face, a small pointy nose and dark eyes that flick up at his footsteps. Her whole body appears to be vibrating, nervosity emanating from every pore. 

As he pieces her scent and her appearance together, the animal part of his brain provides an answer almost immediately— a mouse. 

Not dangerous at all, if he had to guess. But still, an intruder in his home. 

You step into his line of vision, and some of the tension eases from his body. It’s an involuntary reaction, one that only you can elicit from him. 

He blinks slowly, gaze trailing over your face. Foolishly, he had thought you two were the only ones with such animal-esque mutations. 

You’re wearing one of his flannels, and his fuzziest woolen socks. So your feet did get wet. 

“I found her in the barn!” you begin to explain, the warm touch of your hands finding his shoulders, soft pressure against his still raised hackles. Keeping yourself between his body and the strange woman’s. His smart girl. “She was all alone and it’s freezing out there.” 

“If you wanted a pet, you could have just told me.” An eyebrow’s arched, apprehensiveness coloring his expression. 

You scoff, slapping a hand against his chest, but your grin still sparkles on your face, like you’re in on a joke and he’s not. “She’s not a pet!” you complain, indignant. “Don’t be rude, baby.” 

The smaller woman is still perched on the wooden counter, wide-eyed, her head twitching back and forth between you both. 

You turn around to look at her, your expression so full of fondness that it almost, almost makes him smile. He reaches out instinctively, caresses the soft skin of your cheek, warmth growing in his chest when you lean into the touch. 

Taking a step closer, mouth tilting towards your ear, he can’t keep his own grin from forming on his lips. “Thought you’re supposed to eat mice,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe in that way that never fails to make you shudder. 

Your eyes widen almost comically and he chuckles before gently moving past you, towards that creature that apparently, the cat dragged in. 

“So you were just scampering around in our barn, huh?” 

The woman nods, a quick, jittery movement. She looks even smaller up close. Her eyes dart towards the front door and back to him. 

“She didn’t have anywhere else to go! It's so cold outside, Lo,” you chime in from beside his shoulder. “And it’s almost Christmas,” you add with a pout, shiny eyes pleading with him. You know damn well how he can’t deny you anything. Never could. “She can stay for a bit, right?”

“Fine.” 

-

Annoying, that’s what she is. Not the word you would use, of course not. You’re absolutely enamoured with her, almost joined to her hip these days. 

He can’t help it, it still makes Logan smile to watch you giggle with her, the way your face lights up when you look at her. He had often worried that you might feel lonely out here, that you might wish for friends. 

So this is good. Really, it is. But still. 

He’s not jealous, of course not. Just… annoyed. 

Annoyed with her tapping little steps on the wooden floors, annoyed with her squeaky little voice, annoyed with the fact that she ate all the nuts and olives stored away in the pantry, annoyed with her weird diet in general, loads of cheese, seeds and bread that you sweet talk him into buying, annoyed with her loud chewing and her obnoxiously large front teeth. 

“But isn’t she just the cutest?!” you ask, hugging his body and bumping your face against his chest, your thoughts still revolving around the woman currently sleeping in the tiny guest room. 

He grunts non committedly, reaching down to gently tickle your neck. You giggle and curl yourself tighter around him, breaking off into a long purr when he hits your favorite spot. 

Warmth grows in his chest and he tightens his arm around your shoulder. 

-

It’s Christmas Eve. Snow is swirling in the dark night behind the windows, but inside the fire is crackling, engulfing the three of you in warmth where you are huddled together underneath the tree. 

It’s a ginormous one, a pain to get through the front door, but it was the one that you and the mouse woman had wanted, so who was Logan to say no. 

Now, with a hundred lights glittering from it, starting right at the top where Logan had begrudgingly lifted the woman up on his shoulders so that she could place them under your careful supervision— he has to admit that it was worth it. 

You’re leaning against him, the lights reflecting in your eyes and a wide smile on your face. The woman’s head rests on your lap, her body curled up in front of the both of you. 

You and him usually forgo presents, content to just spend some uninterrupted time together with both of you certain that there’s nothing more you could wish for. 

But when he had spotted a jar labeled as a ‘gourmet selection of nuts and seeds’ at the specialty store, he had grabbed it without even being that bothered by the ridiculously high price. 

He was glad that he did when the woman’s face had lit up and in return, she had presented him with a self knitted scarf, a hobby that she had picked up from you. 

It’s late in the night, snow still falling silently outside, when Logan is lying in bed, two sets of calm breaths beside him, occasionally interrupted by a small purr or a sleepy squeak. 

He shakes his head, still wondering how he ended up in this situation, but he can’t be mad about it any longer. 

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are love <3

and merry christmas!

[lionwitch]

Tim Drake Edits Reality

Hear me out. Tim Drake has always loved photography, that's wildly accepted and known. But what if he has powers too?

