#there is a reason why there is a saying about how a good cop is an ex-cop or a dead cop

[sideeve]

indulge with me in this . please .

(this has been an idea i’ve have from 7 years old)

your fist meets the skin of one of the thug you were apprehending. the beeping from your cowl’s intercom sounds. “batgirl, speak.”

“batgirl. i need you in Gotham.” bruce says. he sounds like hens desperately demanding for assistance. “kinda busy here, B.” you kick the hump of the thugs throat, giving you time to knock them out. “this is serious. scarecrow is threatening to cover all of gotham in fear toxin.”

all of gotham? what about your mom and dad? your friends. “has GCPD taken any action?” you call for your batmobile, quickly hopping in.

“the city has evacuated. it’s all scum on the streets.” you let out a relieved sigh. “good.” you rev the engine, driving to gotham.

the clock tower is silent. only whirs from the electric work around you. “Babs?” you call out. “here.” she rolls her wheelchair backwards, waving you over to where she is. standing beside her, you speak first. “so? what did i miss?”

she sighs, pulling up an interactive fear toxin image. “bruce took out a militiaman with a fear toxin injector. this formula is strong. imagine the fallout if he goes through with this.” her tone becomes paranoid, her mouth spewing worries. “don’t worry, babs.” you put your hand on her shoulder. “we got this.”

“batgirl. we have a lead to where Scarecrow is making the toxin. meet me at ACE Chemicals.” the hologram of Bruce disappears on your wrist. “great.” you huff. “you call me if you find anything.” you tell babs before leaving the clock tower, driving to ACE Chem.

your batmobile slides next to Batman’s as you eject out, landing next to the caped crusader himself. “Scarecrow’s in there.” he nods his head towards ACE Chemicals.

before you could respond, a helicopter rises from the broken bridge you stood on. a masked man was behind it. his attire was similar to the Batman’s. but more military styled and red.

“time to die, Batman.” then, the helicopter lets its mini gun spread bullets. both you and Batman jump behind the GCPD cop cars along with the other police officers, waiting for it to end.

“friend of yours?” Commissioner Gordon asks Batman. “stay here. i’ll find out.”

“any idea why he only wanted to kill you?” he doesn’t respond but grapples his way up to a ledge, you following after.

after locating the remaining hostages, you drive your way over to one before the dumb militia decide to have fun.

as you untie the poor hostage, a smoke bomb is thrown down in front the room in front of you. “formation!” the militia get into position, aiming their rifles at you, ready to shoot at you through the glass if needed.

suddenly, the Arkham Knight repels down a rope, chuckling as he walks up to the glass. “oh how i waited for this moment.” he takes a deep breath. “don’t shoot. she’s not a threat.”

“believe that if you want.” you spit.

he laughs, “still a firecracker, i see.” he puts his hand on the glass, waiting for you to meet his. “you’ll see reason, soon. you’re just blinded by that caped idiot.

ah? ah? any takers?!? i know it was ass but i was speeding through it.

request forum.

[innytoes]

The call came in just as he was sticking more photos to his board. He was so close to cracking this case, he just needed a little more evidence. Maybe find a source willing to talk to him. Either willingly or unwittingly, at this point he didn’t even care. He wouldn’t reveal his sources anyway, and if he could just figure out where to find something damning…

“Boldheart,” he said into the phone, attention still mostly on the board. Maybe it needed some string. Or at the very least some of those flames Nimona had drawn and cut out for him to add.

“Mister Boldheart, this is Principal Conroy from Gloreth Elementary School.”

Oh no.

He didn’t quite manage to keep in his sigh.

“What happened this time?” he asked. He refused to say ‘what did she do now’, if only because Nimona usually had a reason for whatever chaos she wrought. Like trying to free the pet gerbil from ‘his stinky, tiny prison’ or punching a kid who made fun of her because ‘you couldn’t even get two normal foster parents, you ended up with two foster dads’.

Of course the school hadn’t done anything about the other kid. He was a legacy at the private school, and he’d ‘just been stating facts, after all’.

“It appears Nimona bit another child.”

Well, that was new.

“What did the other kid do?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a straight answer until he talked to Nimona.

“Mister Boldheart, this school has a zero tolerance policy,” the principal started, and he pulled the phone away from his ear, mouthing along the words mockingly has he got his keys.

Part-way through her little rant, he cut her off. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone before she could answer.

Nimona was sitting in what Ballister was coming to think of as ‘her’ chair. The one furthest away from the principal’s door. Her face was like thunder, arms crossed in front of her defensively. But it eased a little when she saw who was picking her up.

As much as he and Ambrosius tried the old Good Cop, Bad Cop routine, Nimona had very quickly learned they were both complete pushovers. And that while Ballister could be stern when it mattered, he wasn’t about to punish her for no reason. He’d always hear her out, and he’d always explain why a rule was a rule and why it shouldn’t be broken. (Or when it could be, under certain circumstances.)

