#the suicide is implied but very much there

[emwallas176]

Episode 4x09 of Smallville was genuinely so confusing. Not only was the cold open so traumatizing but then the moral gymnastics that happens for the rest of the episode (and onward) is so confounding.

So the whole premise of the episode is that Lex sleeps around so much that he can’t even remember the names and faces of the women he sleeps with. Strange and concerning on multiple levels. Even if this was completely in character (which I don’t think it is), it is still highly concerning to forget the names and faces of people you’ve been intimate with. I think they said 13 women in the last year. While that’s not a low number, I don’t think it’s high enough to cause such forgetfulness. Therefore it almost seems to imply that there’s a level of disassociation that happens on Lex’s part during the experience (you can’t form new memories if you weren’t really paying attention when they happened). This theory is also backed up by the fact that Lex admits at the end of the episode that he has suicidal thoughts, and (very) unattached sex could be a negative coping mechanism for these dark emotions. As we can see at the start of the episode, Lex looks sad and completely alone at the event. And immediately after that he jumps into bed with someone. There’s clearly a connection there (at least in my mind).

All of the above, however, is not what confuses me. It’s the other characters that I don’t understand. First you have Clark who comes in (as seems to be becoming his pattern) guns blazing and accusatory. Of course this might be warranted seeing as Lex has been quite soundly framed for murder but I digress. During their talk and with what he finds out later, Clark gets very up in arms about Lex having sex with a lot of women. Despite whether this is right or wrong of him to do, it makes absolutely no sense for why it would drive Clark into LIONEL’S arms. Especially bc Lionel admits later on that Lex learned the behavior (sleeping with women and leaving them with a pair of diamond earrings) from Lionel himself?? Like it’s bad and dishonest if Lex does it but apparently makes Lionel trustworthy?? I’m confused. Also! Let’s not forget the fact that Lionel slept with another woman while his wife was DYING! But sure, Lex is the sexually deviant one. Sure.

Also, I feel like there is a lot of disconnect between how Lex and Alicia (in later episodes) are treated. Like Lex sleeps with women (consensually) and almost gets killed by one of them and Clark tells him that he doesn’t know if he can trust him anymore. Alicia forces Clark to marry her and almost forces him to have sex with her (read: non-consensual!) and the next episode she and Clark are dating again. Also, Lex gets framed for murder and when he’s found innocent, Clark rescues him, yes, but at the end of the day he still doesn’t trust Lex. Alicia gets framed for murder and is found innocent (and dies, unfortunately (seriously that was such a shocking death what the hell Smallville?!)) and Clark feels guilty and regretful and tells his parents he wishes he believed her sooner. Now I get that these two situations aren’t quite the same but the different reactions that Clark and the other characters have feel more like the writers playing into future roles (Lex is the villain, yada, yada) rather than actually looking at the characters as they are now.

I think I would have enjoyed the episode more if I’d understood what it was trying to say. Are you trying to say that Lex is “showing a different, darker side of himself” by not caring about the women he sleeps with? Okay then why is it okay for Lionel to do. Are you trying to say that sex in general is bad? Then why have Alicia be forgiven? Why have Lana trying to loose her virginity to Jason? In the end, the episode just left me feeling really frustrated bc I felt like there was something I was supposed to get but I just didn’t get it.

[nuzzy]

Det var en ros på graven. Det var alltid hennes favoritblomma. Fischl såg ner på texten på gravstenen. Hon försökte att inte gråta, hon märkte hur det inte funkade.

268 ord. MCD. Implied/referenced Suicide. Hurt no Comfort. Läs taggarna, eller inte. Jag är inte din mamma.

va? jag skriver någonting på svenska? omöjligt.

[creativesplat]

absolutely 100% inspired by @mr-jack-letterman's post on young Stan.

[ghost-bxrd]

Vanished?

“What are you saying?”

There’s static in Bruce’s ears, oppressive and growing louder by the second. His tongue feels numb. His hands are tingling. It feels like the moment before a hurricane is scheduled to rip him apart atom by atom; one step left from dread, course correcting.

“If you failed me like you failed him- I can understand why he would choose to go in anyways.”

“He wouldn’t.”

He wouldn’t. Jason wouldn’t have. No matter how badly Bruce screwed this up— his boy, his precious child, was always so full of life. He would have never- he would never choose—

“You’re a hypocrite, Bruce. Of course he would have. You may as well have kicked him out when you accused him of murder. Obviously, death was the kinder alternative to returning to the streets.”

No. No.

— sneak peak of “Vanished” (an upcoming fic)

[themalhambird]

The world is not real: Charlotte cannot touch it. This -news-, this tragedy  is not real either, and it cannot touch her. There’s too much cotton in her ears, there’s an endless, keening chime slowly boring through her skull- in at one temple, out at the other- a continuous line, all the way through…

She is sitting on the sofa. There’s a cup and saucer cradled in her hands. She doesn’t remember picking it up, but the steam is ghosting over her face. It’s fresh. (Her husband is dead). Polly must have given it to her. (Her husband died at his own hand.) They have a visitor, she ought to be showing more hospitality. She wonders if there’s any of that fruitcake left. (Alfred confessed to murder. Alfred confessed to murder,  and then Alfred murdered himself)

“Mama?”

