#open book asks

[ask-mystery-shack-cipher]

[clinicallyinsanedumpsterrabbit]

So I may have got The Book of Bill and it has me in a slight tiny itty bit of a death grip hyperfixation where all I've been able to imagine is his pathetic toxic ex ass

This pathetic triangle has once again parasitically wormed his way into my brain after years of absence

Also he totally would try and gaslight Ford and say he probably just lost the shirt when he stole it if ever asked where the shirt went

Ok so I could've put a ton of things in that last, panel, so I did, with some joke suggestive ones as the last two below the cut

I'm going to explode him with stock video explosions a bajillion times over

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR SQQ HE LOOKS SO FUCKINH DONE WITH LIFE

The recipe for SQQ is: calm on the outside, screaming on the inside.

[apollos-polls]

Anon requested this to be posted without the ask!

[aroaceleovaldez]

What is the PR disaster in question that made Rick announce TSATS? I wasn’t active in the online fandom at that point

Of course! This was awhile ago so it figures people don't remember it/aren't familiar:

Basically a couple years back (2020) the fandom had some posts circulate discussing the ways different characters in the Riordanverse were written poorly or offensively. There was a masterpost that went around tumblr but the two major points people were particularly focusing on were Piper and Samirah (particularly because Piper had featured prominently again in Trials of Apollo recently and the third MCGA book had further emphasized and discussed Samirah being Muslim, since it was supposed to take place during Ramadan). Basically each had multiple posts breaking down the ways they were depicted incorrectly or offensively. The entire fandom for a little bit was VERY intensely discussing this (and it's around this time the "RR crit" tag got very popularized on tumblr - it did exist before, but suddenly was being used VERY frequently - cause it was that wide-spread - though the discussion took over basically every side of Riordaverse social media on different platforms). People really wanted Rick to respond to these criticisms, so he did!

He made two blog posts, one about Piper and one about Samirah. He has since deleted both so the links are to archived versions. The short version: he essentially tried to justify his poor research and double-down that he hadn't written them offensively, actually, people were just being mean to him. The fandom, of course, reacted poorly to this.

[Further elaborated events under the cut since this got a bit lengthy]

(Fun fact, this all happened within a month or so of the time i posted an open letter on aphobic tropes in the Riordanverse that Rick replied to, and then he immediately followed with announcing that Reyna was intended to be ace-coded [which cause a LOT of fandom debate] before Rick dipped for a couple of weeks, and then came back to post the blog posts in response to Piper and Sam stuff. So I like to jokingly refer to this as "The time I imploded the fandom/drove Rick off of twitter." Twas I that set the house ablaze.)

Rick fully left social media after this and the LT Musical social media manager became Rick's social media manager for the time being.

So this all happened June/July of 2020. Tower of Nero would end up being published in October of 2020 and a few months after that Rick would state that he was done with the series and wouldn't be writing any more series installments involving Percy, and also that he wouldn't be writing a Nico quest following Tower of Nero as it "wasn't his place to" and encouraged the community to write their own versions of Nico's story.

The community continued to circulate the tumblr posts and discuss the topics of Rick's offensive character depictions, and this is also where we see the dramatic shift in how the fandom depicts Piper in fanwork (though in most cases it is admittedly not an improvement 😬) because of all this discussion. This is also around the time when the fandom brought Viria under scrutiny claiming that she was whitewashing Piper as part of the same discussions, through the justification that she was drawing Annabeth as having tan skin (which she does canonically), and if Annabeth has tanner skin then Piper then that's whitewashing Piper? Except they were using completely separate images of not fully rendered Piper art versus Annabeth in dramatic lighting, so it's all very awkward and poor logic, and did actually get kind of racist. A lot of people were calling it "Tannabeth Blackchase" (yeah, i know) or similar and a common sentiment you'd see repeated is "Don't draw Annabeth as having darker skin than Piper, because that's offensive/racist/whitewashing." (Note: it was not phrased "don't draw Piper as having lighter skin than Annabeth" - we also won't get into certain offensive depictions of Native Americans, but I digress). But yeah, the Annabeth stuff in all that did not age well at all.