Also, he was fifty per cent more likely than Ambrosius to take her out for ice-cream when she got suspended for no reason, again.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down in front of them.

“Chad wouldn’t stop trying to poke me,” Nimona said. “I told him to keep his hands to himself or I’d bite him. It’s not my fault he didn’t believe me.”

“I never touched her!” Chad shouted from the other side of the hall. His hand was bandaged rather dramatically all the way down to his elbow. “I even said ‘I’m not touching you!’”

Ah. Ballister knew that game all too well from his own time at Gloreth Elementary. Being the scholarship kid had made him an easy target.  

“Come on,” he said, putting his hand on Nimona’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t you need to talk to the Principal first?” they asked.

He did, but he really didn’t want to. Instead, he looked at the ancient secretary, who’d always had a bit of a soft spot for him when he went to this school. “How long is she suspended?”

“Just the rest of the week,” the secretary answered. It was Wednesday, so not too bad. “The Principal wants to have a serious talk with you, though.”

Ballister knew exactly what talk she wanted to have. It was the same one she’d had when they enrolled Nimona, suggesting that Gloreth Elementary had a rather rigorous curriculum, and perhaps ‘someone like Nimona’ would be better suited for a ‘less demanding environment’.

Another thing he remembered all too well from his own time at this private school.

Never mind that Nimona’s grades were at the top ten per cent of her class. Well, when she remembered to hand in her homework. And it was legible between the drawings of sharks and dragons and who knew what else. But still, it wasn’t the curriculum that was bothering her.

“I’ll send Ambrosius by tomorrow morning, after his shift,” Ballister said. Because suddenly, when The Golden Boy Legacy Kid himself stopped by it was much harder to say no, or that their kid didn’t belong here.

They walked out of the school, Nimona’s fuzzy pink book bag hanging from his good shoulder, her hand clutching the wrist of his prosthetic arm. They were already too far down the hall to hear the Principal call them back, and Ballister knew she was too dignified to run after them.

“Look, I get it,” he said once they were outside, because he really, really did. “But you can’t go around biting people.”

“Why not? He deserved it,” Nimona said, sulkily kicking at a pebble.

“Because you don’t know where his hand’s been, it’s gross.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best argument for not biting people, but it was one that was probably most effective for this particular kid. He and Ambrosius could sit her down and explain why biting people was morally wrong some other time.

Nimona was silent for a moment, before sticking out their tongue and running her own hands over it. “Blergh, you’re right!”

See? Effective parenting.

“How do you feel about milkshakes and a stake out?” he asked.

“A stake out?” The hunched shoulders and frown disappeared, replaced by a bounce and a bright, sharp smile. “Who’re we taking down?”

“Nobody just yet,” he said. “But I could use a sidekick following one of VerdAgra’s employees.”

“Yes, boss!” Nimona cheered, all but throwing herself into the passenger’s seat. “Can I have a chocolate-peanut butter-caramel milkshake?”

“Sure thing,” he said, even though that sounded like a lot. Nimona beamed and rummaged in the dashboard console to find their Stake Out Sunglasses, handing him his own. Because you couldn’t do a stake out without them, of course.

Tonight, he’d have a talk with Ambrosius about how maybe Gloreth Elementary and Gloreth Prep weren’t the best place for Nimona. Not because she couldn’t handle the curriculum, but because the school had no interest in stopping the bullying of anyone they deemed lesser. He didn’t want her to suffer the way he had. Sure, he’d gotten into a great university at the end, but had it really been worth it?

Maybe homeschooling was an option. Or another school. Anywhere that didn’t try to crush his kid’s amazing spirit, natural curiosity, and sense of self.

“Can I tase him if he tries to run?”

“No!”

[flowerspeakz]

Lmao I remember seeing images of vi as a pitfighter and thinking "noo spoilers 😭" (I didn't want to know ANYTHING about season 2 before watching it--get the best experience, yk?).

But like,,, Vi's pitfighter phase was so insignificant? Like actually so brushed over? I totally forgot about it because it had one stupid montage and that's it.

Why did she even become a pitfighter? Ik that it's her coping with her life falling apart, by why pitfighting? And also where's the pitfighting happening? And why is that vander replacement there? What??? Can they not like continue the insane worldbuilding they had from before please?

ffs I'm tired of people claiming that people critiquing arcane have no media literacy and want to be spoon fed. Be so fr the first season of arcane is so so SO GOOD because the reasoning behind characters' decisions were explained/shown before the decision was made. (silco choosing that kid to be the first human shimmer weapon because that kid fucked up his recon mission on vi/powder/mylo/claggor so badly, powder wanting to prove that she isn't a jinx because mylo keeps dissing her about it, marcus being a mess of a dirty cop because his family's safety is in silco's hands, etc, etc)

Characters are not real people. Sure, a real person can make decisions out of left field. Yeah, real people have microexpressions that can tell you a lot about what they're thining. But a character's motivations and how they think should be clear to the audience (generally, ofc there's exceptions im not stupid yo).