Polly’s voice, soft and tentative as it is, makes her jump. Tea sloshes, spills over, pools in the delicate saucer. She shakes herself and focuses her gaze on Sir Julian. “That’s not,” she tries, but the sound barely forms. Charlotte pauses, swallows, tries again. “That’s not right,” she says, unsure if she’s really addressing Sir Julian Harker or merely facing his direction whilst trying to bargain with a Higher Power. “That’s not- none of this is right, Alfred wouldn’t- he wouldn’t do any of it, any of this…” But he has. He has, he has, he has, and when he comes home she’s going to skin him alive. “What will we do?” she asks, as the first beginnings of fear worm their way through the numbness of shock. “The disgrace of it-”

“Mama!” Polly cries, indignant. “At this moment, of all moments, your thoughts cannot be of what other people will think- what does that matter, what do any of them matter!”

It matters because they have never been reckless with money, but savings will not last forever and Charlotte doesn’t know if the widows of Police Inspectors who confess to capital offences and then take their own lives qualify for any sort of pension. It matters because the disapprobation of society in any circumstances can be death by a thousand cuts, whereas the widow who has the sympathies of her community has a better chance at maintaining a somewhat genteel situation. It matters because the infamy of the father will cast a shadow over the life and the character of the daughter- the best chance for Polly, now, is marriage, but what respectable, decent man would want a father- in- law six feet deep in unconsecrated ground?

“Mrs Hillinghead,” Sir Julian says solemnly, “I wish to assure you that you and your daughter will have the fullness of my protection. The events of the last twenty four hours- they will not reflect on you, nor on your daughter. You have my word.”

She acknowledges his words without really understanding- it will not be until much later, lying in a too-empty bed and staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep- that Charlotte will consider that Harker told Polly about Alfred’s death before he told her, that he stood as close to Polly’s chair as proprietary allows for, that he has seemed- these past few weeks- to admire Polly: her beauty, her music. And perhaps nothing will come of it but friendship- , but the friendship of a man that powerful is not an asset to be scorned. And if it turns into anything more…

They were nineteen, she and Alfred, when they married- they had been friends their whole lives before that. And she had known about him:  years before they had married, she had known that  his desires steered his eyes not towards the ranks of giggling, frivolous girls who batted their eyelashes at his well built figure and handsome face, but to other members of his own sex. And she had ignored it, because she knew him: he was too good a man to act on those desires. And he was kind, and gentle, and they were friends, and a husband who would be perfectly happy to conduct a marriage with minimal activity in the matrimonial bed suited Charlotte. She had courted him as much as he had courted her, really, although whether he ever realised that…

And he’s dead. Her best friend of nearly forty years. The murder confession, she has already written off- she neither knows nor cares about the details. If it was a false confession, then he confessed to try and protect someone- probably that journalist, given the confession it prompted to her, and she is furious at him. She is furious at him for not protecting his wife and child, and for not letting the journalist face whatever justice he merited- unless, of course, the man threatened to reveal Alfred’s inclinations, and take the Inspector who had detected his crimes down along with him. That seems, to Charlotte, the most likely explanation. And if the confession is- was- true, then Alfred must have had good reason for taking another man’s life: she has seen him carry spiders in the palm of his hand to release them outside, rather than squash them underfoot; she has listened to him vent his frustrations about officers being too heavy handed with their arrests at more dinners than she can remember. Taking another human life…it must have broken something in his mind, which would explain being in such a state that he would…. It does not matter. Alfred is dead, either way- she is a widow, either way. And she will encourage Julian Harker’s friendship, because if Polly can catch him she will have a comfortable home, and a husband who seems a good hearted and generous man. And she, Charlotte, will grieve Alfred Hillinghead. But if his death unravels into the scandal she fears, then she will take care to grieve him quietly. She will survive this. She has to. She has to survive this so that there’s someone who remembers that Alfred Hillinghead played cricket as a boy and took two sugars in his tea.

[thedrotter]

as a little treat i am sharing with you little Aya doodles I've done over the last few days to unwind ww just little expressions based on lines in-game because those are always fun to draw. nothing too special just biscuit

it's Aya because upon doing bizarrely throughout playthroughs of the game for still unspecified project purposes I've gained a soft spot for her she's my daughter now my mental tier list on my favorite characters is so confusing right now

[epic-the-musical-confessions]

my epic hot take is that if calypso did not love ody in some way he would probably be dead cuz depression. if calypso was "sorry you cant leave this island, ever, not my fault, gods said so" and then fucked off to the sunset to be polite but distant neighbor our boi would probably jump. i would have.

i am not touching any other stuff about her – just saying he would be dead

.

[snorpdawg]

a place where you go to be forgotten.