What if whatever Tim edits into his pictures becomes the truth?

The first time it happened, Tim was just starting his photography hobby. His parents bought him a camera and he was so exited! He took a picture of his mom's Rosebush, a single rose in the entire bush, half Withered.

Tim found the picture beautiful, and he started messing with photoshop, editing the withered flower back to the bright red it used to be. He decided it looked lonely and sad, the bush dry and the rose edited to be lively but alone in the middle. So he edited the dry areas of the bush back to the lively green and more roses in it. The picture looked very different from the original, but it was beautiful. Satisfied, he saved the end result.

That afternoon, when he walked through the garden, the very same dry rosebush he photographed looked just like his edited picture: lively, with rich colors and plenty of roses.

It made no sense, but he ignored it.

He kept taking pictures and editing them, though the changes were small, like the lighting and all that. Sometimes he made small changes, and he definitely noticed them and thought it was weird, but didn't quite connect the dots. He was kind of in denial. He couldn't be a meta or anything! Right?

And then his parents left for a few months and he was lonely, but he didn't want to admit it. And at school everyone was talking about their pets, and he messed up and lied. "I just adopted a Border Collie puppy!" he lied, thinking that would be it, people would forget, he would get out of the awkward situation (why did everyone have pets?) and nothing would happen. Well turns out, everyone wanted to see his puppy.

So Tim came home and prepared his camera, in his trusted tripod to look like it had been taken by someone else, and took pictures of himself, a whole photoshoot, with his arms stretched like carrying a dog, and then sitting like he was playing with it.

He searched for a perfect Border Collie puppy, one who had a whole photoshoot just for that one, so he could be sure the pictures were coherent and no one would question them. He carefully edited them and memorized every feature of his supposed dog in case anyone asked, to keep his story straight. Once satisfied, he sent them to those who asked for pictures, and received plenty of "cute dog!" compliments. It had taken him all day, so he went to bed almost immediately after, already past midnight.

He woke up to the very same blue eyed fluffy Border Collier puppy he edited into his pictures, licking his face, the same blue harness and leash hung on his door, and even the bed and bowls he put in the background were on the corner of his room now.

He freaked out, of course, but the small pup didn't seem all that worried. And apparently he now had a puppy? Well, he's always wanted one. He named her Frankie, because her multiple colors and patterns clashed like Frankenstein's monster, like she had been made for from mismatched parts.

He loved Frankie. She was so smart! And Frankie was quite loyal and enamored by him, too. He was her whole world, and she was his heart, his companion and confidant, his best friend and ally in his too-big house.

He did decide to experiment though. He needed more research.

When a boy at school picked on him, he edited his picture bald, and that same day his father shaved his hair. He tried again with another boy who picked on Jason (Jason doesn't know Tim exists yet, but Tim keeps an eye out for him), editing his hair bright barbie pink, and this time he added a date to the corner, writing the date of a week ago, two days before the pictures for his football team were taken.

When Tim saw the football team's pictures displayed at school, the boy had pink hair in them, that he didn't yesterday. He asked around, if the pictures looked different to anyone else.

"yeah, I don't know what persuaded him to dye his hair pink before picture day and the tournament."

"I asked him two days ago, he said he lost a bet."

Two days ago. Tim's mind was reeling. He asked the boy himself when he dyed his hair, and he replied with the date Tim edited on the corner of the picture.

Did Tim just... Edit reality?

He later uses this power to his advantage on patrol, and before that while watching the Bats.

Jason is surrounded? He takes a picture and edits a few goons out of it quickly. They aren't there when he looks up.

Shit Joker escaped? He doesn't have the energy to deal with it right now. He edits tonight's date on a picture of Joker sitting peacefully in his cell and a few more guards for good measure.

His family doesn't understand why he takes a small discreet camera on patrol in his utility belt

[themyscirah]

Complaining abt Suicide Squad yet again but the fact that they have Waller exposing the alien community to space racist attacks and talking abt how she got to her position through deceit and being a terrible person and stuff is just. Ahsfiwueh JUST SAY YOU DONT KNOW WALLER.

Anyways literally the 3rd mission of the Squad ever (and the first framed as smth Waller picked and not orders from above) was the Squad discrediting and stopping a rogue vigilante who was only arresting POC and funneling white people into white supremacy groups (of which he was the most prominent member) in SUICIDE SQUAD #4. and it's explicitly framed as this mission being personal for Waller that she's hiding from the government bc its illegal like. Guys. Please why are we having her incite (space bc comics) racist attacks now

Also the whole "Amanda got her position through deceit and being a terrible person" NO. she KEPT her position through being shitty and playing complicated political games!!! She wasn't always that way like there is a difference and it is IMPORTANT ppl PLEASEEEE. In Secret Origins #14 we learn Amanda's backstory and she used to be a normal, caring person! Like even after she entered into working in government and politics she wasn't automatically morally bankrupt like please people. She was originally given control of the Squad by Reagan (*sigh* 80s comics...) to distract and get rid of her because she was so successful at pushing progressive social policy in Congress. Acting like she's this static pillar of evil is such a waste of her character and so fucking uninteresting and disrespectful to her arc it drives me MAD.