Yeah, I know why each character did what they did in s2, but not in the way I did in s1. Not in a way that matters.

I mean, I totally forgot that Mel and Jayce were in a relationship in s1. Where did that go?? I guess people are so obsessed with jayvik that they were probably celebrating that the writers forgor about that important character/plot point. You're telling me not a single character has ANY curiosity??? Jayce sees that Mel is a mage and doesn't, yk, insist on getting the full story??? And vice versa??? Even if they implied that that conversation happens off-screen that's not enough. Seeing how these two very close characters express these very traumatic events to each other would be such a good look into their internal mindscapes and how they view the crazy shit that just happened to them. But nooo. We can't explore their relationship together because jayce needs to be obsessed with viktor.

GOD I want a bi character in a show to come out of a same-sex relationship and end up in a "straight" relationship just to watch the internet fucking implode. Every bi/plurisexual person deserves a smooch on the forehead and a little voice that tells them 'love who you love, nothing could make you less queer than you are. yeah, people sure do think otherwise but fuck them ong holy shit'

omggg dont even get me started on caitvi... can we not get a healthy wlw relationship that isn't rooted in codependency and general toxicity?? "people just cant let lesbians have anything can they," i've heard people say in response to people criticising the caitvi sex scene... NO! I want sapphics to know that they can have healthy, non-abusive relationships where you, yk, actually talk to your partner and ARENT just the dirt under their nails. tf.

[xenia12]

Here’s a bunch of 3+ year old incorrect TOH quotes from my notes app because I’m bored

News reporter: There are rumors that you recently went undercover at Hexside under the name “Caleb”. Is this true?

The Golden Guard: Pfft, TITAN no. Caleb’s just a pathetic wannabe who can’t stand his own incompetence. Like, seriously, he can’t do anything right. I feel bad for anyone who has to suffer the embarrassment of being within 20 feet of him. He’s such a loser.

Hunter, watching the clip on his scroll a few hours later: Say that to my face, you fucking tool. Stop being such a royal ass-kisser and get a real job.

The Emerald Entrails, sitting together after practice:

Willow: Are you okay?

Luz: No problemo!

Luz, internally: But it was all problemo.

Gus: What's your biggest fear?

Hunter: Being replaced.

Gus: Damn that's deep.

Gus: My new one is the Kool-Aid man but I feel kinda stupid about it now.

Hunter, lying in the woods, depressed: I'll never be a cop again. I'm gonna have to be a robber.

Lilith: You know, I really wish you’d just admit you made a mistake sometimes.

The Golden Guard, stirring his coffee: I prefer it with salt.

Willow: What are you two arguing about this time?

Hunter: He’s always using human phrases incorrectly!

Gus: Cry me a table, Hunter.

Luz: I'm very disappointed in you, Vee.

Hunter: C'mon, don't get mad at Vee!

Luz: Hunter, stop telling Vee it's okay for her to punch you! She needs to learn not to punch people!

Hunter: But I'm not a person!

Vee: Which is why I punched him!

Lilith: *Turns on the breakroom light*

The Golden Guard: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

Lilith: It’s four in the morning.

The Golden Guard: Turn the light back off.

Hunter: The joy of hanging out with Luz. You look away for 5 seconds to make sure something is set up correctly, and she bites the tip of a marker off.

Camila: Can you come out?

Luz: Yeah gimme a minute…

Luz: Mom, I’m bi.

Camila: I know that. Come out to the car.

Luz: Okay.

Luz: Car, I’m bi.

Camila, a tired mother:

Willow: *lifting weights*

Hunter: Wow… She’s so intense!

Luz: I wonder what drives her.

Willow, internally: Oh I am going to be SO good at giving hugs.

Hunter, protecting a palistrom forest: I am Hunter, I speak for the trees. Chop them down and I snap your knees.

Luz: I wanna be a knight!

Hunter, basically a knight: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I’M DEAD INSIDE!

Luz: Man, I want some of that in my life!

Luz: I want a trip down memory lane.

Vee: *proceeds to grab every warrior cats book they have and sets them in Luz’s lap*

Vee: I heard you needed these?

Luz: YES! ALL OF THEM!

Hunter: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box.

Luz: Did Willow say “I love you” and you said “Thanks”?

Hunter: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

The Golden Guard, on live news: I can't imagine what the Owl Lady is planning, but I can tell you two things: we won't like it and it won't be legal.

Gus: Did you win? Or just not die?

Gus: Either way, hooray.