Anyways, in October of 2021 however Rick would announce that he was co-writing The Sun And The Star - with a lot of heavy emphasis on how Mark Oshiro works as a sensitivity reader, and some false advertising from the official social media that Mark Oshiro was the first time a non-Riordan author would be collaborating on the series (disregarding the ghostwriters completely). One of the big criticisms in the breaking down of issues in Rick's writing was his lack of ever seeking a sensitivity reader, and fans claiming that a sensitivity reader could solve a lot of the problems. This was basically Rick's "look! I totally listened!!!!" (though it did little to actually improve things, based on the book) and in TSATS as well Piper gets a large cameo at the end where the text very directly addresses a lot of points made in criticism of Rick's writing of her.

We also then of course got the CoTG trilogy later, explicitly stated to be for advertising purposes for the show.

So basically, short version: Rick came under scrutiny for a lot of offensive writing within the span of two months, made some bad blog posts doubling down about it, left social media. TOA ends. Rick says he wasn't going to continue the series/write what would become TSATS. Community celebrates the end of of the franchise but also continues to discuss Rick's poor writing and the blog posts at length. Rick suddenly announces TSATS and Mark Oshiro's involvement. Everybody gets distracted from being mad. Show announcement stuff also happens and the discussions peter out.

[crippled-peeper]

shameless e-begging post because I’m drowning. I overdrafted my checking account because I had to buy food & take my cat to the vet, I have to buy prescriptions soon I won’t be able to, and I have to get to physical therapy somehow tomorrow.

I could really use help right now. I’m in year 3 of trying to get on SSDI, and not only is my spine *destroyed*, I’m also bipolar (medicated), have severe chronic pain, and I’m healing from PTSD. I’m alone and I don’t know many people here (I fled abuse across the country). please share this if you can ✨🖤✨

for brevity: my Pa/ypal is @mhickey3 , my ven/mo is @morgen-hickey and cashapp is $MorgenHickey

[theauthor-of-the-journals]

Hey baby are you looking for a new muse? wink wink wink blink wink

Am I- no. Heavens no. I am not looking for anything similar to the relationship I had with Bill.

The internet has taught me that we had an extremely toxic relationship and I do not want to deal with that again.

And even if I were to agree, which I’m not, you sent in an anonymous ask which defeats the purpose.

What a minute…

This is Bill isn’t it? I fell for another one of your tricks but this time I caught it.

Very funny but no. I’m not sure who gave you a phone in the theraprism but I think it would be smart for them to take that away from you.

[dimonds456]

Okay but if Bill actually did steal Ford's eyes, do you know what that would mean??

Cuz the ONLY thing keeping Bill out of the basement- thus away from the portal- were retinal scanners, which would only work if Ford was himself. If his eyes were slits (thus Bill was possessing him) the door would not open.

So that's genius, right? Boom. Now even if Bill possesses Ford, Bill will never get into the basement! Hah!

But uhh. If the Eye Stealer takes Ford's eyes, that isn't a problem anymore, is it? Cuz they could just use those eyes, which would be stuck with Ford's original retinas, and open the door THAT way

And what would Ford have been able to do to stop them? Even IF he had sight, his body was so broken and battered and tired by that point that if he went up against a monster, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Not only that, but if Ford were to get possessed again, no one would be able to tell. Ignoring the behavioral differences, from a visual aspect, they look EXACTLY the same. The ONE TELL that Bill is possessing someone is just GONE.

The only thing Bill would loose in this situation is sight himself, IF he ever possessed Ford again. But that'd probably be worth it considered there is NOTHING BUT GAINS otherwise. That, and he wouldn't have much of a reason to anymore aside from psychological torture to either Ford himself or the people around him.

Like. That's terrifying.

No wonder Ford was so goddamn afraid. If the Eye Stealer was successful, there would be no way to stop Bill. That, and Ford would be blinded for life, and possibly killed, because there's no way Bill would treat his injuries after that, right?

He wasn't just backed into a corner here; he was actively being pushed into it.

[sissa-arrows]

Arabs are not native to North Africa, that's like saying white people are native to South America or South America. They're all there because of colonialism.

Except there’s tons of studies proving that the “Arabs” of North Africa are not descendants of Arabs but Arabized natives.

Very few Arab tribes settled in North Africa and the process of arabization was way more cultural than demographic. For example in a 2017 study that used Tunisia to represent North Africa they concluded that we were 88% North Africans/Imazighen, 2% from Western and Central Africa, 4% Arabs and 5% Europeans.