[briar--rising]

My mom stopped doing therapy a few years ago and I wish that she hadn’t. I mean, a therapist isn’t going to help the fundamental issues, esp not at this point. Heck she was in therapy throughout my entire childhood and it’s not like that made her not abuse me. But her dad just died and she’s having lots of feelings about it and if she took those feelings to a therapist instead of me that would be great. But she flat out refuses every time my dad or I bring it up.

[pochapal]

oh ok so genji's just straight up confirming these deranged things as truth. got it.

[treemice]

I know teen girls are stereotyped to self diagnose with all kinds of personality disorders ("OMG I'm so bipolar" kind of vibe) but do they actually do that? And when they do do they actually believe that they have it? I'm asking this AS a teen kind-of-girl

Because on one hand if they actually believe it I'd understand because idk estrogen makes me gen feel like I'm going fucking insane sometimes. I'm not really a mentally healthy person, I'm prone to depressive episodes and I've been passively suicidal for most of my life, I've had OCD since I was like 7 and I've struggled with SH, so maybe it's just my autism brain thinking that everyone's being literal about that. But idk I've felt like... like a danger to myself before just on the basis of "I'm not normally in this good of a mood, my blood feels like it's dancing, if I jumped off the school balcony i bet I'd survive" and while I know that that's not true and I'd DIE i feel like i have 2 brains, the irrational emotional one, and the logical "you will die don't be a dumbass"/"you're being paranoid relax" one. And when I'm feeling irrational I get scared because I dont feel like i can trust myself to not do something dangerous.

But on the other if they don't mean it its caused me to think a lot of "phases" is normal. Like I was actively suicidal when I was 12 and when i watched a movie about a 12 year old girl that was depressed and a doctor said "being 12 is just one of those ages" I assumed it meant that being suicidal was a normal part of growing up and it'd go away in time.

[mayoiayasep]

thought about milgram and got miserable over haruka and muu again

[hum--hallelujah]

Atavan Halen is a really good song and kind of darkly fun but also the second verse literally makes me feel like I'm going to throw up

[dark-elf-writes]

Ohhhh please Izuku 😬 and Todoroki 💝?

Please and thank you 🙏 I do love your head anons so much

Send in a character or characters and an icon and I’ll give you…

😬 A headcanon about the worst thing they’ve done

Izuku doesn’t like to think about his Middle School years very much. Understandably, really, because of how terrible they were.

The worst was actually in his first year, not his third, surprisingly enough. In his first year some of the older students had scented him out like sharks smelling blood and had made it their mission to put him in his place. Kacchan had always been bad, of course, but the group of boys that followed him home after school making him run and duck down alleyways to make sure they passed, crouching behind dumpsters and stained cardboard boxes until he was sure they were gone, were worse.

They were the first group to leave a spider lily on his desk. Blood red and obscene in its beauty when compared to what it stood for.

And Izuku was tired of running. Tired of hiding.

So he stayed in the alley that night. And the next. And the next. He didn’t go to school. He didn’t go home. He didn’t come out when he heard the boys pass the alleyway calling his name with desperation coating their voices.

He came back after a full week to his mom’s hysterical sobs and the boys never bothered him again. Other kids left the flowers, hissed words at him as he walked through the halls, hurt him with burning hands and cruel smiles, but those three wouldn’t so much as look at him without remembering that horrible week where they thought that he wasn’t coming back and it was all their fault.

💝 A headcanon about their love language

For a long time, Shouto didn’t know he had a love language. He was never allowed to build relationships, even with the people that lived in his own house, and what relationships he did see were… complicated at best. It wasn’t until after the Sports Festival and seeing his mom and again and befriending Izuku that he he had even heard the term love language.

(It had been from Ochako who had shrugged when Shouto had asked why Izuku poured so much of himself into analyzing their quirks despite the pile of homework untouched on his desk and the bags under his eyes. “It’s how he shows he cares. Like a love language, you know?”

He didn’t.)

After he learns about it he starts to see it more, in how Fuyumi fusses over him when he goes home, piling just a little more food on his plate before asking how he’s managing his homework, in Natsuo who is full of playful smiles and gentle hair ruffles (forever mindful to come in from his right side not his left as people’s hands near his scar still made him jumpy after all these years), in Tsu’s insistence on covering his lap with a blanket whenever they all settled down for a movie night, and in Tenya’s strict adherence to rules and protocols to make sure none of them got hurt.

He notices it in himself too, in the way he rests his head on Fuyumi’s shoulder while she cleans the dishes in a way that’s not quite a hug but not quite not a hug, in the way he nudges an ankle against Natsuo’s when they simians site by side, in the way he keeps his left side to Tsu when she settles in with him, and the way he lets the fingers of his right hand be captured by Tenya to be pressed against his temple whenever the other boy has a headache.

Touch and affection isn’t something he ever thought he would be comfortable with, but his friends and family don’t seem to mind that he doesn’t, can’t, hug them more often than not. They understand how he shows his love either way.

[mosspapi]

The worst part about no longer actively wanting to die is the sudden, debilitating fear of death. Like... hey universe I would prefer to have Neither, please and thanks?

[daz4i]

when ww said "this is not my life, I'm no survivor, i only happened to survive"