Hunter: ... Is "no" a valid answer?

Gus: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me.

The Golden Guard: Hey, do you know anyone who can teach me to play the trumpet?

Darius: Why?

The Golden Guard: I want to wander around playing it to annoy Lilith.

Darius: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play the trumpet well for that.

The Golden Guard: Darius, you have opened my eyes.

Lilith: Can we talk about that mass message you sent?

The Golden Guard: Why? It was important.

Lilith: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit".

Steve, shrugging: The people need to know.

Gus: How long do you think it’ll be until Willow finally snaps and commits murder?

Hunter: I’ve been operating under the assumption that it’s already happened at some point and it’s just that no one was ever able to trace it back to her.

Hunter: It was difficult, so you’ve just given up. You might fail, so why bother trying?

Luz: Exactly.

Luz, to Amity: I told you he’d understand.

Willow: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up!

Willow: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!

Hunter: There's something I have to ask about you-know-who.

Luz: Voldemort?

Hunter: No.

Luz: Is it Voldemort?

Hunter: It's not Voldemort.

Luz: You haven’t mentioned wizards once this conversation, so I’m gonna have to assume it’s Voldemort.

[loopyarts]

Well at least the man has spirt. Also question how would you rate him so far on his goal and story thesis being about being a coming of age story where the children trying to escape their mum’s and father’s shadow and do think he has achieved his goal? I think in some ways he absolutely did but in others not so much.

Well at least he has regrets on some stories he wrote for them. But still sweet that he still deeply cares about this characters even if I personally didn’t agree with every written decision he made cough how he wrote Batman cough. Also reflecting on how 80s were a death zone for new comic book runs, what he achieved with the New Teen Titans cannot be underestimated when comes to comic book history.

Now I don’t think he is a bad writer no not at all, he can do good writing. He just has some bad writing habits he falls back on like too much tell not much show when it characters wanting to grow as people and has a big love for melodrama. Overall, he has left a big impression for Dick Grayson and was the one who made him Nightwing and also created Tim Drake the 3rd Robin who is very beloved by people who grew up with him.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t still critique his writing on New Teen Titans and clown on him a little bit ha ha.

Here’s some more interviews with him plus a bonus one with Gerry.

"To me, Dick is the one hero who simply decided being a fighter for justice was the right thing to do. The murder of Dick's parents was solved almost immediately so there was never a feeling he needed revenge. Even back when he was created he was someone who made bad jokes and seemed to have fun doing what he did. He wasn't the sole survivor of a doomed planet. He didn't feel responsible for the death of his parents. He wasn't appointed an intergalactic cop. When Batman put his parent's killer behind bars he saw that stopping crime was something worth believing in. Dick is the only one I know who is like that. And he does it without having been given any special powers. To me Dick is the best kind of character there can be; he's dedicated to his cause for all the right reasons. Plus he's human, so Dick has to work hard to be good. Unlike Superman he has no natural powers. Shoot him and he will be hurt. That makes the story more interesting."

-Marv Wolfman

Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder : Scholars and Creators on 75 Years of Robin, Nightwing and Batman.

Gerry Conway which is interesting. https://13thdimension.com/flight-of-passage-from-robin-to-nightwing-40-years-later/

Marv Wolfman so funny how these can’t decide who made Nightwing, I say it was both of them in my opinion. https://13thdimension.com/behind-the-mask-marv-wolfman-on-the-creation-of-nightwing/

Then we get to the 80th anniversary and well this how Marv writes these two now in a retelling of Dick leaving. He can’t help but still make Bruce a little assy but this is honestly quite nice. Why Bruce can’t just say how much you love your surrogate son. 😭

sorry but this irritates me so bad. I know Legends of the DC universe was written like 14 years after COIE but can we at least try to keep the characterization consistent especially if you are writing a story thats supposed to be set during a specific time. This is suppose to be set sometime around COIE #5 which had this panel:

Batman has NO trouble comforting Jason. He wasn't an asshole, he didn't not have any friends or anyone to care about. He doesn't need to learn this lesson. The moment in the first screenshot is supposed to be cathartic or something but it just comes across super hollow because it doesn't make sense in the context of the story its set during.

[crimeronan]

Damn that's a great way to start the conversation Camila, any chance Amity was somehow there to hear it? Wondering if she once again ends up defending him without exactly really wanting to.

FKSJDJDDJ AMITY ISNT THERE BUT IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY IF SHE WAS

amity: HEY. hunter's GREAT at guarding luz. way better than you could ever be even. you're not even half-a-witch

hunter, drily: that's sure not what you said to me yesterday

amity: half-a-witch is better than not-a-witch!

hunter: wow. you truly are just. the worst person who has ever lived. thank you

[kitaava]

trigger warning. do not read if you dont want to read something triggering.