So Arabs as a whole are not native to North Africa but the people living there and calling themselves “Arabs” are native not colonizers.

You can totally condemn the arabization but claiming that Arabized natives are colonizers is stupid.

Lastly as I always say as an Algerian our grandparents fought for a FREE ALGERIA. For an ALGERIAN ALGERIA. They didn’t fight for an Arab Algeria or an Amazigh Algeria. So I don’t give a flying fuck if people are Arabized or not. We’re Algerians that’s it.

[greensapphic]

Since your ask box is open for reqs may I have some of your freak?

Drinking tea or playing chess (w ford) if possible :]

SOME BILL AND FORD DOODLES COMING RIGHT UP ‼️‼️

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3

Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.

This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.

Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask. 

The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.

“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.

“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.

“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.

Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.

Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out. 

Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.

Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.

“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work. 

He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.

Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.

The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car. 

If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable. 

No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them. 

Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house. 

[barrackspredator]

Run for Your Life

Bowers Gang x Reader

Summary: fem!reader is being hunted down after discovering who’s been making the kids in town go missing

TW: Murder, blood, implied rape, violence, weapons, death, some small gore I suck at writing. Don't expect this to be amazing. note: as I finish writing this I realize how much I despise dark themes. oh well, I already wrote it. Also, yeah the title is stupid. It's okay.

“: ̗̀➛did you really think we would just let you off the hook so easily?‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ”

Seeing them shove that body into the quarry was the beginning of the end.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been if you had simply made a break for it as soon as you saw it, but how could you? Seeing the mutilated body of Chase Foreman was quite the sight to see, a sight so mesmerizing that your feet had cemented themselves to the ground. Any will to run or scream was paralyzed as your mind screamed at you to escape.

It was only after Belch Huggins had thrown Chase’s body off the edge of the cliff that you found the strength to turn around. But when you did, you were immediately slammed to the ground by Patrick Hockstetter’s hard chest.

"Didn't your parents teach you it's rude to spy?"

Patrick's sarcastic, shrill laughter of joy rang through your ears as he kneeled down beside your body, his knee pressing between your thighs. A large rotting Cheshire grin was on display before your very eyes, the smell of cigarettes assaulting your senses.

Your mouth opened pathetically, ready to sputter out any excuse to spare your life as tears threatened to spill out. Patrick, however, wordlessly put his fingers to your lips, softly shushing you in an oddly soothing way—as soothing as someone like him could sound.

"Don't fret, little bitch. I'll make sure to finish you off quickly. But what's the harm in a little fun?"

His dimly lit face turned up, looking behind her. The moonlight revealed the dirt and blood smeared across his face, casting a sinister glow on the deranged psychopath. Panicked footsteps crunched against dirt and gravel. A shadow came over Patrick and his grin vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Just make this quick, Hockstetter." It was Belch Huggins' worried voice coming from behind her. The crunching of dirt and gravel signaled a third presence.

"What's the fun in making this one quick?" Victor Criss mused as he knelt down behind you. He leaned over your shoulder before abruptly gripping your neck, pulling you back into his chest as he observed your face. A choked sob escaped your lips as you gasped for air, while his fingers tightened around you. "She's a looker. Got a pretty mouth too..." Victor trailed off, his tone filled with dark intent. Another shrill giggle came from Patrick as he climbed on top of your body, watching your eyes roll back into your skull.

"I like the way you're thinking, Vic." Patrick suddenly tore Victor's hand off of you, making the blonde grunt in irritation "But if I'm gonna fuck her, I want her to be awake." He looked down at you with that same grin, grabbing your jaw as you pathetically gasped for air. "Isn't that right, little bitch? You better look me in my eyes when I'm inside you."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Henry stood over the boys, watching with disinterest as Patrick eye-fucked the witness to their crime.

"Yeah, yeah." Patrick brushed off Henry's comment. "You're one to talk, Bowers. All high mighty 'cause you never stick it into our girls, huh?"

Henry's eyes trained on Patrick as his nostrils flared. His hands jutted out, lifting Patrick off of you by his collar. "Don't fucking talk to me that way, you goddamn pervert. One more word and I'm making you the next kid on a poster."