Like I am NOT saying Waller is all sunshine and rainbows, she fucking SUCKS (said w love <3) but like there's a human being there. It's a progression, she has a character arc like please, DC, please!!! They've fucked up Waller so bad and made her so opaque and uninteresting she can't even be the protagonist of her own story for fucks sake!

Like I don't know how many times I have to scream it until DC hears me or remembers but WALLER IS THE MAIN CHARACTER OF SUICIDE SQUAD. ITS HER BOOK. yet right now she's a cutout to be used as the villain wherever the writers please. Even in her book we get none of her perspective really displayed, no exploration of her thoughts with any kind of understanding of the role she traditionally has played and was made to play in the story.

[mochiiniko]

day 4: old cocole art dump because its about time i posted these 💀

essay in the tags youve been warned lmao

[tricoufamily]

a current day nils and a 90s college student nils who's way too intense about his internship walk into a bar

[ccbatman]

actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.

[wormy-worm]

ok u know what maybe if the world isn't ready for sunrazer post that means that the world IS ready for Amoveous siblings post. This is Milo and Enho and theyre my DARLINGS and i love them SO MUCH. i have. SOOOOOOOO many thoughts abt them but after the previous post massacre i do not really feel like typing all of that xoxo love <3

[orcelito]

Ok I'm thinking about kabuto backstory again and thinking about how unfair and fucked up it all is like

> be Danzo

> threaten local orphanage mother into returning to being a spy (by threatening the kids there)

> force them to send One Kid too because he "lost a man" while obtaining the intel he's threatening her to spy over (the kid is Kabuto, who volunteered bc he overheard them threatening the mother over this) (Danzo knows he overheard)

> train kabuto to be a spy while orphanage mother is off on her long spy job as well

> bait spy mom with the promise of keeping kabuto safe to keep her agreeing to work with you

> decide they both are too good at their jobs (????) Of being spies (that work for you?????)(they've been loyal this whole time????) So they're too dangerous and both need to die

> keep mom and kid away from each other as kid grows up

> literally DOCTOR FAKE PHOTOS of the kid growing up to make it seem like he looks totally different now???? So she won't recognize him?????

> give her the assassination assignment of killing the Real Kabuto (who she won't recognize) so they'll kill each other

> whoops, Kabuto survived and killed her instead, oh well at least Orochimaru's watching him now

I'm just like. How fucked up is it to threaten these people into working as spies for you "for the good of Konoha", and then decide that these people (who have given NO INDICATION of intending to betray Konoha) are too good at being spies and thus Too Dangerous and should be killed for it. But no he can't just kill them in a normal way. He had to manufacture an entire scenario so that they'd kill EACH OTHER while making the mom not recognize him (with the express purpose of breaking the kid's spirit) like BROOOOOO I know you ordered the whole Uchiha clan to be massacred (conducting genocide for the sake of 'peace') actually now that I think about it he ordered this of itachi. Ordered him to kill his own family. Of course Danzo would get off on making a mother and son kill each other "for the good of Konoha" he's almost fucking cartoon villain level of horrible past the point of logic EXCEPT there really are people this awful that have existed. Plenty of them. And they have also justified it as being "for the good of [nation]" like that's the Thing, he's a war hungry nationalist that has decided He Knows Best so he's going to fuck up SO many people's lives, up to and including his own damn citizens!!!! And this bitch thinks he deserves to be kage?!?!?! Fucking Hiruzen letting him run wild like this. He knew Danzo was stealing children and indoctrinating them into a murder cult (where, keep in mind, he purposefully raises kids in pairs so they view each other as family AND THEN ORDERS THEM TO KILL EACH OTHER)(AGAIN!!!! with the family killing, what is his PROBLEM) but Hiruzen just let it fucking happen. Spineless fucking piece of shit. He fucked Naruto up he fucked Orochimaru up he fucked up Royally with Danzo like come ONNNNNNNNNN

Rattling the bars of my cage rn at how awful Danzo is and how he was able to just. DO THIS???? I know the bitch is dead but he's not dead enough. Give me the glock.

[guinevereslancelot]

just wrapped the first christmas present of the year ❤️

[cuteniaarts]

First posted piece of 2024 featuring Ghazan’s older sister Haya, take 2!!

[tonariofjananda]

What’s she listening to?

WIP, prolly gonna line and color this in later but I like how this looks so far c:

[seilon]

genuinely it is so depressing to spend money drinking just to end up doing nothing interesting and just sitting around

[arklay]

DANI HAINES x CLAIRE REDFIELD / template.