[hauntingblue]

Jaya time

I love these moments of nearly cosmic horror when they encounter inexplicable things (at first) they are so intriguing

Is strawhat here?! *Megan thee stallion saying AAH 😜*

This cover just goes hard... Get it chopper

[thekimspoblog]

Demon trying to feed on my insecurities: "You're a bad driver"

Me: "Of course I am. I hate driving. Going 80 mph surrounded by tons of metal is nerve-wrecking. I try to do it as little as possible. Of course I'm bad at it"

Demon: "You're a bad writer"

Me: "Well that part's simply not true. I never claimed I was the greatest author of my generation, but when I put pen to paper I know what I want to communicate and I usually do it well. If someone isn't impressed with my work, that's unfortunate but they're entitled to their opinion"

Demon: "You're a bad leader"

Me: "Well I don't know about that! I mean there was that one time when... Ok look just because people don't see me as an authority figure doesn't mean... 😠 You know you can be a real asshole, demon!"

[lord-squiggletits]

Speaking of stupid reasons to criticize the Autobots (or rather, the opposite), I actually find the ““““problematic”““““ nature of Cop IDW Optimus and other elements of the plot to be quite essential to enjoying the story and seeing it as a balanced, nuanced story.

Because like... in other continuities, the story of revolution seems to be very much “there were good revolutionaries and there were bad ones, and then the bad ones wanted to be in charge and then they fought about it for 4 million years.” Which seems very weak to me not just in the “revolution bad” sense, but it makes me wonder how the war could go on for millions of years when the Autobots and Decepticons literally had the same goal and achieved it, now they’re just fighting over who gets to be in charge.

But like, in IDW1, the Autobot insignia and stuff already existed as a badge for the previous regime of the Prime/Senate. Orion Pax (now Optimus Prime) was a lackey of Zeta Prime who was either his loyal puppet at best or being groomed for the position of Prime at worst. Most of the people Optimus Prime recruited to help him fight were other police officers and military members he was affiliated with, who were already cracking down on the Decepticon movement as it became more and more violent.

With that base of Optimus/the Autobots being actually ~problematic~, I can absolutely see why the Decepticons wouldn’t consider the war over and would continue fighting. I mean, why the hell would they trust a police enforcer/military officer who was lackeys with the PRIME? Why would they think Optimus actually believes in peace and equality?

Of course, the Decepticons have their own problems as well. What was once a universal political movement (because remember, the Decepticon movement began with Megatron’s writings but he was NOT the leader of a militarized faction until Megatron Origins) was taken over by essentially an underground criminal gladiator organization that began engaging in weapon trafficking, crime, and terrorism. From the Autobot perspective, the Decepticons are allies for equality gone bad due to Megatron’s violent influences and the gladiator/criminal aspects overtaking the actual social equality vibes.

I just think that the premise of IDW1′s Autobot-Decepticon war is so good because like, the Autobots and Decepticons existed in a way BEFORE either Megatron or Optimus became the official leaders of those two specific, organized, militarized factions. But the society that created them and the two different social classes they came from doomed them to distrust each other. It wasn’t ever a fight about who got to be in charge, it was a war between two different factions of people who had every reason to distrust each other and think that the other faction would subjugate them if they allowed them to gain power.

[embarressment-erradicated]

seeing the far right in the usa actively plan to end democracy completely and people saying vote blue to that is just sickening.

like no, this isn't a situation where that's an appropriate response. they aren't going to just stop all plans because they didn't have the one they claim as their god king president.

they are going to double down no matter what.

this is not a time for petty politics, this is not the time for elections, this is the time to actually get the revolution up and running, and kill a few people who if left alive will only make the world worse.

I am largely one who thinks pacifism is a neat concept, however, when it's murdering a few people or risking having everything this country stands for get defiled even further somehow, leading it to becoming a christo-fascist authoritarian regime, I'm going to pick the one which doesn't end with everyone I know and love being murdered on a cross or rotting in a jail cell.

this isn't a vote blue no matter who situation, this is a vanquish a cult from our masses and watch the crimson blood spill from the graves which we build a new society on, hoping to not fuck it up this time

I'm not saying that everyone who bought into the lies of maga should die, I am saying that the people who actively wish to make the world a worse place should not be tolerated.

some people won't fight when it comes to the choice to lay down their arms or die, most even. some people need to die, or atleast be dead in a way that matters however, such as the people rallying up the masses to upend democracy.

a cult can not last, a cult can not persist forever, and whether we let it die off naturally and bring many down with it, or make sure it ends before it can make things any worse will decide whether or not we live to see the end.

oh and one more thing, remember how every democratic president has squandered the years they've had, and how essentially nothing changes until the republicans are in office, and it gets drastically worse? yeah that's a whole thing.

maybe we should use almost any other system of governance other than that. but as it is, voting blue will only maybe postpone the horrific nonsense at play.

we don't need votes, we need to revolt, no one should take away a person's right to exist. no one should think they can get away with that. no one should get away with that.

war is a complicated term, however civil wars have happened before, and we can do it again.

but I'm not a strategist, I'm just someone who happens to be an anarchist, communist, and non-binary. and as such is at high risk of being effected in one way or another by what they do.

but like, I don't know what to do about this at this current second, again, I'm just someone who's staring at the happenings of this country, and seeing hell both on the other side, and around me.

oh and if you don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, first do some research (if your interested, I mean I'm from the usa, I understand not knowing stuff from other places, that's like, the whole us education system), second wikipedia article go!