Patrick only grinned at Henry's empty threats. "You wouldn't dare get your pretty little hands dirty. That's my job." He had made it a point to get in Henry's face, enjoying how Henry's eyebrow would twitch in irritation. If there was one thing Patrick was good at, it was getting under Henry's skin. His comments had challenged Henry's masculinity, and for this crime, Patrick would pay the price.

It had all happened in mere seconds. Patrick’s body was slammed down, his head violently bouncing off the ground before hitting cold earth. Gasping sharply, he tried to recover the breath Henry had knocked out of him. Henry loomed over Patrick, straddling him with clenched fists. Patrick’s defiant laughter rang in the tense silence, his breath ragged as he laughed at Henry’s pathetic attempt.

Without hesitation, Belch lunged forward, ripping Henry off, while Victor rushed to Patrick’s side. Despite their lack of genuine concern for each other, the gang all understood their unspoken rule: no turning on each other.

Henry kicked and flailed like an enraged toddler as Belch manhandled him. "Get off of me! I ain't gonna hurt 'em!" He shouted, shoving Belch away and kicking dirt in Patrick's direction. The dirt hit Victor in the face, causing the blonde to sputter, spitting out any dirt that got into his mouth.

"What the fuck?" Victor complained, wiping his mouth repeatedly. The blood on his long-sleeve had now smeared across his lips, a stark contrast between his pale skin and the crimson streaks. Henry's rage had moved from Patrick to Victor, sneering at the smaller blonde.

On that cold earth, you laid there motionless, watching the boys through your peripherals. You felt a strange sense of joy when Patrick was thrown to the floor, and an even greater relief washed over you when the boys left you behind to break up the cat-fight. Your body was flooded with fear and adrenaline, and your mind went into overdrive, thrust into a survival mode you had never felt before.

Without a second thought, you pushed yourself off the ground, sprinting into the woods surrounding the quarry. Your absence hadn't gone unnoticed, and as soon as you made it into the woods, shouting ensued. Twigs and leaves crunched under your feet, drowning out the sounds of the boys chasing after you.

The boys you had known since childhood—whom you watched grow up as you went from playing with toys together to wanting to play together—were now hounding you like rabid wolves.

As you ran, a gunshot went off. You flinched violently, causing the bullet to only graze your flesh. Instinctively, your hand shot up to grasp your barely bleeding cheek in shock. "What the fuck!?" you screamed, your legs pumping faster.

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed the distance in between you and the boys widened, giving you the advantage momentarily. Ducking under thick foliage, you followed a mini trail that would lead you to the barrens. With limited light, you ran blindly through dense woods. Branches and logs snapped against your face, pulling at your clothes, and threatening to trip you as you raced forward.

The shouting continued to follow you, except now it had split. Wicked voices bellowed at you from the surrounding trees, and with the dim light you could hardly tell what was coming from where. Your head tilted up, trying to gauge the sky from the trees, but it was entirely pitch black aside from the twinkling of stars and a melancholy moon.

"I'm coming to get you, little bitch!"

This time the voice was right beside you. Whipping your head to the right, you saw Patrick Hockstetter running, a wild grin on his face as he tried to swoop in closer, weaving through trees to get on your path. You swerved to the left, only to be greeted once more.

"You can't run forever, slut!"

It was Victor Criss this time, his baggy clothing whipping through the wind as he grasped a knife tightly in his right hand. He was weaving in towards you, both boys working together to trap you in between them. Your legs were aching and sweat drenched every inch of your body, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

Victor swiped his knife at you, nicking you in the stomach. A gut-wrenching scream followed as you felt the blade run across your tender flesh. Your hand immediately pressed itself against the bleeding wound, trying to stem the flow. Patrick's laughter drowned out your screams, his voice filled with eagerness as he closed in on you. His arms reached out, desperately trying to latch on.

“Fucking grab her already!” Henry’s voice roared from behind Patrick, filled with a frenzied intensity. His eyes locked onto you like a mad bull. He drew the pistol from his belt, aiming it in your direction. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, your cramping legs pushed harder, desperately propelling you forward.

The bullet darted out, intent on killing. You instinctively shut your eyes but it never came. Victor's body collapsed on your left, abandoned as the group continued the chase.

"Fuck!" Belch wailed, maneuvering past Victor's corpse.