[evilminji]

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for getting my best friend killed?

I swear to God, it was an accident.

My (27) BF (34) has a reputation for getting himself out of any jam you can imagine; and at first it was just a fun little thing the friend group noticed: there goes Oily J wiggling his way out of trouble again. but as the meme evolved in the group, it got to the point where we'd loykey started getting him into situations just to see how he'd get out of 'em, and he akept getting out of em. He was having fun with it too same as us. "Oh you guys," he'd say, "getting me into situations again," before laughing it off and getting out of it, so it was enrichment for our shared enclosures, and as time went on, the situations got more intense.

The trouble is, it turns out that putting a man in too many situations eventually gets the police interested. And not local hobsknockers cops either; they was like, proper three-letter FEDs. They put out a bounty on any information pertaining to his capture and everything. It was good money too so I thought, hey why don't I put J in another situation he can wiggle out of like always (and he'd wiggled outta worse before, so I thought this one'd be relatively mild), and at the next boardgame night (cause it was too late to do anything special for this one) we can buy some extra strong booze and get absolutely blitzed while having a giggle about the situation.

Boardgame night, and we were playing some social deduction nonsense or another and he says: "One of you is gonna betray me tonight." and I can't help but think, looking back on it, that he knew. It's stupid, I know he was talking about the game, but the way he said it, it was like he knew. We all felt it, and we had a big round robin round the table taking turns promising that we'd never betray him. And I said it so easily cause I thought it was true. Sure, I was gonna talk to the feds about a bounty; but, I fully expected my big beautiful oily boy to wiggle his way out of the trouble I was 'bout to cause, and that's not a betrayal. I wasn't lying. I didn't think I was lying.

My big beautiful oily boy didn't manage to wiggle his way out of it. They killed him and I got my blood money. He's gone.

He's gone and I'm devastated, crying, mourning. I loved him so much. We all did. And I can't stop thinking that it's my fault: that I'm the reason he's gone. and it is. and the guilt is eating me up inside. and I just need to talk to someone about it. So, I tell the rest of the group what happened in the group chat, hoping they'd understand that I didn't want this. I didn't want the government's blood money. It was supposed the be a prank. some joint enclosure enrichment. He was supposed to wiggle out of it like he always does... did, i mean.

They call me, among worse things, the asshole and kick me from the group chat. And, I know it's my fault he's dead: I know that. If I didn't do what I did, he wouldn't be dead right now. But, I didn't mean it for it to end up this way. He was supposed to be okay, damn it. I loved him. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[alcohol-eyes]

.

[moonstruckme]

mae my lovely, can i possibly request emt!marauders and reader who hasn’t replied to any texts in a few days/a week? pre-established relationship but not quite living together, and reader struggles with her mental health and has holed herself up in her apartment which worries the boys greatly? please don’t write if you feel uncomfortable (and if you’ve already written it but i’ve devoured emt!marauders today and i don’t think you have) obviously!! love you

Thank you for requesting my love! And thanks to @ellecdc for helping me figure out the emt stuff <3

cw: mental health struggles, self isolation

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Sirius’ knuckles rap loudly on your door. 

“Fuck, ease up.” James winces. “She’s gonna think we’re the cops.” 

“Good. Maybe she’ll answer for them.” 

“You need to calm down.” Remus’ voice is patience with a firm edge. “We don’t know what’s going on. If we go in angry with her, it’s not going to help anything.” 

“I think I have the right to be somewhat miffed,” Sirius argues. “You ghost someone after a first date, not once you’re in a relationship. It’s fucked.” 

“She’s not ghosting us,” James says certainly. Sirius’ mouth pinches in response.

James knows that, truly, his boyfriend is as worried as any of them. You’re well past the point in your relationship where you feel the need to establish the next time you’re going to meet before parting, but after your date last week it took the boys a few days to put it together that none of them had heard from you. 

At first, James presumed you’d simply gotten busy. Remus was convinced he’d done something to upset you. Sirius, secretly the most prone to worry, would rather believe he’s been slighted than consider the possibility that something might be keeping you from responding to their calls. Now that it’s been nearly a week, James is convinced something’s happened. You’ve had to take an emergency trip out of town or something’s spooked you and made you avoid them or—worst case scenario—you’re ill and have been holed up here with no one to check in on you for almost a week. 

Once he brought up that idea, it wasn’t difficult to convince his boyfriends to do a wellness check during their shift. 

“Just don’t be harsh with her,” Remus says gently. 

Sirius huffs. He knocks again, albeit somewhat softer. 

“NHS,” he calls. 

James holds his breath when he hears some shuffling from inside. Gradually, it gets closer and louder, until the door is creaking open and you’re peering through the crack. 

Your voice is scratchy, like you haven’t used it in a while. “What’re you doing here?”

James expects Sirius to snipe at you, is already prepared to smooth it over himself with kinder words and a gentler tone, but something seems to shift in the other boy at the sight of you. He pushes through the crack in your door, hugging you fiercely. 

“We…” Remus seems as thrown by this deviation as James is. “We thought we ought to check up on you.” 

Your hand migrates up, touching Sirius’ back tentatively. “Why?”

“It’s a wellness check.” Sirius’ voice is bitter, but the effect is somewhat muddled by how he’s speaking into your neck. “We had reason to believe you could be harmed or deceased.” 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

James takes a moment to look you over. You’re in pajamas, visibly rumpled, and yet you look as tired as if you’ve not slept in some time. There’s something off about your expression, something missing that he can’t put his finger on. It’s unsettling in a way that makes him want to wrap you up in a tight cuddle and not let go. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, perhaps more brash than he means to be. Normally he’d expect more tact from himself, but he’s shocked Sirius hasn’t asked yet, and someone has to.

“Can we come in?” Remus asks at the same time. 

You look between them like you’re not sure what to do with them. Like you’re questioning whether you’re still in some sort of dream. 

“Yeah,” you say after a moment. James gets the sense you mean it to answer both of them. You step back from the door to make room for them, and Sirius moves with you. “Um, forewarning, it’s really bad in here.” 

Really bad by your standards isn’t the same as James’. If he hadn’t seen the way you normally keep things, he’d never notice anything was amiss. Your place smells a bit stale, like when you leave for a weekend and then come home. There’s a laundry basket on the floor with a few balled socks like you’d started to fold them and given up, and if he peers into your bedroom he can see a small trash pile on your floor and the covers of your bed all twisted up. It’s no worse than his side of the dorm he’d shared with Remus and Sirius in school. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks you. His voice sounds clearer now, and James focuses back in to find that he’s let you go enough to press his forehead to yours. His brow and lips are pinched. “Why have you been avoiding us?” 

James is nearly overcome by the desire to kiss him and rub his back, but he decides to let you have the honor, if you want it. 

You look unsure whether you do. 

“I’m sorry.” The words seem scraped out from some aching part of you. “I wasn’t trying to.” 

“Then why didn’t you answer our calls?” Sirius’ tone matches yours for desperation. Remus’ expression twinges compassionately. 

“I couldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Sirius,” Remus chides softly. 

Your shoulders are slumped, but when Sirius moves away you seem to droop further. He’s only giving you space, his expression far from unkind. 

“Why couldn’t you pick up, dove?” Remus asks gently. 

“I…” Your eyes meander the floor. “I didn’t know what to talk about. And then my phone died, and it was just easier. I’m really sorry.” 

“Is talking to us really that bad?” Sirius is clearly making an attempt at joking, but the heartache underlying his words is unmissable. 

“No,” you sigh. “I’m just not really fit for the world right now. I didn’t want you to worry.” 

James’ ribs hurt at your admission, but he feels himself nodding. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is you’re dealing with, he’s familiar with people who think they’re somehow so damaged they don’t deserve to engage with anyone or anything. Sirius was like that once. Remus even more often. He sees the recognition on both of their faces now, pity and love and regret all tangled up into one messy thing. 

“Well, it was a noble effort,” says James, giving you a small smile, “but you can’t stop us worrying. Can I hug you?”

You nod, making an effort towards returning his smile. It’s a half-hearted, flickering thing, but he appreciates it nonetheless. 

He kisses your forehead as he folds you into his arms, starting gentle and tightening when you hug him back. Your grip feels a bit weak, if ardent. James pushes his palm up your spine. 

“Have you eaten today, sweetheart?” 

Your hum in the negative vibrates against his skin. 

“I’ll make us something.” Remus starts toward the kitchen, passing a hand over James’ curls as he goes by. “A sandwich alright, dovey?” 

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it.” His voice raises as he enters the kitchen, and James knows he wants you to hear. To understand that this is something he would happily do for you. 

“Let’s sit down,” James suggests. “Pads, would you mind opening the curtains some?” 

Sirius complies with vigor, whipping open your drapes while James gets you situated on the couch. In the light, the shadows under your eyes are more evident, as is the redness in them. 