"Nice aim, moron!" Patrick taunted Henry with another shrill giggle. Henry only roared out in frustration. Your eyes were wide, body racked with fear and oddly enough, guilt. But you kept on going anyway, better Victor than you.

With ringing ears, you weaved through dense foliage and never-ending trees, feeling as though you were in a relentless loop. The constant barrage of Patrick’s taunts and Henry’s angry roars only added to your despair. You wanted to give up. To just collapse like Victor had on the cold earth and rest. God, death just seemed so tempting.

Something you feared for years suddenly seemed so desirable. And wrapped up in these thoughts of sweet death, you had hardly taken notice that Belch Huggins had swung his axe at you, lodging itself into your shoulder blade.

"Fuck!" You bellowed as the blade was pulled back. Your left arm dangled pathetically, blood oozing out as tendons strung your arm to your body. Immense pain took over and you collapsed, screaming as you cradled your arm.

The three boys stalked towards you, watching you intensely. Your sobs echoed through the trees, birds scattering out of trees hearing your screams of agony.

"Fuck, just kill me already!" You pleaded, tears streaming down your face. Belch solemnly crouched down beside you, a look of guilt on his face.

"Don’t take this personally…" he mumbled, glancing down at your bloody arm. Your eyes locked onto his, and you whimpered softly. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but remember Belch’s kindness from long ago—how he had always been a big sweetheart, even back in kindergarten when you’d share a nap blanket. What happened to that kind soul?

Your eyes lowered to your arm, bile creeping up your throat until you couldn't help but pathetically keel over and vomit. Henry scowled, letting out an annoyed scoff while he panted heavily.

"Good going, tubby." Patrick sneered at Belch. "I can't enjoy her rockin' body when her arm is all fucked up. That's why we wait to cut them up after I've already dumped my load." The psychopath scoffed at this inconvenience, disregarding your dying body as just another dumpsite.

"Shut the fuck up," Belch mumbled, shooting a glare at Patrick. His attention moved back towards you, noticing how you were starting to fade away. He removed his flannel, gingerly put it over your body. He especially was trying to cover your arm. "I really didn't mean for this to happen," he whispered as he covered you.

Henry scoffed, "Don't tell me you're sweet on a dying girl."

Patrick snickered, nudging Belch. "The guilt getting you again, big guy?" His taunting laughter filled your ears.

Your eyes slowly rolled up to stare at the burly axe-wielding bully. With a small scoff, you groaned softly again. "Just fucking kill me..."

"If it's what you want," Henry grumbled, beyond annoyed that he had to run for so long. "Fuck, that's what we've been trying to do this entire time. Dumb bitch." He cocked his gun, aiming it at your head.

"Any last words?" Patrick cooed, his eyes glinting with a twisted excitement. His gaze darted back and forth between you and the gun, a dark smile stretching across his face. The anticipation in his voice was almost palpable.

You forced a sneer, even as your vision blurred to white.

"Yeah, fuck you," you rasped, your voice trembling.

The gunshot rang out, its echo a brutal punctuation to the silence that followed.

[kwillow]

This thought kept occuring to me but I finally realized that Theo reminds me a bit of Stuart Ullman from The Shining (the novel version)

Stuart Ullman (novel version) is not a character one would usually think to make a reference towards and I love you for that. I completely see your vision from this first paragraph.

This too. Theo IS a bit of a bastard. Thank god he's a broke hermit NEET so he doesn't have any employees who have to deal with him.

[leonardoeatscarrots]

I love the way you drww bill

He's so expressive??

Could you draw him and ford maybe?

This may have taken me all day... but I was planning to draw them anyway, haha!

Liking and reblogging helps me a ton!

Do not repost.

Static image under the cut

[praisetheaxolotl]

Speculating on what mental illnesses Bill has is fun and all but I'm on my hands and knees begging you guys to NOT get all your info on sociopaths from Hollywood and maybe check out the actuallyaspd tag while you're at it. Hands and knees, guys. Speculation is fun but when you use real-world stereotypes that actually hurt real mentally ill people to do it then it becomes phenominally less fun for those mentally ill people, some of whom may actually exist and be regular guys in fandom and have to see the shit you're saying about them. Allegedly.

[valhallavalgrace]

How have your interactions with your floormates been? Do any of them seem particularly friendly?

I think this might be your guy to talk to, Leo, just a hunch...

prev ask