James squishes you up against his side. Rubs up and down your arm. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. 

You make a tiny, stymied sound, and turn your head down. 

“Hey.” Sirius sits on your other side. He kisses your shoulder, worry hewn into the lines of his face. “What’s wrong?” 

Your shoulders give a little shake. It’s small, defeated. You curl further in on yourself. 

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

“You don’t have to explain,” James tells you, continuing to drag his hand up your arm. “It’s okay. You’re alright.” 

“I wanted—” You take in a wet inhale. He feels close to tears himself. “I wanted to be better when I saw you. I’m sorry.” 

“We don’t need you to be any sort of way, sweetheart.” Sirius’ voice is soft but fervent. “We just want to be with you.”

“As much as you’ll let us,” James agrees. His own voice is thick, and Sirius slides his arm around you to rub between his shoulders. 

You don’t say much after that. James holds you tight until your trembling stops, and even then he only loosens his grip to let you eat the grilled cheese Remus has made for you. From the wrappers he saw in your room, it’s likely the closest thing to a prepared meal you’ve had in some time. 

When you’re done eating, Sirius insists on kissing the saltiness from your cheeks even though your tears have dried. Remus coaxes you into a bath while James and Sirius tidy your room and change your sheets, and then Remus enlists Sirius to shampoo your hair while he tucks your sheets in more effectively. They put your phone on the charger. James makes dinner and puts it in the fridge for you to have later. None of it fixes anything, but he hopes it makes you feel less alone. 

When they have to go out for another call, Remus gives you a long hug, James makes you agree to go on a walk with him the next day, and Sirius threatens to pester you with calls until you block his number if you ignore them ever again. 

Your eye roll at his antics makes James’ heart sing.

[hoshifighting]

the ''ick's'' seventeen would give

seungcheol: would act tough in front of his friends, and with you would be talking like; pweaseee/otay/i wuv u so much 🥺 like—shutthefuckup

jeonghan: stole your lip gloss. yep, dead serious. you look over, and he’s pulling out your cherry gloss, pouting at himself in his phone camera to check it. then he has the audacity to judge you if it’s not his color. like, “babe, don’t you think this is a bit bright?”

joshua: man has this cringe little habit of saying “no cap” at the worst times, and he’s always wrong. burnt his toast? “no cap, that was the toaster’s fault.” got pulled over? “no cap, that cop’s jealous of my car.” you’re in a horror movie, and this dude would whisper, “no cap, i think we should split up.”

junhui: starts telling a hilarious story about his day but accidentally mixes it up with a story he already told you last week. he’s all “wait, have i told you this before?”

hoshi: eats with so much sound. slurping, groaning, making it a whole event. like, eating ramen? nah, he’s performing ramen, making eye contact, giving each bite a sound effect. and it’s so bad you’re rethinking why you even suggested dinner. you can hear every noodle hitting his mouth. done.

woozi: texts you “wyd” every fifteen minutes. like you’re just supposed to be sitting around waiting for his updates on what you’re doing, right? he’s the kind of guy who’ll FaceTime you just to check if you’re having too much fun without him. and the way he says “wyd?” – every. time.

wonwoo: he’s got a pet name for his gaming console. this boy will sit there, caressing his controller and calling it “baby” while yelling at his avatar. it’s all fun and games until he actually ignores you mid-sentence to mutter sweet nothings to his PS5.

minghao: changes his accent mid-sentence to be "fancy." like, you’re talking normal, but suddenly he’s doing his best British impression for no damn reason. “oh, quite right, love, terribly splendid.” and it’s out of nowhere, totally unprompted, with a smirk like he just did something magical. you’re cringing so hard you’re practically folding into yourself.

mingyu: he’ll be all smooth one minute, but then he gets real comfortable and lets out the loudest, most unholy fart you’ve ever heard, like it was a fart held since WW2.

seokmin: pulls out a super old toy he’s kept since childhood and starts playing with it, getting all emotional about “the good ol’ days.” like, bro, you’re a grown-ass man, and you’re here with a plastic dinosaur, talking about how it “used to roar.”

seungkwan: catches a whiff of something weird in the room and just straight-up sniffs his armpits. he does it casually, like it’s no big deal, then he looks at you dead seriously.

vernon: goes way too hard on his “cool guy” vibes. constantly pulling his hat down low, trying to act all mysterious, but he’s accidentally walked into the wrong bathroom twice just trying to “look chill” or, walking in the room with his backpack wide open (we have proofs). he does this squinting thing like he’s in a music video, but it’s just… nope.

chan: calls himself “alpha.” no, seriously, he’ll be like, “as the alpha, i need to handle this.” and he’s referring to something like taking out the trash. leaving you jaw dropped, wondering why he’s talking like a lost wolf.